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Hands-On Research

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The library is almost always empty on weekday mornings— that’s why Steve likes it so much.

He can grab a table and focus, no distractions like TV or roommates or people watching.

Not that Steve minds people watching, but he has commissions to work on and whenever he sets up at a coffee house he ends up spending the entire time drawing the loving couple at the booth in the back or the person sitting at the counter with their brightly colored hair, piercings, and swirling watercolor tattoos or…

The point is, when Steve has commissions to work on, he needs somewhere as distraction-free as possible. Especially because his commissions tend to be incredibly boring.

But they pay the bills well enough, so he can work on his personal art in his own time. It’s not that bad, he tells himself, rereading the email from his latest client on his tablet. Just… boring.

There’s a noise from the table next to him, and Steve looks up.

“Fuck,” he swears under his breath. Distraction.

The guy doesn’t hear him, luckily. He just slings his backpack on the table, pulling out his laptop and searching for an outlet.

There’s a floor outlet between the tables. The guy bends over. Steve chokes.

Tight black jeans encase this guy’s ass like a second skin, thick thighs flexing visibly. How are the jeans not ripping???

“You okay?” the guy asks, voice gruff and quiet as he glances at Steve.

Steve waves a hand, croaks out “fine!”, and takes a sip from his water bottle. He smiles as best he can, trying to breathe.

“You sure, pal?” the guy asks, straightening and facing Steve. Goddamn, he’s gorgeous— his body is solid muscle, biceps bulging, chest wide and pecs straining at his shirt.

He has long, dark hair pulled into a sloppy bun, strands escaping to frame his chiseled face, some brushing the sharp edge of his stubbled jaw. His blue eyes are wide with concern, plush lips frowning at Steve.

“Fine,” Steve chokes out again, taking another sip.

Even though it can’t be more than a few seconds, Steve feels like the guy stares at him forever.

“Well, if you’re not, I’m right here yeah?” He gestures at his table.

Steve nods, not trusting himself to speak. The guys sits finally, opening up his laptop and getting to work.

Steve forces himself not to stare, to look down at his tablet’s now dark screen and his sketchbook of Boring.

Of all the tables in the library— okay, it’s a small library, there’s only two more pairs of tables, one in the kid’s section and one right in front, there’s a reason Steve sits here— why did this guy have to sit here??

Steve turns his tablet back on and tries to focus.

Within a couple minutes, the guy’s started typing furiously on his laptop.

Steve picks up his pencil and glances up from under his lashes.

Whatever the guy’s working on, he’s clearly very into it. He licks his lips, and Steve feels his cock twitch.

Nope, focus.

Steve looks down at his sketchbook again. He rereads the email for the fifth time.

The commission request is clear and simple, but he can’t make his brain work.

He just doesn’t care dammit!

He places the tip of his pencil to the blank page, and sketches out a line.

The guy keeps typing.

Steve can’t resist another look.

His brows are furrowed, and he’s chewing on that plump bottom lip. Steve wants to bite it for him.

Steve’s hand moves the pencil across the page without his conscious permission, adding another line. Then another.

This commission isn’t due for another week, Steve’s ahead of schedule. He can take a day off, right?

So it goes for another hour, Steve forcing himself to keep checking his tablet and keep up appearances even as he sketches out the guy’s face.

Whatever he’s working on must be a thousand times more interesting than Steve’s boring commission, because the sound of his fingers clacking across his keyboard haven’t slowed once.

His eyes seem to darken at one point, about forty-five minutes in, and he shifts in his seat but his typing doesn’t slow.

Steve stares hard at his sketchbook, trying not to squirm himself. The way this guy is so involved in whatever he’s working on is totally doing it for Steve.

As if the guy’s ass and legs and arms and chest and hair and face and eyes and lips oh God Steve wants those lips around his cock, fuck—

Steve hurriedly flips the page in his sketchbook and looks back to his tablet before he starts drawing that.

The sound of typing slows, then tapers off completely. Steve starts doodling random lines and shapes that amount to nothing just so he looks busy.

“Fuck,” the guy says, voice low and rough.

Steve can feel his heartbeat in his throat. Is the guy looking at him now? He can’t look up, he can’t be caught staring, the guy’s taking a break or whatever so Steve can’t get away with gawking at him anymore.

He darts his eyes up without moving his head, but the guy’s not paying any attention.

He looks almost angry, scrolling through whatever he just wrote.

“How does that work?” he hisses to himself, then abruptly stands up. The chair scrapes loud across the floor.

