Chapter Text
They’re seven years in when everything goes to shit.
: : : :
“Hey, Buck, can I borrow your phone? Mine’s dead and I need to give Nat a shout about dinner on Thursday,” Steve called up the stairs, pausing to listen for a response. He could hear the faint sounds of the shower running in their en suite and smiled – a freshly showered Bucky usually meant a little private fun was heading his way, especially if it happened in the middle of the day.
Bucky, still showering, didn’t answer. Steve moved into the kitchen to see Bucky’s cell laying face down on the table and plucked it up to unlock and dial Nat’s number. He typed in the well-memorized password and watched the screen open directly into Bucky’s text messages. He moved to swipe out of the message and open the phone app when he paused.
His heart dropped.
There, in a conversation between Bucky and someone whose contact wasn’t saved, was a photo of a naked woman, curled up with her hand between her legs, and an associated text reading ‘Thanks for the nooner, baby. ;-) Maybe this will convince you to stay next time.’
Jesus.
He stared at the photo for what seemed like hours. She was pretty, blonde. She had a geometric tattoo down one side of her ribs and bright red lipstick, eyes lined with kohl. Perky little tits with tiny pink nipples. Long, smooth legs and a perfect all-over tan. God, she was fucking gorgeous.
God, she was fucking his husband ?
The text. Baby? Next time? Steve’s breathing came too fast as his mind raced with the possibilities of all that could mean. Was this woman Bucky’s girlfriend? She called him baby – Steve called him baby. What did she mean ‘next time’? How long had this been going on? Did she know about him? Did she think she just hit the fucking jackpot with Bucky, like there was any possibility he didn’t already belong to someone?
Most importantly, what the hell was she giving Bucky that he wasn’t already getting at home?
Steve clicked the phone off, all thoughts of Natasha and dinner and normal life long gone. He set the phone back face down on the table and stared at it, mind blank.
He moved into the living room and sat down hard on the couch, hands on his knees. What now?
Bucky poked his head into the living room, hair wet from the shower and a grin spreading across his face when he caught sight of Steve. He slipped onto the cushion beside Steve and kissed him softly, easily. “Hi, sweetheart. How was lunch with Sam?”
Steve looked him in the eyes, shocked at the normalcy. Didn’t he know everything was ruined? Didn’t he know what he’d done ?
Bucky frowned. He put a hand on Steve’s forehead. “Everything okay? Are you sick?”
“I don’t get sick,” Steve said softly. Bucky rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, Mr. Supersoldier,” he teased. “As if I could forget.”
Steve smiled weakly. “Lunch was good.”
“Where’d you go?”
“Some fish and chips place Sam likes. It was greasy.”
Bucky snorted. “Yeah, deep-fried everything is like that, I’ve heard. Count your blessings you don’t get sick or Sam’s food adventures would be sending you to an early grave.”
“Yeah.”
“Listen,” Bucky said, fingers curling in the hair at Steve’s nape as he leaned in for another kiss. Steve let himself be kissed, still at a loss for how to react in his new world. “I wanna take you out tonight. Maybe we go for sushi, take a walk over the Brooklyn Bridge? I know you love the view at night.”
“Why?”
“Wanna treat you special, sweetheart,” Bucky smiled, climbing into his lap. “I wanna make my best guy feel nice, that such a hardship?”
Steve looked down at his hands and shrugged, heart beating so hard he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. Make him feel special? Being loved by Bucky had always made him feel special, until today. “Maybe you’re right. I’m not feeling so good today.”
Bucky frowned and stroked down Steve’s cheeks to cup his jaw. Kissed him twice, nice and slow. “Maybe it’s all that grease.”
“Maybe.”
“Rain check on dinner then?” Bucky asked him, thumbs stroking over Steve’s cheeks gently. “How about I make you some tea and you can take a nap instead?”
“Yeah,” Steve sighed. “Maybe that would be better.”
When Bucky brings him a cup of chamomile tea and strokes his hair in bed, Steve thinks he must have imagined the text. He must have been going crazy, or maybe it was a wrong number. This Bucky would never step out, this Bucky loved him so much – they were perfect together, it didn’t make any sense.
In his heart, though, he knew. As he drifted off to sleep, he promised himself he’d talk to Bucky about it tomorrow. They could get through this.
: : : :
But they didn’t talk about it. Or rather, Steve never brought it up and Bucky kept on thinking his secret was a secret.
Instead, Steve made it his mission to become the perfect husband. If Bucky was happy at home, he wouldn’t have to cheat, Steve reasoned. If he got what he needed from Steve, that beautiful woman from his phone would be obsolete.
So.
Steve spent his days making Bucky’s favourite dinners, planning spontaneous and incredible date nights, and putting out way more often and athletically than ever before. It was exhausting being ‘on’ all the time, but he was willing to put in the work if it meant not losing his husband.
“Holy mother of god, Steve,” Bucky panted, flopping on his back and wiping sweat from his brow. He grinned roguishly, eyes making a filthy trip up and down Steve’s naked body. “Didn’t know you had it in you, sweetheart.”
“Pretty sure you are what was in me,” Steve grinned, rolling over onto Bucky’s chest and scooting down to suck his husband’s softening cock into his mouth. “Mmm. Can you go again?”
Bucky stared down at him, appalled, thighs twitching from overstimulation. “ Again? We just went three times!”
“I could go again.”
“We’ve established you’re a supersoldier many times before, Stevie,” Bucky laughed, wriggling free of Steve’s eager mouth to cup himself protectively. Steve sucked a hickey into the skin along Bucky’s iliac furrow, laving over it soothingly with his tongue. “I am just a man, I need to recover!”
