Chapter Text

Guys and Dolls

Steve tries his best not to think about how the world around him is so uncannily foreign in its familiarity. The walls are all the same colors. The furniture hasn’t moved. The posters and art on the walls are the same. It’s his home, it’s been his home for two years now, he knows all of it. But even though he knows that nothing has changed, nothing feels right. Everything feels wrong, everything is different, nothing feels like his home. The warm shade of yellow that was his living room is neon now, it’s burning, it drops him into this massive room, with massive furniture and huge weights that could fall on him at any time. Steve feels dropped into The Yellow Wallpaper and the wraiths behind the cracks and bumps in the paint move with the grace of the fae and the ballet in how they stalk him and they seek to step on him.

Bucky is the only thing that doesn’t feel oppressive in his size and Steve still doesn’t want to think about it. He gives it a few passing thoughts, anyway. Bucky has always made Steve feel small, they have played with that sensation for over four years now, that Bucky is bigger and he can overpower him and physically crush him, that is something that Bucky has used to emotionally break Steve down and build him back up since they chose to embrace that kind of power play. And maybe that’s why being thrown into this drastic physical change, Steve is afraid of the yellow and blue walls, but not of Bucky’s vast hands and his barrel chest.

Because that’s how they have always been. Steve has always been this weak little fairy and Bucky has always been the forbidden, enchanted forest surrounding him. That feels safe to him when everything else doesn’t.

“What the fuck is this?” Steve demands.

Bucky gives him a non-committal gesture and a bemused noise. “It’s miniature stuff,” he claims.

Steve holds up a bright pink mermaid dress. “These are Barbie clothes.”

“And you’re the size of a Barbie!” Bucky claims.

“Have I ever worn something this gaudy?” Steve asks.

“Well,” Bucky starts hesitantly.

Steve laughs and tosses the dress aside. It doesn’t feel like it would be very comfortable anyway. He picks through the box of clothes, eventually pulling out a stretchy, cable-knit tank top in verticle white and red stripes, and a long black skirt of the same material. The Barbie pants, for the most part, looked like they won’t fit him, but the stretchy material will probably be fine.

“I kinda just bought a bunch’a stuff,” Bucky says.

“It’s fine,” Steve insists, stepping into the skirt. “This fits fine.”

He pulls the skirt around his waist and settles it, then stands up, putting his hands on his hips. 

“Well?” he asks.

“You should dress like that more often,” Bucky says firmly.

Steve strikes a pose, holding a hand to his forehead and his hip dramatically. Bucky laughs and Steve drops the pose, shaking out the top. He pulls it on, then smoothes the clothes out, trying to get over the weird feeling of being fully clothed but not wearing any underwear. It wasn’t like Mattel made Barbie-sized lingerie; Bucky bought some bikini bottoms, which were almost underwear, but they didn’t really look very comfortable either.

“Well?” Bucky prompts.

“This is nice,” Steve says, nodding as he looks up. “I won’t be cold, at least.” 

“Oh, here!” Bucky adds, digging through the pile himself. “Here.”

He tugs out a pair of bright purple leg warmers. Steve looks at them, then bursts out laughing.

“They didn’t have any socks!” Bucky insists.

Steve drops onto the glass tabletop under him, landing on his hip, and holds his gut with his laughter. Bucky shakes his head and drops the leg warmers onto the table.

“This is fine,” Steve insists, hiccuping a little. “I don’t need leg warmers.”

“Well, you were cold a lot,” Bucky says, “I just wanted to be sure you were comfortable!”

Steve pushes up and walks up to where Bucky’s leaning on the coffee table, his arms folded on the edge. He touches Bucky’s face, the corners of his smile, then leans against him, running his fingers through Bucky’s beard. Bucky cups his back, gently touching him.

“I’m okay,” Steve says. “I even have a pool.”

Bucky snorts. Steve pulls away from him and climbs off the table onto the dollhouse’s patio, pulling up his skirt to sit down on the edge of the plastic pool; perfectly sized for him. He looks up at Bucky and grins.

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” Bucky admits.

“I love it,” Steve insists, kicking his feet a little in the room-temperature water. 

Bucky leans his elbow on the table and grins, watching Steve. Steve tugs his clothes back off, leaving them on the side of the pool, and hops in. 

“It’s fucking bougie,” Bucky says.

“Yeah, but it’s fun!” Steve insists, splashing a little.

Bucky laughs. Steve reaches for him and Bucky leans in to kiss his forehead with gentle lips.

“You’re cute, puppy,” Bucky murmurs.

Steve splashes him. Bucky jerks back, then snorts and flicks his fingers in the water to splash him back. Steve giggles and drops down to his knees in the water, getting in to his shoulders.

“You might be cute, but you’re also a brat,” Bucky says.

“Despite that, you love me,” Steve points out.

“I think that’s part of it,” Bucky says.

Steve grins cheesily, hugging his knees to his chest. Bucky flicks the water again, then pushes back and starts gathering up the doll clothes.

“I’ll just put these in a donation box or something,” Bucky says. 

“Some little girl’s gonna love them,” Steve adds.

Bucky shoots him a smile, dropping the frilly hems and pink bows into a box. Steve leans back in the water and dunks his head, shakes his hair out, then sits up again and turns onto his knees to wade over to the edge. Bucky grabs a washcloth and holds it out for him, and Steve smiles and takes it, climbing out of the plastic pool.

“I'm hungry," Steve announces. "You think the Barbie dishes will actually work for food?"

"No clue," Bucky says. "But we can try. What do you wanna eat?"

