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No Shoes, No Shirt (Still get Service)

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“Mmm, you look pretty, kitten,” Bucky told him.

Tony wasn’t entirely sure about that; he was mostly naked, and there was always something a little bit ridiculous, Tony thought, about male nudity. Well, except when it was Bucky’s male nudity, that was pretty damn beautiful.

Bucky had dressed Tony up in a series of leather bands, at his ankles, his mid-thighs, wrists, upper arms, waist, and a collar on his throat. Each band had number of rings attached, and Bucky had a damn bucket full of double-ended snap hooks. Bucky’s intention, apparently, was to turn Tony into a pretzel.

Which could be fun.

He shivered, a little, under the heat of Bucky’s gaze. Bucky was, of course, entirely dressed. Which made Tony feel just a little more naked than usual. Vulnerable in a way that was making him shake from the bones outward, a touch of apprehension and quite a lot of longing.

Bucky usually made Tony work for it, whenever he got out the bondage gear, delighting in making Tony wait. Slow down. Edged Tony until he was sobbing for it before letting him tip over into relief.

“You know your safe words, baby?”

Tony refrained from rolling his eyes, gave his words, accompanied by gestures in case he couldn’t talk -- or had his mouth full -- and Bucky smiled, pleased.

“Good. Thank you.” Bucky stroked Tony’s shoulder, down his arm. Played with one of the D-rings on his wrist restraint. “Hop up on the bed, hands and knees for me.”

Tony did as he was told, letting his ass wiggle a bit as he got settled, knowing that Bucky would be watching. Bucky teased a hand over Tony’s ass, audibly appreciating the curve of it, tracing circles around each cheek, then letting his fingers slide along Tony’s crack until Tony was writhing and pushing back into the touch eagerly.

“Are we in a hurry, today?” Bucky asked.

That was a dangerous question. Bucky’s idea of punishment was often to slow down, even further, until Tony was going to go mad from wanting. “Just like it when you touch me,” Tony said, and that wasn’t even a lie, because he did. Just because Tony wanted to jump from good to best in a matter of minutes…

“Don’t worry,” Bucky said. “I’ll touch you.” But he wasn’t swayed any longer from his purpose. A handful of the double ended latches were dropped onto the bed; they were metal and cold against Tony’s bare knee. With a few efficient movements, Bucky latched Tony’s wrists to the outside of his ankles, knees still bent, his ass pushed high into the air, totally on display. Tony had to roll onto one shoulder to support himself, head tipped to one side to breathe.

Bucky pushed Tony’s legs apart a little, then reached between them to tug lightly on Tony’s dick, a few soft jerks that had Tony sighing with satisfaction. Once he was fully hard, Bucky stroked both hands down Tony’s ass, along his thighs, down his calves. Light over the back of Tony’s heels, then even lighter, across the soles of Tony’s feet.

Tony couldn’t help it, a startled inhale and a squeak. He was pretty sensitive on his feet -- ticklish -- but the touch also went straight to his groin with a jolt. “Oh, god,” he muttered. Bucky didn’t often play with Tony’s feet; they’d had a whole thing where Bucky figured out how much Tony liked it, but it had only been incorporated into their sex lives as a special thing, for Tony. And Tony didn’t like to push, because it made him feel weird and uncomfortable to ask for something, sexually, that was obviously of very little interest to his partner.

It was fine, Tony told himself, and he let himself enjoy it to the fullest whenever Bucky decided to pull that trick out of the box. Savoured and stored those touches away in his memory; dragged them out to examine each one closely, when they were apart.

Bucky’s fingers wandered over his foot, that touch just on the verge of being too light to bear, enough to keep Tony wriggling and gasping and whining.

It was too long, those touches getting Tony wound up, and up, and up unbearably, and then not long enough, when Bucky stopped stroking Tony’s soles. Tony couldn’t quite stop a whimper of dismay.