“After dinner, then,” Steve decided, crawling back up Bucky’s body to kiss him deeply. “We’re having a pot roast with garlic potatoes. And roasted carrots, but who cares about that.”
Bucky moaned. “Gravy?”
“Of course, baby,” Steve smiled. The word felt wrong in his mouth, knowing someone else was also using it to refer to his husband, but nothing was wrong. Everything was fine and Bucky was happy; here, with Steve.
“Oh my god, I love you,” Bucky sighed, following his declaration up with a filthy kiss. “No idea what’s gotten into you lately, but I fucking love it.”
Steve buried his face in Bucky’s neck and took a few steadying breaths. This is what he wanted to hear – he wanted to know that Bucky loved him, was happy to be with him. It felt false, though, to know it was coming on the heels of Steve forcing it.
“I love you, too, you know that?” he asked seriously. “You’re the love of my life, Buck. I just want you to be happy. Whatever it takes.”
Bucky smiled softly and cupped Steve’s cheek with his right hand. If Steve didn’t know what he did, he’d have missed the brief shadow in Bucky’s eyes. “I know that. ‘T’s why I married you.”
“Good,” Steve told him, kissing him again. “Don’t you go forgetting it on me.”
“‘Course not.”
“Okay. Then let’s get our buns in gear – that pot roast ain’t gonna make its own gravy.”
Bucky let loose a long, pained groan and sighed. “I love gravy.”
Steve laughed and smacked Bucky’s ass and he hopped out of bed. “You stay here and rest up – you’ll need your strength for what I’m gonna do to you after dinner.”
“Nah,” Bucky groaned, sitting up reluctantly and wincing from the athletic marathon of sex they’d just finished. “Gotta get on clearing out the gutters before winter hits or we’ll be living in leak city come spring thaw.”
“I took care of that yesterday, baby,” Steve told him. One of Steve’s many strategies to keep Bucky happy and faithful was to keep him free of unpleasant tasks at home.
“Oh,” Bucky said, surprised. “Thanks. You didn’t have to do that – I said I’d take care of it.”
“I know. I just had the time and I know how much you hate doing it.”
“Well. Thanks, sweetheart. I appreciate it.”
Steve beamed down at his husband and pressed another kiss to his lips. “You’re welcome. Now, grab some shuteye while I get dinner sorted. I’m not kidding – tonight’s events include a little purple vibrator that’s going up your ass.”
“You’ll be the fuckin’ death of me, Rogers.”
: : : :
Weeks later, Steve was feeling like things might be heading on a track he could manage. His husband was happily fed, sexually sated (read: exhausted), and free of tasks that made home life a bore. It was going splendidly.
Sure, Steve was constantly running on empty. He was up at the crack of dawn making full hot breakfasts every morning. He spent his days at the tower working on strategy and battle policy with the new SHIELD’s operations department. He was home immediately after work every day to get elaborate dinners on the table by the time Bucky rolled in. Every evening was filled with wild, marathon sex that made him feel dirty for having. But it was great – everything was going great.
Until.
“ Sweetheart, I’m not gonna make it home for dinner tonight, ” Bucky’s voice came over the phone. “ I got tied up with some weapons stuff at work with the R&D team. Probably won’t be home until after 11 or so. ”
Steve glanced at the oven, which held the brisket he’d been slowly roasting for three hours already. “Oh – it can’t wait?”
“ No, sweetheart, I’m sorry. It was super last minute or I would have given you a heads up. I wouldn’t be surprised if Tony’s got us here half the night. ”
“That’s okay, I know how he gets sometimes. Text me when you’re on your way home? I picked up some of those mag-cuffs from Bruce the other day and I’m dying to try them out…”
“ Oh, absolutely, ” Bucky’s filthy grin could be heard through the phone. “ Just try and stop me, big guy. ”
“Okay, baby, talk to you later. Have fun at work. Love you.”
“ You, too. ”
And that was that – dinner was cancelled, but Steve was just a little relieved to have a free night to relax. It had been a busy couple of months since he’d first found those texts on Bucky’s phone and needed to step up his game. Having a night to himself wasn’t a huge hardship.
Two episodes of some inane police procedural later, Steve felt a little differently. Spending so much time with Bucky recently had made him feel a little dependent on the company and he missed his husband something fierce – it was only half worry about what Bucky could get up to out late without Steve. Mostly, he just wanted to curl up on the couch with his favourite person and watch a movie. Couches are too big to lounge on alone, too empty.
He knew Bucky wouldn’t be home until late, which made the caretaker recently born inside him worry. Maybe Bucky had missed dinner? Most days recently, he was home at a decent hour and happy to scarf down seconds and thirds of whatever Steve had made for dinner. Who was feeding him tonight?
On a whim, he grabbed his phone to text Tony.
Hey Tony – what are you guys doing for dinner? I have a whole brisket here I could bring over if you guys haven’t planned anything yet.
He waited a few minutes to hear Tony's plans for feeding his horde of starving R&D employees, passing the time by thinking up the best way to transport food for ten or more people.
His phone pinged with a response from Tony:
I assure you, Cap, neither Pepper nor I have any need for your old man boiled vegetables – we’re enjoying quite the evening at Balthazar tonight.
Oh. Oh.
Of course – there was no last minute emergency in R&D. There was only an excuse to get out of coming home so Bucky could go fuck his hot blonde mistress. Of course .
