A Place to Fall: Falling Series 1 (skinny!Steve x Bucky Barnes College AU)

Fifty-Seven

It was odd.

Last semester, Steve wanted nothing more than to have as many classes with Bucky as possible. Really, Steve just wanted to spend as much attention with Bucky as possible. It was all Steve could think about. Thoughts like, will I see Bucky today? Or, god, please let Bucky be here!

Just Bucky, Bucky, Bucky!

Now though?

Well, now was a different time. For one, winter break was over. He didn't share his break with Bucky. No cuddles in front of a roaring fireplace. No playful snowball fights. No exchanging gifts. No, "I love you," to be shared. Just heartbreak and a numbing emptiness growing inside his petite body as he tried to piece himself back together.

Sure, Bucky had given Sam the gift meant for Steve. And Sam had given Steve the gift, like he was asked to do. But it wasn't the same. The gift only made it worse. Especially when Steve reluctantly ripped off the wrapping paper to find a pack of watercolor painting pens and a customized leather-bound sketchbook with Steve's name written in Bucky's hand embroidered on the front cover.

It was too much. Way too much. Although Steve's pettiness was urging him to give it back, Steve couldn't bring himself to do it. Of course, that didn't mean that Steve was going to use it either. Instead, Steve shoved it into his desk's drawer and tried to forget that it existed.

Another thing that was different now? Brock. Brock being a nice person. Brock hanging out. Brock offering a place for Steve to hang out when Sam informed Steve that Bucky was going to be at the dorm (which hardly ever happened), or when Sam and Kristin wanted the room to themselves (which happened quite frequently. Especially now that Kristin's roommate was back from the psychiatric hospital).

Or -- the big one -- providing a shoulder to cry on. Which seemed to happen a lot more often than Steve would care to admit.

Like tonight. One might've found it strange to find Brock there. But no one more than Steve. What made it even stranger was the fact that Steve was glad to have Brock there.

All they were doing was sitting on Steve's bed, watching TV. Nothing physical. No charge in the air. Just some sitcom that relied too heavily on laugh tracks. Oh! And some takeout that was delivered with a knock at the dorm door.

Brock went to get the door, but Steve quickly climbed off his bed and told Brock, "I got it."

"You sure?" Brock questioned, and suddenly, Steve was reminded of Bucky. Of their first sleep over. When Bucky had paid and reassured Steve, next time.

Nodding, Steve replied, "Yeah. I got it."

Of course, once Steve opened the door, he soon regretted it. The delivery girl was busy looking at the food as she greeted, "Hunan Gar --" Once she looked up and found Steve, she immediately interrupted herself. The smile almost completely disappearing from her pretty face as she softly, bashfully said, "Hey."

"Hi," Steve stated, shocked to find the girl standing in front of him. He had been lucky to not have any classes with her this semester. He had been lucky to not have seen her since that day he surprised Bucky.

"Listen, I want you to know that I --"

"How much?" Steve quickly interrupted. He had no interest in hearing what she had to say. If Steve wasn't going to talk to Bucky about what happened, he sure as hell wasn't going to listen to her.

Steve pretended like he didn't see her expression fall, and kept his attention on his wallet. She cleared her throat and answered, "Twelve, even."

"Cool," Steve deadpanned, handing her a crisp twenty dollar bill. As she handed over the bag of food, she went to count out the change, but Steve didn't want to spend any more time with her than he already had. Quickly, Steve told her, "Keep the change," and closed the door before she could reply.

Of course, even with the door closed, Steve still heard her solemnly state, "Okay... Thank you."

Carrying the full bag over to his bed, Steve could feel himself shake. And despite Steve trying his best to keep himself composed, Brock still noticed that something was off. So, Brock cautiously questioned, "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Steve lied.

Of course, even if Brock wasn't as surprisingly perceptive as he was, Steve was a dreadful liar. Brock gave Steve a look. A look that said everything. Mainly that he wasn't buying any of Steve's bullshit. He didn't even have to say it, but he did anyway, "What's wrong?"

Keeping his attention on the bag of food and the logo on the bag, Steve said, "We need to find a new Chinese place."

"Why?" Brock's brows furrowed and he glanced around the wall to the door. "Did something... happen?"

Not wanting to talk about it since he had already talked about it too much -- in his own opinion -- Steve simply said, "It's her."

Instantly Brock knew what Steve meant. Of course, he did. Steve had only talked about it a few dozen times over the months. First, only when he drank. Then, whenever it crossed his mind and broke his heart. Steve didn't really remember the words that he used the first time. All he remembered was the way that Brock looked so pathetically sorry for him.

Just like now. It was brief. A flash across his expression. But Steve had caught it.

"You know what?" Brock started, unpacking the food containers. Steve shrugged, waiting for Brock to continue. Luckily, Brock wasn't one to sit around and make a person guess, he got straight to his point, "Why don't we put on a movie? Perhaps I could even be persuaded into a horror film?"

A slow smile tugged at Steve's lips and he nodded. Climbing onto his bed, he took his place next to Brock. Playfully bumping his shoulder against Brock's broad, muscular one, Steve sincerely stated, "Thanks."

"No problem," Brock smiled down at Steve. Then, his face scrunched in disgust and he suggested, "Just no gore. Not while we eat, at least."

Steve softly chuckled and agreed, "Sounds like a plan."