“Oh, hush,” Bucky scolded, smacking his ass once, lightly, enough to make his cheeks jiggle. Bucky shifted on the bed, dug around in his basket of supplies, and pulled out a bottle of lube. Dribbled some down Tony’s crack and started, slowly, working it over Tony’s hole. Not a whole lot of subtle or slow going on there, either, and Tony was rocking into the touch in minutes, begging for more and getting it, which should have been a warning.

Bucky worked him open, careful, but efficient, and he was up to three fingers and lightly brushing over Tony’s prostate with a crooked finger, working groans and swears out of Tony’s throat with ease.

Then Bucky pulled back, kept a thumb in Tony to hold him open, teasing at Tony’s rim.

Tony wasn’t quite disappointed, but was Bucky going to fuck him now, with so little foreplay? Not that Tony would mind, really, and Bucky had a virtually non-existent refractory period, so maybe they’d go a few rounds, and--

The silicone plug wasn’t quite cold, but it was decidedly cooler than Bucky’s fingers had been, and Tony jumped again.

The plug was just wider than one of Bucky’s fingers at the end, but flared at the base. With ridges that pushed against Tony’s hole as Bucky worked it in. The stretch was… incredible; Tony wasn’t sure he’d ever felt quite that full before. It burned, and Tony would whine or moan, and Bucky slowed until Tony was adjusted, then give him another inch.

By the time it was fully seated, Tony was gasping for breath, slick with sweat, and shaking.

“There you are, baby,” Bucky purred. “So pretty, wantin’ it so bad.” He tapped on the base of the plug, nudging it a little deeper and Tony made a rough, harsh noise of agreement. The way Tony was bound, he couldn’t rub against anything, the lack of stimulation against his dick was torture; he needed friction, needed to thrust and roll his hips and--

Bucky clicked one of the latches, freeing Tony’s wrist for just a moment, and then reattached it to the one by his thigh. A moment later, he repeated that on the other side. Tony’s hands were pinned to his sides, but just a few seconds, that was great, because he was laying flat on his belly and he could get some relief by stropping against the blankets.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Bucky told him. Bucky rolled him over, exposing him to the air, keeping him from that delicious pressure.

“Oh, god, you’re meaaaaaaan,” Tony whined, which Bucky decided to take as a challenge, because he chuckled wickedly and licked a stripe right up Tony’s aching cock. Tony gasped, thrust up against that evil tongue, but Bucky only pulled away.

“You don’t even know the half of it, baby,” Bucky said. He shifted Tony around a bit until he was laying about halfway down the bed -- each movement jostling the plug inside him -- and bent Tony’s knees a little bit. He reached down and brought up a--

“Holy shit, are those stocks?”

Bucky didn’t bother to answer, and Tony struggled to get himself into a sitting position to look. It wasn’t easy, with the plug inside him, and each shift changed the pressure of it until he was all but punishing himself trying to get a good look. Bucky locked each ankle into place, clamped down the locks on the stocks and then pinned the whole contraption into place at the end of the bed, keeping Tony’s legs spread, his feet on display and desperately vulnerable.

“On, and one more thing,” Bucky said, as if he and Tony were having a conversation. He pulled a small rectangle out of his pocket, pointed it at Tony and pushed a button.

The plug inside him thudded; one deep-set, half-second vibration.

“Oh, fuck,” Tony whined, falling back onto the bed. His hands opened and closed helplessly against his thighs and his dick jumped and pulsed.

“Mmmmhmmm,” was all Bucky had to say about that. He tugged a chair up to the end of the bed and sat down, Tony’s feet practically in his lap.

Ran one finger down the middle of Tony’s foot.

“Oh, god,” Tony managed.

The vibrator pulsed again. Tony jerked again, twisting his hips, his hands reaching, but he couldn’t do… anything. His dick bounced against his belly with the movement.

Bucky ran his hand down Tony’s foot, gave his heel a squeeze, drew his fingers lightly back up Tony’s arch.

The vibrator buzzed again.