“Shit,” Steve whispered to himself, staring down at his phone helplessly. “Shit, shit shit .”
So the dinners, the sex, and the easy home life weren’t cutting it, then. There had to be a different explanation for why Bucky would run around on him, Steve thought. If everything was going perfectly at home, what the fuck could be the problem?
Even as he asked himself the question, he knew the answer. If what I do isn’t the problem , he thought, then it’s who I am . Not enough. Not good enough.
It made sense, in Steve’s distraught mind. It made sense that he wasn’t enough for Bucky. Bucky was amazing – he was beautiful, funny, brilliant, sweet. Bucky had spent his whole life looking out for Steve, making sure his six was covered, nursing him back to health every damn winter for years, finishing fights Steve could damn well start but never end. It made sense that Bucky needed more.
It made sense.
That was the answer he’d talked himself into by the time Bucky came home. 11:53pm. Late. Too late. Maybe late enough that he’d gotten what he needed and wouldn’t need to go back for a while. Maybe.
“You awake, sweetheart?” Bucky whispered into the darkness of their bedroom. Steve contemplated feigning sleep, but knew Bucky could always tell.
“Yeah.”
“Sorry I’m so late. You know how Tony gets.”
Steve could hear the clinking of Bucky’s belt as he stripped down and tossed his clothes in the hamper. Steve made a mental note to wash them immediately tomorrow morning – he didn’t want that woman’s scent on his husband’s clothes.
“I do,” Steve murmured in agreement. “It’s okay.”
“I’m gonna grab a shower before we bust out those mag-cuffs – long day.”
Steve froze. The showers. The fucking showers – god, how could he have been so goddamn stupid? All those days Bucky came home and showered in the middle of the day. All those showers he had before absolutely ravishing Steve. Jesus. Steve could hear it now like some sort of mocking echo inside his head – oh, let me wash someone else’s pussy off my dick before you suck it, Steve, it’s only polite .
He felt sick to his stomach knowing Bucky had put his mouth on someone else before turning around and putting it on Steve. He felt wretched and dirty.
“Actually, I changed my mind,” Steve breathed shakily around tears. “I’m a little tired. Maybe tomorrow.”
“Sure thing,” Bucky agreed, slipping into their en suite bathroom. “Go to sleep, sweetheart, I’ll be there in a minute.”
Steve didn’t fall asleep until the sun was nearly risen, his heart heavy in his chest.
: : : :
In the morning, Steve woke exhausted, feeling like his world had fallen out from under his feet for the second time in two months.
He rolled onto his back and stared at the blank white ceiling, wondering how on earth he wound up here. He’d lived through the Depression, through sickness after sickness, through war, through dying , through the world damn near ending time and again, and at the end of it all – he was here. Cold, unworthy, and alone in the bed he shared with a man who wanted someone else.
He heaved a sigh and hauled himself out of bed to face the day, not even noticing the clock reading 9:03am instead of his usual 6:15am. As he made his way down the stairs, the smell of bacon, pancakes, and coffee greeted him. Was Bucky cooking breakfast?
As Steve turned the corner into the kitchen, he saw his husband at the stove, hissing and shaking his right hand while trying to flip a pancake with the other.
“Fuck, fuck fuck,” Bucky whined. “Fucking hell, that’s hot.”
“Normally you don’t touch the metal pan with your hand, Buck.”
Bucky whirled around in surprise at Steve’s voice, flinging pancake batter off the spatula in his and. “No! You’re supposed to be asleep!”
“I woke up?”
“Damn,” Bucky sighed dejectedly, setting down his spatula. “I was trying to make breakfast in bed.”
Steve’s bruised heart fluttered a little at the thought. “For me?”
“Obviously, punk,” Bucky grinned, coming around the island to kiss Steve soundly on the lips. “You’ve been so good to me lately. Thought I’d return the favour when you slept in past the crack of fucking dawn.”
Steve flushed, glancing away from Bucky’s shining blue eyes. “Oh. Thanks. Sorry I woke up.”
“That’s okay, sweetheart, now you can have coffee while I finish the pancakes.”
Bucky handed him a mug of piping hot coffee and steered him towards one of the high chairs at the island to enjoy it while he cooked. Steve watched as Bucky fluttered around the kitchen like a trapped bird, periodically pausing to stare at the pancakes as they cooked like he knew what to look for. It was endearing, to say the least.
“I might’a burned some,” Bucky admitted sheepishly as he set a stack of slightly too dark pancakes and a pound of bacon down in front of Steve. “But I followed the recipe, so they should be good, I think.”
“You used a recipe?”
“Hey, no boxed pancakes for my husband, thank you very much,” Bucky grinned, ruffling Steve’s hair. “Besides, you’re like some sort of gourmet chef now, apparently. Gotta pull my weight before I get too fat!”
Steve smirked despite his aching heart.
The pancakes were…just the right side of edible, but the thought is what made Steve’s emotions bubble back up from the cold depths he’d shoved them into. “This is great, Buck, thanks.”
“’Course,” Bucky told him, waving off the thanks. “I love you. And the way to a man’s heart is through his belly.”
“I do not have a belly.”
“No, you do not,” Bucky grinned roguishly, leaning in to run a hand down Steve’s abdomen appreciatively. “Not even a little. You can’t deny it would be cute, though.”
Steve scowled and started in on his bacon. “You just want more ass to grab.”
“Caught me.”
When breakfast was done and Bucky had finished the mountain of dishes that pancakes had somehow created, shooing Steve from the kitchen when he tried to help, they collapsed onto the couch with bellies near bursting.
