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A Better Love Deserving Of

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              Steve is fucking beautiful laid out like this, all hot eyes and kiss swollen lips. God's gift to man, the pinnacle of human perfection and Bucky gets to have him.  


              He's sweating, hands fisted in the sheets like he's going to drift away if he doesn't hold on and damn if Bucky doesn't feel a twinge of pride that he's the one that gets to take Steve apart piece by piece. 


              Steve moans his name; Bucky shivers. It's full of adoration and care and a thousand other things Bucky never did anything to deserve. 


              "Shh..." Bucky murmurs, looking up from where he's laying, head between Steve's legs. Steve smiles down at him, dopey and happy. Good.


              "Gonna make you feel so good..." Bucky murmurs. It's a promise, to himself and Steve, as he works his mouth up and down Steve's dick, one hand wrapped around what he can't fit in his mouth, the other further down, rubbing his balls. 


              Steve radiates strength, muscles tightening under his flawless skin. Bucky crams Steve's dick in as far as it will go, forcing past the instinctual resistance of his throat, shoving in further until his nose is buried in the coarse thatch of hair at the base of Steve's cock. He squeezes his eyes shut, focuses on swallowing, on clenching his throat around the thick member there and is rewarded with the feeling of Steve's thighs flexing powerfully underneath Bucky's fingertips. 


              Bucky stays down, just working his throat, reaching one hand up to play with Steve’s nipple. He can feel the rumble of Steve's groan, deep in his chest. Bucky pulls away to gasp in some air, and is reminded again of how lucky he is to be the one here, with Steve, when Steve could have had anyone else he wanted with just a sideways glance. 


              He gulps a few shuddering breaths, letting strings of drool hang between his lips and Steve’s dick while he breathes. Steve’s got one huge hand resting in Bucky’s hair, massaging his scalp lightly and Bucky allows himself to revel in the touch, but only for a second. This isn’t about his own pleasure; it’s about Steve’s. He takes a deep breath then moves back down, setting a brutal pace.


              Steve would never admit to liking things hard and rough and fast, but Bucky doesn't need to ask to know this feels good for him. Bucky fucks his mouth on Steve's cock like his life depends on it. He’s messy and he's drooling everywhere, gagging every time Steve's dick pushes into his throat with slurping clicks. Black spots dance at the edge of his vision from lack of air but it doesn't matter because he knows Steve is so close…


              Bucky pulls off until just the head of Steve's dick is in his mouth and flicks his tongue against the underside, sucking. That's all it takes for Steve to come into his mouth with a moan.


              Bucky swallows it all and licks up what spills out of his mouth on Steve’s thighs. He's still panting with exertion when he finishes running his lips gently up and down, pressing small kisses where he’s done cleaning. 


              Steve looks blissed out, eyes closed and hair mussed and wet. The moonlight seeping in from the window reflects off the sweat on his body so he looks like he's gleaming, like an angel. The serum fixed all his old scars and will fix all his new ones. 


              Bucky waits till his breathing has petered out a little more. Steve reaches out blindly, reaching for Bucky, who pats his stomach lightly before getting to his feet. He leaves Steve there on the bed while he goes to the bathroom to grab a towel. Hanging on the outside of the cupboard door is a full length mirror, which Bucky adamantly avoids looking in to. 


              He doesn't need to look to see how ravaged his body is. A thousand jagged scars snake their way up and down every inch of his torso, leaner than Steve's and uglier by leagues. It's disgusting, the uneven lumps of scar tissue littering his skin in thick ropes and ragged lines. Especially where the metal arm attaches to his left shoulder, where it's marred and twisted. It’s repulsive, the skin around it darkened and rough.

  Bucky stares. The rest of him doesn't look any better. He looks older than Steve, the effects of being fucked around through time showing itself in the lines if his face. The fake serum has minimal effects in clearing away old wounds. Bucky's body is a roadmap of violence and war and next to Steve's, it looks damaged. Broken.




              Bucky hates it when Steve kisses his scars. Steve deserves better than to be tainted with the ghosts of Bucky's sins. 


              He exits the bathroom quickly after grabbing the towels. Steve is still stretched out on the bed albeit with his eyes open now, staring at Bucky with fondness. 


              "C'mere," Steve says, voice husky with arousal. Bucky complies, crawling up the strong length of Steve's body so he can seal their lips together. 


