Work Text:
The entrance hall to their apartment is dark when they stumble into it at two in the morning, and Bucky has every intention of leaving it that way. He’s got better things to do right now than turning on the goddamn lights, thank you very much.
Things such as making sure that Steve’s warm, solid body stays pressed right up against him, Steve's back to Bucky’s front, Bucky's nose buried in the downy hair at the nape of Steve's neck and his lips pressed to the soft, sweet-smelling skin just below Steve’s right ear. Bucky’s hands grip Steve’s slim hips, yanking him back every time Steve attempts to walk further into their home or break away halfheartedly.
“Buck,” Steve huffs again, head lolling back when Bucky’s teeth scrape teasingly over his earlobe. “Come on, just let me –”
“I’ll let you do anything you want, sweetheart,” Bucky murmurs. “Anythin’ you want, 's yours.”
“Yeah?” Steve breathes, grinding back against him. “So you gonna let me turn on the damn lights?”
Bucky growls. “Leave ‘em.”
"Bucky."
“What.”
“Just get off me for one second, come on.”
“Don’t wanna.” Bucky tightens his grip, sliding his metal hand up Steve’s ribs to his chest and squeezing the tantalizing swell of his left pec.
Steve makes a sound that’s equal parts appreciation and exasperation before he finally manages to push Bucky off, just far enough to be able to hit the light switch.
Bucky’s indignation at being shoved off vanishes as soon as he gets a chance to take in Steve’s appearance. Steve’s nice, fancy clothes are rumpled and askew as a result of Bucky’s eager hands tugging at them, his pretty face all flushed, mouth red from Bucky’s hungry kisses. He looks good enough to eat, and Bucky is man enough to admit that turning on the lights may have had its merits.
Bucky whistles softly. “Goddamn, sweetheart.” His eyes rake appreciatively down Steve’s body and back up again. “Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
Steve huffs, though the blush high on his cheeks gives him away as he lets himself be looked at.
Bucky’s mind is buzzing, his skin tingling like it used to back when alcohol still affected him. He isn’t drunk now though, and neither is Steve, although they are both a little high on the residual energy of the party they’ve just come back from. Since it was Pepper’s big four-oh, Tony had naturally pulled out all the stops. Champagne fountains, patisserie buffets, magicians, a fucking doo-wop band – you name it, Tony Stark's people wrangled it.
Bucky had been on the dancefloor for most of the night, feeling almost like he was nineteen years old again, shimmying and hopping the night away in one of those old Brooklyn dance halls. He’d danced with Nat, with Pepper and Wanda, even once with Steve, when Steve had loosened up enough to let himself be pulled out onto the floor. It had been good to let his hair down for a while, have some good old-fashioned fun. As a result, Bucky is feeling more relaxed, more present than he has in longer than he can remember.
His buoyancy seems to have rubbed off on Steve, who’s been loose and smiley all night, touching Bucky whenever he was within arm’s reach. Slow dancing was followed by Bucky pressed up against Steve’s back during the ride home on Steve’s motorcycle, those narrow hips fitting snugly between Bucky’s thighs while the vibrations of the engine’s rumble added to the heat already building low in his gut. He'd remained plastered to Steve’s back all the way from the parking lot below their building to their front door, nuzzling at the back of Steve’s jaw and letting his hands roam along his sides and hips and chest, copping a feel whenever he could.
Bucky knows Steve doesn’t mind. He never minds, quite the opposite. His baby is so easy for it, and Bucky loves him for that and about a million things besides. Still, in order to get his bike parked and locked securely, and because they passed one of their neighbors in the hallway, and then because Steve had to find his keys in the pocket of his slacks and open the variety of locks on their front door, he'd batted Bucky’s hands away and shoved him off a few times, playfully tutting and rolling his eyes at him as they made their way back to their apartment.
And Steve’s token resistance – it sparked something in Bucky. A memory, perhaps. He can’t quite recall a particular instance, but there’s something nagging at the back of his brain, something telling him that this is a thing they used to do, him and Steve. He’s almost certain of it, even if he doesn’t remember the specifics.
He could ask Steve about it, of course, but Bucky doesn’t feel much like talking right now. At least, not about anything other than how good Steve’s ass looks in his fitted slacks and how much Bucky wants to get his mouth on him. Alternatively, he could just act on the hunch and see how Steve responds – and honestly, that idea appeals to him a hell of a lot more. If Steve doesn’t take the bait, or if he laughs, well, then that wouldn’t be the end of the world either.
So when Steve turns around and walks away to turn on the lights in the rest of their apartment, Bucky follows, coming up closely behind him and catching him around the waist again.
“C’mon, honey,” Bucky murmurs, “don’t play coy now.” His lips brush the side of Steve’s neck, eliciting a small shiver from him. “Thought we were gettin’ along tonight, you and me. Don't you like me anymore?”
Steve stills, almost imperceptibly if not for how close of a hold Bucky's got on him. What's more, his pulse quickens, picking up just a little under Bucky’s lips, while Bucky's own heart speeds up in anticipation.
“Sure I do,” Steve says, after a pause. He doesn’t turn around, but makes no move to untangle himself from Bucky's embrace either. “Wouldn’t have gone out dancing with you tonight if I didn’t like you, would I?”
And, oh, the subtle implication in those two sentences – it makes something inside of Bucky thrill, makes his lips curve against Steve’s neck.
“‘M real glad to hear that, sweetheart. And I treated you right, didn’t I? Danced with you in front of all your friends, bought you your favorite drinks... Did’ya have a good time, doll?”
Steve hums, swaying lightly into him. “I sure did. Had a swell time with you tonight, Bucky Barnes.”
Pulling away, Bucky turns Steve around and walks him backwards, slowly backing him up against the doorpost. Steve ducks his head a little, looking at Bucky from under his obscenely long lashes. God, Bucky could just die, Steve's so pretty. Pure, golden sunshine for Bucky to bask in and warm himself on whenever he pleases. His beautiful baby.
Bucky smiles, catching Steve’s gaze and holding it. “It doesn’t have to be over yet, you know.”
Steve's eyebrows draw together ever so slightly, giving him a charmingly puzzled look. “What do you mean?”
“What I mean," Bucky says, tilting his head a fraction, “is that we could keep spending time together for a little longer, if you wanted. Maybe cuddle up on the couch for a while, keep each other nice ‘n warm on this cold dark evening. How's that sound?”
“Oh,” Steve breathes, averting his eyes. “I mean, I don’t know. It – it’s pretty late. I should probably head to bed soon.”
Bucky has to forcibly push down the wave of excitement that bubbles up inside of him at Steve going along with this, and so easily, too. Given that he spent decades as a covert operative, it's harder than it should be to school his features into something a little more nonchalant.
“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Bucky agrees smoothly. “Bed’s probably more comfortable than the couch anyway, huh?”
Steve huffs, looking a little flustered as he crosses his arms over his chest. “That’s not what I meant.”
Bucky winks. “‘Course you didn’t, good girl like you.”
And that – that makes Steve’s eyes widen, makes him suck in a sharp breath that Bucky can feel reverberating low in his gut.
Oh yes, Bucky thinks. Now we’re talking.
“I’d like to, though,” he says, softly, like he's sharing a secret. “And I think maybe you would, too. Am I right, darlin’?”
Steve doesn’t reply, but Bucky didn't expect him to, so Bucky forges on.
“Tell me, what are you worried about, huh? That folks are gonna think you’re easy? That little Stevie Rogers makes time with just anyone? Or worse,” Bucky adds, with a roguish grin, “with someone like that scoundrel Bucky Barnes?” Lifting a hand, he tips Steve’s face up with an index finger under his chin. “Well, I ain't gonna tell ‘em, honey. No matter what people may say about me, I am a gentleman, and gentlemen never kiss and tell. Your secret’s safe with me.”
Steve's eyes don't leave Bucky's as he considers this, teeth tugging at his plump bottom lip in a way that's making Bucky think all sorts of unholy thoughts.
