Waking up alone is something that Bucky should be used to, but he isn’t. Even though Steve runs almost every morning, he’s always back in bed by the time Bucky wakes up. But this morning, when Bucky stretched his right arm out to find Steve amongst the sheets, all he felt was empty space. It makes panic rise in his throat even though he knows everything is okay.
He sits up, looking around the room. Steve’s running shoes are gone, which only partly settles the panic in his chest. He’s on a run. Bucky knows that.
When he glances far enough to the side, he notices a note left on Steve’s pillow. A short one, in Steve’s chicken scratch handwriting, telling Bucky he was going for a run and then making a quick trip to the facility’s gym. Even after all this time, Bucky isn’t used to living in a facility among the same people he’d been fighting against only recently. It’s still a bit odd to be alone with Tony Stark, sometimes.
Nevertheless, Bucky climbs out of bed and pulls on some clothes, venturing out of their shared bedroom. The clock on the wall reads 8:13am, which is usually too early for anyone other than Steve and Natasha to be awake. And Steve is usually done with his run by 7:30am, so he figures that maybe he’s done with his workout too, and is in the kitchen eating breakfast.
When he steps into the kitchen, however, he only finds Natasha and Bruce. “Good morning,” Bruce nods, and Bucky offers a small smile. “Looking for Steve?”
“No,” Bucky lies. He doesn’t want to look dependent, or like he doesn’t feel comfortable among the people he lives with. “I was just getting some breakfast.”
“I made some banana pancakes,” Bruce says, and Bucky’s eyes lands on the plate of them. “Feel free to help yourself. Nat says they’re not that good.”
Bucky shrugs, “Probably better than anything we had for breakfast in the 40s. We used to boil everything.”
“So Steve tells us,” Nat interjects, her lips perched at the edge of her coffee mug. “Let me guess, it’s also nice to live without polio?”
“That was more of a Steve problem. I think he got pneumonia a total of 8 times while I knew him. He was always pretty sickly. You’d hardly recognize him.” It comes out more nostalgic than Bucky intends it to.
He can feel Nat’s eyes on him. “Is it weird seeing him like this now?”
“Sometimes,” Bucky admits, taking a single banana pancake and eating it without any syrup on it. It’s a habit he picked up during the depression, when pancakes were fairly easy to come by, but syrup wasn’t. “He’s still my Steve though. I even caught him drawing the other day, which was kind of weird, because his hands are so big now. He used to have dainty artist hands.” By now, Nat and Bruce are just sort of staring at him, so Bucky tries to change the subject. “You know he, uh, falsified like five enlistment forms?”
Bruce laughs, “Steve Rogers willingly breaking the law? I can’t imagine it.”
“I’m pretty sure he broke the law a lot,” Nat tells him, and when they start debating over it, Bucky makes his escape. He ducks down the hall, cheeks chipmunked with banana pancakes.
When he finally makes it to the gym, he can hear muffled 30s music coming from the other side. It makes him smile a little bit, remembering laying on the floor with Steve and listening to Sarah Rogers’ record player for hours on end. It got surprisingly hot during summers in Brooklyn, and there wasn’t ever much to do.
Bucky pushes the door open, and stops dead in his tracks as soon as he steps in. Sure enough, Steve is working out—shirtless, in tight gym shorts, doing pull-ups. There’s a few weight plates secured around his waist with a chain, and though Bucky can’t see the actual weight, he knows the chain is at least 10 pounds and the weights appear to be at least 70 pounds each. And Steve’s doing them with ease, only the slightest grimace on his face.
Of course, Bucky loses all train of thought. There’s sweat dripping down Steve’s torso, and his biceps are straining beautifully, and Bucky never gets tired of seeing Steve’s abs. Is it a bit odd to see Steve so huge now? Yes, as he’d said, but goddamn, it’s pretty fucking nice.
That’s not to say he didn’t like Steve’s body before the serum, because he did. He’s always loved everything about Steve Rogers, from his lanky body to his asthma to the way he always picked fights with people bigger than him. He especially loved that Steve didn’t choose the serum because he hated his body, or because of the bullies. No, he chose to be the test subject so he could join his countrymen on the front lines and do his due diligence to the United States. Bucky has received his fair share of strangers thanking him for his service, but hell, he only enlisted once. Steve enlisted at least six times. That’s six times the bravery that Bucky ever had.
Only Bucky Barnes could get so sappy while watching his half-naked boyfriend work out.
“See something you like?” Steve asks, dropping down from the pull-up bar and taking off the chain and plates.
