Title: Immerse
Fandom: Captain America/Marvel
Rating: PG
Length: 476
Content notes: hints at kink.
Author notes: For fan-flashworks for the “Wager” challenge
Summary: Set during WWII, Bucky and Steve have some time alone between missions, and Bucky decides they should make a friendly wager (and the loser gives the winner a hot bath).



Bucky brought another pot of boiling water to the tub and poured it in, again refusing Steve’s help.

“It’s a matter of honor.”



“Stubbornness, more like,” Steve replied.

“Like you would know the difference.”

Steve sighed but sat on the tiny stool, waiting. Bucky always honored his bets, and they had bet that whoever lost the shooting contest would have to do the old-fashioned heat and pour method so the winner could take a bath in the old house their team was staying in, built long before running water. They were supposed to be lying low until their next set of orders came in, so of course Bucky had gotten bored and insisted on a bet. And it was a well-off house once too, so the tub was larger than most, meaning Bucky had plenty of work.

After several more pots of water, Bucky tested the water in the tub with his hand.

“Temperature’s just right. Hop in, Steve.”

Steve stripped, folded his clothes and put them on the stool, and tried not to blush at Bucky watching him. Bucky didn’t see him that way, anyway.

He stepped into the tub and sat down slowly, felt the heat and water jostle against his body.

“This… feels really, really good, Buck. Thanks.”

Bucky took the sponge, dipped it into the water, and started to run it across Steve’s back.


“Buck?” Steve managed not to gasp.

“Deal was, the loser has to give the winner a hot bath.”

“I thought that meant heating up the water,” Steve said, confused.


“You want me to stop?” Bucky’s expression was perfectly blank.

Steve really didn’t. “I guess… if you don’t mind.”

Bucky smirked, then kept rubbing Steve’s back.

“I feel bad, Buck, enjoying this nice hot bath when you’re the one who did the work,” Steve said eventually. He was leaning forward, face downward, so Bucky could wash the back of his neck.

“Bet’s a bet.”

“Yeah.... Um.... But just so I don't feel bad, uh.... It’d be a tight squeeze, but there might be room for us both.” Steve kept looking down, too anxious to move.

Bucky ran his hand, gentle, up Steve’s spine and rested it on his shoulder. “Thought you’d never ask.”


Steve looked up. “You don’t — you… you never used to.”



Bucky shrugged. “Almost getting tortured to death makes you realize what you want. And why you shouldn’t be scared to go get it.” He stared at Steve, eyes wide with need, with something deeper, something that almost made Steve want to tear up.

Steve swallowed it down and smiled. “I knew you lost on purpose as soon as it happened. I just didn’t figure out why ’til now.”

“Yeah, you were never very bright.”

Steve grinned. “Just get in here,” he said.

Bucky climbed in then, clothes still on, and straddled Steve in the tub. He kissed him, long, sweet, gentle then deeper, possessive, until Steve was breathing hard.

“I thought you didn’t have to reach for air anymore,” Bucky said, smiling.

“I can go longer without air than you can.”

“Should we bet on it?”