“But… it would be a sin,” Steve says finally, sounding unsure. “Wouldn't it?”
“Not if I make an honest man outta you someday. Nobody has to know.”
“God would know,” Steve mutters demurely, the beautiful little shit. “Sister Elise says He knows everything.”
“God won’t mind if we get a little head start,” Bucky counters, “and what Sister Elise doesn't know won't hurt her.”
Steve still looks a little dubious, but doesn’t protest when Bucky starts to gently guide him towards the couch. Bucky keeps his eyes on him the whole time, cataloging the minute changes in Steve's demeanor. The way his shoulders are raised slightly higher than usual, his steps a little less certain, his eyes drifting around the room without fixing on anything.
Yeah, Steve remembers too.
“Come on, sit with me.” Bucky pats the spot next to him in invitation. “No need to be nervous, doll, I promise. Just wanna get to know you a little better, is all. That alright with you?”
“I guess so.” Steve still doesn't sound totally convinced, but he sits down stiffly on the couch next to Bucky nonetheless. He shifts a little closer when Bucky drapes an arm loosely across his shoulders.
For a moment, Bucky just watches the way Steve’s ridiculously long lashes cast shadows on his cheekbones in the low light. God almighty, he really is something else. Bucky couldn't hope to deserve Steve even if he lived a thousand years and did a thousand good deeds, but he isn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Not anymore. Not when he's gotten this second chance.
“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?” Bucky asks, and it's only partly a line. He knows he tells Steve all the time, but he can never tell him enough.
Steve looks up slowly, meeting Bucky’s gaze. His eyes look somehow bigger and rounder than they usually do, full of hesitance and sweetness. Bucky mentally composes another sonnet about those baby blues and files it away with the rest of his already substantial collection.
“You think I’m beautiful?” Steve asks, almost shyly.
“I think you’re the most beautiful guy in all of New York City, by a country mile. A real knockout.”
Steve's lips curve into a small smile, his shoulders loosening just a little. “You ain’t so bad yourself, Barnes. I know plenty of girls who'd love to be in my position right now.”
“Oh, yeah?” Bucky smirks, biting his bottom lip before leaning in conspiratorially. “Well, that's too bad for them, ‘cause there’s no one I’m hopin’ to steal a kiss from but you.”
Steve swallows audibly. “That so?”
“Hmm. So, whaddaya say? You gonna let me?”
He watches Steve consider this, cocking his head to the side a little as if he actually has to think about it.
“Alright,” Steve decides finally, with a small nod. “‘Suppose just one kiss won’t hurt.”
It’s a little ludicrous, the way Bucky’s gut thrills as he starts to lean in, considering he’s kissed Steve countless times even just tonight. But there’s something about it, something about this game they’re playing together, that almost makes it feel like it’s their very first kiss all over again.
It starts off chaste; just a light press of lips, a shared breath – but Bucky Barnes wouldn’t be Bucky Barnes if he didn’t push his luck a little. Lightly sucking Steve’s bottom lip between his own causes Steve to make a small sound, hardly more than a sigh, and his hand to drift up to rest on Bucky’s chest. Steve's lips are soft as ever, so soft and plush and sweet against his own.
When Bucky reluctantly makes himself pull away, Steve’s eyes are closed, his pink lips slightly parted. Neither of them speaks for a long moment.
“Was that alright?” Bucky asks finally, his voice pitched low so as not to break the spell.
Steve slowly blinks open his eyes and lets out a shaky breath. “Yeah. I – Yes.”
“In that case,” Bucky murmurs, letting his nose brush lightly against Steve’s, “I’d really like to kiss you some more.”
Steve is leaning in again before Bucky has even finished speaking, as if despite his reservations, he is just as eager as Bucky is.
This time when their lips meet, Bucky hums into it, bringing a hand up to the back of Steve's head. Metal fingers slide into the short, silky hair at the nape of Steve's neck as he runs the tip of his tongue along the soft warmth of Steve's lips. They part for him slowly, hesitantly, allowing Bucky to venture into the velvety heat of his mouth. He licks into it eagerly, tasting chocolate strawberries, malt whiskey, and Steve.
It’s a while before Steve responds, but when he finally kisses him back, it's with soft, tentative swipes of his tongue against Bucky’s, as if it's the first time he's doing this. As if he doesn’t kiss Bucky to within an inch of his life on a daily basis.
It sparks more memories in Bucky’s mind, and all at once, he's hit with a vivid flashback to the first time they did this – the kissing, at least.
Steve was hesitant then too, until suddenly, he wasn’t. Bucky remembers it so clearly now: the way Steve, much smaller and more fragile back then, had groaned and pushed Bucky back onto their ratty old couch, climbing on top of him and pushing his tongue into Bucky’s mouth like he was trying to prove something to him. Bucky had thought, of course this is how he kisses. It had made his heart swell, and other parts of him besides.
It had taken time for Steve to let himself slow down, to accept Bucky’s reverent touches and endearments. Months and months it had taken him, but once Bucky had finally convinced him he didn’t need or want Steve to be a girl, that he wanted him just the way he was, Steve had let himself be doted on, sometimes.
Sometimes he'd even let himself be sweet-talked in that way Bucky had previously reserved for dames – even if his heart had never really been in it with any of them, not like it was with Steve.
It had been a joke, the first time Bucky had tried it. He’d fully expected Steve to sock him in the jaw for his efforts, but to his great surprise, Steve had blushed harder than Bucky had ever seen him blush in his life. So Bucky pushed it, just a little, and it turned out that lord , it really did it for both of them. Mind you, Steve had to be in the right mood – at times when he felt like people were looking down on him on account of him being small or sickly, when they called him a fairy and made fun of his long lashes and artist’s hands, he didn’t want to hear of it. Bucky knew better than to try, when Steve was feeling that way.
But when Steve was feeling good, amenable to Bucky’s whims and follies, he’d let Bucky treat him like he was precious and utterly desirable, like something to be coveted and won for himself. Even, sometimes, like one of those dames who had led sheltered lives, and who weren't yet knowledgeable about the ways of the world, nor the ways two people could make each other feel good. That in particular turned Bucky on more than anything: those big, innocent eyes and the shocked reactions when Bucky slid his hand up Steve's thigh or kissed the sensitive spot behind his ear. There was something about it that always got Bucky’s blood pumping fast, got him hard and aching in no time at all.
And right now, in the twenty-first century, on their really very comfortable, not at all ratty couch, Steve is letting Bucky treat him like that once again. Acting like he’s never been kissed, never been touched before. It presses all of Bucky’s buttons at the same time, making his brain light up like a fruit machine that's hit the jackpot.
He just wants Steve so goddamn bad. He’s always wanted him bad – back when he was a perfectly wiry little guy, and just the same now that he’s a mountain of muscle. Bucky's sure he wanted Steve even back when he didn’t consciously know who Steve was. Back when he didn’t even know who he was himself.
He tugs Steve closer still and Steve goes willingly, fitting himself up against Bucky’s side, hand still resting lightly on Bucky’s sternum. It sets Bucky’s blood on fire, the way Steve – his big, strong Steve – can still make himself appear smaller, almost delicate. The way he lets Bucky kiss him, lets Bucky put a hand on his knee and slowly, incrementally, slide it upwards.
Once Bucky’s hand is halfway up Steve’s thigh, though, Steve huffs and pushes it away.
“Don’t get fresh, mister,” he chides, though he sounds distinctly more breathless than he did fifteen minutes ago – and damn it if it doesn’t still make Bucky feel like a king, knowing he can get Steve to sound like that with just a kiss.
“Aw, c’mon, honey,” Bucky wheedles. “I swear I don't mean no disrespect. I just can't seem to keep my hands off you, see?” All the same, he moves his hand to Steve's midriff; a concession. “But I can keep ‘em above the belt for now, how about that?”
Steve looks at him for a moment with his blue eyes, rich and bright like sapphires, seeing straight into Bucky’s soul, before he casts them down and nods.
