Stucky ➳ Oneshots

Heartache (I Miss You)

written by makkerkines on ao3 [https://archiveofourown.org/users/makkerkines]
–
Eventually, the smell forced Bucky's hand.

The scent of new omega mixed with leather, pine, and patriotic sense of duty that is one Steven Grant Rogers, lingers on his best friend.

And Bucky hates it.
–

Eventually, the smell forces Bucky's hand.

The scent of new omega mixed with the leather, pine and patriotic sense of duty that is one Steven Grant Rogers, lingers on his best friend.

And Bucky hates it.

*

Having one Steven Grant Rogers as long time best friend, comrade and brother in all but blood - even though Bucky secretly longs for the opposite - and being an omega finely in tune with all his senses, particularly Steve's scent, Bucky saw the signs of a happy alpha after spending time with not-Bucky, and instead, someone new.

In the air is a strange, pleased, new scent dazzled with a hint of excitement and metallic interest, resting atop a tasty, sweet alpha base. Like cinnamon on an already glazed doughnut.

And Bucky isn't the omega providing said-cinnamon.

"What's up Bucky?" Steve asks him one of these days, far into the future, far into Bucky's gloomy, miserable, wonderful life with Steve Rogers. At least nothing changed their dynamic after sharing every part of their lives together, including an apartment, a decade and more of friendship, and two goldfish.

The scent of metal attacks Bucky again and he holds back a snarl.

"Buck?"

Shit, now he's got Steve worried and he can't have the mother-henning right now, not when his senses are trembling and the need to tear Steve's clothes from his stupid handsome shoulders is a need he desperately ignores. "I'm fine," he says, shoving away his friend's hand clearly reaching for his forehead. "Stop it, I'm not sick."

"That's something a sick person would say. Is something up?"

Yes, that stupid scent of oil and pleased omega is definitely up – "Nope, everything's fine." Shove something at him, anything – "Just, thinking about going out with Clint tonight. Just us, no one else." Why point that out? Clint's an omega practically attached to a certain redhead's hip. "Just nervous."

Those familiar blue eyes give him a big smile, and Steve's hand eventually rests upon Bucky's left shoulder, over scars and against the skin of his neck. "Don't be nervous, I think that's a great idea. I'm real proud of you."

A blush creeps up Bucky's cheeks. "Thanks."

Steve squeezes gently before releasing Bucky and heading off to his bedroom.

Bucky barely resists collapsing dramatically against the wall.

He's screwed.

He tells this to Clint that night and maybe the next.

*

Bucky met Steve when he was fourteen and the other, a year younger.

Or rather, Steve ran into Bucky at that age. Which then brought Bucky into a fight. Which then ended with the two victorious, all teeth accounted for.

The blonde, skinny guy at the time – who later grew into the total beefcake of the current age – was growing into his protective streak the size of Texas, though after this first scuffle with Bucky helping a bruised Steve to his nimble feet, collar of his shirt torn and a mean looking glosser underneath his right eye, that streak was probably the size of Connecticut.