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“Please,” Steve says, “I want it,” and Bucky isn’t sure he’s ever met anyone who can deny Steve a thing. Especially not when Steve is like this, breathless on his hands and knees and burning hot and tight around Bucky’s dick, panting against a damp spot on the pillow, fingers twisted up in the sheets.
He pulls almost all the way out, slowly, and looks down at the head of his cock holding Steve open like this. Steve makes a rough noise, and Bucky takes it as his cue to thrust back in, smooth and hard, his fingers clenching tight on Steve’s hips at the bow of Steve’s back. “You sure?” Bucky says, and hardly recognises his own voice. He presses in close, slides his mouth over the curve of Steve’s shoulder, digs his teeth into the meat of it just hard enough to leave a faint mark. He stays pressed in deep, waiting.
“You heard him, didn’t you?” The mattress dips as Tony shifts closer to them, away from the edge of his oversized bed and close enough to rest a hand on Steve’s side. They both watch as it rises and falls in time with Steve’s heavy breathing, and then Tony slides it down until his knuckles are bumping against Bucky’s hips. Tony leans in close enough for his breath to hit the side of Bucky’s neck, hot and damp.
Bucky turns to look at him. “It seems a – seems a lot.” He stumbles over the words as Steve squeezes tight around him, and swallows hard. He doesn’t want to admit it’s something he’s never tried before, not with Steve trusting him like he is. Not in front of Tony.
“Bucky,” Steve mumbles. His voice is muffled by the pillow. Bucky runs a hand up and down his back, fingers brushing the sweat-damp hair at the back of his neck. “You know how much – ah, how I want you both.”
Bucky breathes in sharply. Tony’s lips brush against his shoulder, dance up to his neck, and then there’s the hot, wet touch of his tongue to the shell of Bucky’s ear before he speaks again. “You ever done this before?”
“Guys weren’t exactly lining up to sleep with each other back in the forties,” Bucky says, steady as he can. “Why,” he shoots back, “have you?”
“Nope,” Tony says. He sounds perfectly at ease about it. “How about you, Cap?”
Steve huffs out a laugh. It makes him clench around Bucky again makes Bucky bite his lip. “Yeah, there was a lot of scope for it when I was frozen.”
“I’ve seen a lot of things, though,” Tony adds. “We can work it out.” He nudges his chin into Bucky’s shoulder, shifts behind him and kisses his neck again, close enough that his dick nudges up against the small of Bucky’s back for a second, hard and sticky against Bucky's skin at the tip. “You should be on your back.” Bucky gives Tony a look, not as sharp as he’d like, too distracted by Steve beneath him to really express how he feels about Tony Stark telling him what to do right now. “What, you don’t want Steve to ride you?”
They fuck like that less often, but Bucky thinks back to the last time, Steve arched above him to get the right angle, strong enough that he could probably go all night like it, looking down at Bucky but still so completely open, and he pulls out of Steve slowly, biting his lip again at the Steve’s low groan. He rolls to the side, stretches out on his back, dick hard against his stomach, and twists his head to kiss Steve, slow and dirty. “C’mon.”
He and Tony both watch in silence as Steve pushes himself back up onto all fours, sits back and shoots Bucky a lazy, satisfied smile. He turns his head to meet Tony’s mouth, and Bucky watches them kiss, the way Tony uses his teeth and tongue but lets Steve pull him into it every time, lets Steve pull him closer.
Then Steve pulls back, moves to straddle Bucky’s hips, lifting himself up on his knees, and he turns to look at Tony. “Like this?”
Just the sight of Steve like this, muscles of his thighs standing out, stretched up above him and built like a goddamn sculpture is enough to go straight to Bucky’s dick, even before Steve takes hold of it, lining him up. Steve sinks down slowly, and Bucky concentrates on the sounds, the soft noise from the back of Steve’s throat and the appreciative one coming from Tony, the wet, filthy sound of his cock pressing back inside Steve, slick with lube, and has to close his eyes for a few moments because combined with the visual it’s almost too much. When he opens them again, Tony is behind Steve, mouth open against the side of his neck, pressed in close, and Bucky is all the way in, Steve shifting in tiny movements on top of him.
“I’m gonna get more lube, okay?” Tony says.
“Yeah.” Steve nods, movements starting to evolve into something of a rhythm, and Bucky digs his heels into the mattress and thrusts up hard. Steve’s voice drops a pitch lower. “Yeah.” He breathes out, slow and heavy. “Jesus.”
“Hey.” Bucky reaches up, brushes his fingers over Steve’s jaw until Steve gets the hint. Steve leans down to kiss him quickly. “We’re not gonna hurt you or anythin’, right?”
From the soft look on Steve’s face, Bucky half expects him to come out with something crazy about how Steve thinks Bucky and Tony could never hurt him. Steve smiles and rolls his hips. “I’m pretty sure I can take it. Wouldn’t ask otherwise, but you two – you just. You drive me crazy, you make me want you both so bad.”