Bucky suppresses a grin and lets his hands slide around Steve’s middle, marveling for the thousandth time about how such a buff guy can have such a teeny tiny waist.
One of the most precious memories he recovered over the past couple of years was the first time he got his hands on Steve after the serum worked its magic. The sense of dissonance, like seeing double, the smell of him just the same, the same sounds falling from his lips, but his shape all different beneath Bucky's hands and mouth. Not bad different, necessarily, but different all the same.
Bucky thinks part of him will always miss Steve’s smaller shape, the way it had fit just right in his arms. But another, bigger part of him is still grateful that Steve finally got a body that worked properly. One that fit his fierce spirit, too big for his former bird-boned form. And there’s no denying Steve is gorgeous now too; acres of smooth skin over hard, rolling muscle, tall and strong and pale-golden like the morning sun.
Bucky grabs the fabric of Steve’s dress shirt and pulls at it, slowly tugging it loose from his pants. Slides his fingertips underneath the hem, trailing them over the thin fabric of Steve’s undershirt. Steve’s abs tighten reflexively at the light touch, his breath stuttering.
“Mind if I take this off?” Bucky asks, plucking at the shirt’s collar.
Steve's eyes narrow slightly. “Why?”
“Just think you'd be more comfortable that way, ’s all.”
Steve watches him for a long moment. “Well,” he graciously allows, “I guess I am a little warm.”
Bucky takes his time unbuttoning Steve’s shirt, one at a time until it’s hanging loose, framing his torso. He slides a hand from Steve’s navel to his sternum, feeling out the ridges of his abdominal muscles through the fabric of the white wife beater.
"Better?" Bucky asks, when he glances up and catches Steve watching him with slightly hooded eyes.
“Um. Yeah, I think so.”
“In that case,” Bucky says, hands tugging at the hem of Steve’s undershirt, “let’s get rid of this too, hm?”
Steve bites his lip, but finally gives a brief nod.
Slipping Steve's open dress shirt off his broad shoulders, Bucky follows it up by carefully pulling the undershirt up and over Steve’s head. Steve emerges with his hair standing up a little, like the world's prettiest duckling. Bucky can't help but smile at how adorable he looks.
When Steve bashfully crosses his arms over his chest to cover himself, Bucky makes a protesting sound.
“Aw c’mon, don’t hide, honey. You're beautiful. All the other fellas in the neighborhood would be so jealous if they knew I got to see you like this, you know.” He gently takes hold of Steve’s chin, ducking his head to catch his eyes. “Come on. Let me see, sweetheart. Please?”
Slowly, still a little hesitant, Steve uncrosses his arms, revealing his flushed chest.
Bucky groans, low and pleased. “Gorgeous,” he mutters, mostly to himself, though the way it makes Steve's flush deepen is certainly a nice side effect.
Bucky's hands, both flesh and metal, continue their exploration, gliding over soft, hot skin and lingering on the glorious swell of Steve's pecs. He can’t help but squeeze them a little; teasing, testing for firmness. He takes his time feeling Steve up, because if there's one thing Bucky’s got the last seventy years to thank for, it's that he has a lot more patience now than he used to.
It's what Steve deserves. He isn't just what the kids these days call a ‘snack’, or even a five course meal – he's a goddamn Michelin starred banquet worthy of royalty, and he should be savored and appreciated, not scoffed down and swallowed indiscriminately.
“God,” Bucky marvels, squeezing some more. “Feel even better than they look. Just the perfect handful. Anyone ever tell you how good you feel, honey?”
“No one’s ever touched me but you,” Steve confesses, his voice husky and low as he looks up at Bucky through his lashes.
The fact that Bucky knows it's true, the reminder that Bucky was Steve’s first and only and that's exactly how Steve wants it… It makes a surge of heat roar through him, possessive and smug, yet tender at the same time.
“That's real sweet of you, Stevie,” he says softly. “Lettin’ me be the first one to feel you up a little. Better make sure I do right by you then, don’t I?” Bucky cups both Steve’s pecs in his hands and pushes them together, making an appreciative sound low in his throat at the impressive décolleté it produces. “Sweet lord , look at that. Could make angels weep with these, I swear to God.”
And it’s not just the size of his chest – Steve’s nipples are a thing of beauty, too: small and so, so pink, like sweet little rosebuds, or those cotton candy jelly beans Bucky liked to buy at the local candy store with his hard earned cash. Steve tastes sweeter than any candy, though, Bucky knows this from experience.
The little gasp Steve lets out when Bucky finally bends down to put his mouth on him, closing his lips around Steve's left nipple and flicking it with his tongue, is so satisfying that Bucky has no choice but get him to make it again. It's one of Bucky’s absolute favorite things in the world, how delightfully sensitive Steve's nipples are. Always have been too, though the serum amplified it, meaning the smallest touch causes him to shiver and moan.
True to form, it takes no time at all for Steve to start squirming underneath him, fighting to contain the sounds that are threatening to spill out of him. Few things get Bucky hotter than how much Steve clearly enjoys this, having Bucky’s mouth on him. It’s so easy to take him apart by just loving on his tits a little, being just a little bit mean about it.
Bucky worries the tiny, hardened nub between his teeth for a moment, nipping at it sharply. Steve gasps, one of his hands flying to Bucky’s head. Bucky makes full use of the knowledge that Steve tends to go a little crazy from the contrast between the sharp, unforgiving pinch of his metal fingers, and the soft heat of his tongue, laving across the swollen little bud to soothe the sting. It makes Steve’s breath hitch every time, makes him squirm and sigh, long lashes fluttering against his rosy cheeks.
The growing heat between his own legs drives Bucky to try and take things further, pushing Steve backwards into the couch. Glancing down, he's pleased to see that Steve is already straining against his slacks, the fabric stretched taut over his bulge. Even though it's not exactly a surprise, Bucky bites back a grin at the confirmation that Steve's just as hot for this as he is.
Still, when Bucky’s hand tightens on Steve's hip, thumb sliding into the crease at the top of his thigh, Steve firmly pushes Bucky’s hand away yet again. He even crosses his legs – if a little gingerly, in his current predicament.
“Bucky,” he says, his stern tone diminished somewhat by his flustered appearance.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” Bucky says, not very apologetically at all. He still pulls back his hand, lifting it instead to the side of Steve’s face to cup his jaw, thumb sweeping across his cheekbone. “I just can’t seem to help myself. Can you blame me though, with you sittin’ there all dressed up like that, lookin’ pretty as a picture?” Bucky bites his lip, letting his eyes rove down Steve's chest down to his lap, without any attempt at hiding his thoughts. “Just seems to me it’d be a real shame if no one appreciated all that, you know?”
By now, Steve is blushing so hard he’s practically a space heater, and it’s beautiful, it’s amazing that Steve is clearly just as affected by this as Bucky is, his body reacting to the fantasy they’ve conjured up between them despite what his mind knows to be true. Bucky can’t help but lean in to kiss Steve’s heated cheeks, dragging his nose across to his temples and placing a soft kiss there, too.
“C'mon, baby,” he purrs, “don't you trust me? I promise I'll make you feel real good, no one will ever need to know. It’ll stay between you and me, cross my heart.”
Steve hesitates for a moment longer, making Bucky sweat, and even when he finally stops resisting, he doesn't give in all at once. He opens his legs little by little; slowly, uncertainly, like he's still not quite sure he should.
“That's good, Steve,” Bucky praises. “So good for me, that's it.”
This time, Steve doesn't stop Bucky when he slides his hand between Steve's thighs, but his breath hitches when Bucky’s palm glides lightly over his erection. Bucky’s own dick throbs in sympathy. When he presses down just a little, Steve whimpers, rocking into the cradle of Bucky's hand seemingly despite himself.
Bucky smiles against Steve’s cheek. “Yeah?”
Steve nods quickly, sucking in a breath when Bucky’s fingers tighten around the shape of him. The minute Bucky starts to massage him properly, a low moan breaks from Steve's throat.