“I love bacon,” Bucky said dreamily, stroking Steve’s hair as Steve sprawled over top of him. “So salty, so crunchy.”
“You’re salty and crunchy.”
Bucky snorted and flicked Steve on the head. They kissed for a few minutes until Steve pulled away, ready to discuss his newest plan of attack for keeping his husband happy.
“Can I talk to you about something?” he asked Bucky seriously. “It’s not bad, I just had an idea I thought we could try.”
“Sure.”
“I’ve been thinking. About before the war and everything. We used to double date and stuff a lot.”
“I remember,” Bucky smiled. “Back before we pulled our heads out of our asses.”
“Yeah,” Steve agreed softly. His chest felt too tight. He couldn’t get air. “I just remember how much you liked going with women. I thought…if maybe things are a little boring for you, I thought. Maybe you wanna – maybe see about finding a woman to join us sometimes. You know, at night. If you want.”
Bucky’s face was blank as he lay beneath Steve, unmoving. There was a long moment where neither of them said anything or moved at all. The only sound was the roar of blood Steve could hear in his own head as he waited.
Bucky grasped him by the shoulders and pushed gently, sitting both of them up and away from each other.
“No,” he said firmly, voice even. “I don’t want that.”
Steve’s whole body felt cold and numb. He couldn’t feel his own face as he tried to form a response. “It might make it better for you, Buck. And – maybe for both of us. If we were both there. So we could be together, with her, and it would be more fun for you.”
“Steve,” Bucky whispered, voice heavy with emotion. “I don’t want that. I don’t want some woman in our bed. What’s going on?”
“ Nothing , I just think – ”
“Don’t do that,” Bucky stopped him. “Don’t say it’s nothing. Steve, I love you. You are all I could ever need.”
“I’m not,” Steve said weakly, the tears along his lashes betraying him and finally spilling down his cheeks. “If I was, you would stay and you wouldn’t have some – someone else. But it’s okay; I think I can make it work if you want more, Bucky. I can be okay with that, I just want to be there so I’m not – so it’s not like you’re leaving.”
“No,” Bucky whispered, eyes red with tears. “No.”
“Please,” Steve begged, grabbing at his husband’s hands. “Please, I can do it. I’m – sorry, I’m sorry. This isn’t how I wanted to talk about this. But I can get over it, Buck, I can. We can have someone else sometimes, it’s okay.”
“No,” Bucky repeated, hands shaking. “ You’re sorry? No, I don’t – no. We’re not doing that, Steve, absolutely not.”
“Please, Bucky, please – I want to make it better, I can make things better, I promise,” Steve pleaded, tears still trailing down his cheeks. Bucky’s grip on his hands was crushing, almost painful. “I know I can’t be there for you like that, I’m not a woman, I can’t – I’m not pretty . It’s okay though, because you can have her, but I wanna be part of it if that’s what you need. I love you. We can be together, you and me, and she can be there sometimes too, for you. I don’t – I don’t think I want to touch her, or – or do anything, but I could just be there and then we can be together. You and me, right? And then that would be better for you? ”
“Jesus. Jesus . No, Steve – god, no. I love you. I love you ,” Bucky implored, reaching out to wipe the wet trail of tears from Steve’s cheeks. “You gotta listen to me, sweetheart. My god, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I can’t believe I ever made you feel like this. You are enough for me, Steve, you are more than I could ever deserve. You have to believe that.”
“I – I can try to do better, Buck. She’s so pretty – I’m sorry. I’m so tired. I can’t even – maybe I should go for a bit. Maybe she could come here and you could – but not in our room, maybe in the guest room.”
“Jesus,” Bucky prayed, covering his face with both hands and drawing a shaky breath. “No, Steve. I’m not ever seeing her again. Neither one of us is. I don’t want you to go anywhere and I don’t want anyone else. I’m so sorry, sweetheart; I love you.”
“You don’t have to stop - not just because I found out. I told you it’s okay now.”
“No,” Bucky said firmly. “It’s not okay and I didn’t stop because you found out. I stopped last night. I didn’t have a meeting, Steve, I’m sorry. I went over there to tell her I didn’t want to see her again because I love you. I hadn’t seen her in weeks – I don’t want her; it was stupid. It was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done and I regretted every single second of it.”
“But why stop now? I’ve been trying to be everything you need, but it’s not working,” Steve weeps, taking big gulps of air. “It wasn’t enough. She’s gotta be giving you something I don’t, so why stay with me?”
“Sweetheart, you are so much better than anyone else could hope to be for me,” Bucky told him softly, pulling Steve in by the nape to cradle his head against Bucky’s shoulder. He held Steve for several long minutes, rocking them both in a vain attempt at comfort. Neither one of them was anywhere close to comfort right now. “How – how long have you been feeling like this?”
How long have you known.
“Since before Nat came for dinner,” Steve answered, fingers clutching great fistfuls of Bucky’s sweater like he might fly away. “I tried to use your phone to call her. I didn’t mean to snoop, it was just there when I opened the lock screen. I’m sorry, Buck, I didn’t mean to find it.”
“Fuck, don’t apologize for that - hold on. Steve, that was before Halloween. It’s January.”
“Yeah.”
“God, Steve, I’m so sorry,” Bucky whispered into Steve’s hair, dampening it with his own tears. “I’m so sorry I made you feel like this, so sorry you’ve felt it for so long. I can’t believe I ever did this to you. You’re the love of my life, Steve, you gotta believe me.”