Bucky nods, walking over. “I do.” He steps close enough to touch, and starts pressing his fingers to each of Steve’s abs. “1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 things, actually.” He slides his hands to Steve’s hips, feels the way they flex in response to his touch.
Steve laughs, wiping the sweat off of his face with a towel. “I worked hard for those. I’m glad you appreciate them.” He leans down to press a kiss to Bucky’s lips, but it’s much too short for Bucky’s liking, so he leans in for more. Steve laughs into the kiss. “Since when do you wake up so ready to go?” He pokes Bucky’s stomach and then backs up, grabbing a shirt that he clearly intends to put on.
“Why are you putting clothes on ?” Bucky asks, ignoring Steve’s teasing. “I enjoy this view quite a bit.” Steve rolls his eyes, dropping the shirt and flexing his biceps and his shoulders. Bucky’s mouth waters at the sight, and he reaches out to touch— Only for Steve to back away.
“No, no,” he grins, “you can look, but you can’t touch.”
Bucky groans. “Why? I just had to watch you lift an inhuman amount of weight while doing an inhuman number of pull-ups. Believe it or not, your body does things to people. Including me.” He reaches to touch again, and Steve lets him.
Slowly, Bucky trails his fingers to the waistband of the tiny shorts. He barely dips his fingers in, just enough to feel that Steve definitely isn’t wearing any underwear. He glances up just enough to make eye contact, and then drops to his knees. The floor is a bit hard and unforgiving, but Bucky doesn’t care in the moment. He’ll worry about any potential bruising later. For now, he’s much more interested in a different type of bruise: the type that he can suck into Steve’s upper thigh, just to feel him tremble.
He ends up sucking two love bites, one on either hipbone. After that, he pulls down Steve’s shorts just enough to get his dick out, and presses a kiss to the head before jerking it slowly, to get it fully hard. It doesn’t usually take Steve long to get hard, but he has amazing stamina. Bucky hates to chalk it up to the serum that the Starks gave him, because he hates thinking that the Starks have anything to do with their sex life; but he knows that’s probably why Steve can go for so long, have an orgasm, and then have virtually no refractory period. Not that Bucky’s complaining or anything, because he definitely isn’t.
“Jesus, Buck,” Steve sighs as Bucky starts licking stripes up and down the length of it. Bucky’s always had a bit of a gag reflex, so his blowjobs are more like handjobs with a bit of tongue and/or suckling. Steve never complains. “Someone could walk in.”
“Everyone’s asleep, except for Nat and Bruce. Nat wouldn’t work out in here and Bruce doesn’t need to. Now be quiet.” He wraps his hand around Steve again, and takes the head in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it.
The sounds that Steve makes are pornographic. They’re so hot that Bucky swears they were pulled directly from his newly-post-pubescent wet dreams, back when he was realizing that falling for boys was something within the realm of his possibilities. He always thought it sucked to have his best friend as the reason behind his sexual awakening, but hey, now something else of Bucky’s gets sucked on the regular—so it’s a win-win.
It’s only a few minutes of this before Bucky is sitting back on his heels, looking up at Steve with hooded eyes. “How much weight was around your waist?” He breathes.
“Uh…” Steve simultaneously tries to catch his breath and think straight, which proves to be very difficult. “315, I believe. Plus my body weight, and the 15 of the chain. So… Roughly 560 lbs total, that I was lifting.”
Bucky nearly moans just at that. “Fuck. I bet you could hold me up against the wall, fuck me for hours.” His dick stirs in his pants, clearly more than interested in the idea. He presses a palm to his crotch and resists the urge to thrust up into the feeling. “Wanna?”
Once again, Bucky nods. Steve laughs, but it’s short, because just as quickly, he’s pulling Bucky to his feet and bracketing him against the wall. He makes quick work of Bucky’s pants and underwear, leaving his shirt on for now. Steve gathers his hands under Bucky’s thighs and Bucky jumps, wrapping his legs around Steve’s waist. His 160 lbs is nothing even comparable to the 560 lbs lbs that Steve had just been lifting, but it’s impressive anyway, knowing that Steve can hold him just like this for hours without breaking a sweat. The same way Bucky used to be able to hold Steve, when he was 120 lbs on a good day.
Bucky reaches down to touch himself, and Steve allows it. They kiss while Bucky’s hand works himself to full hardness—he’s never been able to come untouched before, but part of him wonders if he’ll be able to do it today, with Steve fucking him.
