dysmorphics | it's you and me up against the world, it's you and me

Bucky couldn't help groaning softly as he settled into the large tub beside his wife. He hadn't been sure what to expect from what was a large, bubbly tub of hot water, but holy cow, the water felt good.

After relaxing for a minute, he smiled at Steph and took the glass from her. "I don't know when these things are gonna get invented, but once they are, I want one," he told her matter-of-factly.

Hell, if they didn't live in an apartment, he might have wanted to convince Stark to build them something like it.

Draping an arm around Steph's shoulders, he pulled her into his side as he took a sip of the mead. "Oh, this shit's pretty good."

"We're gonna need a bigger apartment at this rate," Steph teased. "Or maybe even a house." Sure, houses were expensive back in the 40s, but she had 21st century money. They could afford it, unless Bucky's pride wouldn't let her pay for it, or if it would bring unwanted attention. She remembered how there had been crazy rumors about the Winter Soldier having a secret stash of Nazi gold. (Which might even come up at the trial. She would have to make sure Matt had that covered.)

She pressed into her husband's side with a contented sigh. It was kind of nice to live in luxury, even just for a few nights, after all they had been through during the war and the few years after. This was practically their honeymoon anyway, so she didn't mind shelling out.

"Yeah, it's what gives the gods their audacity," she said with a chuckle. "Trust me though, you'll wanna go slow. We're just mere mortals." He might be surprised that she meant that unironically. She'd yet to tell him about Thor and Loki and the gods of Asgard.

"I used to picture that, you know," Bucky said, his smile softening as he turned his head to press a kiss to her hair. "Us growing up, getting married, and getting a little house somewhere." There were even a few real houses in Brooklyn that he'd pictured when he thought about it.

"I always imagined just me and you, so we didn't need anywhere big." Once, when they were still teenagers, she'd mentioned that the doctors said she shouldn't try to have kids in the future, it would be too dangerous for her, and Bucky had filed that knowledge away in his mind. She'd been heartbroken about it when she told him, so he never brought it up to her again after that. But he remembered. "Just somewhere big enough so there would be plenty of room for you to work on your art and for me to keep all my books."

Bucky took another small sip of his mead before setting the flute aside, leaving it on the side of the hot tub where the built in cup holders were.

Steph closed her eyes and leaned against him, catching what Bucky wasn't saying. "I used to imagine that too, until the doctors..." She trailed off, sighing. "I thought that was why you started seeing other people. I tried to be gracious, to be the bigger person, but I was so angry. You deserved to be with someone who would make you happy, who would take care of you and give you children. But, selfishly, I wanted that to be me. It wasn't fair that it couldn't be me."

She set her flute aside then too, curling an arm around him as she rested her head on his shoulder. "You think that house we like is still on the market?" He knew which one she meant, even if neither of them had gone there in years, not since that heartbreaking conversation with the doctors. How they used to sneak in there and spend hours playing as if they owned the place. People said it was haunted by the ghost of its owner, who died in the same war that killed Steph's father, so nobody ever really noticed the pair of them trespassing.

Bucky laughed softly, reminded once again about what giant idiots the two of them were. "You were still the only one I wanted, sweetheart. I just switched to picturing a life with just us two. Kids were never a must for me. I could take 'em or leave 'em, but you were a must." He'd explained before why he'd ended up going on dates with other girls, and how it was never because he thought he'd like them. Mostly, it was just to get them or his Ma off his back.

But at the mention of the house, he grinned. "If it is it'd need a lotta work by now," he told her. It had been years since he'd seen anyone try to live there, but it'd also been years since he'd gone and checked on it. "But I don't know, maybe fixing it up would be good for us."

"That should keep us busy for a while," Steph agreed. It might just be what they need to successfully transition from constantly being in survival mode during the war to relative domesticity. That had been what she struggled to imagine when she considered retiring after returning the Stones, going from being needed by everyone to being just another person in New York. It was freedom from a life of fighting, but then what? Thankfully, Bucky helped nip her existential crisis in the bud and gave her something to live for. She would always be in his debt for that.

"We're gonna need a secret basement built anyway," she continued, only half-joking. After all, they would need to stash their haul from the future somewhere and appear as normal as possible, if they were to keep the government off their backs. "And someplace to install a jacuzzi. No idea when this got invented, so we might have to keep it quiet for a while."

She reached for her flute to take another sip of the mead, going much faster than he was. Despite that, she was in no rush to get out of the tub. The water was nice, and sitting next to her husband was even more so.

"Sounds like we're gonna go house shopping when we go back." Maybe they'd even do it without mentioning to his parents what they were doing, almost like how he'd sprung oh, I got married yesterday on them the day after he married Steph.

