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just a lucky so-and-so

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It's a little known fact that Bucky is handsy; from a cuff upside the head to a shove in the ribs to an arm slung across Steve's shoulders, he's all hands. It took Steve an entirely too long a time to realise Bucky is handsy for him, that he's perfectly capable of having professional and personal relationships that don't include frequent physical contact, but he gets it now. He can see it, and he can play along; because it's amazing, and heartwarming and dizzying to have Bucky's attention on him, to have him and see him gravitate towards Steve, always, like a magnet or a moth.

And it's an even less known fact, but Steve? Is all hands, too.

Which doesn't exactly prepare him for when, one boring afternoon going from a briefing to the training areas, Bucky grabs Steve by the collar and hustles him into one of the interrogation rooms that line the level 3 corridors. By now, Steve has a pretty Pavlovian automatic response to this sort of thing: they're kissing even before his back hits the door, hard and urgent like they're teenagers, like they weren't nearly late that morning because Steve couldn't get his hands off Bucky in the shower. Bucky says it's because they have a lot of time to make up for. Steve tends to agree.

He almost trips over his own feet, now, when Bucky presses up against him with a soft sound, licking into his mouth and swallowing the echoing noise Steve makes.

Still, 'This is a terrible idea, Buck,' Steve says when they break for air and Bucky starts eyeing the straps on Steve's uniform like he's wondering if getting Steve out of it is worth the effort.

'I know,' he says, smirking in that way he has where Steve could just stare at the curve of his mouth for hours. 'All my ideas are, don't you remember?'

Steve huffs a laugh. 'Ain't that the truth.' He presses his smile the the corner of Bucky's mouth, and for a moment they just stand there, breathing the same air, until Bucky puts one warm and one adamantium-cold hand against Steve's chest, and stands on his tiptoes to whisper in Steve's ear, low and warm and seductive: 'Tag.'

And then he's gone.

It's always a shock, how fast Bucky can be when he puts his mind to it. He's silent and deadly, but now Steve doesn't think about it; Bucky's deadliness doesn't register to him any longer, not more than Bucky's uniform or left arm. This is who Bucky is, a soldier and a spy, and Steve will take that and live with it just like Bucky has to live with it. Because together, they can deal with anything. Unstoppable, Bucky calls the two of them sometimes, grinning crookedly. And they are, aren't they? If time and ice and death can't put them down for good, well, that actually leaves Steve pretty optimistic about the future.

Steve gives chase through the bowels of the Helicarrier. A flash of dark in the corner of his vision; he turns just in time to see Bucky rounding a corner, down the hall to the elevators. Steve can be fast, too. He stops the elevator doors from closing with his boot, and then Bucky pulls him inside by the collar of his uniform.

The thing about necking in elevators, Steve has discovered through deeply humiliating experience, is that Bucky's mouth has catastrophic results for Steve's concentration. It's horrible. It's as if as soon as he has his hands on Bucky, as soon as he's kissing him as deep and dirty as he wants, as soon as they're pressed together, Steve's conscious mind just rolls over and gives up. Steve knows, with grim certainty, that one day Bucky will smile at him the wrong way while they're in the field — and in that case, the wrong way will be any way capable of reminding Steve of all the sweaty, sticky things they're doing all the damn time — and Steve will forget to duck. And then he'll get shot. And then Bucky will kill him.

The other thing about necking in elevators, though, is that it's incredibly hot.

Only downside is, they can't get as naked as Steve would like.

'I hate this thing,' Steve mutters irritably when his sleeve catches on the holster on the right side of Bucky's ribs. If he rips the gloves again, Agent Coulson isn't going to be very amused.

Smiling, Bucky catches Steve's mouth in a quick kiss. 'I know,' he says. 'You liked the old dress uniform, right?'

'It made you look handsome. And you need all the help you can get.'

He laughs when Bucky kicks him in the shin. 'Punk.'

The elevator doors ding and open, but nobody walks in. Steve presses Bucky up against the wall and kisses him again, sweet and lingering, and can't stop smiling. When he pulls back Bucky moves with him, then blinks. Steve reaches around him to press a button at random.

'Tag,' he whispers, and runs down the hall before the doors can close.

He passes a flock of SHIELD trainees, who boggle with their mouths hanging open at the sight of Captain America giggling like a schoolgirl and, okay, skipping. Kind of. A little. He takes the corner and nearly collides with the opposing wall, but catches himself at the last minute and hides in a utility closet. There are probably skidmarks left on the floor. He leans out of the room just far enough that he can see Bucky stop by the trainees and level them with a grave look.

'You,' he says, jerking his chin at the smallest of them. The man lets out a squeak. 'Seen Captain Rogers anywhere?'

'I,' the trainee starts, then seems to close up in terror. Steve feels bad for the whole group; they probably already heard stories about the Winter Soldier, his hair-trigger temper and that ridiculous and completely fabricated rumour about him wrestling bears with his bare hands.

