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There wasn't any other place to sit.

Steve smoothed his hands over his slacks, looking down at his lap because…because it wasn't really right, was it? It wasn't really right for him to be here.

The bed rocked a little under him, and he closed his eyes. The back of his neck was sweating, and his throat felt dry, and he was hard. How could he not be?

But it wasn't supposed to be like this, it never went like this. Bucky always insisted on doing these double dates, but the girl meant for Steve always got that disappointed look, and Steve always found a reason to slink off so she wouldn't have to pretend to be nice to him. As often as not, both girls went home with Bucky, and Steve would…find someplace else to sleep that night.

Bucky grunted and the girl made a little giggling sound. Steve looked around at her apartment. It was small, not much room. Definitely not room for an extra chair or anything. Just the bed and a couple of drawers. A photograph in a frame and a few hanging dresses.

One dress on the floor.

Steve twisted his knuckles so hard it hurt.

He still didn't quite know how they'd ended up this way. Like usual, his girl had turned up her nose at him, and that had been fine. She'd made up an excuse, and just when Steve had been about to mumble out his own so Bucky and his dame could be alone, Bucky's girl had put her hand on his wrist and told him, "Stay."

And so he had. Through dinner, and he'd chipped in his share even though he could hardly afford it. Through three drinks for them and one for him at the gin joint down the road, and then it had really been time to go, really.

Then she'd invited them both back to her place.

The sounds got even louder, the motions of the rickety bedframe wilder, and Bucky let out this groan, and Steve…

Bucky would never have to know.

Steve lifted his gaze, and wished he hadn't and was so, so glad he had. How many times had he wondered what this looked like? Pictured Bucky on top of a woman and pushing into her, naked back on display, and the firmness of his rear as it flexed, and there was more, too. There were all those curves, and Steve might not prefer dames, but even he wasn't made of stone. Soft breasts, heaving, and he'd never seen a girl without her shirt before. He'd never seen bare hips or the way those thighs could wrap around a fella.

Bucky ducked his head and kissed her and slammed forward one more time, and then he was collapsing down, looking so damn sated and happy. Steve was beyond hard now, was aching, but there was another ache. A twist in his stomach.

He wasn't supposed to be here.

After a minute of lying there, panting, Bucky rolled off of her, and Steve couldn't help staring. Buck's prick was still stiff, and when he pulled off the prophylactic, the flesh beneath was shiny and wet and looked so good, resting proud against the trail of dark hair.

A breathy sigh of laughter made Steve jerk his eyes away. "Your friend seems to have gotten a little less shy."

"Stevie?" Bucky waved his hand dismissively. "Ain't shy. Just can't talk to women."

"Wonder why," she said, and there was irony there. Like she knew. He looked up and met her eyes, and went cold. Yeah. She knew.

Still, she pushed herself up and walked on her knees over to him, inserting herself right into his space, and he didn't know what to do when she straddled his lap. All her girl parts were on display with her legs spread like that, and she was so warm. She leaned in close and whispered in his ear, "Wanna put on a show for him, huh?"

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't be having an asthma attack, not right now, but his lungs were tight, and then she was kissing him. Her lips were soft and tasted like smoke and gin and something sticky that was probably her lipstick. He opened up for it out of sheer confusion, and then her tongue was in his mouth. He gave a little whine, but he still couldn't get enough air.

Only then the bed shifted, and Bucky was talking, low and rough, and the hand on Steve's was Bucky's. Big, warm, callused fingers pried Steve's death-grip from the sheet. "Relax, Stevie."

Bucky's hand on his while he had a tongue in his mouth and legs spread across his hips was not helping him relax, but the panic ebbed a little, leaving a different kind of tightness, a different breathlessness. He let her kiss him, and because he was an idiot, he turned his hand over and intertwined Bucky's and his fingers, and Bucky didn't let go.

"That's right, baby," the girl said. She kissed down his throat and pulled at his tie, loosening it and undoing the top two buttons of his shirt. "You're just adorable, you know that?"

"I try?"

She laughed and nibbled his ear, and Steve squeezed Bucky's hand harder. "Bet I could pick you up and have my way with you." She probably wasn't wrong. Louder, lifting her head, she asked, "He ever get his wick wet before?"

"Nah," Bucky replied. Steve's ears burned with shame. "You gonna break him in for me?"

"Think I just might."

And the two of them talking over him, talking about…doing that with him, it make Steve's breathing go shaky again, all the air leaving him when nimble fingers closed around him through his slacks.

"Oh," she said, a surprised little murmur. "Not so little everywhere."

"Right?" Bucky asked, laughing. "Our boy's full of surprises. First time I caught him rubbing one out, I almost broke my jaw on the floor."

And oh, Steve remembered that. He whined and pushed his hips up into her touch.

He'd been thinking of Bucky, face buried in his pillow, hand making fast strokes, and it had been too warm, he'd had to throw the covers off. Bucky was supposed to be gone for the afternoon, but he'd walked in. Steve had looked up at the sound of the door opening, and he'd been looking in Bucky's eyes as he lost it all over himself.