“Sorry!” the guy says, and Steve lifts his head.

“S’fine,” Steve mumbles, smiling at him. The guy grins sheepishly, ducking his head.

“You doin’ okay now?”

“Fine,” Steve repeats, wanting to kick himself. This guy is a writer for fuck’s sake, and Steve can only say one word! What the hell is wrong with him, why is he like this?

“Good,” the guy says, smiling wider. Steve opens his mouth, trying to think of another word— any word, holy shit— but he doesn’t get the opportunity.

“Would you mind watching my stuff? I gotta get a book,” the guy asks.

“Sure,” Steve says. At least it’s not ‘fine’ again.

“Thanks pal!” The guy turns quickly, heading off into the shelves. Steve watches him walk away without blinking.

When the guy finally disappears, Steve returns his attention to his sketchpad. He flips back to the previous page, the sketch of the guy’s face with his lips open and waiting.

Fuck,” Steve swears under his breath, flipping back. He looks at the nonsense doodles, and while no one else could probably tell, Steve can pick out the curve of the guy’s jawline, the arch of his nose, and those beautiful lips yet again.

Steve flips to a third page, but his muse is gone. He taps his pencil against the desk, then his lips, then the desk again.

The guy must be having trouble finding the book he needs.

His laptop’s right there, and Steve can see the screen hasn’t gone dark yet.

Steve’s pencil slips between his fingers and hits the floor, making him jump.

He stares down at it, resting between his feet. His foot twitches, knocking into it, making it roll a couple inches.

His other foot twitches quite a bit harder, and the pencil goes rolling in the other direction before coming to a stop right under the hot writer guy’s empty chair.

“Oops,” Steve says, a little too loud. Thankfully there’s no one to hear him.

He drops to his knees and crawls over, reaching under the chair to grab his pencil then looking up.

He can see the laptop screen, filled with words.

He can see—

Hot, thick cock standing tall…

Throbbing hole…

Licking deep into his mouth…

Ass opening so sweetly for…

Steve starts choking again.

He scrambles up, looking around and trying to catch his breath, but no sign of the guy yet.

He looks back at the screen, reads a little more, and feels his cock jump in his pants.

Steve sits down abruptly in the guy’s chair, scrolling up a few pages to the start of the scene.

”Fuck I want you,” Sebastian pants into Chris’s mouth. “I want you so bad.”

“Yes,” Chris sighs, “Sebby, please.”

“Can I taste you? Not here—” Sebastian squeezes Chris’s hot, thick cock standing tall between them. “But here?” He reaches behind Chris with his other hand, fingers delving between Chris’s firm cheeks to brush against his throbbing hole.

Chris keens.

Steve spreads his legs, trying to ease the pressure on his own suddenly very hard dick.


Steve freezes, hand still on the mousepad.

“What’re you doing?” hot writer guy— who was writing hot gay porn dear God— storms up behind Steve.

“Just reading!” Steve says, holding his hands in the air. “Just reading, I swear!”

The guy’s blue eyes are narrowed with anger, but he looks to the screen, where his words are untouched. Then he glances down, for a split second only but Steve catches him.

He looks directly at Steve’s crotch where even sitting his erection is visible, making the fly of his jeans bulge out obscenely.

“You like it?” the guy asks, smirking. Steve can’t meet his eyes.


“Y’know, I’m not supposed to let anyone read it yet,” the guy says. “My publisher wouldn’t be too happy.”

“Sorry!” Steve says, voice embarrassingly high. The guy lets go of his shoulder to pull around another chair, spinning it so the back faces Steve then swinging his leg over to straddle it.

“But I’ve been having some trouble with this part.” He reaches out, past Steve, and scrolls down to where he stopped writing.

“They’re very athletic, my characters. And my publisher wants that to come through in every scene, but y’see… I can’t get my head around some of these positions.”

Steve looks at the screen, then back to the guy, then back to the screen. “Okay?”

“Books didn’t help much either,” the guy says, shrugging. Steve’s eyes snap back to him. “Sometimes deeper research can be necessary.”

Steve will deny it to his dying day, but he positively squeaks in response. His dick leaks a little in his pants at the way the guy purrs the word ‘deeper’.

“The problem is,” the guy says, then sighs and drops his head theatrically. “I can’t exactly research this without help.” He blinks up at Steve from under his lashes.

Steve just stares, hands still held high and open.

“Of course, these are athletic positions, so I’d need a partner who’s strong—” the guy looks pointedly at Steve’s flexing biceps— “flexible—” blue eyes move to Steve’s trim waist— “and of course, willing.” The guy fixates on Steve’s crotch again before looking back to Steve’s face.