'Big guy,' Bucky explains, marking Steve's height in the air. 'Kinda dumb-looking. Blue tights.' When the trainee opens and closes his mouth a few times, Bucky scowls and says, very seriously, 'Look, son, this is a matter of state security.'

One of the others raises her hand. 'I believe Captain Rogers went —' she cuts herself off when Bucky directs his scowl at her, and finishes a little meekly, 'Um, thataway.'

Bucky nods. 'Thanks. You're, uh. You're making your country proud, keep it up.'

The trainee's eyes nearly pop out of her skull and her back goes ramrod-straight as she salutes. 'Sir, yes sir!'

Steve leans against the wall, trying not to cry with laughter. He wishes he had a cell phone with him; he'll have to ask Natasha to hack the security feed later, because he plans to watch the footage over and over until it stops being funny, which would be about never. But he doesn't try to run any more when Bucky catches him. Instead, he reaches around Bucky to close the door and lock it. The closet goes dark, and really it's kind of tiny with the two of them inside. Trying to find the light switch Bucky manages to hit Steve in the nose with his elbow, which makes Steve crack up again; god, they can be clumsy and ridiculous sometimes.

Bruce — between getting Bucky addicted to yoga and romance novels — said they're overcompensating for that whole thing where they grew up in the Depression and yeah, it was pretty bleak. With the starving, and then the war, Steve is of the opinion that they're entitled to some clumsy and ridiculous.

Bucky finds the light, and the tiny closet seems suddenly even tinier with one point of light above their heads, nothing more than a bare bulb. Bucky grins, wide and happy.

For a moment Steve doesn't know what to do — well, no, he knows what to do.

'Steve?' Bucky leans in close, frowning.

Steve drops to his knees and starts unbuckling Bucky's uniform.

'That works too, I guess,' Bucky says, laughing, then: 'Fuck, you're serious,' when Steve tugs his pants down his thighs. Bucky's already half-hard, so Steve doesn't waste any time, just gets to work and hums in approval at the choked-back moan Bucky makes. His hands land on Steve's shoulders for support, which isn't exactly where Steve wants them, so he takes Bucky's right wrist and puts his fingers in his hair, and then, yeah, that's it. He's not trying to show off, but he hears the hollow thunk when Bucky drops his head back against the wall and then it's just the slick, wet sounds of him down here and Bucky breathing through his teeth and biting back anything louder than a gasp.

Someone is bound to come looking for them; it always happens, probably because Nick Fury thinks making Steve blush is funny or something, so Steve puts his mind to it and wraps his hand around the base of Bucky's dick and just swallows him down, and again. Above him, Bucky whines like he's dying, and lets out a string of muffled curses. His hips jerk forward, then again. That's how Steve knows he's close: Bucky checks himself whenever he can, but get him hot and bothered enough and his control flies right out the window.

Steve is kind of proud, it usually takes a lot more to make Bucky lose it like this, but he takes what he can get and keeps going until Bucky's fingers tighten in his hair convulsively and it hurts in the best possible way and he's coming down Steve's throat, fighting for breath. Steve pulls off and eases him through it with his hand, resting his forehead against Bucky's left hip, and swallows a few times.

'Jesus,' Bucky says. He grabs Steve's shoulder again and helps him to his feet, just to put his face in the crook of Steve's neck and breathe some more. 'That's. You're.'

'I know,' Steve says, a little smug. He tucks Bucky in and zips him up; it's pretty obvious Bucky isn't up for complicated tasks at the moment. When he starts fumbling to undo Steve's pants, Steve grabs his hands to still them. 'I'm good till we get home.'

Bucky looks up at him, but just shrugs. 'Your loss.' He does tilt his head up to kiss Steve, though, slow and warm and easy. Steve probably likes him best this way, loose-limbed and relaxed, expression unguarded and the shadows gone from his eyes for the moment. Steve could just kiss him for hours — does, sometimes, when the world isn't in too much peril and Bucky isn't away on a mission and they can just clock out, hang a 'do not disturb' sign over the door to the apartment and stay in for a whole weekend, Steve tracing the cartography of Bucky's scars and Bucky warming the metal of his left hand on Steve's skin.

And Steve really needs to work on his distractibility around Bucky, it's starting to be a problem, because he doesn't notice when Bucky turns the lock and only starts paying attention when Bucky starts leading him, step by step, towards the door. He slides his hands down the front of Steve's uniform and gently pushes him away.

'Close your eyes,' he says. The words never fail to send a shiver down Steve's spine; whenever Bucky tells him to close his eyes, something amazing, hot and usually incredibly filthy is bound to follow. So Steve closes his eyes and tries to keep the smile off his face, and knows he's failing.

Except then the door opens with a soft creak and Bucky says, 'Tag.'

Steve opens his eyes to see Bucky dive into one of the corridors that lead to the emergency stairwell. Grinning, he gives chase.