Love at First Grade

18

a/n: smut warning! also, there's about 2 chapters and an epilogue left in the main story! if you're interested in sending any requests for this fic feel free to do so in the comments or find my on tumblr, same username, and send an Ask! there will be a deleted scene that i will upload when i'm done with the main story!

Two months. It had been two fucking months since Bucky had touched you for anything more intimate than just a quick brush of your hair or a quick squeeze of your waist. Since that night out at Obsidian he had started seeing a therapist. When he told you the next day that he was going to start going to therapy you almost cried. In fact, if memory served you correctly, you did cry. Bucky seemed to be making good progress and he'd hold you a little longer but he was always cautious with his arm. If he held you he did it without the prosthetic. You knew it was because even after all the physical therapy he still didn't trust the prosthetic, he didn't trust himself. But that's why he was seeing a therapist.

He'd gone back to work, every bit of his body was hunched over on his first day back, as if he was trying to make himself as unassuming as possible. You had dropped him and the girls off that day and your heart had practically broken when you saw this hunk of a man walking towards the school with such little confidence. But then, you saw Avery slip her hand into his left one as Becca took his right and you froze. Bucky did too. You could tell he wasn't expecting the light touch of the girls hands in his and you swore that he was trying his best not to flinch at Avery's grip on his metal hand. But then his shoulders loosened. Some of the tension dropped away from his body and you could see the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips as the girls chattered about how excited they were to have daddy and papa back at school.

That was a new thing to deal with, not that it was difficult to hear. Avery started calling Bucky papa not too long after she heard Becca refer to you as mama. That first night you and Bucky cried in each other's arms. You were so happy. So. Immensely. Happy. And so was he...you thought. Not that Bucky had been acting too differently. He'd kiss you occasionally and occasionally it would lead to some impassioned, read: hot and steamy, make-out sessions but then he'd never take it farther. You'd even tried to give him a blowjob but he pulled you away at the last minute claiming he was tired before promptly rolling over and going to bed. It made you feel empty and unwanted. It made you start thinking. And when you started thinking you didn't stop.

You thought about Bucky's touches were light and they didn't feel as impassioned as they had months ago. You started wondering if he was with you because he truly loved you or if at this point it was just a matter of convenience. Hell you even had a dream that involved the nasty Alyssa Williams with her arms wrapped around a shirtless Bucky, whispering things about how she could make him feel so much better and how you didn't deserve him. You'd woken up that night drenched in sweat, chest heaving, to find Bucky sound asleep next to you.

Whenever you would try to talk to Bucky and ask about his feelings and his thoughts he'd assure you he was fine and then he'd attempt to assuage you with a brief kiss that you always hoped would turn into something else. But that something else never came. And so you started spending later evenings at work. Truly, work was getting busy, but you were also practically begging Matt to let you read over the case he was putting together for Brock. After at least a dozen times of Matt telling you to go home, do your job, or leave him alone he finally gave in. Part of you genuinely felt bad. When you would have these late nights it meant Avery was spending more time either with your parents or with Bucky and Becca instead of you. And so you started planning smaller outings with just the two of you. Taking her for ice cream, going to a museum, going shopping, but Avery always wanted more. She'd beg for Becca to join, stating it wasn't nearly as fun to go to museums without her best friend, or she'd beg for Bucky and Steve to meet you for ice cream. And who were you to tell her no? You had no good reason to deny her. You and Bucky were still going strong, though you weren't certain you'd use that adjective to describe a relationship that had devolved to a couple make out sessions and occasional sleepovers, and so you always caved.