Stucky & Evanstan Oneshots

sketches and storms || stucky

*pre-serum*

Steve sat, curled up in blankets on the bed, sketchbook on his lap and pencil in hand. The rain was pouring heavily outside, and the thunder and lighting were profuse. Steve had never been fond of thunderstorms. He liked the rain. However, whenever it stormed, he was forced to stay inside because it was too cold and he could easily catch pneumonia. Besides, thunder was loud and he didn't like it.

So, whenever it rained, he normally did exactly what he was currently doing. Curl up in bed with his sketchbook and just let his mind wander, as his hand moved freely across the page. Sometimes he'd have something specific in mind to draw, but today he just let his hand flit carelessly over the paper, as his thoughts went elsewhere, hoping something good would eventually show up on the page.

He worked diligently for a few hours, fingers curling tighter around his pencil every time the thunder roared or the lighting cracked into his room. It was getting late, and his room was filling with darkness. The storm had already made it dark outside, but now the sun was setting and all traces of light were fading. He reached over and turned on the small lamp that sat on a little table beside the bed making a small yellow glow cast itself across his face and across his drawing.

As it continued to downpour, Steve started to worry. He knew Bucky worked outside and often walked home, and he was starting to get worried for his friend's safety. It would be so ironic if, out of the two of them, Bucky was the one who ended up with pneumonia. Of course, Steve knew that Bucky was actually strong enough to fight it off, but he still didn't want him getting sick.

He was thankful when he finally heard the rattling of the front door and the lock click open.

He heard Bucky move around their apartment for a few minutes, until finally, he appeared in the doorway of their room. They had two rooms in their little apartment, but it was approaching winter and they weren't able to pay to keep the heat on at night, so instead they opted for sharing a bed to keep each other warm. Steve still had his room down the hall with some of his things, but he'd mostly moved himself all to Bucky's room. He liked it better.

"Hey, Buck," Steve said, peering up at his friend. Bucky was soaking wet. His hair was plastered to his face and his clothes stuck uncomfortably to his body. He'd tried to dry himself off before he came into their apartment, but his wet hair was still dripping and leaving drops of water where he walked.

"Hey, Steve. I'm freezing. I'm gonna take a quick shower."

Steve nodded, and Bucky turned away, walking to the bathroom across the hall. After a few minutes, Bucky returned, looking much more comfortable than he had before. His hair was still wet, but not carelessly stuck to his face anymore and the clothes he had put on were warm and dry.

Bucky walked over and collapsed on the bed next to Steve with a tired, but content, sigh.

"I was worried about you, you know," Steve said, looking down at his friend. "It was getting really bad out there."

Bucky peered up at Steve through his eyelashes. "You don't gotta worry about me, Stevie. I wouldn't let anything happen to myself, especially not when there's someone I'm waiting to come home to."

Steve blushed, both at the nickname Bucky gave him and at what he said. "Did you walk home?"

"Yeah. Cab's weren't running anymore with the storm this bad."

Steve frowned. "Bucky-"

"Steve, I'm fine. It was damn cold out there, but I'm fine now. Promise." Steve sighed and looked like he was going to protest again, but Bucky cut him off before he could. "What're you drawing?"

Steve looked down at his sketchbook. A faint blush appeared on his cheeks. He'd just let his mind and hand take over earlier, and he was just now getting a good look at what he'd drawn. It was Bucky. It was a sketch of him working down at the docks, rain pouring down around him. Bucky hadn't been around for Steve to look at while drawing him, but it looked exactly like him anyway. Probably because Steve had Bucky's face completely committed to memory. "Um-"

"Here, let me see," Bucky said, taking the drawing from Steve's hands. "Steve..."

"I'm sorry-"

"Sorry? Steve, this is beautiful! I love it!"

"Really? You do?"

"Of course I do. I love everything you draw. You're incredibly talented, Stevie."

Steve blushed again. "Thanks, Buck..." he said sheepishly.

"You're welcome," Bucky said with a grin before leaning over and placing Steve's sketchbook on the nightstand. "Now come here, I'm cold." He grabbed hold of Steve's arm and pulled him to his chest. Steve gave a little cry of surprise before collapsing against Bucky. He lightly wrapped his skinny arm around Bucky's waist. They just lay there together in silence for a while, Bucky's arm against Steve's back, holding him close, and Steve's arm getting tighter around Bucky's waist every time the thunder cracked outside.

Soon enough, they drifted off into a warm, peaceful sleep, content with simply each other.

sorry it's so short, i'm running out of ideas and creativity. not that i really had any to begin with but 🤷‍♀️

published: august 23, 2020