Love Grows: Love Series 1 (demon!Bucky and pre-serum!Steve omegaverse au)

3

THE FOLLOWING MONDAY, Steve and Hodge were late.

"There you are! We were so worried!" Mrs. Erskine pulled the pair into her home. Smoothing her hand over Steve's hair like his mother would.

When Steve had first moved out on his own, he had joined another male omega, a non-binary omega, and a female beta. Dr. Erskine and his lovely wife, Greta, lived next door, and eventually became second parents to the younger neighbors. Helping out with emergencies such as: The Time Carol Almost Fell Off the Fire Escape Trying to Catch a Firefly and The Time Sam Almost Choked to Death on a Marshmallow. Dr. Abraham Erskine, he was German with a thick accent, he was a retired professor, and he wrote a series of adventure books for children that Greta illustrated.

Now, every month or so, Steve and Hodge had dinner with Abraham and Greta. They were far better cooks than Steve could ever hope to be, even if Greta gave him the same recipe, it never came out right. But the same happened with the cards his mother gave him, so maybe it was just Steve.

Greta asked, "How're you? How was the move? How do you like it so far? Have you met the neighbors? Are they nice?"

At the barrage of questions, Greta's dear husband asked, "You moved?"

"We're sub-letting," Hodge answered, toeing off his shoes.

"Oh?" Abraham opened a bottle of wine, "And where should we be sending the housewarming gift?"

"Stark Tower," Steve took a seat at the already set table.

CRASH!

Startled, Steve, Hodge, and Greta directed their attention to the older man. Concerned, Greta asked her husband, "Darling, are you alright?"

"Fine. I'm fine."

The answer was too quick though and Steve knew that he wasn't the only one who knew Abraham was lying. No one was going to call him out for it though. Instead, Hodge crouched so he could help clean up the mess from the shattered bottle of white wine. While Greta went to Abraham, Steve went to the hall closet for the broom.

"You nearly scared me to death," Greta chastised her beloved.

"I'm sorry, dear."

"Is your arthritis acting up?" Hodge asked, disposing of the larger pieces of the bottle.

"No," Abraham assured. "I was just surprised."

"Surprised?" Steve's brows furrowed, putting the broom away.

"Well," Abraham began cleaning his glasses, "Yes."

Hodge good-humoredly scoffed. Greta, on the other hand, was giving her spouse a stern look. The older betas clearly having a silent conversation. It reminded Steve of his parents. Reminded him of how his mom would look at his dad whenever a conversation was inappropriate for Steve to witness.

"I'm not sure if you're aware," Abraham started, avoiding Greta's looks. "But Stark Tower had a rather unpleasant reputation in the beginning."

Steve glanced over at Hodge, seeing if he had any idea what the older beta was going to say. Hodge looked just about as curious as Steve did.

"It doesn't have a bad reputation anymore," Hodge shrugged. "In fact, everyone seems to be dying to get in."

"It's still where the She-Witch of the S.S. performed her experiments, and where Agatha Harkness held her parties. Silvan Jules lived there too; and so did the serial killer, Cletus Kasady."

"Who was the She-Witch of the S.S.?" Hodge asked, and Steve asked, "Who was Silvan Jules?"

"The She-Witch of the S.S.," Abraham started while Greta busied herself with finishing the pasta, "Was Hilda von Hate. She killed several children in hopes of reanimating them for an unstoppable army of Hitler Youth."

"Lovely," Hodge commented, looking at the empty wine glass in front of him as though he wished Abraham hadn't dropped the bottle.

A shiver ran down Steve's spine, horrified and heartbroken for those poor children and their families.

"Silvan Jules practiced witchcraft. He made quite a splash by announcing that he had succeeded in summoning Satan. Apparently, he had a handful of hair and some black claws. Whether or not it was true, some people believed him. Enough people, at least, to form a mob that attacked – and nearly killed – him in the Stark Tower lobby."

"You're joking," Steve gaped, never having heard of anything like that happening.

"He's serious," Greta answered, setting the serving dish with pasta primavera on the table.

"I'm not sure how Howard Stark's son managed to turn the reputation around, but he did it and made it one of the most desired buildings to call home. Instead of, of course, what they used to call it, Stank Tower, where sensible people stayed away."

Looking over at his husband, Steve wasn't as thrilled about the upscale apartment as he had once been. After all, how could soil like that not stay sour?

"Oh, c'mon, Erskine," Hodge chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, "Awful things probably happen in every apartment now and then."

"Now and then, sure," Abraham agreed. Taking a bite of the pasta, "The point is, though, that at Stark Tower awful things happen a good deal more frequently than 'now and then.' Including –"

"Abraham," Greta warned, clearly wanting the conversation to end. It wasn't exactly dinner talk, anyway.

"No, no," Hodge encouraged the older man, "Including..."

"Including the pack of feral pups who had been found in the basement feasting on a dead infant."

For a moment, the room was silent. Abraham kept eating as though he hadn't described a nightmare. Greta stood and, at first, Steve felt the need to comfort her, but then she grabbed another bottle of pinot grigio. Popping the cork, she set forth to pour it for them. Standing beside her husband though, she flicked his ear. Clearly, unamused with the topic of discussion.

"But just because a building has bad things happen in it, doesn't make it bad," Greta tried to soothe the situation.

"I suppose," Abraham considered. "Perhaps it's simply the notoriety of the She-Witch that attracts a Silvan Jules, and his notoriety attracts an Agatha Harkness, and eventually it becomes a rallying place for people who are more prone than others to certain types of behavior. Or perhaps there are things we don't know yet – like a magnetic field or electrons or whatever – ways in which a place can quite literally be malign."

Steve finished his bite of pasta. "Maybe there are good houses too. Houses where people keep falling in love and getting married and having babies."

"And becoming stars," Hodge added.

"There probably are," Abraham agreed.

"It's the stinkers that get the publicity," Greta smiled.

"Exactly," Steve said while Abraham toasted, "May Stank Tower stay in the past and Stark Tower bring nothing short of prosperity."

"Hear, hear!" Hodge clinked his glass of white wine against Abraham's.

"Hear, hear!" Steve and Greta echoed.

And bring forth a healthy baby, Steve privately toasted to himself, smiling at his husband, clinking their glasses together.