Summary: After years of struggling to overcome his seemingly endless list of addictions, Steve Rogers has been clean & sober for one year. In an effort to remain clean, to prove to himself that he can overcome his demons, he takes on the responsibility of becoming a sponsor. It’s wrong for a sponsor to feel a personal attachment to the ones they are sponsoring, but apparently Steve didn’t get that memo.
Bucky Barnes’ downfall was cocaine, he couldn’t keep his nose clean if his life depended on it. After overdosing for the third time, a judge ordered him to ‘get clean, or go to jail.’ Narcotics Anonymous wasn’t really Bucky’s thing, that was until he saw the blonde haired, blue eyed God that was going to be his sponsor.
Will Steve be able to separate his feelings from the addiction? Can Bucky overcome his primal urges and keep things professional?
Word Count: 1,120
Warnings for series: Illicit & casual drug use, explicit language, alcohol abuse, explicit sexual language, male receiving anal sex, male receiving oral sex, explicit sexual content, heavy angst, possibly more to come
Author’s Note: This is going to be strictly a Stucky fic. There will be no reader involved. I wouldn’t be writing this without the unwavering support of @captain-rogers-beard & @climbthatmooselikeatree I love you.
My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.
Bucky couldn’t concentrate, not with the way his stomach was rolling, the way his heart was pounding inside his fucking head like a jackhammer. His entire body was covered in sweat, no matter how many cold showers he had taken, his hair greasy no matter how much shampoo he used. He ached, every-fucking-where, like the Navy Seals had ganged up on him and kicked his ass.
God, he hated going through withdrawal, hated everything about it. But, what he hated the most, was the nightmares. They were violent, bloody, and downright scary. He’d had them every night since he was honorably discharged from the army. Medal of Honor recipient to drug addict in less than a month. How had he fallen so far in so little time?
He was sitting in the corner of the shower, the water as hot as it would go, rocking back and forth, praying that his stomach would stop growling. It had been two days since he’d been able to hold anything down, two days since he’d had a drop of water without bending over the toilet and emptying his stomach. Fuck, he wanted some cocaine, pills, oxy, percocet, something!
After climbing out of the shower, Bucky dragged himself into the next room, grabbing his phone from the nightstand. He found Steve’s number quickly, connecting the call with a swipe of his shaking finger.
“He- hello?” Steve mumbled, sleep thick on his voice, a hand dragging over his face.
Bucky was grinding his teeth. “Steve, I… I need you.” Shit, he hated how pathetic he sounded, especially when Steve looked like a goddamn model for Aber-whatever-it’s-called. Asshole probably had a girlfriend or something. He half expected to hear some girl’s voice questioning Steve about the phone call and it made a knot of jealousy in the pit of his stomach added to the nausea in his stomach.
“Bucky? Is everything alright?” He was already out of bed, pulling on his jeans and socks.
Shit, the shivers had started. “No. I… I don’t know. I’m so fuckin’ cold, man.”
“Give me your address and I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Steve ordered. With a firm mental shake, he pulled on a pair of dirty socks and the first shirt he touched. Leather jacket in hand and shoes on his feet, Steve grabbed the keys to his motorcycle and the emergency backpack he kept by the door.
Ten minutes later, Steve found Bucky on the floor, shivering, naked, phone still in his grip. “Shit, Buck,” Steve breathed, dropping to his knees next to his charge. A batch of butterflies exploded in his stomach, taking him completely by surprise.
Steve wrapped an arm around Bucky’s waist and hoisted him off the floor. The pair of them stumbled across the room, to the bed that was covered in sweat-stained sheets. God, Bucky was heavy, more so than he looked. Steve tried desperately to keep his mind out of the gutter, but it was difficult, what with Bucky’s arm over his shoulders, Steve’s hand clinging to a naked hip.
It wasn’t a secret to anyone in Steve’s life, he was bisexual. He never shied away about his feelings towards men and women, never felt shame, never felt like he had to hide who he was, none of that. But, there, holding Bucky’s body against his, as that naked man’s sponsor, he forced himself to focus on doing his job, on keeping Bucky sober, hell, on keeping him alive.
Once Bucky was in bed, Steve covered his shaking form with several thick blankets and turned off the lamp. Bucky’s teeth were chattering hard enough that Steve feared they would chip. He dropped to the edge of the bed and pushed Bucky’s hair away from his sweaty forehead.
“Shhh, Bucky,” he breathed, hand continuing to stroke Bucky’s hair. “It’s alright. Go to sleep, that’s it.” Bucky’s eyes fluttered closed, his dull blue orbs flicking back and forth erratically. The breath was tearing in and out of him to the point that Steve was worried he would start hyperventilating.
Steve yanked the phone from his pocket and opened the white noise app that made it possible for him to sleep. After selecting the one where it sounds like a cat is purring right inside of your ear, he set it on the nightstand and continued to stroke Bucky’s hair. It took less than five minutes before Bucky fell asleep. He continued to twitch every so often, but his shivering had stopped, which was a good sign.
While Bucky slept, Steve plucked the towels and clothes from the floor, throwing them into a basket. Next, he shrugged out of his jacket and started cleaning the bathroom. There was vomit in the sink, on the mirror, even in the shower, but it didn’t bother Steve. Hell, he remembered cleaning up his own shit and vomit for two whole weeks when he couldn’t score a damn thing. Detox is hell on its own. But to accidentally detox? That shit made detox look like a cakewalk.
With the bathroom clean, Steve wound his way through the small apartment until he found the washer and dryer. They were stacked atop each other, in a closet. He had a load going in less than a minute. The kitchen was tackled next. Dirty dishes were stacked all over the place, food was caked onto the stove top and inside the microwave, takeout containers from various restaurants were scattered around, and the fridge, shit, he had to hold his breath just to clean it out.
Three loads of laundry, four loads of dishes, running the vacuum over the carpet three times, and four hours later, Steve was standing in the doorway, watching Bucky sleep as he smoked a cigarette. Even drenched in sweat and his tanned skin gone grey, Bucky’s beauty was striking. His lashes were long and dark, his cheekbones could probably cut glass, or someone’s inner thigh.
Probably his girlfriend, he thought with a roll of his eyes.
Of course, someone like Bucky would have a girlfriend, he was too sexy to not have a woman draped on his arm, a woman that would wrap their lips around his thick cock. He couldn’t deny that he had taken a look. He was only human, after all, a very curious human.
Groaning in frustration, Steve tore his eyes away and forced himself to look outside, and that was how he stayed, staring into the city he loved, smoking until he was hungry. After eating his fill, some cheap chinese place around the corner, he put the leftovers in the fridge and settled into a chair in the corner, his legs propped up, and let his eyes drift closed.
THREE
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