But he'd already married his dream woman, and they'd started to make peace with the other versions of themselves, so working towards building a genuine life with her sounded good to him. And if they got a house that needed some fixing up it would give them something to focus on, so that would be good, too. They could make it into exactly whatever sort of home they wanted.

He did want one of these Jacuzzis, though. And several other things he'd seen in the last twelve hours.

"We'll get us a house with a pretty big basement and put up some kinda hidden door so it doesn't look as big as it is. But we'll also make sure you get your own art studio."

Steph wasn't surprised that Bucky wanted her to have her own art studio; he'd always been supportive of her art, even going as far as helping her scrape enough money for art classes after high school. She proceeded to tell him that she thought about getting an art degree after she woke up in the future, but SHIELD wanted their million dollar weapon back, and when she tried to get away and relocate to D.C., the Winter Soldier showed up and blew a hole in her apartment wall. The next time she had the chance to indulge in anything artistic, half the universe was gone and she was drinking herself blind with the stuff they were imbibing on now.

"I could maybe try my hand at comics or graphic novels?" she mused as she sipped some more of her mead. Was that a buzz coming on now? She kissed his shoulder, just because she could, and stayed in that position as she continued to talk. "I have enough Howling Commandos adventure stories in me. There was one time—"

Steph, it turned out, was a talker when tipsy. And very, very touchy, though that was really only around Bucky. Even while engrossed in recounting some of their experiences together — or, well, his counterpart, who had the luck of fighting alongside her during the war — her hands and mouth wouldn't stop moving, planting kisses and tracing shapes on his skin.

"You slung the shield on your back and carried me out, and Dum Dum gave us an earful for not telling them the plan, and I said, there was no plan, you abandoned your post and just ran in there after me. Howard lost us so we had to spend the night in town, but the locals were so happy we blew up that HYDRA outpost that they threw us a party and tried to marry us in some pagan ceremony."

Bucky found himself laughing along with her stories, even as he found himself wishing he had been the one protecting her. "I swear that man's more stupid than I am," he said, referring to the other Bucky as he smiled down at her. "I like to think I woulda tried to take them up on the sudden wedding." He would have at least watched her even harder to find any sign she wanted it, too. "But hey, his loss is my gain."

He was enjoying this side of his wife. The joking, the laughter, the nonstop touching. Telling him funny stories about her past and talking about possible future opportunities, while her hands and mouth didn't stop moving over his skin.

Picking up his glass, he took another small sip before setting it back aside, then let his hands slide over Steph's side and thigh. He was getting a buzz himself, but he wasn't really chasing it, just focused on enjoying himself. And her. "I've heard that people should write what they know," he started, giving her thigh a squeeze. "And not only do you know a million war stories, but you also spent all this time in the future. You could write about some future stuff and call it science fiction. Throw in the talking raccoon you told me about and no one would ever question if it was real or not."

Tilting his head down, he pressed a couple of kisses to her shoulder. "Or, hell, you're so damn talented you could go the classical art route. Doing paintings and whatnot. Anything you want, sweetheart."

Steph laughed brightly at Bucky's suggestion of repackaging her experiences as science fiction, especially when he mentioned Rocket. "Now that's an idea," she said, kissing his jaw. "You can be a sexy war hero from space." Because of course he would be the star. He was her muse. "I think people are gonna like that. You're so famous in our time."

He heard it right. She said our, not his, and it wasn't just a slip of the tongue. She didn't even notice it, continuing to spitball random ideas for characters and stories. "He's in love with his best friend, but he doesn't know she's followed him to space until some aliens marry them to save their planet." Well, okay, she'd have to workshop her ideas some more, but she was happy enough with how much he was touching and kissing her. That hand on her thigh was dangerously closing in on her sensitive spots.

"You really think I'm that good?" She supposed she could do paintings, like Frida Kahlo, but not self-portraits. "I'm just gonna end up painting you though. You're my favorite subject." Hell, he was her favorite everything. "You have the most beautiful eyes. The loveliest blue."

"Nah, you gotta at least change my name," Bucky said with another laugh. "You can't go writing stories about a guy in space named Bucky. I bet the Buck Rogers people would be on your ass in a heartbeat." Besides, he didn't want more fame. Hell, he didn't want the fame he already had.

"But a man who has always loved the same woman, even when he thought it was one-sided? I bet people would eat that up." Just because science fiction and fantasy were Bucky's favorite genres didn't mean he didn't read other things, too. Every once in a while he liked to grab a good romance, and that was the sort of thing you'd find in those books.

When she asked if he thought she was that good, however, he let go of her thigh so he could tilt her head up to look at him. "Don't be stupid, of course you're that good," he started, smiling as he tilted his head to give her a soft kiss. "You've always been my favorite artist. You're good enough to do anything you want with it."