              Steve's kisses are gentle, sweet. They taste like forgiveness, maybe. Love maybe. Bucky pulls away before he can let himself enjoy it too much, but the soft feel of Steve's lips send tingles of pleasure up his spine. 


              There's a crease between Steve's eyebrows, the ones he gets when he's bothered about something. He opens his mouth like he's about to speak but Bucky puts a finger over his lips before he can with a wink. 


              "We're not done here, soldier," Bucky says, looking down. Few rumors out there about the serum are true, but the stamina part is. Steve is half hard already, Bucky knows from experience. He’s got Steve's body memorized better than his own. 


              Steve grins. "Good. Wouldn't be fair of me to leave you swingin’ in the breeze," Steve says, staring pointedly at Bucky's crotch where his cock is hanging, neglected. Bucky waves a hand. 


              "Don't worry about it," Bucky says, rolling over on the mattress so he can dig a hand into the nightstand by their bed. He pulls out a tube of lube and a strip of condoms, ripping one off and tossing it on top of Steve's stomach. He takes the tube for himself and squirts some onto his fingers, sticking them unceremoniously inside himself. 


              It stings and the burn is too much and too intense. Bucky clenches his jaw and pushes past the pain, already worked four fingers deep into himself when Steve sits up with a concerned look and a "Whoa, hold on-" 


              Bucky works faster, schools his face into a twist of pleasure, rubbing his fingers against his prostate to ease the ache. Every bolt of pleasure is matched evenly with the shame of knowing he deserves none of it. He finishes preparing himself without finesse, biting the inside of his cheek the entire time.  


              "Put the condom on," Bucky moans breathily at Steve, because he looks like he's about to say something, but the trick doesn’t work – Steve hesitates, so Bucky takes the condom and fumbles to tear the foil in haste, rolling it onto Steve’s dick quickly. 


              This has happened before but Bucky is good at this, now. He knows what makes Steve tick. Knows how to say the right things, do the right things to drive Steve crazy. Bucky moves until he's straddling Steve's lap, grabbing his cock at the base and sinking down on it with little grace. There isn't enough lube on the condom or inside of him, and he doesn't want the condom to break so he grabs the tube and squeezes another drop on Steve's dick, slicking it up and down the length once before moving to push it back inside him.


              "Bucky wait, hold on, are you sure-"


              "Shut up Steve, I'm fine, I can do this," Bucky growls, because if Steve is still coherent enough to ask about him, then Bucky’s not doing his job.


              Steve feels fucking huge when Bucky finally gets him all the way in. Bucky revels in the punishing burn of it, of being stretched and fucked open, raw. Steve could hurt him, if he wanted to. Steve could hold him in place and fuck up into his body and Bucky wouldn't be able to do anything except take it – the thought sends shivers up his spine, but he knows that Steve wouldn’t, because Steve is good to him.


              Steve settles a hand on the small of Bucky's back when his ass is flush against Steve’s hips, supporting, but Bucky wriggles it off. Steve's got that concerned look again, dammit, this is not the way it’s supposed to go. Steve is supposed to be enjoying this.


              Bucky moves then, refusing to give himself time to adjust. His body can fucking take it, because it’s for Steve. He breaths in short gasps and swallows a whimper. It doesn't matter, this is what Bucky deserves and this is what Steve needs. Steve fills him up so full he feels like he can't fucking breathe, and the stretch of it is intense and just this side of painful. Bucky fucks his hips up and down, circles and tightens when he gets to the bottom again. He touches Steve everywhere, marvels that Steve even lets Bucky touch him with his dirty hands, rolls a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Steve moans and the sound goes straight to Bucky's dick. 


              Steve works a hand between their bodies so he can touch Bucky too, rubbing his hand up and down the length of Bucky’s dick and it feels so fucking amazing and wrong, wrong, wrong.


              Bucky slaps Steve’s hand away and moves them so they're resting on Bucky’s hips instead. He zeroes in on the things he knows make Steve feel good. Bucky leans down and licks a hot stripe up Steve's neck, hands still massaging up and down the smooth planes of Steve's body. 


              Bucky's thighs are trembling with effort, so he moves so that he's kneeling on the bed, knees framed on either side of Steve's hips, the tip of Steve's dick still inside him. 


              "C'mon...fuck me," Bucky murmurs, licking his dry lips. Steve's hands are gentle where they're resting on his hips. "I wanna still feel you tomorrow."


