Steve woke up out of a dream--watching Bucky dance, wanting and wanting and not daring to take what he wanted--to find that Bucky had come home from his night out. He'd been dancing, of course, and brought the smoke-beer-sweat smell of the dancehall home with him, which explained the dream.
Steve was awake now, and Bucky had come home to him, to their bed. That meant Steve didn't have to just watch now.
Bucky was sleeping on his belly, his face tucked into the pillow. He'd stripped to his skin, and enough light leaked past the curtains to make him a chiaroscuro, all pale highlights and deep shadows.
Steve didn't want to draw him, though. He didn't want to be that far away, didn't want to give anyone--even Bucky--the chance to see what Steve was seeing right now. This was his alone. Right now, in the middle of the night, in their bed, Bucky was his alone, and Steve could have him if he wanted.
He definitely wanted.
Like this, for this moment, Bucky was defenseless, helpless. Steve was stronger than him right now--not because Bucky let him be, but because he really was as long as Bucky was asleep. His dick stiffened and he felt the same dangerous, guilty thrill as he always did when he set out to do something like this with Bucky. There was such a fine line between what he wanted--what Bucky wanted--and the kind of bullying and cruelty that Steve abhorred. But walking that line made him feel alive in a way that nothing else did, and now, with Bucky so truly given up to him, it was too heady a thought to resist.
He kept his movements slow and smooth, sliding over and onto Bucky, planting his hands on Bucky's shoulders to keep him still. He nuzzled into the nape of Bucky's neck, smelling the last of the hair tonic that he hadn't sweated out. Steve's hips settled onto the plush curve of Bucky's ass, his dick nestling into the shadowed cleft.
Bucky moaned a little under him, spreading his legs wider, and Steve felt that first giddy thrill of getting it right. Bucky liked it; Bucky wanted it. Bucky wanted him. None of the girls he'd been out dancing with did this for him, and he couldn't mistake Steve for any of them now.
Steve slid his hand under Bucky's throat, curling his hand gently around it so he could feel the vibration when Bucky moaned again. He scraped his teeth over the ridge of Bucky's spine, making Bucky squirm under him, and that gave him an excuse to tighten his grip on Bucky's throat.
"Be still for me, pal," Steve murmured. "It's late, you oughta be sleeping. You just stay nice and sleepy for me, huh? That's all you need to do."
He felt the shudder that passed through Bucky from head to toe at that, felt the way his body tensed before he let himself go soft and still under Steve. It wasn't always easy for Bucky to give himself up, but they both liked it that way.
"That's right," Steve murmured, giving him a little nip just below his hairline, just enough to sting. "That's it, pal. Stay right there, and I'll give you some sweet dreams, huh?"
Bucky nodded into the pillow, snuggling in. Not resisting at all now. Steve could still feel the little hum of wakefulness in him, but Bucky was giving himself up as well as he could without actually going back to sleep.
That deserved a reward, probably. Steve eased his grip on Bucky's throat so he could dig a knuckle into the notch of his collarbones, the one little spot that could make Bucky feel as helplessly choked as if Steve had a pair of big hard bricklayer's hands to wrap around his neck.
Bucky's hips twisted a little under him, and he felt the motion of Bucky swallowing, but he didn't pull away, didn't even pick his head up out of the pillow.
"Good," Steve murmured, rocking his own hips down. "Guess you really are asleep, huh? I could do anything to you now and you'd sleep right through it, never know until you woke up in the morning and saw the marks."
Bucky spread his legs a little wider at that, and Steve bit the top of his shoulder and thrust against him again. The head of his cock brushed over Bucky's hole this time, sweat-damp skin catching a little. Bucky swallowed hard against the pressure of Steve's knuckle.
"Or maybe you won't see any marks," Steve murmured. "But you'll feel it, huh? You'll wake up and feel where I've been."
He took his hand out from under Bucky's throat and spit a couple of times into his palm. That was all it would take, when Bucky was nice and relaxed and ready, and Steve wasn't going to last all that long anyhow. He slicked himself up, lingering over it just because for once it was quiet enough to hear the little wet sounds it made. Bucky squirmed a little more and then stilled, trying to be good, and Steve's heart clenched and his dick throbbed.
That was enough waiting, then. The whole point of this was that he didn't have to wait.
Steve pressed his forehead down between Bucky's shoulder blades and got a hand under his hip to tilt his ass to the angle he liked. Bucky stayed limp, not resisting the tug but not helping, and Steve growled into his skin with pride and annoyance mingled together. Bucky was all his, to move however he wanted--however he could, with only his own strength. His own strength was enough here, between them.
