Random gay one shots

Stucky- Second Languages

Word Count: 1971
Labels/warnings: fluff, some angst, mutual pinning, and a little very light smut
    Bucky sat in English class across from his best friend since childhood. They had a sub today so everyone in the class was messing around.
      "Whatcha writing, Stevie?"
     "My names not Stevie." He reminded the dark-haired Romanian in front of him.
         "Sorry." Bucky waited for 'not Stevie' to answer the question. When Steve stayed silent he tried again. "Dude. C'moooonnnnnnn, whatcha drawing?"
        "Stop whining and maybe I'll tell you," sassed the blonde.
      "Okay. Fine. So whatcha drawing?" Bucky plopped himself on his desk swung his legs.
       "I'm not drawing anything. I'm writing." Steve replied smugly.
       "Aww, c'mon that's not fair. I thought we were friends! Steve! Telllllll meeeeeeeeeee-"
        "Fine!" Steve shoved the paper toward Bucky. "Read it yourself." He mock-pouted.
        "Yay!" Bucky spun around and pulled his legs up to sit criss cross and face Steve. "Careful! The desk'll fall again!" Steve warned. They were sitting in those stupid 2-in-1 desk and chair things. They had 3 legs are were incredibly easy to break, as demonstrated by the ever-growing piles of them in the hallways.
        Bucky waved his friend off and grabbed the paper, prepared for one of Steve's amazing stalker drawings of Bucky he was always sketching when he thought Bucky isn't looking.
Cher, Buck je vous aime beaucoup et je prie dieu que vous no connassez pas la français.
          "Soooo... what's it say?" Bucky inquired. He wouldn't admit it, but he was slightly disappointed that it wasn't a stalker picture. He had more than a few on the walls in his room alongside some pictures of them that he printed at rite-aid; not that Steve needed to know that.
         "Figure it out," Steve muttered. Bucky could've sworn the blonde's cheeks were tinted pink, but that could just be him projecting.
         "But I don't even speak French. I speak Romanian. Can't you just tell me in Romanian? Or you know, a language we both know. Say, English?"
         "Wellllllll, I could... but I'd much rather watch you struggle," he teased.
         "Really Steve? Just tell me!" Steve nodded no. "Fine." Bucky got a mischievous look on his face and uncrossed his legs. "Please?"
           "Hmmmmm..." Steve fake considered it. "Na."
        Bucky placed a leg on either side of where Steve sat in his desk. He started to slide forward. "Bucky don't do it! We're not both gunna fit!"Steve warned. But Bucky didn't care. He slid forward so he was sitting on Steve's lap squishing them together in the tiny space between the chair and the desk. He wrapped his arms around Steve's neck resting his elbow on the back of the chair so he could run his fingers through Steve's hair.
           "Aww c'mon!" Steve laughed.
"Really buck?" He wanted to laugh it off, but he felt his blush growing brighter each second Bucky spent wrapped around him. "These are not meant to hold two 16-year-olds," Steve tried to reason while also trying to find a place to put his head that wasn't Bucky's chest or armpit.
         "Well it's a good thing I'm 17, isn't it Stevie." He quipped back.
         "Buck, seriously. You're squishing me and your hairs in my face."
         "Fine," Bucky whispered into his friend's ear. He pulled back so he could look Steve in the eye. Unfortunately, the spacing between the seat and the chair didn't allow for more than an inch between their faces when they faced each other. "I guess I'll just have to learn French then," he spoke only half-jokingly seductive while staring down into his friend's blue eyes. Steve felt his face burning and prayed that Bucky was to focused on his eyes to notice.
          "Bleh." Bucky threw himself on to the floor dramatically. Steve offered a hand to pull him back up, which Bucky took, jumping up into the air unnecessarily. "So," he picked up the paper again.
        "I think this is addressed to me because French is a beautiful language and 'Buck' doesn't sound very beautiful. Am I right?"
         "No," Steve replied, almost sounding hurt.
        "Oh, okay um," Bucky was a bit taken aback. "Sorry I didn't mean to think it was about me. I just-"
         "No!" Steve interrupted. "It's is to you. That's not why I said no." Steve looked down shyly as he fiddled with his pen.
       "Oh?" Bucky questioned. "Care to elaborate?"
       "Buck is pretty." He mumbled. Then, looking up to Bucky, "Why would I give my best friend an ugly nickname? What kind of a douche do you think I am?"
"Okay. Fair." He smiled as he stared at the paper. "So it says dear buck, you are something something something that you don't know something the french. That's as much as I can get from 3 years of Spanish and assuming the words are similar in roots."
"You're right so far," Steve said while chewing in his pen cap.
"Okay, and aime looks like amor so love? And beaucoup looks like buttercup so the girl from Princess Bride. And dieu is like diez so 10? 'Anime bee-a-cup ET je pre- diez'... dear Bucky, you love buttercup before 10?"
Steve could barely contain his laughter as Bucky thought aloud. He sputtered a laugh at the end, throwing himself into a fit of laughter that threatened an asthma attack. "Not-hahaha-quite-hahahahahahahhaahah-"
"Okay fine then, weenie. I'll just use google translate!" Bucky pulled out his phone and started typing.
"No!" Steve lunged for the paper but was stuck in 2-in-1 desk-chair hell. "Bucky seriously give it back!"