“I’m Bucky, by the way,” he adds as an afterthought. “Barnes. J.B. Barnes, if you’re interested in reading more of my writing.”

“I’m interested!” Steve blurts out. “Very interested!”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, smirk broadening. “In my writing or…?”

Steve opens his mouth, shuts it to clear his throat before choking again, then finally says, “both!”

The guy’s expression changes instantly, breaking into a wide, delighted grin instead of a dangerous smirk.

“Seriously?” he asks Steve. “I didn’t think that’d work! Oh my God, dude, I thought I could only pull something like that off in stories!” He starts laughing, a deep, rich sound, and Steve can’t help joining.

“I thought you were gonna punch me for reading your writing,” Steve confesses, finally lowering his hands. “I’m so sorry, really, I dropped my pencil and it rolled over here then I—”

“Uh-huh, sure pal, whatever you say,” Bucky laughs, waving Steve off. “I only would’ve punched you if you’d changed anything. But I’m not kidding, I’m seriously stuck on this and I could… Y’know…”

Bucky blushes now, shrugging as their laughter tapers off. “Use some help?” he finishes awkwardly, and Steve can’t help breathing a sigh of relief.

Bucky isn’t some suave erotica hero. He didn’t think his lines would work, and that’s why he was able to deliver them so smoothly but now he’s just as unsure as Steve. He’s real, not a character, and that realization lets Steve relax enough to make an attempt at Smooth himself.

“I’m Steve Rogers,” Steve says, no choking involved, as he holds out his hand for Bucky to shake. “And I would love to help you do some hands-on research for your story.”

Bucky cackles, standing swiftly and grabbing Steve’s outstretched hand to yank him out of Bucky’s previous seat.

The move pulls them close together, Steve barely an inch taller than Bucky, Bucky smelling of spice and sweat, strong body radiating heat through both sets of clothes.

Bucky’s eyes dilate as he looks Steve up and down one more time. Steve’s cock pulses and strains, thickening once again after awkwardness made it flag.

“Well, Stevie,” Bucky breathes, meeting Steve’s eyes. “Whaddaya say we take this research somewhere else? Like my place? Down the street?”

“Sure thing, Buck,” Steve whispers, tilting forward so their lips brush.

Bucky inhales sharp through his nose, leaning into Steve for a split second before pulling away.

“Gotta…” He gestures at his laptop. “Get my stuff first.”

“Wha— oh yeah!” Steve says, blinking three times in quick succession. “Me too.” He nods at his own table, sketchbook still open to a blank page.

“I’m not…” Bucky starts, frowning at Steve’s stuff. “Uh, keeping you from anything important, am I?”

“Nah,” Steve says, smiling ruefully. “I’ve been too distracted to get much done today.”

Their eyes meet again, making Steve’s heart pound in double time.

“Right. Well,” Bucky says, then they both rush to gather their respective work materials and shove them into their bags.

Steve can’t resist staring again as Bucky bends down to unplug his laptop. This time, Bucky catches him.

“I thought so,” he says. Steve blushes, and Bucky laughs.


Their bags thump to the floor, forgotten as soon as they get inside Bucky’s apartment.

“So,” Steve says breathlessly against Bucky’s lips as he’s crowded into the wall next to the door. “What positions did you need help practicing?”

“Picturing,” Bucky corrects, crowding Steve hard against the wall with his entire body. Steve grins and shrugs. Bucky nips at his lower lip.

“They’re really ridiculous,” Bucky confesses in between biting and licking at Steve’s lips. “I’m not sure they’re even possible. We could just have really good sex without risking our necks.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Steve asks, grabbing onto Bucky’s ass with both hands. “You should take what you need from me.”

Bucky growls, thrusting his hips into Steve’s and kissing him, deep and wet.

“What I need,” he says as he grinds his erection into Steve’s, “is to taste you.”

Steve whimpers and arches, meeting Bucky’s thrusts and squeezing his ass.

“Fine,” he gasps out, tilting his head so Bucky can lick hot along his jaw.

“Good,” Bucky says, dropping to his knees.

“Fuck!” Steve swears, swaying forward.

“That too,” Bucky agrees as he unzips Steve’s fly. There’s a damp patch clearly visible on the front of Steve’s boxer briefs, making him blush.

Bucky groans low in his throat at the sight, immediately fitting his mouth over the spot where Steve’s cock is leaking through the fabric.