It wasn’t random. Tony tried desperately to count between the activations; a task made harder by Bucky stroking, squeezing, and rubbing at one foot or the other where Tony couldn’t see. The stocks kept him from seeing anything beyond the red, padded leather, aside from the top of Bucky’s head.

Forty. Forty seconds between one buzz and the next.

Bucky disappeared completely, and Tony whimpered, writhing. Heard a splash of water, and then… something warm and wet was dragged over Tony’s foot. A washcloth, maybe? The material was just on the side of rough, and Tony caught a whiff of soap. And then he lost himself, moaning and arching up as the dan vibrator caught him unaware again.

Bucky was washing his feet. Slowly. Rubbing the cloth between his toes, scrubbing over the ball of his foot, along the arch, circled around the back of his heel. Tony groaned; god, it felt good, and he stretched his feet, pulling his toes back and spreading them.

And couldn’t keep his foot like that with the damn vibe going off, which made him ache in all the best ways, his toes curling up.

Tony completely lost track of time as Bucky pampered each foot, slowly. Excessively. Tony’s feet probably hadn’t been that clean… ever. Bucky dried them off and then rubbed in a fragrant oil that smelled of mint.

Oh, god, every time he tried to relax into it -- Bucky was rubbing his feet, working that metal thumb into the sore spots in the arch -- that damn vibrator buzzed in him. His dick ached, utterly neglected, throbbing and leaking. There was a slick puddle of precome on Tony’s belly, sliding down one side of his hip, and he couldn’t care, because, oh, fuck, Bucky was licking his big toe, still working his thumbs into Tony’s arch.

“Oh, oh, oh.” Tony was whining, shifting with every moment. Unconsciously, he kept trying to pull his foot back, too much, between Bucky’s expert, tantalizing touch, and each tug against the stocks moved the plug, Tony was in constant, frustrated motion. “God, baby, I can’t, I can’t…”

Bucky kept his hand on Tony’s ankle, popped up to look over the edge of the stocks. “You okay, baby?”

“Yeah?” It was more of a question than Tony wanted it to be, he didn’t want Bucky to stop, precisely, but oh, god, it was so damn frustrating. “Need… oh, god, honey, I…”

“You’re okay,” Bucky said, decisively.

“Yea-” Tony choked off a sudden cry as the vibe hit him again, wild and impatient. “Oh, god, Bucky, please, I…”

“You want to stop, baby, you got words for that,” Bucky reminded him.

Tony didn’t want it to stop, stop wasn’t even on the fucking list. More, faster, now. Those were on the list. But not stop. He just… oh christ, he couldn’t think with that damn vibe doing its thing without a care in the world, and Bucky was just watching him wriggle like a worm on a hook, eyebrow raised, waiting to see if Tony would code out, but not doing a damn thing.

Like not turning that fucking vibe off.

Or up.

Something. “Please, please, please,” Tony tried begging. Sometimes that got him what he wanted, sometimes. Not often, because Bucky got some perverse sort of satisfaction from listening to Tony pleading for it.

“Please, yes? Please, no?” Bucky was doing it on purpose, the utter asshole, faking solicitousness when he was really just being a dick.

“Please, more,” Tony whined, twisting again against the bondage. It was like a strained muscle, like if he could just stretch to the right angle, he’d get more. More pressure where he needed it, more sensation, more… just more, damnit.

“Hmmm,” Bucky said, thoughtfully. “I don’t think so.”

And he disappeared behind the stocks again. Tony was ready to scream with frustration when Bucky’s tongue was back. Licking at each toe, squirming deliciously in between Tony’s toes, a delicate bite that scraped along the heel.

Tony was lost, lost in a dark need that grew and grew. Bucky’s fingers and mouth were teasing him in ways he’d never felt before, the throbbing ache in his ass, the frictionless frustration around his dick.

Bucky dragged his fingers down Tony’s soles again, raking them with his nails, and Tony moaned, wanton. He didn’t realize at first, but the vibrations spend up, and then Bucky was standing, and oh, fuck, rubbing his cock against the sole of Tony’s foot, soft velvet skin wrapped around wood, and god, that was hot, so fucking hot.

