1. It's an involuntary comparison, Bruce's mouth to Bucky's, but once Steve's noticed it, he can't unnotice it. Darcy, the girl that works for Coulson, says to him at some point that once seen, something can't be unseen, and she's talking about something gross, but this isn't. Gross. But the point is the same. He can't stop noticing, and can't stop thinking about the ways Bucky used his lips--generally not on Steve, although that would have been all right, but just, well. It's captivating, and it's all Steve can do not to while away the time during the hundred or so meetings involved in the formalization of the Avengers Initiative (which is going to have to stop being called that eventually, but Steve is completely opposed to anyone bringing that up because he's pretty sure it will make for another eight weeks of meetings; these people do have their own superpower, he's sure of it, and it's meetings)--all he can do not to while away the time during the parts that don't involve his active attention staring at those lips.
He's pretty sure the ideas that have come to him, in the dark, in bed, in the shower, and yes, in the midst of meetings, as to things he'd like to see those lips do? That's a list he really ought to keep to himself because probably Bruce has no intention of crawling under Steve's desk and wrapping them tight around his--yeah, he should definitely not think about that during meetings.
2. It's just Halloween, and it's just a charity thing, and there is no reason for Steve to have to look away and think cold-shower thoughts for a couple of minutes while he examines a series of posters a lot more clearly than he actually cares to. But when Bruce takes the mug from his lips, he leaves a red lipstick imprint, which both leaves the shape of his mouth on the ceramic and leaves the remaining color on his lips smeared. When he turns up next to Steve just when Steve thinks he has himself under control, the smearing is still there, and he can't help it. He reaches and runs his thumb under Bruce's lower lip, which is exactly as soft and exactly as firm and exactly as perfect as his imagination has led him to expect. Bruce raises a querying eyebrow, and Steve stammers something about a smear, and then (thank God), it's time to do their little show and go home.
Steve hangs around the room for a second after they're done and impulsively grabs the mug (what is wrong with him?) and sprays it with some of the hairspray one of the other acts left. It's not a great fixative, but it's one he's used for other things before, and he's just hoping to leave the imprint there a little longer, just to look at it.
Who's he kidding? He's going to creepily keep it and stare at it and think thoughts so impure he's surprised JARVIS hasn't declared him toxic.
3. Darcy's the one who notices his problem, but, kind of to his surprise, she doesn't, as she says, judge him. It's apparently not how she rolls. She just agrees, he--Bruce--has a nice jawline, pretty lips, kind eyes. She also asks if Steve means to do anything about his crush, and Steve shakes his head and looks at his shoes. It's kind of silly, he knows, but like it or not, he doesn't know how to begin with a 21st-century guy who isn't exactly free of what Tony calls issues. He knows what he wants, because his subconscious reminds him every ten seconds or so, but that's not a plan, that's a wish.
Darcy thinks he's being a little ridiculous (she says so) and offers to help if she can--like, she could maybe arrange for Bruce to end up with a lot of popsicles or bananas or something?
Steve nearly chokes on his own tongue, and Darcy pats him on the back and says she knows, she knows, but seriously he's going to have to do something because he's getting kind of obvious and that's just pathetic.
4. When he has thirty pages of sketches, many sketches per page, of every aspect of Bruce's lower face - jaw, lips, teeth, tongue, throat, earlobe, the finger he sometimes presses into the center of the bottom lip, the lump where he pushes his tongue into a corner from the inside as he thinks sometimes... - Steve goes back to Darcy and tells her he really, really has a problem.
She pats him on the back again, says she'll figure out a way to handle it, and sends him to the gym to work off some frustration. But not too much, she says. He shouldn't wear himself out.
He chuckles drily and reminds her that's impossible, but she shakes her head and says, still.
5. Of course, he's still at the gym when Bruce shows up, lounging against the doorframe with one shoulder, watching Steve hit things. Steve realizes he's there between one swing and the next and starts to turn, and flat-out misses the punching bag, whirling himself in half a circle before he stops, puts his hands on his hips, and laughs at himself, staring at the floor.
He asks what Bruce needs - is there an emergency? Usually it's Hill or Fury who finds him in those cases, but there's not a rule.
Bruce smiles, a little shy, a little reticent, and says Darcy had said he might be here.
Steve nearly says something aloud in his dismay - has Darcy sold him out? Because finding a way to handling it and just running to tell Bruce about his obsession are not the same. But Bruce is still talking, pacing now, nervous, and Steve realizes it's that Darcy knew Bruce was looking for him. Possibly because. Oh. Because... he's apparently an idiot. He's in front of Bruce in three seconds, standing close, uncertain what to say, and Bruce is looking up at him, and his eyes are tinged with the green that suggests his control is a little shot, and Steve recognizes that feeling, knows it, owns it, and that's all he needs. He ducks his chin down and lifts Bruce up to meet him, kissing those lips that he's wanted to touch, to taste, to watch as they touch and taste every inch of his body.
Bruce wraps his legs around Steve's waist and kisses back, his tongue eager in Steve's mouth, his throat letting out wrenching, needy sounds as the fingers of one of Steve's hands find their way down the back of those elastic-waisted pants and squeeze the flesh he finds. He doesn't realize he's walking - or, he does, but he doesn't care. Later it's hazy which was true, but it hardly matters. He presses Bruce against the wall, next to the door he came in by, and takes his time tracing all the planes and lines of the face he's drawn over and over, learning with his mouth and his free hand just exactly what each line, each inch of space taste and feel like. When Bruce squirms his way free, when he pushes Steve back and starts his own thorough exploration, pushing up Steve's t-shirt and kissing his way from one nipple to the other, it's all Steve can do to stay upright. He turns, leans back against the wall, and lets his head hit with a thump.
And when Bruce shoves down the waist of his sweat pants, when he closes his lips around Steve's dick, it's everything he'd hoped for, and it occurs to him Darcy might be a genius. And also that she'd known what she was talking about, when she told him not to wear himself out, because if he has anything to say about it, Bruce's mouth is not the only part of him Steve is going to kiss tonight. By a lot.
+1. Steve sends Darcy a small, tasteful, expensive bouquet in the morning, with a note indicating his recent discovery of her genius.
She sends back something he guesses is a bouquet of sorts as well, only instead of flowers it's made of chocolate lips on sticks.
Bruce looks at the chocolate, laughs, and holds out his hand, and Steve agrees to share. They have to have something for breakfast, after all.