"I was gonna use James," Steph teased, laughing because he never went by that name, and neither did all the others she knew, from Monty to Morita to Dernier to Rhodey. She also laughed because she apparently just realized, "You know, Buck Rogers sounds like your married name, if you took my name instead." But she was too old-fashioned to want anything other than being Mrs. Barnes, so changing his name was out of the question.

Then she hummed thoughtfully. "I could do a romance." She already had experience with book covers anyway. That would just be a step further. Planting kisses up his arm, she mused further, "Maybe they find each other at different points in time, and fall in love, but shit always happens." Hey, it might even be cathartic.

His continued belief in her talent was touching, primarily because it was something she'd always had even before the serum, even before she could properly see colors. So although he went for soft and sweet, she answered his kiss with a fierce one, filled with gratitude and so much love. "You're gonna have to let me draw you." She'd been asking, but he seemed to be embarrassed by the thought of posing for her and had yet to acquiesce.

Bucky also laughed when Steph put two and two together on Buck Rogers's name. "Steph, I've always loved science fiction and you. Of course I pegged that about his name the first time I saw a strip in the paper." Even Becca had noticed it when she saw what he was reading, and she teased him about it off and on for years. "Hell, I even half considered using that as my name during the five minutes I thought about grabbing you and running after I got my draft letter." It would have been an easy name for him to remember, but a hard name for him to convince others was real.

After the kiss broke, he shifted to press a few soft kisses along his wife's jaw. "You say that like I don't catch you sketching me all the time," he pointed out, more amused than anything. "I know I've caught you doing it when I'm reading, and I've woken up and found you drawing me. I don't know how me posing would be all that much different." Somehow, in his head, he just kept picturing having to awkwardly sit still for hours, as people did for those old stiff paintings.

Steph laughed too. "I guess it never really occurred to me because I knew from the beginning that if we ever married, I would take your name." Hell, she was even already using it before they got hitched. Thankfully Bucky didn't mind and even thought it was sweet.

She tilted her head so he could kiss down her neck, closing her eyes and moaning softly when he obliged. The water was relaxing, as was their conversation, and while the booze had chipped away at her inhibitions, it also left her with some sort of edge. His touches weren't helping either. "Posing gives me a good visual reference," was the technical explanation, which wasn't a lot of fun. What she really wanted to get at was, "I have a vivid imagination and a great memory, but I'd really rather be staring at your dick when I'm sketching it. You know, for inspiration."

Bucky grinned into Steph's skin when he heard her moan. He loved all the sounds he could bring out of her. His hand went back down to her thigh, sliding over her skin in the water easily as he kissed back up to her ear. "You know if you want me to get my dick out for you, all you've gotta do is ask," he teased her before nipping at the curve of her ear.

He didn't pause at all before moving her from her seat beside him and into his lap, then leaned in to kiss across the top of her chest instead of focusing on her neck. "I saw some of your old pinups today, by the way," he teased, hands moving to grope at her ass. "If those had existed in my time, I woulda ended up jerking off to them, you know."

"Oh, I always want your dick," Steph shot back with a breathless laugh. "At least once a day."

Thank fuck Bucky wasn't wasting any more time. She settled on his lap eagerly, head tipping back and body arching slightly when he started kissing across her chest. She didn't hate her curves anymore. In fact it was kind of hot seeing his face buried between her breasts, or when he would slide his cock between them.

"Yeah?" She opened her eyes and peered down at him. Her old pinups, huh? Tiny Steph must've found out about them and showed him. "Got a favorite?" She was embarrassed, sure, but the mental image of him jerking off to them brought her an unexpected thrill.

"Hey, I gotta keep my wife happy, don't I?" Even if she didn't want him to fuck her every day he'd still be doing everything he could to make her happy. It was all he'd ever wanted to do, after all.

"There was this one poster of you in that tight little dress and heels, sitting on a plane with one of those long legs straight out," he smirked a little more as he looked up at her, a glint in his eye. "I asked her to try to track down a copy of that one to take home with us."

Bucky teased at the top of her crack with the tips of his fingers on one hand while he brought the other up to cup one of her full breasts. Keeping his eyes on hers, he lifted it out of the water to suck her nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue as he felt it stiffen.

Oh no. Was Bucky going to frame it? Steph had a feeling he would. That was just the sort of affectionate teasing he would subject her to. "If you don't jerk off to it I'm gonna be disappointed," she teased back, and she did actually want to see that.

In the meantime she was treated to a view of her husband sucking on her nipple, and fuck, he was so hot. The water added to the atmosphere too; it looked like he'd freed one breast from her dress, but if her dress was made of liquid. She would have to draw this later.