They'd never talked of it again. Not until now. Steve took a risk and glanced over at Buck. He was still naked, and he looked so good, and his hand was grounding as the girl opened his trousers and put her hand on his dick.

Steve had never been touched like that before, and the noise he let out was embarrassing, and this was wrong. So wrong. But Bucky was looking at him, and it felt good—warm pressure and a hand that wasn't his own, sticky-slick strokes sliding up and down his length.

Soft breath in his ear. "Just keep your eyes on him," she whispered.

And then she was rolling a rubber on him, and, oh, that felt…

Warmth and her body sinking down on him, and he was inside a girl. He let out this little squeaking sound. He wasn't a virgin anymore.

He didn't even know her name.

She started moving, subtle flexes of her hips, and he set a palm on her waist just to feel that smooth dip. Her breasts were bouncing in his face, and she felt so warm and soft all around him, and he almost knew why Bucky did this all the time. It was so much better than his own hand or the rough slide against the sheets, even if it wasn't what he really wanted.

But Bucky was right there, was looking right at him as he was taken. As a girl bounced in his lap, and Steve could almost pretend. He gripped Buck's hand tighter and let his head fall back against the wall. The temptation was to close his eyes, to give into the pleasure of all that soft heat surrounding his cock, but he couldn't sever the connection. He might not ever get this close again. His balls started to tighten, and she rocked faster, and Steve couldn't help himself. He walked his hand up Bucky's wrist, to his elbow and higher, until he had his hand on Bucky's chest, and it was firm and solid and…

"Bet he'd let you kiss him," she breathed.

And that was it. He got his hand on the back of Bucky's neck and tugged, and Bucky came so willingly. His mouth was hot and perfect and the kiss so much better than he could have imagined, and he was coming harder than he ever had before, and he was having sex and kissing Bucky and—

He may have blacked out there for a second. When he came to, his mouth was slack against Bucky's cheek, and the girl was lifting herself off of his lap. He slipped free and shuddered at the sudden chill. Hands touched him, and he looked down and almost came all over again at the fact that it was Bucky's hand, pulling the rubber off. The girl took it from him, and Steve was dizzy, so he let himself teeter to the side, and if it was into Bucky's chest, well.

Buck wrapped an arm around him, and Steve pressed his face into the muscle and hair and breathed in Bucky's scent. And maybe this was just a thing that happened when you were sharing a girl. Maybe it was comfort, because getting up inside someone for the first time when you didn't know her name was enough to leave a guy a little cold, but Steve was warm.

"Easy, Stevie."

"Don't call me that," Steve mumbled, shaking his head against Bucky's chest. "Sounds like I'm a kid."

Bucky laughed. "What would you rather I called you?"

"He liked it when I called him 'baby'," the girl said from up near the headboard. There was the scraping sound of a match and then the subtle scent of smoke.

Bucky ran fingers through Steve's hair. He leaned in close. "That what you want me to call you? Baby?"

Steve's cock was done and on its way to soft, but it spurt just a little more against his thigh, and he tremored. If Bucky was joking, Steve would—Steve didn't know what he would do. He'd been hiding this for years, but things were different now. He'd kissed Buck as he'd come, and Buck was holding him, and—

And these weren't the kinds of conversations to be having, not like this. Not now. Not when they weren't alone. As if to remind them both of that, the girl nudged at the both of them as she tugged at the covers, trying to pull her blanket out from underneath them. "You fellas stayin'?"

"I don't know," Bucky said. "Are we?"

There was an invitation there. They could extend this strange no man's land a little longer, put off going home, alone together until morning.

"Okay," Steve said quietly.

Bucky got him out of his button-down and his slacks, and Steve let him, Bucky's hands lingering a little as they undressed him. Steve still felt overdressed in an undershirt and his drawers with the both of them naked, but then Buck was laying him out on his side and curling around his back. Bucky's arm was warm, draped across Steve's chest, the weight good.

"You okay?"

Steve's eyes were prickling, because he'd never been so okay before. "Yeah," he managed, and slid his hand over Bucky's.

The girl laughed as she turned off the light and slid in behind Bucky in the dark. Her fingertips grazed Steve's side when she wrapped an arm around Bucky.

"Leave it to figure it would take a girl to help two queers figure their business out," she mumbled into the pillow, and Steve stiffened.

Because, sure, he'd been called a queer before, and it was true enough, but Bucky—

Steve braced himself, waiting for Buck to throw himself out of the bed or yell or something, because he wouldn't stand for that.

Would he?

But Bucky just laughed. "Thanks for that, Lorraine."

Steve felt strangely better, just knowing her name.

He felt even better than that when Bucky squeezed Steve tighter. When Steve could let out his breath, because Bucky wasn't going to claim to not be like him. Bucky wasn't going to run away, and Steve's heart felt like it would burst right out of his chest.

It took him a long, long time to calm his uneven pulse. Long enough for the other two to fall asleep. For ages, he stared at the wall and stroked his thumb against Bucky's skin, felt the whispers of Bucky's breath on the back of his neck.

In the morning…

He had a lot of things to thank that girl for, too.