“Dammit Buck! Cut it out!”
Bucky chuckles and hefts Steve further into his arms even as he tries to squirm out of them. “Stop wriggling!”
“Stop picking me up!”
Bucky huffs and frowns, but places Steve gently back on his feet where he glares and smooths his clothes over his reedy frame. He’s as tall as Bucky still, but gone are the wide shoulders and round muscles, cheeks now as hollow as they were back... before.
Bucky rests his hands on Steve’s bony shoulders. “I’m sorry. You can’t blame me for getting a kick out of bein’ able to push you around again.”
Steve turns away without saying anything, and it feels like Bucky’s gone and done it again. “Steve, c’mon, I’m sorry! Cut me some slack, huh?”
Steve looks up from the fridge he’s rooting around in for... lunch, Bucky figures. “Quit tryin’ ta carry me around then,” he mumbles as he pulls out a couple of tomatoes and a cucumber, some ham and cheese, the makings of a sandwich or two.
Bucky sits at the kitchen island and starts buttering bread, using the dairy free stuff since Steve’s allergic now. The bread’s a special gluten free kind too, a little dryer than normal but Bucky doesn’t mind. “I like bein’ able to pick you up,” he says to the bread. Steve stops cutting tomatoes to sigh. “Well it feels like you’re making fun of me,” he says, going back to his methodical slicing.
Bucky tuts. “I would never make fun of you, Steve.” At Steve’s pointed look he continues: “I mean I’d never mean it. I love you. Big or small or anything, any way, I’m always happy to be with you. And you know, it’s nice, being the big guy for a change? You’re gonna be back to your old self in no time and then I won’t be able to lift you up or throw you around or... or hold you down... or any of that anymore.”
Steve chops up cucumber without saying anything and Bucky puts the lid back on the weird fake butter. “Do you not believe that I like you like this?”
“Buck. C’mon, look at me,” Steve spreads his hands to show off the looseness of his clothes and the amount of space he just doesn’t take up.
“You look like you used to! And I liked you then, didn’t I?”
Steve starts cutting cheese into thin slices and Bucky continues. “Do I really seem like that sorta person who pretends shit like that? You know I’m not. If you’d let me touch you I could prove it.”
Steve pulls the buttered bread towards him from across the counter and starts compiling the sandwiches. Bucky had wondered why he’d sliced cheese but it only goes into one of the sandwiches, which gets swiftly cut into triangles and put on a plate before it’s pushed grumpily over the granite towards him. Bucky pouts and looks at it, four white triangles of love. “Don’t you want it?” Steve asks, biting into his own sandwich with the same level of gusto he eats everything, regardless of size.
“You put cheese in it.”
Steve shrugs. “You like cheese,”
“I like you,” Bucky counters, and he considers the sandwich again before picking it up and taking a bite.
“Can I blow you later?” He asks casually, between bites of the sandwich. Steve raises his eyebrows as he chews, swallows, swallows some more. “Scuse me?”
“Lemme suck your dick. I wanna prove how hot I think you are.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“But I want to. I miss your dick, Steve.”
“I’m serious!” He wipes his mouth before continuing. “I wanna take you in the bedroom, lay you out on the bed, take off your shirt and kiss you all over. Give you a couple lovebites cause I know you miss them,” Steve doesn’t deny it, chewing methodically and listening with a pretty skeptical look on his face. “Then I’ll open your pants and get my hand inside ‘em, get my hand around your beautiful dick, cause I know you don’t think so but your dick is,” he catches Steve’s reproachful eye, “really fucking pretty. And then I’ll take your pants off and get my mouth on you, suck you til you’re seein’ stars from it, and I’ll push your legs back so I can suck your asshole too, cause I know you like that, and your asshole ain’t changed.”
“Bucky,” Steve says quietly, his sandwich halfway to his lips, forgotten.
“S’ the only time i can get you to shut up and listen to me.”
Steve finishes his piece of sandwich and proceeds to push crumbs around his plate coyly. “What else?”
Bucky doesn’t laugh, just swallows his own mouthful. “We’ve talked all sorts about what we’d do if you ever got...” he gestures back towards Steve, “de-vitarayed. You tell me.”
The sound of Steve’s swallow is loud enough for them both to hear it.
“Do you not remember?” Bucky asks, “I can refresh your memory if you want. We don’t haveta do anything if you don’t want but this is an opportunity if ever I saw one.”
He watches Steve push the crumbs on his plate into a neat line, when he mumbles, “Let me fuck you.”
Steve presses a finger into the white of the bread and watches as it mostly fills back out like a sponge. “Will you let me fuck you?” He turns his eyes on Bucky then, as blue and as earnest as ever.
