Work Text:
“The whole hand?” Bucky asks, bewildered, making sure he’s hearing this right. Beneath him, two of Bucky’s fingers deep in his ass, Steve squirms and avoids eye contact, red from the apples of his cheeks all the way down to his flushed tits. Bucky's mouth waters, the sight alone almost making him forget what Steve’s just said. Almost.
They were getting to the good part—the best part, in Bucky’s Goddamn opinion, where Steve got just ready enough to take him while still being deliciously tight, when Steve moaned, half mumbled with his chin to his chest: “Wonder if I can take your whole hand.”
At that point, Bucky’s mind short circuited a little, because What? and also Damn that sounds hot as hell. were bouncing around in his head warring with each other with no clear winner, and now they’re here, very much not having sex on their precious mutual day off—which has gotta be the biggest sin of ‘em all.
Bucky leans back, leaving just the pads of his fingers loosely penetrating Steve’s hole as he frowns, giving Steve a look. Steve, of course, immediately tries to wriggle back down onto them, the little shit, so Bucky completely removes his hand and instead hoists Steve’s hips up, bringing them flush together—his clothed cock against Steve’s shiny red pucker.
“Talk to me, Rogers,” Bucky says as Steve’s legs bracket his waist, closing even the tiniest of gaps between them. “Where’s this come from? You saying my dick not enough to satisfy your Catholic girl needs, baby?”
Steve, predictably, huffs, embarrassed grimace tugging at the ends of his lips. “Shaddup. Was just a random thought. Slipped through. We can continue.”
He nudges Bucky’s back with his heels insistently in a Get on with it manner, pouting when Bucky doesn’t move an inch. Bucky just raises an eyebrow, unimpressed even as his cock enthusiastically pokes through the top of his boxers. He’s on a mission and he won’t be distracted, no matter how nice Steve looks or acts.
“Uh-huh, random thought my ass. Were you just gonna spring that on me sometime in the future, or were you specifically waiting for a moment where you thought you’d get away with it?”
Caught, Steve lets his head thump onto the plush mattress, sighing through his teeth. “We really gonna do this now?” he asks, petulant.
“Nah, we can even do it over a cup of coffee, bring a whiteboard and a graph, the whole nine yards, if that’s what you’d like.” Bucky massages Steve’s thighs offhandedly, admiring the way the muscles flex as he continues: “But see, I’d doubt you’d be as honest as you are when we’re both naked like this, with nowhere to hide. Am I wrong, Stevie?”
He punctuates the childhood nickname with a slow roll of his hips forward, causing Steve to hiss, limbs involuntarily spasming at the same time his cock jumps. “Jerk,” Steve mutters.
“What’s that? Can’t hear you from that high horse you’re up on,” Bucky drawls. “Gonna have to get off that thing, baby.”
Steve leans up, balancing himself on his elbows as he glares daggers at Bucky while saying: “I’m always honest.”
“And a lie of omission’s still a lie in the eyes of the Almighty, hm?” Steve’s actually getting worked up about this, which means he’s finally gonna spit out what’s been on his mind, or completely shut down, depending on how much Bucky pushes.
“The hell’s your problem?” Steve snaps, “What, I gotta tell you every thought that passes through my head? You ain’t my fucking pastor, Buck.”
“Well, I sure the hell hope not. Father Walter hasn’t been fucking you for the better part of our lives now, has he?” Bucky asks, blinking his eyes wide in faux concern.
Steve blinks back at him, mouth agape. Then he snorts, once, twice, which quickly transforms into one of his full-belly laughs, deep voice going high as he wheezes: “Je-Jesus—”
“Lord’s name in vain,” Bucky quips, grinning. “Really, Rogers, a man’d think you weren’t raised right.”
“Oh my God,” Steve groans, falling down onto the bed and putting his head in his hands, unable to smother his grin as he shakes from mirth. “Just for that, I’m not speaking a Goddamn word to you.”
“Aww, c’mon,” Bucky whines, following Steve to lean over him, balancing himself with his metal hand near Steve’s face. “Don’t be like that, sweetheart, I promise I’ll take real good care of you. Gimme a chance.”
He puckers his lips in expectation, closing his eyes, and Bucky hears Steve deliberate for a moment then groan in defeat just before he meets him halfway in an unnecessarily loud, smacking kiss, the type you’d see in cartoons nowadays.
“See?” Bucky says into the small space between their mouths while they’re both smiling. “Treatin’ you right. I’m a real gentleman like that.”
“Uh-huh, sure you are.” Bucky can’t see Steve’s eyeroll from how close they are, but he knows him well enough to practically hear it.
“Now,” Bucky says as he moves back just far enough to be able to see Steve, tone of voice deliberately casual. “You want my entire hand up your ass?”
“Ugh,” Steve says, immediately going red, “you’re awful. Just awful, Buck.”
“That ain’t a no, far as I’m hearing.” Bucky gives Steve’s rear a pinch with his flesh hand, making him jump and glare at Bucky. But then Steve forcefully sighs as he squares up his shoulders the same way he does when preparing for a fight, jaw set.