She moaned, and as the sound echoed beautifully in the room she felt a burning need to hear him too. She reached below the water's surface to toy with his nipples, returning whatever he did with hers, pinching and tugging and flicking as he did.

Bucky groaned softly as she began to play with his nipples, releasing hers from his mouth for a moment. "I'll be sure to," he said, chuckling softly as he smirked at her. "I'll make sure to have my dick in hand while I look at it when you get home one day."

He bit at her breast lightly before stopping to suck a dark mark onto the milky white skin. Bucky knew it would heal and fade in no time, but he liked seeing it while it was there. "But I'm not gonna need to jerk it to a poster if I've got the real thing in front of me, am I?"

"Fuck, baby," Steph gasped, knowing exactly what Bucky was going for and liking it just as much as he did. "Maybe we oughta take photos before that disappears."

It wasn't the first time that idea crossed her mind, but it was certainly the first time she voiced it out loud. She wasn't even sure why she didn't say it before, not when she had a phone that could take unlimited pictures and a husband who was more than happy to both mark her up and take her photos. Shame? Doubt? Insecurity? Fear? Whatever held her back before, the booze had already quieted.

"Yeah? You want me to take pictures of these perfect tits of yours?" Bucky teased her before biting at her nipple again. "That way I'll be able to look at them any time I want. And you can look at the big hickey I left on there."

Well. Any time he wanted, as long as he was at home where that phone of hers lived. That wasn't exactly something he'd travel with.

He tightened his other arm around her waist and tugged her higher in his lap, letting his hardness rub against her. "I'd almost have my own personal one-of-a-kind Lady Liberty pinup photo."

Actually, that sounded like fun. Steph hadn't consciously indulged in anything fun for several years now, and with the alcohol buzzing in her system, she was feeling especially inclined to tonight. Besides, it didn't seem right that she posed for other people but not for her husband.

"Why leave only one?" At Bucky's encouragement she rocked her hips to rub against him, or at least the best she could in her position. "And I'll pose however you want." She might not have a ton of experience in bed, but she did in other areas.

Maybe this was the way to go about things. He wasn't keen on posing for her, but he was the one who owned a camera when they were younger, and he'd showed an interest in the app on her phone. She made a mental note to ask him later about taking back a camera or a phone for him, depending on what he preferred.

Bucky groaned, partly at the friction and partly at the whole idea of having a collection of photos of his stunning wife. "How bout you pose for me, then I'll pose for you?" he suggested, smirking a little up at her. "Sounds like a fair trade to me."

He reached up and tugged her down for a deep kiss, letting his tongue twist with hers until he needed air. "But that's for later. Right now I'd rather have you ride me." Bucky began to kiss and nibble along her neck again. "It's up to you if you wanna do that here in the tub or somewhere else in this hotel room."

"It doesn't have to be a trade," Steph said, but Bucky could tell that she was delighted by the offer, even before she spent the next several minutes kissing him and trying to shove her tongue down his throat. She didn't even have anything particular planned for that; she could draw him while he rested in between rounds, content and at peace. That she would love to commit to paper, a reminder that the war had not taken everything from him, not this time.

But, like he said, that was for later. Her husband wanted her to ride him and she was going to do a damn good job and leave him thoroughly satisfied. "Have I told you how sexy you are when you tell me what to do?" she said with a grin while he nibbled along her neck. Despite their constant banter and ribbing while growing up, he'd always been a gentleman with her, and he almost always did whatever she wanted. That applied to their sex life now too, which was great, but it sure as hell turned her on when he'd call the shots and boss her around for a change.

"Let's take this to the bedroom," she decided. "Much better view, and I want you to feel how wet you make me." It was also probably easier to replace a bed than a jacuzzi, in case she damaged anything. She hadn't so far, and they'd fucked plenty, but the buzz from the booze was making her more adventurous and reckless than usual.

When Steph stood up in the tub Bucky couldn't help groaning at the sight of her perfect body with the water running off of it. "Have I told you how sexy you are all the time?" he countered, smirking as he stood and helped her out of the water.

After taking one more sip of his mead, Bucky climbed out of the tub as well. Buzzed or not, he still had his head enough to help Steph towel off, taking his time going over the curves and dips of her body before just quickly drying himself off. Once that was done, he took his wife by the hand and led her back to the bedroom.

Stopping beside the bed, he pulled her close and smiled up at her. "I love you, Stephanie Barnes," he told her simply before pulling her down into another kiss. He loved her, and he loved that she had his name now. It was one of those things he'd thought about for years, and he couldn't be happier for it to finally be real.

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