“Oh,” he sighs, eyelids fluttering.
“Hmm. Feels nice, huh?”
Steve closes his eyes, his teeth pearly white where they’re biting down on his plump bottom lip. “Yeah.”
Bucky crowds in closer, prying Steve’s lip loose with his own teeth just so he can nibble on it himself. “Yeah, you like that, don’t you? I can feel it, y’know, how hard you are. Just from me kissin’ on you a little bit, huh? No shame in that, doll. I’m flattered, if anything.”
“Bucky,” Steve sighs, his hips making tiny aborted circles against Bucky’s flesh and blood palm.
Bucky kisses him deeper, sliding his free hand up to Steve’s neck and cupping the back of it to keep him close. Steve is panting now; small, hitched sounds, breathed right into Bucky’s mouth.
“Look at you,” Bucky murmurs, pulling back to watch Steve. He reaches up, running a hand through Steve’s hair and marveling at the feeling of the soft strands between his fingers, his new, Stark-manufactured arm so much more sensitive than the old metal one ever was. “Prettiest guy on this side of the Atlantic. How’d I get so lucky?”
Bucky savors the way Steve’s eyes go unfocused at the words, the way the praise so clearly affects him, makes him go a little soft and pliant. Usually, Steve is tough as nails, steadfast and unwavering, the steadiest thing in Bucky's life ever since their paths crossed on that fateful day almost eighty years ago. To see him become so relaxed, giving himself over to Bucky's care and trusting him to look after him… It makes Bucky feel some type of way, that’s for sure.
It's only once Steve starts to grow really restless and his hips start to thrust up to meet Bucky's hand that Bucky decides to move things along. He smoothly slides off the couch, kneeling in front of it and putting his hands on Steve's knees, gently pushing them apart. Steve pushes back, just a little; that reddened bottom lip of his between his teeth again, a small frown furrowing his brow.
"I don't know –"
“It’s alright,” Bucky tells him, “I promise. You just gotta trust me, honey.”
Steve doesn’t reply, but after another moment of hesitation allows himself to relax; lets Bucky run his hands up and down his legs.
When Bucky looks up at him and their eyes meet, for a moment, it's like the whole world falls away. Like staring straight into the sun, being blinded by its brilliance. Steve is always breathtaking, but rarely more so than when he's like this: flushed and needy, with red-bitten lips and heavy-lidded eyes.
Bucky's heart thuds, heavy and light at the same time, before she shakes himself. He takes a deep breath. Leaning down, he loosens Steve’s shoelaces, and then takes off his shoes and socks almost reverently; left first and then right.
“Can I?” he asks, hands pausing at Steve's belt.
Steve blinks fast, mouth slightly open. “Bucky, I'm not sure –”
Bucky shushes him again. “Just relax. Let me take care of you, huh? If you really want me to stop, just say the word. But I think I can make you feel real good, if you’ll let me.”
Steve doesn't say anything, nor does he make any other attempt to stop Bucky when he settles properly between his legs, but his eyes remain glued to him, following his every move. Bucky keeps his eyes on Steve's right back as he opens his belt and slides it out of the loops. Steve’s pupils dilate even further when Bucky flicks open the button on Steve’s slacks and slowly draws down the zipper.
“Lift your hips for me, sweetheart.”
Steve is quick to comply, and Bucky pulls down his slacks, lifting one leg and then the other to tug them off completely. At the sight of Steve’s thick, muscled thighs, Bucky groans softly. He takes great delight in running his hands over them, appreciating the feel of the soft, golden hair underneath his palms.
The best thing, though, the thing that almost makes Bucky want to cross himself and say a few Hail Mary's to boot, is the heavy bulge in Steve's gray briefs. The tantalizing swell of it, the way the fabric visibly struggles to contain it all, the dark patch already forming at the front… Bucky’s mouth waters instantly, a Pavlovian response. This time, he doesn’t ask before he leans in, driven by pure hunger as he nuzzles at Steve’s dick through his boxer briefs.
Steve's eyes go wide, a startled gasp escaping him.
Bucky hums low in his throat at the sweetly musky smell of him. He mouths at the fabric, adding to the wet spot Steve’s already left there, his lips leisurely tracing the outline of Steve’s erection, as if re-learning its shape. Up and down along the hardness, savoring the scorching heat perpetually coming off him. Steve shivers under his touch, his dark eyes tracking Bucky’s hands as they reach up to the waistband of his briefs, where the smooth, pink head of Steve's cock is already peeking out.
Never breaking eye contact, Bucky slowly pulls down Steve’s poor, straining briefs. His erection instantly springs free, slapping against Steve's taut stomach and leaving a glistening wet smear on his abs.
"Look at that,” Bucky drawls, licking his lips. “This all for me, baby?”
Steve’s cock is a thing of beauty, big and flushed, rock-hard in Bucky's hand when he reaches out and finally wraps his fingers around it. Steve makes a punched-out sound at the skin-on-skin contact, moaning softly when Bucky slowly starts to stroke him.
Bucky tears his eyes away from his hand on Steve’s cock to watch Steve's face. His handsome features are screwed up in pleasure, eyes closed and head tipped back against the couch’s backrest, the tendons in his neck straining because he's trying to hold back his moans. Bucky waits until Steve opens his eyes again, and only once their eyes lock does he lean down to take the swollen, leaking head of Steve’s cock into his mouth. He suckles on it, humming when it dribbles eagerly on his tongue.
“Oh my God,” Steve says breathlessly. One hand flies to his head to grab at his own hair, like he’s trying to anchor himself, the other balled up into a fist on the couch. “Oh, God.”
His massive chest is heaving, his wide eyes homed in on Bucky’s mouth, like he can hardly believe what he's seeing.
Making himself go slow, Bucky blows Steve almost lazily, taking his time to suck and lick and swallow, to savor his taste. He keeps his eyes on Steve all the while, loving the way Steve's hair is turning more and more messy by the minute, his lips redder and shinier the more Steve bites at them trying to keep quiet.
But Bucky knows what Steve likes, of course; knows just how to undo him. Little kitten licks right under the head, tight suction followed by sloppy, wet sweeps of his tongue up his shaft, swallowing around him whenever Steve’s cock bumps the back of his throat or letting the sensitive tip rub along the velvety inside of his cheek – Bucky plays him like a fiddle, and it doesn’t take long at all before Steve’s breathing starts to get more erratic, his moans high and broken-off the way Bucky knows means that he’s close.
The minute Bucky dips down and laves at Steve’s balls while still working his fist tightly over the head of his cock, Steve tenses under him and gasps, “Oh, God – oh, oh God, Bucky.”
Bucky takes him back into his mouth just as Steve's big body stiffens, back arching and cock twitching helplessly as he starts to come. His release floods Bucky’s tongue and Bucky drinks him down greedily, lapping it up, keeping at it until Steve starts to whimper from oversensitivity.
Almost regretfully, Bucky lets him fall from his mouth, before gently tucking him back into his briefs. Rising smoothly, he sits back down on the couch next to Steve, then takes Steve’s chin in his hand and kisses him straight on the mouth to make him taste himself. Steve moans quietly, letting Bucky lick into his slack, panting mouth.
“Sweetest thing I've ever tasted,” Bucky murmurs. “You were so good, honey. So perfect for me.”
Steve doesn't reply, still catching his breath, and Bucky grins to himself. Steve can run a marathon without going out of breath once, but get your mouth on his dick, and suddenly he's panting for it like a dog.
It takes a minute for Steve to recover, but when he does, he looks down the length of Bucky’s body and bites his lip.
“Bucky, you haven't…”
“Oh, don’t you worry about that. The evening’s still young, ain't it?” Bucky gets up, holding out a hand to Steve. “How about it, sweetheart? Wanna join me in the bedroom?”
Steve stills. “The bedroom?”
“Sure. I’m guessin’ you've got a nice, comfortable bed in there, don't you?”