“Why would you need her if you love me?”
The question broke both of their already shattered hearts and Bucky let out a sob into Steve’s hair.
“I didn’t need her, sweetheart. I needed to feel – I don’t know, in control or needed or... I should have come to you for that. I’m so sorry.” Bucky rubbed calming circles on Steve’s back, both of them clinging to each other like letting go would mean letting go forever. “Why I did it doesn’t matter as much as how I hurt you, Steve. I can never forgive myself for this and I don’t want you to, either. You are the thing that means the most to me all of existence and I made you feel like garbage. I am so unbelievably sorry, sweetheart.”
“You love me? You want to be with me?”
“More than anything.”
Steve moved in closer to Bucky and leaned into his outstretched arm, seeking comfort. They huddled together like lost ducklings for nearly half an hour before either of them spoke again. Bucky pet Steve’s hair constantly, running his fingers through the fluffy blonde mess. Steve took long, steadying breaths.
“It’s not okay. What you did.” Steve pulled back to look at Bucky, wiping his own tears and wrapping his arms around his ribs. “If you love me, you can’t do that. Ever.”
“I know, Steve, I promise you I know that,” Bucky affirmed, resting his flesh hand on Steve’s knees. “This is the worst thing I’ve ever done. I know that.”
“I want to be with you,” Steve told him, knuckles white as they dug into his own flesh. “Because I love you. But I don’t want to feel like I have to be perfect for you to love me. Or like I’m not enough for you.”
“Of course, Steve,” Bucky promised. “Of course – you will never have to feel like that again, I swear.”
“You can’t see someone else behind my back. If you want to, you have to tell me so we can figure it out.”
“There is no possible future where I want someone else ever again, Steve. I want to be with you forever, like we always promised,” Bucky whispered, reaching out to trail his fingers down Steve’s tear-reddened cheek. “If you’ll have me, of course.”
“I’m tired,” Steve said abruptly. Bucky nodded, like agreeing with Steve immediately was the only way to prove he cared. “I didn’t sleep.”
“I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry. Do you want to sleep now?”
“Yes. Maybe we can take a nap? And then go for dinner. And we can talk more tomorrow?”
Bucky nodded again, ecstatic at the confirmation that he would in fact be seeing Steve tomorrow. “We can do that. Do you want to nap together? Or I can stay down here. Whatever you want.”
“No, let’s go together. I’d rather be with you right now.”
They lay down to sleep, both of them still wearing jeans and socks, unable to stomach the thought of changing together – the intimacy of undressing seemed too far outside the tense atmosphere of their little nap. Steve was asleep within moments of his head hitting the pillow.
: : : :
Their nap had given both of them some much needed time to regroup and calm runaway trains of thought, thoughts that served no purpose but to escalate their panic in the moment. Steve slept for hours, well into the afternoon, with Bucky laying flat on his back beside him, wide-awake but silent and unmoving. They may have both needed a break, but only Steve’s was restful.
The nap gave way to a tense dinner and an even more tense evening, Steve insisting they spend the time together but regularly taking short moments to step away, always seconds too late to keep Bucky from seeing the glint of tears in his eyes. It broke his fucking heart – tore him up inside to see the effect of his carelessness with Steve’s trust. Steve was in pain, deep and aching inside, and he’d caused it on purpose .
On purpose because, no, he hadn’t slept with someone else to cause Steve pain, but he’d known without a doubt that it would blow up his marriage. He hadn’t been under the thoughtless impression that Steve would be fine with this , of course not. They’d lived seven monogamous years of marriage together, of course Bucky knew what would hurt Steve and what wouldn’t. Steve getting hurt was always a certainty in the trajectory of Bucky’s dive into infidelity and he’d taken the goddamn leap anyways.
They hadn’t spoken further that evening, a massive relief to Bucky. He wasn’t sure how to repair the damage he’d done beyond apologizing as sincerely as he could. That wasn’t enough, he knew that, and Steve deserved so much more proof than an apology.
So when Steve had drifted to sleep that night after pleading with Bucky to come to bed too, Bucky had found himself back downstairs on the couch with a Starkpad in hand and hours into a YouTube spiral in search of answers. As it had turned out, he was not alone in his search for redemption; the Internet held some difficult truths for him.
One particular video focused heavily on rebuilding a relationship after cheating and Bucky watched it on repeat, eyes wide and tired, curled up on the couch and crying pathetically as the internet therapist broke down exactly what he’d done to Steve.
If you’re watching this video, you’re here because you’ve been unfaithful to your partner and want help in repairing the damage you’ve caused to your relationship – that’s good. This is a very important first step and shows that you still value your relationship and are willing to take steps to save it. We’ll talk today about how you can help manage the effects of infidelity and rebuild a healthy relationship with your partner.
You haven’t just impacted your relationship and how your partner looks at you – you’ve directly impacted how your partner looks at his or herself. You’ve made them question how worthy they are of love, how attractive they are, how valuable they are to you and others. Reminding them of their value with your daily actions will be key to rebuilding the trust your partner has for you, as well as their own sense of worth and lovability.
Acknowledging your faults, whether that means discussing them rationally or listening to your partner vent their pain and frustration directly at you, is important. You may need to bear the weight of a lot of anger. As long as these faults are yours, your partner won’t believe these faults are their own. If you try to brush your faults under the rug, you are showing your partner you don’t value their pain or distress.