Steve’s legs shake.

Bucky pulls back just enough to drag Steve’s underwear down, freeing his cock and balls. Then he pushes his wide shoulders further between Steve’s thighs, arms snaking around to lift and prop Steve’s legs on his shoulders so Steve is suspended, back pressing into the wall the only thing besides Bucky taking any of his weight.

“Holy shit,” Steve huffs, tangling his hands in Bucky’s hair. The hair tie snaps, letting the rest fall free, and Steve grabs on tight.

Bucky nuzzles into the crease of Steve’s groin, stubble scraping rough against Steve’s sack. His hands dig into Steve’s hips, and he shifts forward a little, pushing Steve’s back further up the wall.

“Bucky,” Steve whines, hands still clenching in Bucky’s hair, pulling at his scalp.

“I got you Stevie,” Bucky assures him, then opens those perfect, storybook style dick sucking lips to fit them around Steve’s leaking tip.

Steve keens, arching and pressing his shoulders hard into the wall, thighs pushing down hard on Bucky’s shoulders and heels digging into the small of Bucky’s back.

Bucky’s hands carefully hold his hips still, not allowing Steve to do more than writhe— which Steve is trying to avoid, lest he hurt Bucky or get dropped.

But Bucky’s grip is sure as he takes Steve’s long cock deep into the back of throat.

He can’t move his neck too much without straining, only a couple inches back and forth, so the back of his throat contracts ceaselessly around the tip of Steve’s cock.

Steve can feel Bucky’s tongue massaging the underside of his dick, the way Bucky keeps swallowing around his head, and realizes he’s way too close to orgasm far too early in this encounter.

Bucky,” he warns, tugging at Bucky’s hair and looking down.

Looking was a mistake. Steve’s balls tighten alarmingly at the sight of Bucky’s lips, red and swollen, wet with spit that drips down his chin and Steve’s cock.

“Bucky!” Steve says louder, pulling harder at Bucky’s hair. Bucky glances up, then presses down over Steve’s cock until his lips meet the soft curls at the base.

He gags a little as Steve shudders and kicks at his back before finally pulling off, hollowing his cheeks and sucking hard as he goes until Steve’s cock pops out of his mouth.

Steve risks losing his precarious balance to grab his own cock and squeeze, stopping the orgasm with seconds to spare.

“You good?” Bucky asks, panting and gazing up at Steve. His mouth, God his mouth

“Let me down!” Steve demands, twisting so one leg then the other slides off Bucky’s shoulders. He hits his knees quicker than intended, but that just means he can reach Bucky’s mouth with his own even faster.

Bucky tilts backward, catching himself with one hand on the floor behind him as Steve practically attacks him, licking his own taste off Bucky’s tongue. He moans and kisses Steve back for a minute, then pulls on Steve’s hair with his free hand.

“Bedroom?” he asks. Steve nods, straining against Bucky’s hand to keep kissing him.

Bucky growls, tensing his core to hold himself up as he lifts his other hand to yank at the back of Steve’s shirt.

“Bedroom,” he repeats, not questioning this time. He rises smoothly, using his strong legs to push himself to his feet, dragging Steve with him.

Steve stumbles slightly, leaning against Bucky, still seeking out his wet, hot mouth.

“Not so fast, punk,” Bucky whispers, shoving Steve back so he can tug Steve’s shirt up over his head. “Fuck.

Bucky holds Steve at arms length to look him up and down, the strong lines of Steve’s body now on display from his own wide shoulders to tiny waist.

“Yeah,” Bucky says, stroking his big, warm hands up and down Steve’s sides. “I think you can handle whatever I need.”

Steve wraps his hand around his dripping cock, pulling slowly and thumbing at the head.

“I could do this all day.”

Bucky snarls, hands going to Steve’s ass to yank him in for another brutal kiss before pulling abruptly away.

“This way,” he orders, jerking his head toward the hall. He turns his back on Steve as Steve rushes to push his pants the rest of the way off from where they’re bunched up around his knees, hopping awkwardly to remove his shoes.

Bucky strides toward his bedroom, tugging his own shirt up over his head as he goes. He hears the thump of Steve’s shoes, and Steve’s soft cursing, but doesn’t look back.

He pushes the door open with one hand, using the other to unbuckle his belt when Steve catches up to him, pressing the totality of his naked body against Bucky’s bare back.

His cock rubs against the seam of Bucky’s jeans, between the solid muscles of Bucky’s glutes, hands coming around Bucky’s torso to cup his pecs.