“But – what for?” Steve asks, looking up at Bucky with big, round eyes. “I mean, what- what else would we do?”
Bucky gives him a wink. “Why don’t you let me show you?”
“Well, alright,” Steve agrees tentatively, letting Bucky pull him to his feet. “Can I just use the restroom first?”
Bucky kisses his cheek, then pulls away. “‘Course you can, sweetheart. Take your time.”
Steve nods, bending down to grab his slacks off the floor while Bucky shamelessly ogles his ass. Before he disappears through the doorway, Steve throws Bucky a lingering look over his shoulder that shoots straight to Bucky's dick. Bucky swallows, reaching down between his legs to adjust himself in his dress pants.
“Hurry, though,” he calls after Steve, and smiles when he hears him snort.
—
While Steve is freshening up, Bucky heads to their bedroom. He quickly closes the curtains, turns on the bedside lamps and turns down the bed. Next, he strips himself down to his boxer briefs, and then he sits on the edge of the bed to wait. There's a strange mix of nerves and anticipation coursing through his veins, making him feel jittery, alive; almost young. It’s silly, he knows that – it's just Steve. Except that Steve has never been “just” anything, and Bucky will never take him for granted, not if they live a thousand years.
Steve walks into the room bare-chested and barefoot, looking positively edible, if a little uncertain.
“Hi,” he says, eyes darting from Bucky's face to the bed, and then down to the floor.
“Hi, beautiful,” Bucky smiles. “Everything okay?”
Steve gives him a shy smile back. “I'm okay.”
“Good. Why don't you come over here, huh? I won't bite.”
Steve takes a step closer. His gray briefs hug his hips and ass sinfully, putting any Calvin Klein model to shame, but he still eyes the bed uncertainly.
“C’mon,” Bucky coaxes, patting the mattress. “Hop on up.”
Steeling himself, Steve bridges the final few steps between them and climbs in, carefully shuffling towards the center of the mattress. He's temptation personified, kneeling there in the middle of the bed: his powerful thighs bulging with muscle, making his waist look even tinier, his chest and shoulders even wider. He’s prettier than any pin-up Bucky's ever seen, and sexier by a mile.
Christ alive, Bucky is one lucky bastard.
Bucky kneels in front of Steve, smiling at the apprehensive look he's giving him. Reaching up, he tenderly cradles Steve's face between his hands and leans in to kiss him almost chastely, savoring the sweet taste of those pillowy lips. Steve inhales through his nose, unmoving, but letting himself be kissed.
It's not easy to make himself pull back, but somehow Bucky manages it. He puts a hand on Steve’s chest, gently pushing him back onto the mattress. Steve offers just the slightest bit of token resistance but goes down easily enough, his eyes fixed on Bucky’s face all the while.
Since they're in no rush, Bucky lets his eyes trail leisurely down Steve’s exposed body, over all that glorious, golden skin. Predictably, his gaze lingers on Steve's crotch, the bulge in his briefs belying the fact that he came not fifteen minutes ago. God bless the ol’ superserum. Bucky reaches out to lightly run the tip of his forefinger over the soft curve of it, causing Steve’s breath to hitch and his eyes to flutter closed.
“Sensitive, huh?” Bucky murmurs. For a minute, he watches the way Steve’s cock twitches under his touch, before he hooks his fingers over the waistband of Steve’s briefs. “I’m gonna take these off now, okay?”
Steve swallows. “Alright.”
Helpfully lifting his lips, Steve allows Bucky to slip off his briefs and slide them off his legs, finally leaving him completely naked. Bucky exhales heavily, but ignores Steve’s erection for now, instead reaching for Steve's left foot and pressing a soft kiss to his bare ankle. From there, he proceeds to kiss a slow trail from Steve’s calf up to his knee and then up along the inside of his thigh, pressing soft, wet kisses to warm skin as he goes. By the time he reaches Steve’s straining cock, Steve is trembling, breathing fast and shallow, his hands balled into fists at his sides.
“Bucky,” he sighs, wiggling those slim little hips.
“I know, sweetheart,” Bucky says, tracing Steve’s iliac crest with his nose. “‘S okay. I'll take care of you, just relax.”
“Please,” Steve says softly. His right hand comes up for a moment as if going to touch Bucky’s face, before he lets it drop to the mattress again. “Can you – will you kiss me?”
And how could Bucky deny Steve when he’s asking so sweetly? Bucky crawls up the mattress, hovering over Steve for a moment before leaning down to press their lips together, sweet and tender. Meanwhile, he slides a hand down Steve’s side until he reaches the peachy-soft inside of Steve’s thigh again, giving it a little push.
“Can you open your legs for me, Steve? A little wider, c'mon. Yeah, that’s good.”
“What are you –?”
"Sshh. I promised I’d make you feel good and I did, didn't I?”
Steve bites his lip. “Yeah. You did.”
“So if I say I know something else that will feel real good, for both of us, would you trust me?”
“What kind of thing –”
Bucky simply caresses Steve’s inner thigh for a moment, before he carefully ventures further. Reaching behind Steve’s firm, smooth balls, he slips two fingers between his cheeks, into the hot cleft of his ass, and gently rubs his fingertips against Steve's entrance.
Steve gasps audibly, looking so genuinely shocked that Bucky has to spare a moment to admire his acting skills.
“You’re a pervert,” Steve blurts out, wide-eyed, his legs closing halfway as if on instinct.
Bucky just smiles at him, reaching up with his free hand to tenderly stroke Steve’s disheveled hair back from his forehead.
“I can see why you might think that,” he says patiently, if a tad condescending, “but I swear it’s completely normal. People do it all the time, they just don’t really talk about it.” He pets Steve’s hole a little more, letting him get used to the touch. “Wouldn’t you like to know what it’s like, though? I promise it’ll feel real good.”
Steve doesn't reply right away, instead worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Bucky wants so badly to smooth out the frown between Steve's eyebrows with his lips, so he does.
Steve’s eyelids flutter. “How do I know you're not just trying to – spoil my virtue?” he asks, and there's the barest hint of laughter in his voice; the tiniest crack in their scene.
Bucky can feel a grin tugging at the corners of his own mouth, but he makes an effort to school his features into something more serious. He’ll be damned if he breaks first.
“I wouldn’t lie,” he promises solemnly, “not to you. You know when people get all secretive about spending private time with their sweetheart, or they use all those strange metaphors you used to hear about back in school?”
Steve nods hesitantly.
“Well, they’re talking about this. About touching each other like this,” – he rubs some more – “right here.”
“I – oh,” Steve says, breathless and squirming a little. “I- I didn’t know.”
“That’s alright, sweetheart. We all have to learn sometime.” Bucky raises an eyebrow, teasing at Steve’s rim with the tip of his forefinger. “I can teach you though, if you want. Do you?”
Steve licks his lips and nods slowly. “Please.”
“Okay,” Bucky smiles, pressing a quick kiss to Steve’s temptingly wet mouth. “It’ll be my pleasure.”
Reaching over to the bedside table, Bucky grabs the lube – which they never bother to put away since they get so much use out of it – and holds it up to show Steve the bottle. “This'll help things go a little more… smoothly.” He squirts some onto his fingers, coating them in the clear substance before reaching between Steve's legs again. “Might be a little cold,” he warns, just before he touches his slippery fingers to Steve’s hole.
Steve shivers as Bucky spreads the slick around carefully, taking care to keep his touch superficial for now.
“There,” Bucky whispers, “that should do it.”
Steve blinks. “Is – Was that it?”
“Oh no, honey. We're just getting started.”
“Oh.” Steve swallows, licking his lips again, a hint of curiosity in his eyes now. “So what's next?”
“Now, I'm gonna need you to breathe. Can you do that for me, Steve?”
“Sure, but why – oh.”
Bucky relishes Steve's shocked sound as he starts to push the tip of his finger inside of him, and it sinks in easily, so easy –
– too easy.
Bucky stills.
