Bucky doesn’t understand it.
Frankly, he doesn’t understand a lot of things, but this?
When he first saw Phil Coulson’s nephew he thought the boy was too loud, moved too much. He was energy and noise and long, flailing limbs. He took up more space than anyone his size should have. He wasn’t tall, roughly five feet and six or so inches, a lithe thing. He was also pretty. That confused Bucky more. The boy had high cheekbones that cut his face with lips that were full and soft. They were bruised dark pink, constantly slick and there was almost something in his mouth. He had huge eyes, wide, longer lashes than anyone had a right too.
He wore jeans that fit as though they had been painting on. They gave Bucky too good of a video of thin, long legs with a rounded ass, a subtle strength to his thighs that spoke of hours running. His shirts were quite the opposite. He always wore large, oversized loose hoodies - ones that never belonged to him. Bucky quickly realized that this boy stole clothes. Mostly, it were Thor’s sweaters. The two were close, a brotherly affection mirroring the one he held with Steve oh so long ago. They fit him like dresses, dropping to mid thigh, sleeves always rolled up several times if only to hit at his wrist.
Bucky sometimes wished the boy was wearing his sweaters - though he wasn’t sure of why he got the urge.
He just knew he couldn’t look away - couldn’t stop watching this pale beauty. The boy captured his attention, demanded it really in a way that no one ever had before. None of the dames before the war every got him staring like Stiles did. Bucky tried not to think of it, because when he was last really alive you didn’t do those things with other men. He knew it was okay now, knew that Steve was with Tony but Bucky? Bucky was still somewhat stuck in the 40’s. He didn’t know if he himself could be with another man, just knew that when Stiles was in the room, he couldn’t look away.
So when Bucky saw the boy in a dress he was confused. Well, he also hard , but that he understand even less.
Bucky, confused and dazed and flustered and aroused could only stare at the beauty before him. He didn’t understand what he was seeing. Stiles, pale and long and beautiful looked even more of all those things. The dress had thin straps, the cut low and v, trailing to the middle of his chest and exposing smooth lines of muscle detention. It floated to the floor, soft and elegant in a way he had never saw the boy. It was the most skin he’d ever seen, really. There was a subtle darkness around eyes made them look bigger. The boys lips were pink and Bucky wanted to bite into them. Hell, Bucky wanted to bite into all of him. Mark the pale skin, make sure everyone knew that
beautiful, beautiful boy was his .
He hadn’t even realized he had been walking closer until Stiles placed a gentle hand to his chest, running it upwards to cup his neck, his cheek. Bucky whined into the contact, having to close his eyes else he cum right there. The boy snickered, stepping even closer, bodies flushed together. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know if he could control himself.
When Bucky came back into focus, he was rutting against a thigh, hands pulling sharply at the boys hair. He leaned forward, latching himself to the boy’s neck, biting, sucking. Claiming. The boy moaned then, a high breathy noise that had the man spilling in his trousers, already embarrassed.
“You’re so hot.” Stiles breathed against his lips - and well Bucky was still to cum-drunk to really answer, just placed a soft kiss against one of his marks.
Stiles just laughed, light and free and beautiful and soft . God, this boy was so soft. But he seemed to get it, just wrapped his arms tighter around the larger man and placed a kiss to his forehead, humming softly.
When Bucky was really able to think again he was even more embarrassed than before, tucking his face into the boy's neck so he didn’t have to face him.
“Go dancing with me?” Bucky finally asked, committing to himself to woo this wonderful creature.
Stiles just nodded, happy. Both of them, so happy.
And after that first date? Well, it didn’t really stop. Bucky took them dancing at least once a week, and sometimes that meant dancing in the kitchen because they didn’t want to go out.
And if after that Stiles only wore Bucky’s sweaters? And if Bucky started buying sweaters that were even a little big on him? And Stiles started to actually wear them as dresses? Cute stockings under the far too big hoodies?
Well no one was complaining.