By attempting to validate your infidelity – or deny it when your partner knows it’s true – you’re ensuring your partner won’t be able to feel secure in your relationship. You may need to be the bad guy. Owning up to your infidelity is the most effective way to help your partner recover and to help you chip away at the wall you have built between you and them.
This is not a sprint – this is a marathon. You won’t regain your partner’s trust and they won’t regain their sense of self-worth if you try to turn your relationship around overnight. You need to put in the time. Losing your patience when your partner doesn’t feel validated immediately only gives them more reason not to trust your actions.
Working to rebuild your relationship does not end with atonement – you also need to identify why you were unfaithful to your partner. This could be for any number of reasons: maybe you were drinking or using drugs; maybe it was impulsive; maybe there was something missing from your relationship like affection, attention, or validation. Something led you to the decision you made. Identifying that ‘something’ will allow you to change it and help you avoid making the same decision in the future.
And lastly, but perhaps most importantly, you need to ask yourself why you’re here watching this video. You’re here because your partner found out about your affair, whether you told them or they discovered it on their own, and you’re trying to learn how to repair the damage to your partnership and show your remorse appropriately. Before you embark on your quest to repair your relationship, ask yourself this: are you sorry you hurt your partner, or just sorry you were caught? Sincerity is, in this situation, the first step in the journey you’re about to take.
Bucky clicked the replay button and started the video yet again, not noticing the pale orange light filtering in through the living room curtains. He’d been at this for hours, searching for answers, desperate for ways to make Steve stay – to make Steve realize he was the most important thing in Bucky’s life.
“Buck?” Steve’s voice came soft, timid, from the doorway by the stairs. Bucky looked up and saw his husband standing there in long pajamas and a sweatshirt, face half nervous and half embarrassed.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Bucky whispered, surprised to notice the morning light filtering in. “You sleep okay? I’ve been down here all night, I guess.”
“I wasn’t sure – if maybe you weren’t here,” Steve confessed, looking down at his hands as his face pinked. “It’s stupid, never mind.”
“C’mere,” Bucky held open his arms and motioned for Steve to come lay across his chest, heart leaping when his husband settled into his arms seeking comfort. Bucky held him tight, like Steve might fly away if he let go even for a second. “It’s okay to be worried I might do it again, Steve. I hurt you a lot. I don’t expect you to trust me right now.”
“But I love you,” Steve argued half-heartedly, face buried in Bucky’s chest. Bucky stroked both hands down Steve’s sides and sighed.
“And I’m so, so grateful that you do, sweetheart. You’ve loved me through a lot of shit, since we were kids. This is the first time I’ve broken your heart, though.” He pressed a kiss to the side of Steve’ head, taking as much comfort in the touch as he was giving. “I wanna fix this, Steve. I can’t go another hundred years without you – I want to prove that I love you, if you’ll have me.”
“I want to be with you,” Steve told him again, repeating his declaration from the night before. “I just don’t know if I can take the secrets again, Buck. I’d understand, if you want someone else. I’m just gonna have a hard time being okay with expanding the scope of our marriage. I don’t want someone else, so I don’t get it. But if that’s what it takes to keep you, I can try to get over it.”
Bucky squeezed his eyes closed, shoving down the rise of anguish in his chest. “That’s not what I mean when I say I want to be with you, Steve. I don’t mean I want you and others, okay? Just you. You’re it for me.”
“Wasn’t yesterday.”
“I know. I know. But Steve, you gotta believe me when I say that what I did? Had nothing to do with how much I love you, okay? That was about how much I love me. It was the worst thing I’ve ever done, but it wasn’t because of you, sweetheart, I promise. I promise .”
“Then what was it about?” Steve demanded weakly, lifting his head to stare up into Bucky’s eyes. The terrified look on Steve’s face was the worst thing – the worst thing – because Bucky hadn’t seen it there in the face of certain death, or Hydra, or the open door of an airplane with no chutes. But Bucky could put it there with one filthy act of betrayal. “If it’s not because of me, why? Why her? How did this even happen?”
Bucky sat quietly, staring at the ceiling as he tried to piece together an answer that would help Steve understand. Help him realize that Bucky’s decisions weren’t because Steve was unworthy or not enough.
“It was…she needed me, I guess. I met her –” he paused and looked into Steve’s eyes, searching for the truth. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I met her on an op. Drug bust; that cocaine smuggling ring inside the children’s toy store chain from back in the summer. Her boyfriend was the shipping and receiving guy who basically managed the whole operation. He got her a job doing the scheduling for all the drivers, made her organize shipments to get product where it needed to be-- specifically the coke. She’s the one that came to SHIELD and asked for help bringing the whole operation down. She was our inside woman – only it went bad. Real bad,” Bucky relayed the story like a mission report – like it happened to someone else, not to him, not like it was the story of how he ruined his life and betrayed the most important person in his life. Steve remained quiet, watching him intently. “The boyfriend found out, beat her up something awful.”
Steve, despite the ache in his chest, let out a soft sound of sympathy. Bucky paused for a breath before continuing, “She called me; I was running point so she had my number. When I went to pick her up – she just…it wasn’t like she just jumped me, Steve. I bandaged her up, got her sorted. She was crying the whole time, clinging to me like I was her fucking savior. Kept telling me I was her guardian angel, saying how I was the only person she could count on in her life. When she kissed me, I was so shocked I didn’t even think about it – I was so hopped up on adrenaline. I – I fucked her in the safe house. Didn’t even take off my fucking pants. It was – it felt great, for all of ten minutes. Then it felt like the worst thing I’d ever done. I left her at the safe house and called Barton to take over. Came back here and – and –”
He took a deep breath, shaky in his chest. “And you were here, all sweet and worried about me being called out late, missing dinner. You saved me some and heated it up for me while I showered. God, I thought I’d never be clean of what I did. Could barely look you in the eye all night. Steve, it was the worst day of my life.”