Bucky tilts his head to look at Steve over his shoulder, grinning.

“You wanna fuck me?” he asks, grinding his ass back into Steve. Steve whimpers at the feel of the rough denim against his sensitive, swollen cock. “Or d’you want me to fuck you?” Bucky grabs one of Steve’s hands, dragging it down his body and pushing it under the waistband of his open pants.

Steve lets Bucky guide him until he gets a solid grip on Bucky’s aching cock, feeling Bucky out.

Bucky is huge, hot in Steve’s hand, so thick his fingers barely meet around the shaft.

“Fuck me,” Steve gasps, squeezing as Bucky groans and thrusts forward. “Fuck me!”

“Sure thing, pal,” Bucky agrees, leaning back against Steve’s chest and pumping his hips into Steve’s grip. “But you gotta let me go first.”

Steve whines, giving Bucky another rough squeeze and stroke before complying.

“On the bed,” Bucky orders, stripping off the rest of his clothes as Steve rushes to obey.

Steve flops down on his back, legs spread wide, and watches Bucky with his tongue between his teeth.

Bucky hustles to shove his shoes and jeans into a corner, and grab the lube from his nightstand.

“Wait,” Steve says, and Bucky freezes. “Aren’t we supposed to be trying out certain positions?”

Bucky looks at him, frowning. “We don’t have to—” he starts, but Steve rolls his eyes.

“It’ll be fine!” Steve tells him. “I work out a lot. I run almost every morning, work on weight training most evenings, and—” Steve smirks at Bucky— “I’ve been going to a friend’s yoga class once a week for two years.”

Steve tenses his core, flexing to make his hips raise up off the bed, then his lower back, then his upper back until he’s balanced on his shoulders, hands bracing himself, legs and torso extended straight up in the air.

Then he bends at the hips, bringing his legs out over his head at a perfect ninety degree angle. He glances at Bucky out of the corner of his eye, grinning and licking his lips.

Steve spreads his legs.

Bucky drops the lube on the bed, ignoring it for now in favor of kneeling over Steve.

He looks down, meeting Steve’s eyes questioningly.

“This one of your positions?” Steve asks.

“Is now,” Bucky says, scooting forward so his knees frame Steve’s face and spreading his own legs wide so Steve can reach his dick.

He grabs the underside of one of Steve’s thighs and uses his other hand to angle his cock down, toward Steve’s open mouth.

Steve elongates his neck further, flicking his tongue out to lap at some of Bucky’s dripping precum.

“Fuck,” Bucky swears, pushing his cock slow and steady into Steve’s mouth then letting go so he can brace Steve’s back and Steve can reach around to palm Bucky’s ass.

“Smack if you need me to back off, yeah?” Bucky says. Steve hums around his cock in acknowledgment, then pulls Bucky forward so his cock enters Steve’s throat.

Bucky moans, leaning his forehead against the inside of Steve’s knee so he can watch the bulge of his thick cock in the other man’s throat.

Steve digs his nails into Bucky’s ass cheeks and spreads his legs a smidgen further, reminding Bucky of his own task.

Bucky finally looks forward, where Steve’s dick is hard and dripping down Steve’s cut abdomen, his balls heavy and swollen. Behind those, Steve’s pink, tight hole is completely exposed between his obscenely spread legs.

That’s his target this time.

Bucky dives right in, flattening his tongue against Steve’s hole and lapping at it.

Steve whimpers beneath him, teeth just barely grazing Bucky’s shaft before Steve sucks hard. Bucky rocks his hips gently, sliding his cock in and out of Steve’s throat, giving Steve just enough room to breathe in through his nose between each stroke.

Simultaneously, Bucky alternates licking broad stripes over Steve’s hole and sealing his mouth around it to suck at the rim. He pushes his tongue into the tight muscle, forcing Steve open for him.

Fuck Steve tastes good.

His hole slowly but surely loosens for Bucky, until Bucky can thrust his tongue in deep and feel Steve’s hot, trembling walls around him. All the while, Steve keeps sucking so sweetly at Bucky’s cock, letting Bucky deep into his throat.

Bucky digs his chin into Steve’s perineum, scrapes his teeth against Steve’s rim, and tongue fucks his ass at a rapid pace, his hips moving to match.

Steve’s throat contracts as he gags around Bucky’s cock, nails digging into Bucky’s ass, but he doesn’t smack Bucky away so Bucky keeps going, driving himself deep into Steve, filling him up.