“I think you drive us pretty crazy right back,” Tony says, climbing back on the bed, lube in hand, and Bucky laughs breathlessly in agreement because Steve is enough to drive anyone crazy, end of story. “Okay, so I’m just gonna.” There’s the click of the cap opening, another wet sound as Tony coats his fingers. “One more finger first, yeah?”
Steve nods, then gasps, which Bucky takes to mean that Tony is touching him – and then Tony’s sticky, slightly cold finger is brushing the base of his dick as Steve lifts himself up a little, and Bucky forgot about this part, somehow, the way he’s going to feel everything almost as much as Steve. Steve is so tight around him that he can’t understand how anything else is going to fit, but Tony manages to work one finger in, then two, Steve stretching and opening around him and bending down to gasp into Bucky’s mouth at the feeling. Bucky can feel it too, Tony’s fingers getting Steve wetter and rubbing against Bucky’s dick as he crooks them, and Bucky can’t stop moving, hands restless and running over Steve’s shoulders while he tries to keep his hips still and not give in to instinct and start thrusting again.
“Steve,” Tony breathes, and Bucky recognises the awed, almost reverent tone of his voice because the same feeling is running through him, burning hot in his veins. “Fuck. Fuck.”
“Hey,” Bucky says, forcing himself to stay in the moment. Steve looks almost dazed above him, his mouth slack, his eyes glazed, cheeks flushed and a thin layer of sweat covering him. “You okay, buddy?”
“Yeah.” Steve smiles again, laughs, shaky but genuine. “Yeah, this is just. Whoa.”
Tony’s fingers move more deliberately inside him, twisting with purpose, and Bucky digs his nails into Steve’s shoulders at the feeling, Steve gasping as though there’s not enough air in the room for him. “Another finger?” Tony asks. “Or.” Bucky hears him swallow above the heavy sound of breathing filling the room.
“Just do it,” Steve says, and his voice is still a little shaky, but Bucky recognises that determined glint in his eye, the set of his jaw. It’s one of the few things about him that didn't ever change with the serum, the stubbornness of a kid who doesn’t know when to quit. “I want it.”
Tony’s fingers felt intense, even for Bucky, but it’s nothing compared to how his cock feels, hard and slick and pressing in alongside Bucky’s where there’s just no space for it. Steve is making desperate noises that Bucky would worry mean he’s in pain, but Steve’s still hard, and every few seconds he gets it together enough to lean down and kiss Bucky, hands flat on the mattress either side of him, like Bucky is the one who needs reassuring. The grip Tony has on Steve’s hips is white-knuckled, and Bucky moves his hands to Steve’s hips as well, a softer touch, rubbing his thumbs over Tony’s knuckles.
Bucky has no idea how long it takes for Tony to push all the way in. It’s like they’re out of time when they’re like this in Tony’s room, and it’s hard to get a rhythm going like this, hard to do much of anything but pant and marvel at the feeling and try hard not to come already, but each time they move Steve clenches around them and their dicks rub together and Steve swears, filthy language he only ever resorts to in desperate situations. To Bucky, somehow, it’s become one of the hottest things he knows, dirty words shaped by Steve’s innocent looking mouth. Tony’s murmured comments seem too distant to focus on, probably meant more for Steve anyway.
When Tony reaches around and curls his hand around Steve’s dick, a firm and familiar grip, it only takes a few strokes before Steve is moaning and shuddering, fingers digging in bruise-tight at Bucky’s sides, coming in hot spurts on Bucky’s stomach, up to his chest, over Tony’s fingers.
“God,” Steve stammers, “sorry, I—” and that’s enough to set Bucky off too, and he comes so hard that he barely notices when Tony’s orgasm follows, his toes curling into the sheets, his mouth open wide and soundless, hips jerking up in helpless, rhythmless twitches that make Steve moan and choke out needy little gasps all over again.
“Jesus,” Bucky manages. Steve winces as Tony pulls out a few seconds later, and Bucky reaches for him again, runs his thumb over Steve’s bottom lip to soothe him. “That. That was.”
Tony collapses down next to Bucky on the bed, looking like he’s just completed a marathon, soaked in sweat and struggling for breath, but Steve stays where he is, on top of Bucky. Bucky can feel every tiny movement Steve makes, and it’s almost too much after coming so hard, but he likes the feeling anyway, still being inside of him, connected to him in such a deep way. Steve’s grinning down at him like he can’t believe what’s just happened, one hand rubbing through the come all over Bucky’s stomach, the other stretched out to tangle with Tony’s fingers next to them.
“Told you,” Steve says. He sounds exhausted, and he bites his lip as he finally lifts himself off of Bucky and then drops down into the tiny space between Bucky and Tony, wriggling until they shift enough to make space for the width of his shoulders. He’s looking up at the ceiling, and his expression is only a shade or two away from smug, totally, completely satisfied, something that would look more at home on Tony’s face, or even on Bucky’s. Bucky shares a look with Tony across Steve’s chest. “Knew I’d be able to take it.”