“‘Course, Steve. Why wouldn’t I?”
“I guess... cause I’m usually so big. It’s not like you can say no, you know?”
“What are you talkin about? You think I ‘let you’ do stuff to me? Steve I love when you fuck me. I love all the shit we do together. You think I’m doing any of that cause I have to? Cause you make me? C’mon, Steve you know me better than that.”
Bucky stands and picks up his sandwich. “I’ll be in the bedroom. Come do whatever you want with me when you’re ready.” He leaves Steve standing there with his crumbs.
Bucky’s laying on the bed naked, eating the last of his sandwich when Steve comes in. He looks up and puts the empty plate in Steve’s outstretched hand. “I want you to suck my dick,” Steve says, hands balled at his sides. “Ok,” says Bucky.
“And I want to tell you what to do. And you have to do it without talking back or making fun.”
“And I want to... to bend you over the edge of the bed and fuck you. And I want you to lick my ass!”
Bucky grins. “Sounds good.” It’s not like he’s going to complain or disagree, but Steve’s stood there like he’s laying down the law and Bucky won’t stop giving him trouble.
“And... and you can’t complain.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Steve nods, a short, sharp jerk of his head like he’s just received an order. “Alright.”
Bucky extends a hand. “Shall we?”
A pink sliver of tongue darts out between Steve’s lips. “Get on your knees. On the floor.”
Bucky’s eyebrows lift but he settles quietly on the floor in front of Steve and reaches for his belt. He’s stopped by a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t do anything I don’t tell you to do.”
Bucky stills and drops his hands to his knees. “Ok, sorry.”
The belt buckle clacks as Steve undoes it and then the button fly of his jeans, his thin hand pulling out the disproportionately thick cock that the serum had nothing to do with. Bucky feels his mouth begin to water. Steve holds it with one hand before guiding Bucky’s head with the other. “Suck it,” he instructs in a hoarse whisper.
It’s been weeks since Steve’s let Bucky get this close to his dick; that thing about missing it wasn’t a lie. It’s so warm and weighty in his mouth as he moves to Steve’s directions, his hand tight in his hair and guiding him back and forth. Steve even holds him there with the thick weight pressing slowly into his throat, and Bucky prepares himself for it. He’d be throat-fucked by Steve any day of the week, but Steve pulls back anyway, pulling out to leave little threads of saliva between his dick and Bucky’s mouth.
He pulls Bucky up, more a gesture than with any real force, but Bucky goes, is pushed onto the bed on his back and then a tube of lube is tossed after him. “Get your ass ready. F-for me to fuck it.”
Bucky wants to say there’s no need to prove anything, there’s no... precedent being set here. It’s just what they’ve always done, serum or no, but Steve seems to need this, this weird recalibration of roles. Making sure Bucky really will let himself be dominated by Steve even in this slighter frame.
He gets it, really. Steve and him, since coming in from the cold: they fight, they scrap and push, boisterously throw one another around in the bedroom (and the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom), so their lovemaking is often a fight for dominance. Bucky wouldn’t fight Steve now, but he still needs to know, be shown that Bucky will let him have that anyway. Let him come out on top.
Steve takes off his clothes and straddles Bucky before he’s had much time to really look at his slighter figure, which is a shame because it’s also no lie that he loves Steve like this just as much as always. Steve all but sits on Bucky’s face for him to stick his tongue out for him to ride. He grinds on him, smelling like musk and sweat and exactly what Bucky’s missed all this time. Bucky’s hard but Steve ignores it in favour of pulling Bucky’s hand round and pulling his knees up. He gets the hint, and it’s a little like trying to pat your head and rub your tummy at the same time but he manages it, gets himself slick and open whilst tongueing Steve’s hole til he’s quivering and sighing above him.
There’s a wetness on Bucky’s cock that’s gone as soon as it’s there, Steve licking a single stripe up it before moving and grasping at him, trying to pull him down the bed. Bucky goes, shifting down the bed til he’s bent over the edge how Steve said. It’s low enough that he can kneel there with his torso bent over, and Steve pushes his head into the mattress as he slicks himself up and pushes in. It’s so nice being filled up again, and maybe he didn’t do the most thorough job with the prep so it aches a little, but he doesn’t care. It all just serves to remind him of the first few times they did this, a tub of vaseline and lots of odd false starts before- “oh shit right there!” - they figured out the right way.
Steve groans and leans over Bucky, his ribs digging into his skin as he grinds in deeply, rasping his veiny cock over Bucky’s prostate. It’s perfect and he wishes Steve would let him look at him, let him watch as his slight muscles move under his pale skin as he pumps away, losing himself and growing redder, quicker of breath and frantic til he’s clawing at Bucky’s shoulders and gasping against his neck. “Please,” Bucky says, the weight nothing like enough to push the air out of his lungs but he’s breathless anyway. “Please let me see.”