              Steve seems to consider for a moment, but then he tenderly pulls Bucky down until they're flush together, skin pressed against skin, not a hair of space between them. Bucky's level with Steve, who stares into his eyes and strokes the side of his face with the hand that isn't holding his hips. Steve pushes their bodies together, moves his hand from Bucky’s face down his scarred chest, down until he's working up and down the length of Bucky’s neglected cock, while fucking into him with long, slow strokes. 


              Steve leans up and captures Bucky’s lips in a warm kiss, nibbling gently and pulling so Bucky relaxes his body lower, lets the heady taste of Steve buzz wonderfully in his brain. 


              It feels like bliss.


              This is not the way it's supposed to go. Steve is not supposed to be touching him with gentle hands, and kisses that feel like a home Bucky lost in 1942. Bucky isn't supposed to feel good, loved, because when Steve looks at him like he deserves the world, Bucky feels like he’s going to be sick with how wrong it is. Sick at how he's manipulated someone as pure good as Steve to want to be with him. 


It's too much. 


              Steve pushes against a spot inside him at the same time he circles his thumb around the head of Bucky’s dick and Bucky comes with a half-muffled sob, holding onto Steve's broad shoulders like a lifeline. 


              The pleasure washes over him in waves, aftershocks making him tremble and shake in the strong circle of Steve’s arms. Steve rubs his back through the whole thing, peppers his scarred and twisted skin with kisses he can't feel. 


              They lay like that for a while, until Steve gently eases Bucky off, peeling the condom away and tossing it into the trash. And that's when Bucky realizes that Steve didn't come. Bucky automatically reaches for Steve's dick. 


              Steve didn't come because Bucky is still fucking useless, because Bucky’s so pathetic he can't even make Steve come-


              "Bucky, stop," Steve traps his hands so he can't move. He sounds pained, the pinch between his eyebrows back and this time there's no distracting him. Bucky’s exhausted, but he has to, he has to make Steve feel good.


              "I'm sorry," Bucky says quietly. He feels like he’s going to be sick.


              Steve doesn’t say anything when he pulls Bucky tight to his chest and hugs him close. His warm embrace feels like a blanket around Bucky's shivering body.


              “You don't owe me anything,” Steve murmurs. “I want you to feel good, too.” Steve doesn't broker any room for argument, covering Bucky's lips with his own before he can say anything.


              Steve reaches for the towel that Bucky discarded by the foot of the bed earlier. Moving slowly, he turns Bucky over so that he’s laid out flat on his back. Steve scoots down, lifting one of Bucky’s legs so he can probe gently at Bucky’s sore hole. Bucky hisses through his teeth and Steve looks up at him with a glance that’s full of disapproval.


              “We're taking more prep time next time, this is not okay-“


              “But you liked it, right?” Bucky says, and tries not to sound too desperate. Steve shakes his head with a sigh, and sets Bucky’s leg down lightly. Bucky feels cold.


              “Why do you do this, Bucky?”


              And here it comes…Steve’s going to make him leave. Bucky sits up quickly, wincing when the movement puts pressure on his ass and Steve is there in an instant, with that concerned look again. Steve lays them both back down to the mattress and spoons himself against Bucky’s back, his even breaths comforting against the back of Bucky’s neck. Bucky’s still tense, because he gets the feeling that this isn’t over yet, but for the meanwhile lets himself feel a little relief that even though he did a shit job of making Steve feel good tonight, that maybe, maybe Steve still wants this. Still wants him.


              “We'll talk about this in the morning, okay?” Steve says quietly into Bucky’s ear. He nods, but Steve must feel the tension in Bucky’s shoulders because he turns him around then, so that they're lying face to face on the pillow. Steve wraps his arms tight around Bucky’s torso and tangles their legs together comfortably, and Bucky never wants to lose the feeling of being so close to Steve. Steve’s smiling down at him, with an expression sweet enough to break his heart.


              “Don't worry, okay? I'm not mad at you. But we need to figure out why you always feel like you have to push yourself like this…you need to feel good too, okay?” Steve murmurs, pressing a kiss against his lips.


              Bucky’s too tired to argue with him even though he's wrong, so he just nods. Steve’s always been so kind to him, and he’ll never understand why. But for now, he let’s the selfish part take it, take all of Steve’s love, and wonder what he ever did to have someone so good sent in his direction.