Steve is still tight, he always is, but he's not quite as tight as he should be. Which means – Jesus. Steve must’ve done it in the bathroom earlier; must've prepped himself without telling Bucky. That's… Fuck.
Bucky blows out a controlled breath in an effort to pull himself together, but when he looks up and meets Steve's eyes, Steve is innocence personified.
Bucky groans softly, slipping in a second finger next to the first and moving them in and out with ease. “You’re all ready for me, huh?” he purrs into Steve's ear. “Gonna let me put it in you, sweet thing?”
The question makes Steve's eyes widen even further, furtively darting down to Bucky’s crotch. “You mean – your-”
“C’mere.” Grabbing Steve’s right hand, Bucky presses a kiss to the back of it before guiding it between his legs, folding Steve's fingers around his dick to encourage him to give it a squeeze. “It’s alright, you can touch it. Get a feel for it first, if that helps.”
Tentatively, Steve lets his fingers explore the shape of Bucky, from tip to bottom. When they tighten around him experimentally, Bucky inhales sharply, sparks of pleasure shooting outwards through his limbs at the long overdue touch on his aching dick.
“It’s so big,” Steve whispers, sounding genuinely awed about it. “Won’t it hurt? When you, you know…”
Bucky groans, very nearly breaking character after all. “It might hurt a little,” he admits, trying to hide his breathlessness, “but only at first. And I’ll be gentle with you, sweetheart, don't you worry.”
“You promise?”
“I promise,” Bucky says, pressing a kiss to Steve’s cheek.
Steve nods and pulls back his hand. Sitting up, Bucky takes off his own briefs before finally wrapping a hand around himself. He gives his dick a few quick strokes, just enough to scratch the itch and spread the wetness that's gathered at the tip along his rock-hard shaft. Steve watches him with a mix of apprehension and hunger, his wide eyes fixed on Bucky’s hand on his cock.
Pushing Steve’s legs open wider, Bucky bends his knees and plants Steve’s feet on the mattress. Steve lets Bucky put him where he wants him, obediently lifting his hips when Bucky tells him to so he can push a pillow under his ass.
“It’ll be easier like this,” he explains.
Bucky kneels between Steve’s spread legs and grabs the lube again, slicking up his cock a little more. Shuffling closer, he gets a hand around himself, takes a breath, and lines up.
At first, he merely rests his cockhead against Steve’s entrance, marveling at how blunt and thick it looks compared to the tiny, tight pucker of Steve’s asshole. Then, he starts rubbing it against him in slow, teasing circles, spreading around the slick, making sure Steve is nice and wet for him while red-hot anticipation courses through his body.
“Ready?” He tears his eyes away from the mesmerizing sight to look up at Steve's face. Meeting his eyes, Steve nods, his bottom lip caught between his teeth again. Bucky exhales, and starts to push in.
And God. Jesus Christ and all the angels and the saints. Despite his prep, Steve is still so tight. He’s always so damn tight these days, his sweet little hole forever clenching shut again as soon as Bucky pulls out, no matter how long he spends fucking him open. At most, Steve gets relaxed enough to take him without much resistance, like he’s doing now, but his serum-boosted body refuses to loosen up more than that. Bucky is determined to make him gape someday, just a little bit, using whatever toys he needs to spread Steve open like he used to be able to back when Steve was smaller – but today is not that day. Today, Bucky appreciates the virginal tightness with everything he’s got.
When the head finally slips inside, Steve lets out a shocked little “Oh” as his body goes taut, wide eyes fixed on the ceiling. Bucky coos, hands stroking Steve’s sides with soothing swipes of his palms as he pushes into him deeper, inch by inch, sinking in slow and steady while he murmurs to Steve like he would a spooked horse.
“Just relax, baby. I’m going slow, I promise. Jesus, you’re tight. Ease up, honey, or you'll hurt yourself. Open up – come on, babydoll. Let me in, huh?”
Steve whimpers underneath him, gulping in short, labored breaths as he lets Bucky push into him, opening up for him so sweetly, like the good boy he is when he wants to be.
It's slow-going, but finally, Bucky is buried inside Steve to the hilt. Both of them are breathing hard, like they’ve been going at it for a while instead of just getting started. When Steve clenches around him, whether purposely or not, Bucky gasps, his hips rocking forward of their own accord.
“Ah,” Steve gasps, his face contorting. “Oh, don’t – Bucky -”
“Sorry,” Bucky groans. “‘M sorry, I can’t help myself. You just feel so good. So good for me, huh?” He rocks his hips again, just a little, just to test the waters. “How’s that feel, sweet thing?”
Steve whimpers again, his eyes shut tightly. “Hurts,” he says, his voice so small Bucky can barely make it out. “It hurts, Bucky, it's too big, ‘m not sure –”
If Bucky hadn’t known for a fact that Steve is an absolute champ at taking dick, even unprepped, and has never before complained about pain or Bucky being too rough, he would’ve broken the scene here to check in with him. Bucky would never actually want to hurt Steve. But as it is, he knows Steve is just acting, and if this is what Steve wants to play at right now, then Bucky is more than happy to play along.
“I know,” Bucky coos, just the slightest bit patronizing. He leans down to press a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “I know, baby. But that’s because it’s your first time, see? It’s supposed to hurt a little, means you’ve been good. Means you saved it up for me, didn’t you, Stevie?”
Steve nods rapidly, actual tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. God above, he’s as lost in this as Bucky is. It’s beautiful, transcendental, making Bucky’s heart soar.
“Yes,” Steve breathes. “For you, Bucky.”
“Oh,” Bucky whispers. He slowly circles his hips, grinding into Steve but not quite thrusting yet. “That’s sweet of you, honey, lettin’ me be your first. Such a good girl for me, huh?”
Steve moans, loud and sudden, the sound escaping him like he has no control over it.
“Yeah, that's right. You gonna be good for me for a little while longer, Stevie?”
“Oh,” Steve gulps. “Yeah.”
“I’m gonna move now, so you just gotta be brave for me, alright? Just for a minute, and then it’ll feel so good, I promise.”
Not waiting for a reply, Bucky slowly eases back, pausing just a moment to build the anticipation before sinking back in, filling Steve all the way up. Steve’s eyes roll back, the whimper that escapes him sounding far too small to have come from such a big guy.
“Relax. Come on, breathe for me, sweetheart, you can do it.”
Finally, Steve lets out a long breath and relaxes, his shoulders lowering down onto the mattress as his big, muscular body goes soft and pliant.
“That’s it,” Bucky breathes, feeling strangely proud. “Yeah, good. That’s real good, Steve.”
And it is; it’s so unbelievably, mind-blowingly good, Bucky can hardly stand it. In all his nearly hundred years of being at least functionally alive, Bucky has never experienced anything sweeter, anything more exhilarating or perfect than being inside of Steve. He’s never felt more alive, more whole , as when he’s making love to Steve; as when they’re making each other feel so good it’s like none of the bad things ever happened.
Bucky lets out a shuddering sigh as he allows himself to sink into it, into Steve. When he leans down to kiss him, it’s soft and tender, almost sweet. Almost as if it’s their first time all over again, apart from the fact that back then, the roles had been reversed.
“Sweetheart,” Bucky murmurs, lifting a hand to tenderly stroke Steve’s sweaty bangs off his forehead. “You’re doin’ so good. Look at you, takin’ me so beautifully. I’m so proud of you, babydoll.”
Steve whimpers again, his hands scrabbling at Bucky’s back as Bucky builds a rhythm. Rolling his hips, he lets Steve pull him in, lets the pleasure gradually swell between them. Oh, but Steve is a perfect pillow princess, happy to lie back and take it, take whatever Bucky wants to give him. For the millionth time, Bucky wonders how he’s gotten so damn lucky.
Don’t get him wrong, he loves it just as much when Steve is being rough and demanding, or when he’s free and uninhibited, just having fun with it, or when he’s cheeky and sassy to the point where Bucky has to teach him a well-earned lesson – Bucky loves Steve, loves everything about him, loves him every way he can get him.
