I had the urge to write a little ficlet to show my appreciation for the Actual Treasure Human Being that is @dreadlockholiday, so I did. I hope you like it, Dready ❤. Thank you for being amazing.
[This technically takes place in the Compatible a/b/o ‘verse (with Alpha Steve and Omega Bucky and yes, that’s right, back on my pre-Heat nesting bullshit), but can absolutely be read as a standalone.]
Steve walks into the cozy closet, warm bowl in hand, closing the door behind him to keep the comfort of their combined scents from escaping. His heart melts when his mate’s head pops up adorably from under the mess of blankets and sheets and unwashed clothing.
“’lpha?” Bucky slurs, blinking his bleary eyes open.
Steve can’t stop the proud feelings blooming in his chest, nor does he want to. Bucky must be getting close; he only starts calling Steve ‘Alpha’ right before the Heat hits.
“Right here, sweetheart,” he soothes, crawling into the nest carefully so he doesn’t spill the contents of the bowl. “You’re going to eat some soup for me, okay?”
Bucky tips his nose into the air, and he looks exactly like a cat when he gives the aromas wafting off the bowl a quick sniff, judging it.
“Chicken noodle?” he asks, deciding the soup can be trusted enough to start crawling into Steve’s lap.
Bucky settles his soft, naked body across Steve’s thighs, peering down into the bowl with a critical eye.
Steve grins. “Yep, ‘cept for the better cuts of chicken. Only the best for my Omega.”
Bucky inspects the soup a little more. Steve wants to kiss him, but not yet. After he’s fed his mate.
Steve dons a scandalized expression. “Never. What kind of monster do you think I am?”
The joke makes the corner of Bucky’s mouth tip upward. He relaxes, finally settling down into Steve’s lap.
“Here you go,” Steve murmurs, lifting a full spoon up to Bucky’s lips. He smiles when Bucky quickly slurps it up and closes his eyes to the comforting warmth.
Steve helps Bucky finish his soup in companionable, sweet silence. Bucky might be close to his Heat, but Steve can also feel himself approaching his partnering rut as he basks in the smoldering satisfaction of taking care of his Omega. His cock is hardening in his boxer briefs, but he’ll ignore it. It’s not time—not yet.
Once the bowl is empty, Steve briefly leaves the nest—much to Bucky’s chagrin—to place the bowl out of the way on a shelf before climbing back in with all due haste. He grabs a comb on his way.
“Can I brush your hair, sweetheart?”
Bucky shakes his head and grabs for Steve as he reenters the bundle of blankets and soft things, and Steve immediately moves to lay on his side behind and hold him—but Bucky stops.
“No,” Bucky whines petulantly. Steve arches an eyebrow at him. “Later. And I wanna be the big spoon.”
Steve guffaws. He loves this point in the pre-Heat, when Bucky gets so possessive that he starts clinging to Steve like a monkey.
“Alright,” he grins. “You got it, doll.”
Steve turns to lay on his other side. Bucky wastes no time wrapping his needy limbs around Steve’s bulk. It’s comical, really, when Bucky does this; he’s so much smaller than his Alpha. His entire reach barely gets around Steve’s shoulders, and when he hooks his feet around Steve’s legs, they have to find purchase above his knees.
Bucky makes a happy sound once he’s satisfied with their new position. He promptly plants his face in the crook of Steve’s neck, nosed pressed to his scent glands.