“Then why ?”
“Because – I don’t know, she needed me. It felt nice, to help someone and have them need me. I’ve always been the one who needed fixing, after the war and after Hydra. And she just kept saying how she wanted to feel something good, something nice. It was like...I could make something good for once instead of making it worse, you know? But it felt so awful, to think about what I’d done and how it would hurt you. By the time I woke up the next day, I’d convinced myself you could never love me after that anyways and what was the harm in doing it again, just one more time? It wasn’t like I could come back from doing it. It was just – the worst decision of my life, Steve. The worst decision. God, I’m so sorry.”
“She called you baby,” Steve said softly, eyes wet. Bucky grimaced. “You were seeing her, Buck.”
“No,” Bucky shook his head firmly. “No, I wasn’t. It was – maybe five times. She’d call me and I’d go, because there was no way I could save this. But every time it was over, I’d think about you and about how much you loved me. About everything you’d torn down to keep me safe. How could I do that to you? Every time, I told myself it was the last one because you didn’t deserve that. But after a while, I’d convince myself it was me that didn’t deserve you. And the whole fucking cycle repeated itself.”
“I thought –” Steve paused and looked down, embarrassed. He sighed and laid his head back down on Bucky’s chest. “I thought we were happy, I guess. I didn’t know…maybe I shoulda made you feel like I need you.”
“Sweetheart,” Bucky pulled Steve’s face up with a knuckle under his chin. “You make me so goddamn happy. This? That’s my fault. You didn’t do a damn thing wrong.”
“What are we gonna do, Buck?” Steve asked forlornly. “How are we gonna be happy together? I don’t know what to do.”
“Well…I guess we need to figure out what we want, don’t you think? We need to decide if we’re going to try and get past it, or if maybe we want to talk to some lawyers.”
“Lawyers?” Steve repeated sharply, sitting up. Bucky frowned, looking away.
“For if you decide you maybe don’t wanna get past it. If maybe you wanna – think about divorce instead.”
“ No .”
“I’d understand, Steve. I won’t fight you on it – you can have the house, the job, the friends. I’m the one that blew this up.”
“ No , Bucky. We’re not getting divorced. I took a vow, same as you – we’re in it to the end of the line.”
Bucky let out a burst of air, relief flooding his chest. “Okay. Okay, sweetheart. I’m on board, a hundred percent.”
“Good,” Steve said firmly, settling back against Bucky’s chest. “Then we need a plan. So we can be together. It’s – hard. To look at you and not think about it.”
And god, didn’t that just twist a knife in Bucky’s heart.
“We should go to therapy. I know we’ve both gone before, but neither one of us wants our heads shrunk. I think a relationship coach or couples counselor instead. Not a psychiatrist,” Bucky offered gently. Steve looked apprehensive, both of them having had poor experiences with shrinks before. “It won’t be like work, right? Because this person won’t be able to take our job away if we’re having trouble.”
“Okay,” Steve agreed. “We can try. I’ll try anything.”
“Maybe we can do date nights too? I wanna take you out. Treat you right.”
“That sounds nice,” Steve confessed softly. His face flushed as he looked sideways, avoiding eye contact. “I think – maybe we shouldn’t have sex for a while. If that’s okay.”
Bucky bit his lip, heart squeezing. Touching Steve, making him feel good, was important to Bucky – but not more important than Steve’s comfort or happiness. “If that’s what you want, I’m all for it.”
“I just think I don’t want to for a while. The last couple of months have been, um, bad. I – don’t like how it felt.”
That thought slammed into Bucky like a truck, knocking the wind from his lungs. Of course – of course it had been bad for Steve. For Bucky, the endless stream of enthusiastic, athletic sex had been a revelation – a new chapter in his favourite way to show love, sexy and intimate. For Steve, those same moments had been born out of desperation, anxiety, and insecurity. The thought of how he’d enjoyed it so much made Bucky feel sick to his stomach.
“We – we can try again when you’re ready, okay, sweetheart? Or we won’t, it’s okay if that doesn’t come back for you. I love you , Steve, not our sex life.”
“Thank you,” Steve breathed, relieved. “I love you, Buck, I do – I just don’t feel good about having sex because we’re supposed to. My head is all wonky.”
“We’ll have sex when you’re good and ready, and not a moment sooner, alright?”
“Alright.”
: : : :
They let things settle in the week following the confrontation of Bucky’s affair. They didn’t talk about it and didn’t talk much to each other. Quick ‘morning’s and ‘good day at work?’s were the extent of their conversation, mostly prompted by Bucky attempting to engage with Steve like the video’s said. To show he cared about Steve’s day, his well-being – his life. But Steve offered mostly one-word answers and shrugs, not that Bucky blamed him at all.
Steve spent all week pulling long hours at the tower, coming home only for reheated dinners and to sleep fitfully in the guest bedroom. He spent the first night at Nat and Sam’s, claiming it was a closer commute for an early meeting on Monday, though it felt like the first day of a separation to Bucky.
Bucky, who spent each night trying and failing to fill the desperate role Steve had played for months -- devoted and unflinchingly attentive husband. He made dinners - Steve’s favourites - and maintained the high standard of spotlessness that Steve had curated in their home, which felt a little like duty and a lot like penance.