“I want,” Steve begins, red as a tomato but with his eyes narrowed into slits, holding eye contact as Bucky licks his lips, turned on by making Steve say it out loud, “you to put your whole hand inside me.”
Shit.
“The metal one.”
“Fuck,” Bucky curses, all the blood rushing south at Steve’s admission and the challenging look in his baby blues, spitfire through and through. Because Bucky’s a man of action, and opportunity, he asks: “How we supposed to do this, then? You looked this stuff up, got some sorta plan?”
Steve’s confident but guilty nod is enough to make Bucky swear again, mind spinning at the thought of Steve looking through porn sites and getting all hot and bothered at the thought of Bucky’s hand inside him—the metal one, Jesus Christ.
“Alright,” Bucky manages, his voice like gravel, so he clears his throat and repeats: “Alright, show me what you’ve got, baby.”
They end up like this: Steve on all fours with his ass up in the air while Bucky’s kneeling behind him, one hand spreading apart his cheeks while the other holds a bottle of lube from their bedside drawer.
“Just um—” Steve says, voice somewhat muffled from where he’s got his face pressed up against the sheets “—go a bit slow at first, ‘kay? Don’t wanna have to clean blood from the metal.”
“Oh, don’t you worry about a thing, sweetheart,” Bucky says, squeezing Steve’s cheek while smirking. "Your hole and me are old friends at this point, I know how to keep it nice and happy.”
“Ugh, that was awful even for you—” Steve’s voice gets caught once Bucky licks a long stripe from the back of his balls all the way up to the top of his spine, his breath stuttering. Shut you up real fast, Bucky thinks, smirk widening.
“Jerk,” Steve mumbles, probably guessing at his thoughts. With how long they’ve known each other, mind reading might not be that far off the table.
“Mm,” Bucky hums noncommittally, letting go of Steve’s ass to instead pour a generous amount of lube onto the fingers of his metal hand, coating them fully. It’ll be a bitch and a half to get it clean after, but Bucky doesn’t mind so much. He considers it a part of regular maintenance, like disassembling and reassembling his guns and making sure his knives stay sharp—he likes the routine of it all.
He also likes the way his fingers look buried deep inside Steve, the thin skin of his hole stretched out obscenely around the metal joints. Bucky scissors them back and forth, focusing on relaxing the muscle more than actually bringing pleasure, but Steve still lets out breathy little moans every once in a while, like he just can’t help himself.
Bucky, of course, stays far from quiet.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, adding in a third finger, crooking his hand so his palm’s turned upwards, just barely grazing Steve’s prostate. “Filthy little Stevie. How long have you been dreamin’ of this, hm? Hoping that one day you’ll get a whole fist inside your ass, keeping you nice and full, barely able to take it?”
Steve whines, squirming, burying his face deeper into the mattress like that’ll hide the full body flush he’s sporting.
“A dick’s just not enough for you,” Bucky tuts, pumping the digits in and out in a punishing rhythm, causing Steve to arch his back in a perfect curve. “Greedy little thing.”
“Ah, ah, Bucky…” Steve chants, moving his hips back to meet Bucky’s fingers that have only picked up in speed, going faster and faster.
“What is it, sweetheart?” Bucky croons, a little mean. “You want more, ‘s that it? You need my entire hand inside you? Want me up to the elbow, baby? Need me to fuck you stupid?” He adds a fourth finger, now truly fucking Steve with the force of his thrusts, the lube squirting and running down Steve’s ass while Bucky reaches down to cup his own aching cock with the flesh hand, having gotten rid of the boxers in the downtime.
“Want—wanna—ha-aah—” Steve babbles, incoherent, and Bucky’s pumping himself to the rhythm of Steve’s moans, gritting his teeth in order to not finish too early, ‘cause God damn.
“Yeah, ‘course you do, big guy. I’m gonna give it to you so good—hah, hear me, Stevie? Gonna fuck you all loose with my hand, then when you’re unable to even so much as twitch a muscle I’m gonna come inside you, make a real big mess—”
Steve’s cock jerks at that, his voice getting dangerously high as he yells: “Bucky!”
Bucky immediately pulls out at that, leaving Steve hanging, sticky left hand holding him steady as he shakes and heaves, orgasm denied—both of them denied as Bucky grips the root of his dick, swearing.
“Whuh?” Steve wheezes in confusion, sweating all over, his hole clenching down around nothing. “Buck?”
“Be good for me, baby,” Bucky murmurs, somewhat absently as he puts his metal hand in the proper position, lining it up with Steve’s entrance. He wants to do this proper, wants Steve to come on his entire hand, so he’s razor sharp focused, thinking about the video Steve showed him and how the guy does it, though the poses are a bit different.
“…stop,” Steve says just as Bucky’s about to penetrate him, and Bucky freezes, immediately removing his hand and lifting himself up to try and see Steve’s face, which is red and hazy but has a determined tilt to his mouth.
“Stevie?” he asks, on alert, but Steve shakes his head a little, nuzzling against the sheets as he beckons Bucky with one hand.
“Wanna do it—on the side. Like the dame in the—” he stammers, tongue tied. Steve gulps, managing: “Want you to do that—what you said. Come—inside me. After.”