But at the same time, this feels special. This is something from Before, something they’re rediscovering together, reclaiming for themselves, and God, it’s good. It’s so good it’s making Bucky’s head spin and his heart beat overtime, his cock throbbing where it's buried deep inside of Steve.
It's everything Bucky's ever wanted, until suddenly, it’s not enough.
Bucky feels it, the point where they both crave more at the same time, the slow-build suddenly too slow. He pushes himself up on his outstretched arms, giving him a bit more leverage, and his next thrust is harder, more forceful, making their skin slap together obscenely.
“Oh,” Steve gasps sharply, and – “yes, oh, god.”
“Fuck,” Bucky curses, doing it again, relishing the full-body shiver that runs through Steve when he brushes up against that spot deep inside of him. Bucky’s arms, flesh and metal alike, are steady as he holds himself up, but his heart is racing like crazy, skipping a lovesick beat when Steve strains upwards to silently ask for another kiss.
This time, there’s a hint of desperation to the kiss; a sharp inhale through his nose, a stinging bite to Steve’s bottom lip. Steve groans into his mouth, and Bucky reaches up with his left hand to take hold of Steve’s jaw, pushing at the hinge of it to force it open. He kisses him hard and filthy, fucking his tongue into Steve's mouth, wet and messy and not letting up until Steve is gulping for air.
Steve arches his back, undulating his body under Bucky like he's trying to take him deeper.
“Oh, m-more,” he pleads, breathless and feverish, “please, I need –”
“You need more, baby? You want it harder? Yeah, you do, huh?” Bucky slams into him again, a little meanly, knowing that’s what Steve is asking for. “Knew you'd be insatiable once you got a taste, pretty thing like you. Made for this, weren't you? Made to take my cock.”
Even now, Steve's whines and moans are the sweetest sounds Bucky’s ever heard. They go straight to his head, making him feel invincible. Bucky chases those sounds; angles and grinds and thrusts just right, wringing them out of Steve along with his pleasure.
With a growl, Bucky suddenly pulls out, ignoring Steve’s protests as he rests on his knees. Grabbing the backs of Steve’s legs, he pushes them up against his torso, effectively folding Steve in half. Hand on heart, it’s one of the best things in Bucky’s life – which has many good things these days – that his giant of a guy is somehow still as flexible as when he didn’t have any muscle to speak of.
“Can you keep ‘em up for me, doll?” Bucky asks, voice rough and low.
Steve does, his face flushed, mouth wet and open. He's a vision, an angel sent straight from the heavens, for Bucky to ruin and debauch.
“That’s perfect,” Bucky praises, hungrily taking in the picture Steve makes with his legs held up and spread wide. “You're perfect, babydoll.”
He allows himself a moment to admire the sight in front of him; Steve’s smooth, round cheeks and pretty pink hole, his heavy cock and balls a lovely shade of rose that complements the creamy paleness of his skin. He's smooth everywhere down here, even more so than before the serum, almost like it was some weird kind of side effect of it. Bucky wouldn't have minded some hair, of course, but he can't deny there's something titillating about the sight and feel of Steve's silky-smooth, rosy pink skin down here just the same.
Grabbing hold of Steve's cheeks with both hands, Bucky pushes them apart, spreading Steve open wider. He groans, practically salivating at the sight. Despite the fact that Bucky was just balls-deep inside of him, Steve’s hole looks tiny, tight and slightly puffy, glistening with slick. Bucky rubs the pad of his thumb against it, dipping it inside and feeling the muscle clench around the digit, like Steve wants him in deeper.
Bucky blows out a shaky breath. “Fucking hell, baby. You're drivin’ me crazy. Look at you, pullin’ me in. You need it bad, huh? God, you're sweet, prettiest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.”
Reluctantly pulling out his thumb, Bucky grabs his dick and rubs the head against the wet pucker again, letting it catch on the slight ridges of Steve’s fluttering rim.
“So hungry for me,” Bucky murmurs. Mesmerized, he presses just a tiny bit, just to feel it give a little. “Needy little hole just needs something in it, huh? Doesn't matter if it's a couple of fingers or a fat cock as long as it's full?” He dips the tip inside, just briefly, humming low in his throat when Steve whines at the loss when he pulls out again. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”
Steve squirms, spreading his legs even wider in invitation. “Please. C’mon, Bucky, please.”
“You want it? Hm?”
“Please.”
“Alright, honey,” Bucky agrees, almost absentmindedly. “Alright, I got you.”
Going slow, he starts to push back in, raptly watching his cock disappear into the tight grip of Steve’s body, inch by inch. It’s an enchanting sight, one he knows he won’t ever tire of for as long as he lives, and Christ, Steve's so hot inside, hot and wet and tight, like heaven on earth and then some.
Grabbing Steve’s hips, Bucky pulls most of the way out again until just the bulbous head of his cock is still inside, Steve's rim stretched taut around it – and then he slams back in, all the way to the hilt in one long stroke.
Steve cries out, the tendons in his neck standing out as he throws his head back. “Ah, ahhh – Bucky.”
“That’s it,” Bucky grunts, loving the slight burn in his thighs as he picks up speed, snapping his hips and pounding into Steve. “Take it, doll. Yeah, that's it. There you go, take my cock.”
Distantly, Bucky can hear himself talking, running his mouth even more than usual, but he just can't seem to stop. He'd try to tone it down, but he's pretty sure it won't work – and besides, it doesn't look like Steve minds one bit.
Bucky fucks into Steve with intent, sinking into him with long, root-to-tip strokes that make Steve’s poor neglected dick slap wetly against his stomach. Steve's hands are gripping his own thighs hard enough to bruise, bitten-off curses falling from his wet, red mouth as he repeats Bucky’s name over and over, like a prayer.
And then, when Bucky angles up his next thrust, Steve loses his mind a little.
“Oh, sh- f-fuck,” Steve cries, thrashing, throwing out one hand to grab at the sheets below him. His back arches as he tries to shove himself down on Bucky’s cock. “Oh, feels so – feels so, fuck – yes… Oh, oh, Bucky.”
“Yeah,” Bucky grunts, rolling his hips and rutting into Steve for a long moment. Slow and deep, making sure to grind up on Steve's prostate mercilessly before resuming his punishing thrusts, doing his best to keep hitting the mark. “That's the spot, huh? You like that, sugar? Like how my cock feels inside a’you?”
Steve moans, drawn out and low, the sound coming from his toes.
“Ah, s’big,” he chokes out, “s-so deep, Buck- oh God.” His eyes roll back in his head, chest heaving and glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, his sweet little nipples peaked and standing at attention. With every thrust, Steve’s chest jiggles, and Bucky just can't help himself: he has to reach out and touch, he's just gotta .
“Fuck, baby,” he growls, squeezing a good handful of Steve's pecs. “Love your pretty tits. Look at them, bouncin’ for me. Just for me, huh?” He flicks Steve's nipple with his nail, and Steve mewls.
“Yeah?” Bucky grins, a little wildly. “You like me playing with your tits while you're gettin’ fucked, sweet thing?”
Steve is too far gone at this point to do anything but beg mindlessly, an endless stream of please and Bucky and harder, and it’s setting Bucky on fire, lighting him up, burning him up from the inside.
“Oh, you beg so pretty, sugar,” Bucky says. “Just needed a dick in you, that’s all, huh? Needed me to loosen you up a little, ain’t that right?”
When Steve cries out again, loud and uninhibited, Bucky reaches out to put a hand over Steve's mouth and clamps down hard. “Sshh, gotta keep it down, Stevie. Don't wanna wake up the neighbours, do you?”
Beneath his palm, Steve gasps, open-mouthed and desperate – just like Bucky knew he would.