He pushes his cock into Steve until he can feel Steve’s lips touching the skin of his groin then stops, letting Steve choke around him as he continues his relentless assault on Steve’s hole.

It’s less than a minute of holding his cock deep in Steve’s throat, his tongue deep in Steve’s ass, before Bucky feels his own orgasm approaching.

But this isn’t the position he wants them to end up in.

He kneels up, withdrawing his cock from Steve’s mouth even as Steve clutches at his ass, trying to coax him back. Bucky gives Steve’s hole one last, lingering kiss before pushing back from that too.

He’s still holding Steve’s weight, keeping him braced upside down underneath Bucky. Steve’s hole is wet and shiny with spit, visibly looser, while the skin around it is red and abraded from Bucky’s facial hair.

Bucky squeezes his eyes shut, taking in harsh, shuddering breaths to regain control before the sight alone makes him come all over Steve’s face.

That thought doesn’t particularly help his situation.

Steve smacks lightly at Bucky’s ass, prompting him to move. He carefully helps Steve lower himself back to the bed, then looks down at Steve’s face.

“Bucky,” Steve says, voice scratchy. His eyes are red, leaking tears that fall to the sheets. His mouth, cheeks, and chin are all wet with saliva, and he’s smiling blissfully up at Bucky.

“You okay, pal?” Bucky asks, maneuvering himself carefully so he can lay down next to Steve.

Bucky,” Steve repeats, rolling onto his side and reaching for Bucky.

Bucky goes, kissing Steve deep and sweet and slow, their bodies flush against each other, the skin of their strong chests sticky with sweat while their wet, leaking cocks grind together.

They let some of the desperation ease off as they make out, letting the quick blaze of their initial lust evolve into a slow, all-encompassing inferno.

Everywhere their skin meets is electric, making them crowd closer for more. They take turns sucking their own tastes off each other’s tongues, hands sweeping along wide shoulders, scratching down muscular backs, stroking hips and thighs.

Eventually, Bucky reaches for and finds the lube, popping the cap behind Steve and slicking up his fingers. He trails them down Steve’s spine as Steve shudders and whines into his mouth.

Steve hitches his leg up over Bucky’s hip as Bucky pushes his fingers down Steve’s cleft, seeking his hole. After being eaten out, it’s easy for Bucky to slide two fingers knuckle deep into Steve.

Steve breaks their kiss at the sensation, tossing his head back and moaning, pushing into Bucky’s hand.

Bucky licks sweat from the hollow of Steve’s throat, gently scissoring his fingers in Steve’s ass and grinding his erection into Steve’s.

“You ready for another?” Bucky asks, voice husky, teeth dragging along the sharp line of Steve’s collarbone.

“Please,” Steve begs, “please!”

“Happy to oblige,” Bucky murmurs, sliding a third finger deep into Steve’s hole, twisting and stretching the rim. As he does so, he shoves forward, slowly rolling Steve onto his back and following on top of him.

“You gonna want another?” Bucky asks. “Or are you ready to take my cock?”

“Your cock, please Buck,” Steve says, hooking both legs around Bucky’s waist and rutting up against Bucky’s taught abs.

“You sure?” Bucky asks, thrusting his slick cock along the tender crease of Steve’s groin. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Won’t hurt,” Steve assures him, cupping Bucky’s face in his hands. “Not bad. I like the burn.”

“Fuck, Stevie,” Bucky groans, pressing his forehead against Steve’s. “Yeah, okay.” He removes his fingers and kneels up, reaching for the lube one more time.

Steve watches him breathlessly as Bucky slicks up his thick cock. Bucky puts on a show for him, stroking himself tight and slow from base to tip, thumbing over the red, wet head, dipping just a touch into his leaking slit.

“What position d’you need?” Steve asks, panting, eyes fixated on Bucky’s dick, his own pulsing heavy against his belly.

Bucky freezes. Steve tears his eyes away from the beautiful sight that is Bucky Barnes’ really big dick, making eye contact.

“Bucky,” Steve says, voice hoarse. He clears his throat and tries again.

Bucky. You gotta picture it, right? For your book?”

“Yeah,” Bucky acknowledges, squeezing his cock but otherwise keeping his hand still.

“Well, let’s try it. What position d’you need me in?”

Bucky stares down at Steve’s face, searching for any sign of reluctance.

“I can do it,” Steve assures him.

Bucky snorts a laugh. “Fine, you punk. C’mon.” He gets to his feet at the end of the bed. “I apologize ahead of time if this doesn’t work.”