He planted his knees and tilted his own hips, letting the spit-dampened head of his cock rub deliberately against Bucky's hole. The little furl of muscle twitched as he rocked against it, trying to open, trying to draw him in. When he lined up properly and pushed, Bucky shivered all over, and Steve closed his teeth on Bucky's skin, biting down just enough to sting. Bucky let out a muffled breath just as Steve pushed inside, the tight clutching heat of Bucky's body parting to take his cock.
Steve let up the bite and breathed deep as he slid inside, his cock squeezed tight as he pushed deeper inside. He and Bucky were entirely joined then, his whole body plastered flat against Bucky's; he could feel every little secret squeeze of muscle inside Bucky, the heat of his skin and the laxity of his body as Bucky feigned sleep for him.
Steve sucked at the place he'd bitten as he started to move in unhurried little thrusts, luxuriating in Bucky's body, the way he could if not even Bucky were watching, as if he really only had to please himself here in the dark.
"Mmm, you feel so good." Steve let his movements rock down to stillness, rubbing his cheek against Bucky's spine. "Maybe I'll just sleep too, huh? Just like this, right here with my cock inside you."
That made Bucky squirm a little, but he didn't tense up or push back, didn't try to prod Steve onward. He would let Steve do it, if that was what he wanted, let him stay right here all night. He was Steve's, to do with what he wanted. Nobody else got this, got to be this close, got to have Bucky this still and quiet and pliant.
Steve wasn't that good at keeping still himself--even when he was asleep he couldn't hold still. Pretty soon he was moving again, thrusting into Bucky harder and faster while Bucky kept on playing at sleep for him, perfectly unresisting.
He could feel the fizzy tension building under his skin, down his spine and in his balls, as he got close, and then Bucky jerked under him, letting out a startled little cry. His head came up, and then he hurriedly pressed it into the pillow again, making an obvious effort to pretend to sleep, but Steve could feel the hunger in his body now. He meant to pause, to tease, to ask him whether he was having a scary dream or a nice one, but what flashed through his mind was, This is real. I'm not dreaming. He's mine, and he loves this too much to stay quiet.
Steve came with a choked cry of his own, fucking hard into Bucky in a last flurry of thrusts. Bucky lay still and quiet under him, but Steve couldn't miss the tension in his body, the need. Bucky was close himself, just from Steve using him.
He lay still for a moment, catching his breath, until he was more aware of Bucky's trembling than his own pounding heart. Then he rolled to the side, tugging Bucky with him. His cock slipped free, and Bucky let out a little whine; Steve grinned widely, and this time he managed to say, "Hey, honey, did I wake you up? Or are you just having a sad dream?"
"Stevie?" Bucky managed to sound almost convincingly drowsy. Someone who hadn't woken up next to him on and off since they were seven years old might have been fooled. "What're you doing?"
"Whatever I want," Steve muttered, tucking his face against the back of Bucky's shoulder while he curled his hand around Bucky's cock, stiff and pressed tight to his belly. "You just hush, I'll help you get back to sleep."
"Better'n warm milk," Bucky muttered, tucking his face into the pillow while Steve snickered and squeezed warningly on his dick.
"I said hush, Buck, unless you don't want help. I could just go back to sleep, y'know."
He could; it was late, and he felt all warm and drowsy, floating like he'd gone out and matched Bucky drink for drink. It was only Bucky's need keeping him awake now, the feeling of him like a dog straining against the leash, all quivering muscle. All Steve's, and he didn't even have to tie him up to keep him at heel.
He could tie him up, though, probably. Bucky might like that. Bucky...
Bucky squirmed the tiniest bit in his grip, letting out a fake yawn, and Steve nipped at his shoulder blade but also started moving his hand. It wouldn't do to really fall asleep by mistake, instead of as the follow-through of a threat.
Bucky let out a little sigh, relaxing as Steve's hand started to move, stroking him just the right way to get him off quick. He relaxed into that trusting limpness again, everywhere but his dick in Steve's hand. He knew Steve would take care of him, wouldn't let him down; in this one way, in this one place, Steve was the one who always came through when he was needed.
Sure enough, Bucky's breathing went almost silent, then stopped altogether, and after another few hard strokes he was coming over Steve's fingers. He went entirely rigid for a minute before he relaxed into boneless softness. Steve wiped his hand on Bucky's chest--earning a wordless sound, half discontent and half asleep.
Bucky made an even more decidedly discontented sound when Steve peeled away from him and tugged Bucky down to lie flat on his back.
"I'll snore," Bucky protested, sounding dopey and half-asleep for real now.
"Not before I get my kiss good night, you won't," Steve said, not managing to sound stern at all. But he did get his good night kiss, a whole handful of them, before he dozed off lying sprawled over Bucky.
Well, if he snored loud enough to wake Steve, he'd think of some way to make him suffer for it. They'd both just get a little shuteye first.