"Hmmmmm..." he mock considered like Steve had earlier. "Na, I'm good."
"Buck I'm not kidding!" Steve pleaded as he scrambled to get up and grab Bucky's phone.
"Okay let's see!" He ignored Steve's pleas and held the phone above his head while it loaded. 'God, the school WiFi is slow.' Steve had a tendency to be dramatic so Bucky had learned to ignore the complaints. 'Although that doesn't always work out so well' Bucky thought to himself. Like when Steve said he would throw up if they went on The Cyclone at Coney Island. That was a mistake. 'Maybe I shouldn't-' his thoughts were interrupted by google finishing loading and speaking aloud.
"Okay. Here's what I got: 'Dear Buck, I love you a lot and I am praying to God you don't know French."
Oh.
Bucky couldn't believe it. Steve, liked him back? He turned around to face Steve, but instead, he saw the blonde running out the door. "Steve!" Bucky ran after him. "Steve wait!" Behind him, he heard the sub asking if that was allowed and the class giving an unconvincing 'yeah' as a response.
Luckily for Bucky, Steve wasn't a fast runner. And Bucky knew all his hideouts. So when Steve disappeared around a corner, Bucky knew which abandoned janitor closet Steve had stolen keys to. He walked up to the door and knocked. "Steve? I know you're in there. Please open the door."
Steve didn't respond but Bucky heard his muffled cries and shaking breaths inside confirming that his best friend was in there. "Steve you know I have my own set of keys, just open it."
There was no movement. Bucky sighed dramatically, pulled his bag around, and started rummaging through it for his keys. Before he could find them in his mess of a bag, the door clicked open. "Thank you, Stevie." Bucky steps inside and sat down next to Steve, who had his knees pulled to his chest, almost in a fetal position.
"Hey." Bucky pulled the inhaler that he carried out of his pocket and handed it to Steve. He started doing that in 5th grade when Steve had an asthma attack during PE and forgot his inhaler. Steve took it, careful not to touch Bucky, and sprayed the nasty powder into his lungs. After a few minutes, he spoke up, "Thank you."
"Of course. You're my best friend, and..." he paused. Bucky reached out slowly, like he was approaching a wild animal that might run, and grabbed Steve's hands. He held them in his own and waited until Steve looked up to match his gaze. "Steve? You know I love you, right?"
He felt Steve's pulse speed up in his hands. "And I don't just mean as a friend, or even as a brother. I love you, Stevie, okay? I'm never gunna leave you."
Steve sniffled and pulled his hands back to wipe his nose on his sleeve. "Okay," was all he could manage to reply with.
"Com'ere," Bucky opened his arms for Steve to crawl into, which he did after a small laugh and a smile. They fit so perfectly, cuddled on the floor, arms wrapped around each other. Eventually, Bucky pulled back. "Can I um," he took a breath and tried to calm his heartbeat. "Can we try something?" Steve nodded.
Bucky leaned forward unsure of what to do next. Lucky for him, Steve didn't need any further prompting. He pressed his lips to Buckys and kissed him like there was no tomorrow. Steve brought his hands up and wrapped them tightly into Buckys long hair, pulling him back slightly, only to make up for it by pushing his mouth harder against Buckys.
Bucky, on the other hand, was entirely lost. He never kissed a boy before, and certainly never made out with anyone, not that anyone who knew how much of a flirt he was would believe that. He flirted with everyone, even teachers. But that was just words. This was, this was...
He didn't have words. So he may have just sat there for a solid 5 seconds before his brain clicked and said 'hey maybe you should be moving your mouth right about now' which he promptly did, allowing Steve tongue to tease the inside of his mouth every so often. It took another 10 seconds for Steve to realize that Bucky has no clue what he was supposed to be doing with his hands, so Steve untangled his hands from Buckys hair, earning a sad whine from the boy, and grabbed Buckys hands, placing them in the sides of his face. From there, Bucky took the rather obvious hint and with a small, slight slightly embarrassed 'oh' held Steve in his hands, allowing Steves to go back to pulling at his hair.
They stayed like that, awkwardly fumbling about and kissing in the janitor's closet until they heard a loud ringing, signaling the end of class.
"Oh fuck!" "Shit!"
"We gotta get outta here before people get in the halls! Go! Go!" Steve yelled as he shoved Bucky out the door.
"My shirt!" Bucky yelled as he fell out the door, Steve behind him. Bucky pulled down his shirt, which was now not only inside out, but also backward and smoothed his long hair out as best he could as people started to flood the hallway. He turned to look at Steve who was holding back a laugh. How did Steve manage to get his shirt on the right way?! "What?" He asked when Steve began to giggle. "Nothing." He laughed even more.
Buck narrowed his eyes. "Steve."
"No, Buck, really it's nothin," He paused. "You just bruise easily, that's all." He spoke innocently but started backing away as soon as he finished speaking.
Bucky pulled out his phone and looked at himself in the camera. He had light, almost unnoticeable, bruises all down his jaw, neck and on his collar bone. Really, that was fine, but the bruise on the side his bottom lip from Steve getting a little too excited which complemented his swollen lips in a way that could only be from something sexual was a dead giveaway. "I swear to god Rogers!" Steve began running down the hall, laughing maniacally all the while. "I'll get you for that!"