“Any position that involves you inside me works just fine,” Steve says, “just tell me what to do.”

Bucky grins, sharp and wicked. “Gladly.”

Steve shudders, his legs falling open wider for Bucky without conscious thought.

“Roll over,” Bucky orders. Steve rushes to comply, situating himself on hands and knees in front of Bucky while Bucky stands behind him.

“Like this?”

“Mmm,” Bucky rumbles, stroking the backs of Steve’s thighs, cupping his ass. “No. As nice as this view is—” he digs his thumbs in, spreading Steve's cheeks and baring Steve’s throbbing hole to his hungry gaze— “I think you should be flat on your stomach to start.”

Steve flattens himself to the bed, legs spread. Bucky grabs him by the hips, moving him so his pelvis is on the edge, dick pressed between Steve’s abs and Bucky’s sheets, legs on either side of Bucky’s waist.

“Will you be able to hold your legs up?” Bucky asks.

“Yeah, think so,” Steve confirms, squeezing Bucky between his thighs. “Can I put my feet down to start?”

“Sure,” Bucky says, “good idea.” He lets go, allowing Steve to lower his legs and brace himself.

Finally, he guides the head of his cock to rub against Steve’s loose, slick hole.


“Fuck me,” Steve says, thrusting back. Bucky pushes forward, watching closely as his cock penetrates Steve, opening him wide.

Steve moans into the sheets, his rim fluttering against Bucky’s shaft. “Don’t stop, Buck!”

“Wasn’t gonna,” Bucky grunts, working his hips in small motions, forcing his cock in one inch at a time.

He holds still once he bottoms out, letting Steve writhe and grind back on him as Steve adjusts to the immense fullness of taking Bucky’s cock.

“Damn Stevie,” Bucky whispers, pawing at Steve’s ass, staring at the rim of Steve’s hole, stretched oh so tight around his dick. “You take me so well, doll.”

Steve whines, rocking his hips against the bed. “Not makin’ me take much yet,” he complains.

Bucky can’t let that stand.

He pulls out, leaving the throbbing head of his cock encased in Steve’s snug hole, before slamming forward, filling Steve up all over again. He fucks into Steve, hard and deep, as Steve arches up off the bed, hands reaching back to grab at Bucky’s forearms.

“Legs up,” Bucky commands, grinding his cock deep into Steve. “Bring your arms back the other way, like reaching over your head. Grab my arms.”

Bucky leans forward as he talks, moving his hands from Steve’s ass around to his hips, hooking his fingers under Steve’s thighs where they meet his groin.

Steve obediently raises his arms, reaching for Bucky’s.

“Just above my elbows Stevie,” Bucky murmurs. His hips are still flush against Steve’s ass, his cock doing nothing more than intruding, a deep, inescapable weight Steve feels in his gut.

“Like this?” Steve asks, wrapping his hands around Bucky’s thick upper arms as far as they’ll go, his own elbows bent at a ninety degree angle, spine curving to lift his head up off the sheets.

“That’s it Stevie,” Bucky encourages him, shifting his feet further apart and bracing himself. He tightens his hands on Steve’s legs, fingers digging bruises into the sensitive skin of Steve’s inner thighs. He bends his knees. “I’m gonna lift you up now.”

What?” Steve says in alarm, but Bucky’s already moving to raise him up off the bed. Steve squeezes his legs around Bucky’s waist, locking his ankles behind Bucky’s back, digging his nails into Bucky’s arms.

Somehow, Bucky lifts until Steve is suspended, not touching the bed or the floor at all. He’s completely at Bucky’s mercy like this, trusting Bucky not to drop him.

Besides Steve’s legs wrapped tight around Bucky, his hands digging bruises into Bucky’s upper arms, and Bucky’s hands framing Steve’s groin, their only other point of contact is Bucky’s cock, deep in Steve’s ass.

Bucky leans back, pulling Steve another few inches upright, then—

He can’t thrust fully into Steve, can’t risk his cock slipping out of Steve’s slick hole, but as long as Bucky keeps four inches buried in Steve he has another four to work with, thrusting in and out with brutal snaps of his hips.

The angle drives his cock directly into Steve’s prostate, making Steve howl. His back bends even further as he pulls himself up by his grip on Bucky’s arms, his neck fully extended so he can almost see Bucky above and behind him.

Bucky keeps fucking into him, all the while holding Steve in the air so there’s nothing that isn’t Bucky. He nails Steve’s prostate without even trying, his fingertips brushing the soft, sensitive sides of Steve’s sack, and Steve goes off.