Steve slides out of him and rests his forehead against Bucky’s back. “Ok,” he pants, so Bucky scrambles up onto the bed and waits for Steve to crawl over and push his legs up and open before slotting right back in. The breath catches in Bucky’s throat at the deja vu of it all, at how impossibly long it’s been since it’s been like this for the two of them.
“What is it?” Steve asks, more unsure than he ever used to be back then. Bucky can’t say anything, he’s not the poetic one, he feels like he’s gonna cry if he tries to explain it, so he just reaches for Steve and privately rejoices when he acquiesces, letting Bucky gather him into his arms as he keeps up the rhythm of his thrusts.
“So perfect, Steve,” he says into his soft hair. “Love you so much.”
“I know, it’s ok, I know, I know,” Steve replies, his words muffled by Bucky’s chest. Bucky doesn’t let go, he can’t let go, cause all of a sudden it feels like Steve’s gonna just float away if he’s not holding on to him, that this is just a dream from one of his long long sleeps and he’ll wake up and be someone else.
“Don’t wanna lose you,” he says, and it’s too much, he’s gonna fall apart if he’s not careful so he tenses up and Steve’s wise to it, because he knows Bucky better than he knows himself.
“What is it?” he asks, pulling away enough that Bucky stops holding on so tight to let him. “Is it me?”
“Yeah,” Bucky admits, “but it’s. It’s good. It’s so good. I always thought of you like this and it’s like my dream is coming true.” The tears spring forward and it’s stupid, he’s a grown man, they both are, they don’t fucking cry, they never have. Steve’s looking at him like he’s crazy, still buried inside him but not moving, just staring at the way Bucky’s totally losing it.
There’s a hand on his face, Steve’s thumbs wiping away the tears from his eyes before he’s kissing him, frantic and urgent and somehow grounding and fantastical at the same time. A kiss to span decades, life and death.
There’s a salt taste in Bucky’s mouth and it takes him a moment to realise Steve’s face is wet from his own tears, and he wraps his arms back around him and holds on again, til Steve moans into his mouth because this was how they used to do it, when it was still a push and pull; not of strength but of will.
Steve pulls back again and pulls at Bucky, hands on his neck til he says thickly, “Ride me. I want to feel your weight.”
He feels tiny in Bucky’s arms as he pulls him close to kiss him again, a thousand salty kisses over his perfect face as he shifts, rolls so he’s straddling Steve, his bones even more marked than before with the lazy force of gravity pulling his skin even tauter over them. He holds himself above Steve as Steve guides his erection home, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s neck to look into his eyes as he fucks up into him. He pulls him down further, til the weight of Bucky’s body is almost pinning him to the bed and he grins at it, smiles at the shared memories of their crappy old Brooklyn apartment.
He can barely move now so the thrusts are tiny, abortive little things, but they’re in the perfect spot to lavish Bucky’s prostate with sweet bursts of pleasure til he’s tensing up and kissing Steve hard as he’s coming between them, slick and hot.
Steve grins into their kiss and their teeth click together as Bucky grins too, moving up so Steve can bring himself off properly, fucking into Bucky’s ass til he’s going so fast his brow is beaded with sweat and his eyes are screwed shut. “C’mon, Steve, come inside me, I wanna feel it. I belong to you,” Bucky says, til Steve’s whole body tenses as he groans through gritted teeth and comes, his last few thrusts hard and sharp and erratic as he fucks his way through his orgasm.
Bucky eases off to lay beside him, one hand softly resting on his rising and falling abdomen as he struggles to get his breath back. He’s learned his lesson in asking if Steve needs anything, an inhaler, an antihistamine, whatever, so stays and waits til Steve’s breathing has levelled out before he turns to look at him.
“You alright?” Steve asks, and the skin on Bucky’s face feels tight from the dried tears as he grins lopsidedly.
“Yeah,” he replies. “You?”
“Sorry about-” Bucky begins, and Steve shakes his head.
“No, I think I get it. I’m sorry. This was perfect.” He sighs and Bucky subconsciously pulls him closer. “I thought about this so much, Bucky.”
Bucky moves so he can press his lips to Steve’s cheek. “Me too.”
They lie there a while longer while the air chills the cum on their bodies til it’s too gross to be ignored, then Bucky scoots off the bed and holds out a hand to help Steve up. Steve looks at it and stretches, a tiny smile on his face. “You should carry me,” he says, the tiny smile turning into a grin.