Those Who Fall: Falling Series 3 (Modern Domestic Stucky AU)

Five

Keeping an eye on the classroom door, Steve rearranged the paints. Deciding to go by color and shade. When that task was over, he organized the paintbrushes by the width of the handles, and then by the width of the brushes. When that task was finished, he debated it for a moment before deciding to move the tables around.

Even though the small tables were easy to maneuver -- for the most part -- Steve still found it taxing. Soon, starting to sweat and developing labored breathing, he remove his cardigan in hopes of cooling down. Imagining it as a giant Tetris game, even if the design wasn't what he saw in his head.

Then, a throat clearing gained his attention. Stopping his rearranging project, Steve found Blaire's mom. What was her name? God, one would think that he'd remember it having been introduced that morning.

"Hi," she grinned, slowly entering the room.

Trying to catch his breath, Steve greeted, "Hi."

"Blaire's mom," she reminded, "Amy."

"Right," Steve nodded, "I remember."

Amy perked at that, "You do?"

Steve just blinked for a moment before nodding again. He should've known not to say that considering how she had checked him out earlier. Only, he figured that the rings would've clued her in that he was married. Happily so, to boot. Of course, he never understood why people seemed to be interested in him all of a sudden. He was still the scrawny man that he'd been since puberty. Well, looks wise, at least and growing up, he had been bullied relentlessly for being petite.

But he had a feeling that it had to do with him being good with kids. After all, whenever he saw Bucky interact with their children, it made him want to drag Bucky down to their bedroom and have his way with him. It was just something that made his, already irresistible husband, even more desirable.

And so, Steve figured that was the reason why parents often hit on him.

Gesturing over to the area with the kindergarten projects, Steve tried to steer the conversation to the neutral topic they were supposed to be discussing, "Blaire's handprint leaves are over there. She's very talented. A good student."

Amy nodded, but hardly moved. Instead, keeping Steve in sight. Tucking some of the orangey-red hair behind her ear, she flirted, "That's quite the compliment coming from you."

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, brows furrowed.

"Just that you must be a talented artist yourself, or you wouldn't have been hired," Amy clarified.

Steve cheeks flamed a bright red and he hated it. Since Amy wasn't going over to the projects, he gestured towards his desk, "Is there something you'd like to discuss in regards to Blaire? Perhaps how she does with interacting with the other students? Or maybe how well she is at following instructions?"

"Okay," Amy eagerly agreed, taking a seat in the chair beside Steve's desk. It was the only other adult size chair, but Steve wished that he had moved it around to the front of the desk.

Taking his own seat, he opened his record book to the correct kindergarten class and ignored how Amy leaned into his personal space. Clearing his throat in hopes that she'd remove herself from his bubble, he focused on his notes. Even though it was all good things that he had pretty much simplified earlier.

"She's really a special little --"

"Is that your husband?" Amy interrupted.

Surprised, Steve stupidly glanced at the empty open doorway before he found her gaze trained on the photos on his desk. Smiling, Steve nodded, "Yeah. I'm very lucky."

"I'll say," she giggled, ogling the brunet in the camping photo where he had melted chocolate on his face and a toasted marshmallow on the roasting stick. To his right, Jonas sat and to his left, Luke. Behind them, Katie, Liz, and Tommy stood. On Katie's hip, Sophia grinned, showing off the missing teeth gaps.

"Who're the kids?" Amy innocently asked.

Lucky for her, it was Steve's favorite subject.

Grabbing the framed photo from his desk, he tilted it towards her. Starting right to left, Steve pointed at the older boy with the dark olive-brown complexion, "That's Jonas, our oldest. He's a sophomore in college," pointing at Jonas's biological brother, "That's Luke, he's a freshman in high school." Moving to the back row, he pointed to the teen girl with the freckled alabaster skin and fiery red hair akin to Amy's and Natasha's, "That's Katie, she's a freshman in college. She was valedictorian last year."

"Wow," Amy says, still looking at the picture.

"I know," Steve nodded. Pointing to their little girl with straight black hair and yellow-tinted white complexion and closed almond shaped eyes because she blinked, "That's Sophia. She's a second grader," moving on, Steve pointed to the older girl with the tawny, golden-brown skin and almond shaped eyes, he continued, "That's Liz. She moved to Maine to live with her forever family and is a freshman in college. She still occasionally calls." Finger landing on the boy with sandy blond hair and sun-kissed golden-white skin, "That's Tommy, he's in California with his forever family. He's a senior in high school."

Steve smiled down at the portrait before placing it back on his desk. It wasn't even all the kids that he and Bucky had fostered over the years, but it was one of his favorites. Just as the other ones on his desk. Especially one of Mimi Sarah and Nana Winnie baking with Ethan, Sophia, and Jonas. The young man proudly sporting one of Sarah's frilly, floral aprons while Ethan joyously held up matching oven-mitt clad hands. There was flour covering almost every surface, including themselves, but their smiles were all that mattered to Steve.

Much like how the portrait of Katie, Luke, and Ethan fishing with Pop Pop George and Auntie Tibs filled him up with the bubbly happiness. Their grins as they held up their catches of the day were priceless. Even if the fishes caught were so puny it was comical.

Sure, Steve didn't have a picture of everyone he loved. But he did at home. Their walls holding framed family portraits and every day candids from the snapshots of their lives that Steve wanted to keep forever. There were school photos and polaroids that Bucky showed off whenever given the opportunity.

Clearing her throat, Amy regained Steve's attention and she asked, "How long have you and your husband been married?"

Smiling, Steve ran his thumb over the rings on his left finger, "We celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary in August. But we were together for twelve years before that."

"Congratulations," she said. Steve noticed the way her eyes went glassy with unshed tears and she explained, "I'm sorry. My husband left us recently and I --"

Not knowing what else to do, Steve grabbed the box of tissues from his desk and held them out to her. A kind smile on his face as she took a couple. Steve couldn't blame her from crying in a complete stranger's classroom. He couldn't imagine if -- Nope, not speaking that into existence! After all, Steve knew what it felt like to lose Bucky. Even after all those years together, sometimes Steve would remember how he threw Bucky out of his life over a misunderstanding and got irrationally angry at his younger self.

"Thank you," Amy sniffled. Standing up, she gestured towards the door, "I should go before I make an even bigger fool of myself."

Awkwardly, Steve walked her across the classroom to the door, "Have a nice night."

"You, too," Amy answered, clutching onto the tissues in her hands as she turned to leave.

Huffing out a breath, he spun on his heel to look up at the clock. He still had a full hour left. Sighing, Steve shoved his shirt sleeves up to his elbows and got back to rearranging the classroom. If nothing else came from the night, at least he could say that he had gotten something productive done.