Bucky’s brain parses through what Steve’s said, chewing on it, and he grins, partly in relief that he’s not hurt Steve, thank God, but mostly he’s giddy that Steve seems to be so into this, the harlot.
“You, sweetheart,” Bucky says, flipping Steve over so he can get up real close to him, their breaths intermingling, “are a Goddamn miracle, Jesus Christ.”
“Mmh—” Steve says in answer as their mouths meet, hot, heavy, deliciously slick. “C’mon, c’mon,” his baby says, hitting Bucky in the chest to get his attention when they kiss for a bit too long: “’M so close, Buck, hurry.”
“Well somebody’s impatient,” Bucky jokes, but gets back to business, going behind Steve and lifting his leg up for better access. The lube got lost somewhere in the process, but Steve’s plenty wet enough that Bucky isn’t worried he’s gonna hurt him.
“Easy now,” Bucky murmurs as he once again lines his metal hand up with Steve’s hole—the tips of his fingers and thumb touching each other in a beak shape, sinking into Steve with the barest amount of resistance.
“Hnkg,” Steve says, one hand holding himself stretched open, the other on top of Bucky’s, which is cradling one of Steve’s pec, cupping and squeezing it in time with Steve’s rapid heartbeat.
“Easy, easy,” Bucky keeps saying as Steve takes his hand further and further in, finally bottoming out with a cry, Bucky’s wrist barely visible.
“Holy shit,” Bucky whispers, neck craned to get a better look at the way Steve is clenching down on him, his sensors letting him know about the tight, wet heat currently enveloping and squeezing all his joints. This is the hottest thing on planet motherfucking Earth, thinks Bucky in awe.
“Mfhfghf—” Steve says, moving his hips in an attempt to get Bucky to move, snapping Bucky back to reality. He starts to pump Steve, pistoning his hand back and forth quickly, making Steve’s cock bounce with the force of it.
“Must be so full,” Bucky murmurs, watching Steve’s dazed expression, his blue eyes gone, gone, completely out of it. “Feels good, Stevie?” he asks, mostly to see if Steve can even reply in this state.
“Ah, hah, mnh—nghmg—” That’s a no, then. Instead, Bucky peppers kisses everywhere he can reach—Steve’s neck, the freckles on his shoulders and nape, mapping out the path of his moles like a well-traveled sailor making his way back home.
Bucky can tell Steve’s close, so he picks up the pace even more, pressing sweet nothing into Steve’s skin, saying: “Baby, sweetheart, Stevie, Stevie, darlin’, Steve—”
That does it. Steve bends all the way back as he comes, spine taut, a loud a-a-aah spilling from his mouth as he shakes, trembling apart. Bucky holds him through the aftershocks, keeping his hand inside to feel the spasms, metal arm purring.
“That’s it, baby, that’s just it,” he says, nosing Steve’s neck, licking the pool of sweat that’s gathered there.
It takes a moment but Steve gets back to himself gradually, his breathing slowing down to a less elevated pace. His first words are both endearing and accusatory: “You didn’t come.”
Bucky snorts, says: “Yeah, well, you seemed a bit occupied down there. Seemed rude to just barge in.”
Steve doesn’t even gratify him with a response, just tugs on Bucky’s metal hand until it obligingly exits Steve’s hole with a loud pop, lube still sticking to the joints, causing Steve to full-body shiver. Then, still determined, Steve’s hand travels down Bucky’s navel until it reaches his rock-hard cock, making Bucky moan at the contact.
“C’mon,” Steve mutters, guiding Bucky inside him, a dirty smile on his face. “Thought you’d make a real mess outta me.”
“Jesus Christ, Stevie,” Bucky breathes, struggling to look away from that filthy look, needy and bossy in equal measure.
Bucky actually throws his head back once he’s inside Steve—almost coming just at the delicious heat of him, nowhere near as tight as he usually is but something about the way he’s so open from Bucky’s hand, so fucking sloppy from the amount of lube still inside him—it drives Bucky crazy.
“Mhm, move, Buck, mo—ah,” Steve yelps once Bucky starts thrusting like a dog in rut, holding onto Steve with both arms in an embrace as the slap, slap, slap of their colliding bodies fills the bedroom alongside their rising voices.
“Steve—Stevie, baby, God—” Bucky chants, out of his God damned mind, snapping his hips back into Steve again and again, the need inside him building, building until it reaches its peak, and Bucky yells as he comes, hips stuttering, his mind gone static—completely blank.
He’s vaguely aware of the hot spurt of come that paints Steve’s insides, and the fact that Steve himself came again, Jesus H. Christ, completely untouched, but it’s all pleasantly hazy and far away.
They’re both liquid, having melted into each other, skin to skin to skin. Bucky’s pretty sure Steve’s started snoring, but he can’t even make fun of him considering just how God damned satisfied Bucky is, deep to his bones, having his whole world sleeping away in his embrace.
“You know Rogers, I gotta give it to ya,” Bucky mumbles, barely coherent as a yawn overtakes him. “You really do have some great plans.”
Steve probably makes some sort of smug hum, but Bucky’s gone off to sleep long before he can hear it, having matched his heartbeat to Steve’s.