He sobs out loud as his ass clenches down around Bucky, balls drawing up painfully tight, cock painting the bed in front of him. Bucky groans, thrusting faster into Steve.

Bucky doesn’t have the best angle to watch Steve shoot off, but he can see the long, thick white ropes of cum hitting the bed, feel the intensity of Steve’s orgasm in the rhythmic spasms of Steve’s hole around his cock.

“Fuck!” Bucky grunts, pounding into Steve with all his strength.

“B-B-Bucky!” Steve wails. All at once, Bucky feels Steve’s legs and hands go loose around him, and moves quickly to set Steve on the bed, just barely to the side of Steve’s spend.

“Turn over,” Bucky huffs, pulling out. Steve cries out as his tender hole clenches down on nothing. “Turn over!”

Bucky helps Steve roll to his back, then fits his hands under Steve’s knees and lifts his legs straight in the air.

“Cross,” Bucky growls, “cross your legs.” Steve hastens to obey.

Bucky wraps one arm around Steve’s legs, holding them perpendicular in the air just high enough that Steve’s ass is fully off the bed. He hugs them tight to his chest, reaching down with his other hand to guide his cock back to Steve’s fucked-out hole.

“This okay?” he asks. At the first tilt of Steve’s nod, Bucky slams back inside, burying himself completely.

Steve’s crossed legs make his hole that much tighter around Bucky, so tight he can barely move.

But there’s so much slick, lube and spit and precum, that Bucky is able to set up another violent, jackhammering pace.

Steve keens, his prostate getting drilled yet again. His cock, half hard, pumps yet more come up his belly each time Bucky bottoms out inside him. It’s like another orgasm, only not quite— Just nonstop pleasure, building and building past the point of release without pause.

“Fuck, Stevie,” Bucky grunts, hips slapping against Steve’s ass. His eyes are locked on Steve’s gushing cock. “You comin’ again?”

Steve can’t form words, tossing his head back and forth, hands ripping at the soaking sheets.

That’s so fucking hot,” Bucky growls, grabbing and stroking Steve’s cock.

Steve screams, tears leaking from his eyes, as all the muscles in his body lock up one more time before releasing. His cock throbs and pulses as his balls forcefully contract, emptying themselves until Steve’s coming dry.

“Fuck!” Bucky yells, slamming deep into Steve’s ass one, two, three more times before staying there, pumping his own cum into Steve even as it leaks back out around Bucky's swelling cock.

Bucky barely manages to pull out and twist around, dropping to the bed at Steve’s side, dragging Steve’s still crossed legs across his body as he hits his back.

They lay next to each other, catching their breath in silence, for multiple minutes.

“I can’t believe that worked,” Bucky says eventually.

“Didja get wha’ you need?” Steve asks, voice slurring. Bucky glances over at him, grinning when he sees how out of it Steve is.

Steve’s on his side, legs over Bucky’s waist, facing Bucky. His eyes are barely open, there’s semen drying on his abs and chest, and he has the softest, sweetest smile Bucky’s ever seen.

“Yeah, Stevie,” Bucky murmurs, rolling toward Steve to press their lips together. “I sure did.”

They lay tangled around each other in comfortable silence for another few minutes. Steve drifts, almost asleep, until Bucky speaks again.

“I just gotta write it down now,” Bucky says, and Steve can feel him shift. He’s serious, Steve realizes. Bucky’s actually getting up to write!

“No!” Steve says, grabbing for him. “At least shower first?”

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Stevie,” he says slowly, “if we try that in the shower, we’ll definitely end up in the hospital.”

“Ughh,” Steve groans, shoving at Bucky. “No! M’not ready for that— yet.”

Bucky snorts. “Whatever you say, punk.”

“Jerk,” Steve mumbles, pushing his face into Bucky’s neck.

“Seriously Stevie,” Bucky says, “I gotta get up and write it down now or I’ll forget.”

“S’fine Buck,” Steve says, “if you forget we can just do it again.”

Bucky rolls his eyes even as he nuzzles into Steve’s hair.

“After all,” Steve continues, words barely intelligible in his exhaustion, “practice makes perfect.”

(Bucky manages to doze and cuddle with Steve for an entire twenty minutes before he absolutely has to get out of bed and write, right now. Steve, an artist himself, understands despite his protests. He opts for a shower, which Bucky quickly joins—

”You wrote that awful fast.”

“I was inspired Stevie!”

“I’ll inspire you!”

In the end, they both inspire each other. Multiple times. Including once in the shower.)