Chapter Text
The scrap of fabric that served as a shower curtain in the tenement’s bathroom always made Steve nervous. In the morning, the sun came through the grimy window behind the shower and cast a silhouette of whoever was in there, and the lock tended to stick. Steve tried to shower as quickly as possible when the door was acting up. Today, the bite of the winter air had warped the wood of the door jam, so Steve didn’t bother with the lock.
Quickly, quickly: face, armpits, feet. He was working on borrowed time and limited quantities of hot water. Steve turned his back to the door to wash his privates. No one had ever walked in on him bathing before, but he had a deep-seated fear of it happening—even more so when he was lathering up his bits.
Someone knocked at the door and Steve dropped his bar of soap. “Steve, you in there?” It was Bucky’s voice, thank God.
“Yeah, Buck! Give me a sec!” he shouted over the din of the water. He bent to retrieve his soap just as Bucky burst through the door. The brunet whistled.
“I had ta piss like a racehorse, but now I’m gonna have to wait for this lazy lob to go away,” he laughed.
“Buck!” Steve cried, indignant.
“I’m just teasin’, Christ.” Bucky’s belt buckle jangled as he undid his fly and leaned over the toilet. They didn’t have much in the way of boundaries these days, not since they moved in together. They’d been fooling around since before they knew what sex was, but this was the first time in their lives they were free to talk about it. Steve was still getting used to it.
Steve shut off the tap and groped blindly for his towel just as Bucky finished urinating. He dried his hair before wrapping the threadbare thing around his waist. “Buck, you didn’t lock the door, didja?”
“Course I did,” Bucky replied, grinning that cock-sure smile that half-infuriated, half-charmed Steve every time. He rolled his eyes and twisted the knob with one small hand. It didn’t turn. The door was stuck. Steve swore under his breath.
“Welp,” Bucky said behind him, sounding not at all displeased. In fact, he clapped his hands and rubbed his palms together. “Looks like we’re stuck. Whatever are we going to do while we wait for rescue?”
Steve elbowed the other man in the ribs. Bucky yelped like Steve stabbed him.
“This is serious, ya know that? I don’t wanna spend my day off locked in the godforsaken bathroom!” Steve groused, plopping down on the edge of the sink. Bucky eyed him speculatively as he rubbed his side, his smile just touching the corners of his mouth.
“Can’t decide if you look like sex incarnate or a boiled chicken. Either way, I want my mouth on you,” he said.
“You have a real way with words, Buck,” Steve replied, rolling his eyes. Bucky was already sliding his suspenders off and dropping his trousers. A moment later, the brunet was as naked as Steve.
“What are you doing? We can’t do that here!” the blond hissed. His eyes dropped to the dark thicket of hair between Bucky’s legs, though, and the hardening cock nestled there. God, he could look at those that body and tanned skin all day long—just not in this bathroom.
“Course not. We don’t got lube. I can hold you, at least,” Bucky replied, gathering him up. Steve rested his cheek against the other man’s shoulder out of habit. Bucky’s growing erection prodded against his stomach; Steve was sure Bucky felt his against his hip.
“I wouldn’t mind spendin’ my day like this,” Bucky mumbled into Steve’s hair.
“Mm, but we don’t got lube,” Steve reminded him with a smile. He dug his fingertips into Bucky’s ribcage until the other man laughed. The sound set Steve off on his own peal of giggles until they were both leaning on each other, gasping for breath.
“But really, Buck, how are we gonna get out of here without no one suspecting?” Steve asked, eyes dancing.
Bucky held Steve close to him while he studied the door, his gears turning. Steve was no good with mechanics, so he studied Bucky instead: the way he drew his lip into his mouth when he was deep in thought, the crinkle around his eyes when he smiled. He was so in love with him, sometimes he thought his stupid heart was going to give out. Steve curled himself around Bucky while the brunet took the door apart in his head.
“You think I could use a button from my trousers to unscrew the lock plate?” Bucky finally asked.
Steve, who was growing impatient and wanted to be in a room with Vaseline, sighed heavily. “For Christ’s sake, Buck,” he groaned. He stepped out of Bucky’s arms and attempted to stomp-kick the door open, but only succeeded in rattling it in its frame and stubbing his toes.
“Idiot,” Bucky snapped, stopping to put his pants on before hitting the door hard with his shoulder. It swung open, giving the “confirmed bachelor” Mr. Bledsoe a good view of a naked, cursing Steve jumping up and down on one foot. He stooped to collect his mail and entered his apartment, but not before casting a suspiciously long look in their direction.
“Come on, twinkle toes, let’s go dirty you up again,” Bucky smirked.
Steve wrapped his towel around his waist in a huff, but followed him anyway.