It was so fucking quiet in a house they’d filled with chatter, laughter, and love but Bucky couldn’t bear to break it. He found himself turning to books instead of television, heating food in the oven instead of the microwave, wearing heavy socks instead of his soled slippers. For all the pointed silence Steve offered, it felt like a betrayal to break it on Bucky’s part. Hard conversations could wait until Steve was ready to speak at all.
Finally, it was Friday night and they were staring down the barrel of an uninterrupted forty-eight hours together without the buffer of spending all day at work and all evening preparing for the next day.
Bucky was tentatively optimistic, having researched a few well-regarded couples counselors and an individual counselor for himself. He wasn’t under any illusions that the only thing he needed to work on was his marriage; if he was emotionally healthy, he’d never have considered the possibility of looking outside of Steve for any sort of emotional or sexual comfort. He needed his head shrunk, whether he liked it or not.
Steve, however, was doing his level best to avoid being in the same room with him. Not in any way that would be obvious; instead, just keeping himself busy to keep Bucky from getting his attention.
“Steve,” Bucky pleaded as his husband fled the kitchen when Bucky walked in, leaving the sink draining with half their breakfast dishes still set to be washed. “Come on, sweetheart, we gotta talk a little more. We gotta make plans on how to fix this.”
“I have to get started on shoveling the walkway, Buck, you know it ices up if we leave it sitting there snowy. Especially considering we might get rain tomorrow.”
“I’ll deal with the walkway, Steve,” Bucky sighed, stepping in front of the kitchen doorway to block Steve’s escape. “What’s wrong? How come you don’t want to look at shrinks with me?”
“I do, I’m just busy,” Steve insisted, trying to dart around Bucky’s arm as he blocked the doorway. “There’s a lot to do around the house.”
“There’s not,” Bucky argued. “I know that because you’ve been on top of every possible thing that needs doing around here for months. So what’s the deal, sweetheart? Let’s work on it together.”
“There’s no ‘deal’, Bucky, come on.”
“Steve.”
Steve fixed him with a glare to beat all other glares and crossed his arms defensively. “I don’t need a shrink to tell me I ain’t good enough for you, Barnes.”
That threw him through a serious loop, considering Bucky had been searching for counselors who specifically dealt well with issues of self-worth and how to value a partner. He knew he wasn’t valuing Steve enough in their marriage and that was something he needed to work on. “Not good enough for me?”
“Yeah. I know what we talked about. How you think it’s not my fault. But the reality is that if you were happy with me, you wouldn’t be slipping it to somebody else. If that’s because I don’t put out enough, or I don’t have tits, or I don’t take care for you enough – or, I don’t know, fuck, if I’m just a boring lay, I don’t care. I’m tired. And I’m not gonna force you to love me.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“I…” Bucky trailed off, blood racing through his veins and pounding in his ears. “Yeah, I did. You think a therapist is gonna force me to love you?”
“That’s the whole point, isn’t it? Go to some stuffy office once a week until you agree not to stick it to anyone else?”
“Jesus,” Bucky breathed. Steve’s chest was puffed up, his eyes flashing with rage. “Jesus. I – am going to Sam’s. Before one of us says something we shouldn’t. Something we can’t take back.”
“Oh, to ‘Sam’s’, huh?? Guess it wasn’t as over as you thought.”
Bucky didn’t validate that comment with a response, choosing instead to slam the door behind him as he fled. But the minute he stepped out the door and onto the snowy path Steve had been so concerned with clearing, all the anger deflated inside him like a popped balloon.
He thought about the video he’d watched the other night.
With a great sigh, he grabbed a shovel and began working methodically along the front steps and the stone path that lead to the garage, shoveling great heaps of snow out of his path like he could fix everything if the walkway was just right, done just perfectly. It took no more than ten minutes, particularly because there had been barely two inches of snow overnight, though Steve was right – it would ice like hell if they left it to be rained on.
When he was finished, he stomped off his boots on the mat in front of the door and then stepped inside.
Steve was sitting on the couch, obviously still fuming but also choking back tears.
Bucky sat down in the armchair across from him and wiped a hand down his face, taking a few tears of his own with it.
“Steve.”
“What.”
You may need to be the bad guy here.
“You yell at me as much as you like, okay?”
“Okay.”
: : : :
You ruined everything. We were happy. We were happy , Bucky.
You made me feel disgusting. You made me feel hideous and boring and impotent.
She called you ‘baby’. I can’t even look at you.
I whored myself out to you, my own fucking husband, to feel like I was worth something to you.
Every time you touch me, I think about you fucking her.
What? Did you miss pussy? Are we gonna do this again in a couple years?
I love you. I love you. Why don’t you love me?
Every time you set your phone facedown on the table, I wonder what she’s sent you. What you’ve sent her.
You know what it’s like to see pictures of your husband’s slut on his phone?
I know you came home to wash her pussy off your cock before you slipped it to me.
You ever make me suck her pussy off your dick? You ever make me taste her?
I hated it. I hated fucking you after I knew. And it wasn’t even enough to make you stop.
What’s wrong with me? What’s this goddamn science experiment of a body good for if I can’t even keep you?
I should have known. I should have known.
How can we come back from this, huh? You’ve ruined this. It’s ruined.
How could you fuck her and then look me in the eye? How can I ever trust you again?
Every time you’re late home from work, I’ll wonder where you’ve been.
God, Bucky. God. We got married . I – I’m a goddamn idiot. How could you love me? Look at you. I’m a fucking wreck.