“Ohh,” Bucky grins wolfishly. “Or maybe you do, huh? Yeah, I've got your number, darlin’. Acting all sweet and demure, but you'd love that, wouldn't you? You'd love it if they heard you, if they knew you were getting fucked so good just on the other side of these flimsy walls.” He laughs, low and rough. “Imagine if they could see you now. Good little Stevie Rogers, spreading his legs like some cheap floozy. Letting a man put his cock in him, begging for it.” He removes his hand from over Steve's mouth, only to push a couple of his fingers past his lips, pressing down on his tongue hard enough to make him gag a little. “Would you let anyone stick it in you, baby? One of the neighbors, some stranger you met at a bar? Or is it just me?”
“Just you,” Steve slurs around Bucky’s fingers, high on it. “Bucky, just you, just –”
“Oh, that's sweet. That's so sweet of you. My good little girl.”
Steve hitches another sob, because he loves it, he does – and it's ludicrous, of course, using those terms to describe a guy as big and buff as Steve, not to mention Captain America.
But they're not Captain America and the Winter Soldier tonight, that's for damn sure. Right now, they're just two kids from Brooklyn, reckless and in love, hungry for each other in a way no sex could ever hope to sate, but they're damn well going to try anyway. Right now, it's the easiest thing in the world for Bucky to say whatever depraved thing he can think of, and for Steve to soak it up, all the filth and the endearments, blossoming with it like a flower.
Bucky himself is teetering on the edge now too, so close he can practically taste it. The soft, slick sounds of his dick pushing into Steve's body over and over are slowly driving him out of his mind, adding fuel to the fire already burning low and hot in his gut. Fuck, but he wants to ruin Steve – break him open, swallow him whole, consume him so they'll turn into one new entity.
“Buck, B-Bucky,” Steve hiccups, completely gone for it, thick tears rolling down his cheeks. “I want, Bucky, oh, Bucky.”
“You want it?” Bucky pants wildly, taking hold of Steve’s chin and forcing Steve to look at him. “Want me to fill you up, that what you want? You gonna be good and take what I give you, Stevie?”
“Yes,” Steve cries. “Please, I'll be s-so good, please give –” He lets out an honest-to-god sob, sheer pent up desire and frustration bubbling over.
Bucky shushes him, wiping away the tears with the pad of his thumb. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. I know. I know, it’s alright, we're nearly there.”
Steve shakes his head, over and over, like he just can’t take it anymore, but Bucky just keeps going. He’s relentless about it, fucking Steve into the mattress while spewing whatever filth comes to mind.
“If you're real good for me,” Bucky goes on, bending down so his voice is a low rumble in Steve’s ear, “maybe next time I'll stick my tongue in you first, huh? Lick you open, nice and slow, get you all ready for my cock. Keep goin’ till you're sloppy with it, dripping wet, begging to get fucked. And when I finally give it to you, I won't go slow, and I'm not gonna be gentle either,” he promises. “I don't care if it hurts, I'm just gonna shove my cock so deep inside that tight little hole, fuck you so hard, you're gonna feel me for days.”
Steve whines, loud and desperate, shuddering and clenching hard around Bucky’s dick –
“Gonna give it up for me, Steve?” Bucky grits out. He slides his fingers into Steve's hair, grabs a handful of those silky strands and grips tightly. “Look at me,” he demands, forcing Steve to keep his tearful, lidded eyes on Bucky's, while he continues to shove into him roughly. “Gonna let me come in you, babydoll? Deep inside your needy little cunt? Fuck, Steve, fuck – ‘m gonna stuff you so full, make you mine –”
“Yours,” Steve gasps, practically wailing as he clenches around Bucky so hard Bucky swears he sees stars.
All at once, Steve’s cock jerks and shoots off between them, painting his stomach and chest with white spurts of come while he gulps in air, and that – Steve coming again, coming untouched on Bucky’s cock, that makes Bucky finally lose it, too.
He slams into Steve one, two, three more times, burying himself as deeply as he can. He shoots off inside of him, filling Steve up like he promised, claiming him and ruining him for anyone else.
For a while, Bucky forgets what planet he's on, forgets he's a hundred years old, forgets he’s the Winter Soldier, forgets everything he's done. All he knows is that he feels incredible, invincible, and Steve, Steve, Steve.
In the aftermath, while they’re both still reeling, covered in sweat and, in Steve’s case, a whole lot of spunk, Bucky gently pulls out. He eases Steve’s trembling legs back to the mattress, rubbing his thighs and kissing his palms, where Steve’s blunt nails have managed to leave impressive crevices. Steve soaks up the attention with closed eyes and a blissed-out expression on his face, happy to let himself be doted on for the moment.
Bucky fully intends to get up and grab a damp cloth to clean them up with, honest he does. But then he happens to catch sight of the situation between Steve’s legs, and he gets a little… sidetracked.
The sight of his come trickling out of Steve, his pretty hole glistening wet and swollen, nearly sets Bucky off again, his dick giving a valiant twitch. Mesmerized, Bucky slides his fingers through the mess, gathering some of it up before pressing his fingers into Steve again, attempting to push it back inside. He knows he's being a little bit caveman about it, but oh, how he wishes he could somehow trap a bit of himself inside of Steve forever.
When Bucky glances up at Steve’s face, he finds Steve staring back at him with his mouth slightly open.
“Jesus Christ, Buck,” Steve breathes. “That was…” He trails off, looking a little stunned, tear tracks still fresh on his flushed cheeks.
And then suddenly, he laughs, a bright and joyful sound that makes Bucky's heart thrum happily.
Bucky is helpless to do anything but laugh along with him; Steve’s joy has always been infectious. They giggle together for a minute or so, not at anything in particular except perhaps the general absurdity of the situation. Bucky feels light, safe and content, warmed down to his core. Cryo seems very far away right now, and it's all thanks to Steve.
God, he loves him.
Finally, Steve settles down, stretching lazily and folding one arm behind his head. He's gorgeous like this, sated and happy, almost majestic as he grins lazily back at Bucky. He raises an eyebrow.
“Wow. That whole innocent shtick really does it for you, huh, Buck?”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Bucky reaches up to pinch one of Steve's nipples, causing him to squeak. “Which one of us came twice just now, once in like two minutes and then again untouched, I might add?”
Rubbing his abused pec, Steve shrugs easily. “Fine, maybe I like it too. A little bit.” He barks out another laugh. “Christ, the way you ran your mouth, though. I'd forgotten how bad it could get. You had Sister Elise turning in her grave, that's for sure.”
It's Bucky's turn to give an unrepentant shrug. “You love it. Don’t even try to deny it, Rogers, I can read you like one of those blue comics you used to keep under your mattress. Besides, if you really didn't like it, you'd’a told me to shut up.”
“You got me there, Barnes,” Steve says with a cheeky grin. His eyes grow soft a moment later, teeth briefly biting down on his bottom lip. “Wasn’t sure you remembered that.”
Bucky hums, resting his head on Steve's thigh, almost purring when Steve starts to run his fingers through his hair. “Wasn’t sure if I was remembering it right at first, but I figured you’d have punched me in the face if it wasn’t something you were into.”
“I’m into everything when it’s with you, Buck,” Steve says simply. “You should know that by now.”
“Hm,” Bucky says, teasing, if only to disguise the way that statement makes it suddenly a little hard to breathe. “You’re easy like that, huh?’
“Just for you,” Steve says, smiling down at him dopily, evidently still a little high on endorphins. “Always for you.”
Once again, Bucky’s foolish heart soars, like a bald eagle over the Grand Canyon, free and wild. He swallows hard, pressing his lips to Steve’s bare skin.
“Let's get you cleaned up,” he murmurs, looking up at Steve with what he knows is blatant adoration.
Steve's full lips turn into a pout. “Don’t wanna get up yet. Can't we just cuddle for a while longer?”
Slowly, Bucky grins. “Who said anything about gettin’ up?” he queries, before grabbing Steve's hips and, without any warning whatsoever, unceremoniously flipping him over onto his stomach.
Steve squawks indignantly – though when Bucky's next movie is to bury his face in his ass, he stops complaining remarkably quickly.
***