He was begging again, “...more, please more, Bucky, I need…” and Bucky was giving him more, and less at the same time, but Tony was…

Oh god. Bucky flicked the remote again and the vibe was a constant, pulsing pressure inside him, tapping and buzzing against his prostate continually until Tony didn’t think he could breathe with how damn good it felt.

He shuddered.

Like being jerked up a rollercoaster hill, each stroke against his sensitive arch, the way his toes couldn’t help but curl. There was heat and there was need, and there was a great, white light on the edge of his vision.

Every nerve in his body was on fire, every muscle clenched and trembled and--

There was nowhere to go. He could still barely move. Nothing to do but endure pleasure so great it was almost agony. Brilliant and beautiful and--

Tony was screaming with it, breath forced out of his lungs until he was only making soft, pitiful sounds.

Like an orgasm, but not… quite. Or more than, maybe, Tony couldn’t tell. His dick jerked, twitched, and there was fire and shivering, aching gratification. But at the same time, he knew what coming felt like, and that wasn’t it. There was no overstimulation, no urge to curl up and sleep. He was still hard as a fucking rock, and there was no dip in his need, in his desire.

His eyes flew open to see Bucky staring at him with something like amazement.

Jesus,” Tony managed, and then he was crying out again, another burst of pleasure, like a rocket going off at the back of his skull. He didn’t know what was happening, but dear fucking christ, he didn’t want it to stop. Every time he thought his body might settle, Bucky pushed his thumbs into Tony’s arches, and off he went again.  

Tony was coming, but he somehow wasn’t at the same time. Some pinnacle beyond orgasm, jolting, holistic pleasure sparkled through him.

He was sobbing with it, every barrier and wall inside him torn open. Everything was exposed, laid bare for Bucky to see.   

“Shhh.” Bucky was there, suddenly. He didn’t know when Bucky had unclipped the restraints, but Tony was curled against Bucky’s chest, rutting desperately against Bucky’s thigh, moaning, crying. “I got you, baby, I know, I got you.”

Bucky hand was on him, very light, and even that touch was almost too much, Tony was going to go off again and he didn’t know if he could take it, but he didn’t think there was anything he could do about it, either. He needed it; needed. Beyond need, beyond ecstasy.

The fall was strangely gentle, washing over him like waves of warm water, soft and easy. The perfect finish, heat draining out of him like someone pulled a plug, leaving him both empty and filled at the same time.

Every cell in his body was burned up in the flame, reformed, rebuilt. When he opened his eyes at last, to see Bucky still looking at him with wonder, Tony thought he was seeing the sun for the very first time. Bucky was so incredibly bright, so glorious as to be unreal.

“What--” Tony could barely move, lethargic and utterly content and absolutely drained.

“Uh,” Bucky said, huffing out a laugh, “I think you had a couple of dry orgasms. I had to turn the vibe off, I thought you were going to have a heart attack.”

“Mmmm,” Tony mumbled, “didn’t feel like dying.” Except in all the ways it had. Little death, his perfectly round ass. More like medium death. Only nicer. “There’s kinda a wet spot here.”

Bucky laughed again, delighted. Tony might have said, done, anything, to keep Bucky laughing like that. “You don’t even remember. My god, Tony,” he said. “I never seen anything like that, before. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Tony cuddled closer, not minding the wet spot, not minding anything. Just wanting Bucky’s arms around him, the warmth of his breath against Tony’s cheek. “Out of body, back in five minutes,” he said, sleepily.

“Yeah, you go on and sleep, baby,” Bucky said. “Love you, so much.”

There was something he was supposed to tell Bucky; how much Tony loved him, how much he needed Bucky, how perfect and desirable and amazing Bucky was… but Tony couldn’t seem to remember the words for it.

Oh well. He’d tell Bucky in the morning.

And every other morning.

For the rest of their lives.