Steve hums, thinking. He sits down on a plastic patio lounger and hugs the fluffy washcloth around him. Bucky props his cheek on a hand and leans on the coffee table, smiling at him. Steve flushes, breaks into a grin, and pulls the washcloth around his face. Bucky grins back and sticks a finger out to poke his stomach. Steve laughs and bats it away. 

"You're cute," Bucky declares. 

Steve yanks the washcloth over his head, squeaking. Outside, he hears Bucky laughing and for a moment, he can pretend everything is normal. 

"How about Chinese?" Bucky suggests. "Noodles should be easy to cut up small."

"Okay," Steve says, muffled by the cloth.

Abruptly, he feels hands around him and he's being lifted. Steve yelps again and scrambles to grab onto something as Bucky scoops him up and cups him in his palms. Steve does his best to scowl at him, but Bucky just grins and squeezes him gently.

"I could eat you up," he says. "Are you warm enough? You wanna get dressed?"

Steve snuggles his washcloth closer, but nods. Bucky puts him down carefully on the coffee table, then hands him the clothes he'd picked out. Steve scrubs himself down one more time, then takes the skirt first and steps into it. Bucky gingerly opens up the tank top and Steve, grinning, sticks his arms up. Bucky pulls it over his head and settles the hem around his hips, then lightly rubs a finger in his hair.

"Cute?" Steve asks cheekily.

Bucky snorts. "Adorable," he confirms. "You always are, puppy."

Steve grins, then holds his arms out again. Bucky scoops him up one more time, then takes him close and cradles him against his chest. 

"You get comfy," Bucky tells him, "I'm gonna order food."

"Sir, yes, sir," Steve says, snuggling down happily. 

The food arrives after an hour, the delivery person ringing the bell from the entrance on the first floor. Parmesan barks his head off at the sound of the buzzer. Bucky puts Steve in his shirt pocket and shoos Parmesan into the office before going downstairs to get the food, and Steve just stays curled up in his pocket while Bucky signs the check and hands over a tip. When they're back upstairs, stepping over the baby gate blocking the empty front doorway to keep the dog inside (Ginger jumps the thing easily, but she always comes back for supper), Bucky lets Parmesan out again and lifts Steve out of his pocket in the kitchen. There's a miniature dining set on top of the full-size dining table, and Steve pulls out a chair and sits down at it. Bucky unpacks the takeout bag, then sniffs everything to check for off smells. Steve props his chin on both hands while he waits. Eventually, the food is deemed safe, and Bucky serves a portion of pork fried rice and lo mein onto a full-size plate, then cuts it up to transfer onto Steve's Barbie-plate.

"I think I still have to eat with my hands," Steve says as he takes his plate from Bucky. 

"Sorry," Bucky says, "you probably do have to."

"Don't worry about it," Steve answers, picking up a grain of rice and biting it in half. "It's still good."

Bucky gives him a smile as he sits. He reaches out and taps a finger against Steve's cheek. 

"Cute," he says. "My cute baby."

Steve grins and pops the rest of the rice grain into his mouth. Bucky smiles at him for a moment longer, then looks down and picks up his fork. 

Steve only finishes the rice, but it's still good. They eat in relative quiet, Parmesan occasionally clattering around the kitchen.

"We need to trim his nails," Steve comments.

Bucky hums in agreement.

Bucky takes Steve's plate after they finish. He washes it at the sink and puts the rest of the normal-sized cutlery and dishes in the dishwasher. Steve leans on his miniature dining table and watches him, ignoring the rest of the room. 

"You want a bath, puppy?" Bucky asks as he turns back, wiping his hands on a towel. 

"Not tonight," Steve says.

Bucky stops by the table and holds his hands out. Steve climbs into his palms and Bucky lifts him up slowly, tucking him against his chest. 

"Off to bed, then," he says, "tired puppies need their beauty sleep."

Steve giggles softly. Bucky bends his head and presses a kiss to his hair. 

"You wanna just swish with mouthwash?" Bucky asks as they enter their bedroom. 

"Uh-huh," Steve mumbles in answer. "Splash my face, too."

Bucky carries him to the bathroom and puts him down on the counter. Steve sits down on a jar of cotton balls while Bucky turns on the water so it'll warm up and pours a drop of mouthwash into a Barbie-sized cup. Steve takes it and swishes, gets up so Bucky can take out a cotton ball, and he rinses while Bucky wets the cotton for him. Steve cleans his face, then sits down again while Bucky brushes his teeth and washes his face as well. After, Steve sticks his hands out. Bucky picks him up and holds him against his stomach to head into their bedroom again.

Bucky puts Steve down onto the nightstand. A doll bed has been set up by the alarm clock, with a thick pillow for a mattress and squares of fleece for bedding. Steve pulls off the doll clothes and leaves them by the lamp, then, naked, climbs into his bed. Bucky sits down on their bed and leans on the nightstand to watch him. Steve tucks a tiny pillow under his head and Bucky tucks the fleece blanket around him. 

"I love you, babydoll," Bucky says softly. "Sweet dreams."

Steve smiles at him. "Love you, too, Buck," he answers. 

Bucky turns the lights off and covers the glow of the alarm clock with a cloth. Steve cuddles with his blanket and shuts his eyes. He hears Bucky changing out of his clothes, then getting in bed, then drifts off as Bucky's breathing goes slow and calming.

So, it's not difficult to push aside any discomfort or anxiety about this change. Bucky can easily cover him with a hand and that just as easily blocks out nasty emotions.