Steve’s done it plenty of times when Bucky fucks him. They’re both vers, but Steve has a bit of a preference to bottoming. Just slightly. Bucky thinks it has less to do with the position and more to do with the fact that Steve loves watching Bucky lose his mind when Steve comes untouched.
“Lube,” Steve says suddenly, and Bucky groans, hitting his head against the wall. “Give me just a second, I’ll be right back.” He presses a kiss to Bucky’s forehead and then puts him down, pulls his shorts up, and darts out of the gym to get to their bedroom. Bucky counts the seconds until he’s back in Steve’s arms, held against the wall.
It’s 11 seconds.
When he’s lifted again, he’s almost immediately greeted by cool fingers running against his rim. Bucky moans—but not because of the feeling, it’s because of the realization that Steve is holding him up with only one arm. One fucking arm. One huge, muscly, toned and defined arm.
Steve pushes the first finger in without hesitation, because he knows Bucky can take it. In fact, it’s only a couple of moments before he slips in a second next to it. Bucky sighs with the feeling of it, not quite full but so pleasantly stretched. Especially when Steve’s fingers manage to hit the spot inside of him that makes him see stars.
“Can’t believe you interrupted my workout just because you’re horny,” Steve teases, and it’s insanely fucking hot how unaffected Steve sounds. He’s not winded, or straining, or trying to catch his breath. This is effortless for him, and Bucky almost comes at the thought.
“This is a good workout. Studies show that having sex for half an hour can burn 144 calories. It’s quite the cardio. Fuck, shit, right there.” He grips Steve’s shoulders, trying to work himself back on Steve’s fingers. “Not to mention—fuck—it helps fight prostate cancer.”
At that, Steve pushes in a third finger. They’re not as deep anymore, but Bucky can feel the stretch of them. He could probably come like this, but he wants to come on Steve’s dick, so he squeezes the base of his own and tries to stave off his orgasm.
“Ready?” Steve asks, and Bucky nods. The loss of Steve’s fingers is enough to make Bucky whine, but it’s quickly replaced by the feeling of the blunt head of Steve’s dick against his hole, and Bucky wants. The first push in nearly makes him come, so he has to squeeze his dick harder. “Gonna come? It’s okay, let go.”
Bucky shakes his head. “No. No, I’m okay. Just keep going.” But instead of Steve pushing in more, he feels Steve’s hand rubbing the head of Bucky’s dick in slow circles, and he moans brokenly. He wants to tell Steve to stop touching him like that so he can be fucked before he comes, but then Steve slams into him, and Bucky’s surprised he doesn’t come.
Steve sets a brutal pace after that, gripping Bucky’s hips and rocking up into him. Bucky’s only barely down from the edge, so he leaves his dick alone, letting it sit between them and beg for attention. He doesn’t want to give it any. He wants to see if he can make Steve lose his mind the way Steve makes him lose his.
He digs his nails into Steve’s shoulders, feeling nothing but pure muscle under his fingertips. Bucky knows he’s pretty in shape, but Steve’s body is out of this fucking world. He loves Steve, serum or not, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t thoroughly enjoy seeing his boyfriend effortlessly look and act like a bodybuilder.
“What happened to the little kid who couldn’t even do one push-up?” Bucky breathes out, leaning forward to tuck his head into the junction between Steve’s neck and shoulder. “Feels good.”
“Let me just—” Steve makes an aborted motion to reach between them and grab Bucky’s dick, but Bucky bats his hand away.
“No, I can- I can come. Like this. I can come like this.”
Steve’s eyes widen slightly, and then he goes harder. Bucky didn’t even know it was possible to go harder. He bites Steve’s shoulder to keep his loudest moans at bay, wrapping his arms around Steve to keep himself tethered to something. Steve’s hands go to his ass, pulling it apart and going harder, harder, harder.
The first time Steve hits that spot inside of him, Bucky knows it’s over. He knows he makes a noise that will probably cause him a lot of embarrassment later, but it only spurs Steve on, so he chooses not to care for the moment. Steve starts hitting that spot over and over again, until Bucky can’t breathe properly anymore. He’s right there on the brink of an orgasm, so close that he almost says fuck it and asks Steve to touch him. But he bites his tongue. He knows he can do it.
“Come on, Buck,” Steve encourages, pressing little kisses to the sweet spot behind Bucky’s ear. They’re almost too tender for the circumstances. “Let go.”
“I just—” Bucky starts, trailing off in a moan when Steve hits his spot yet again.
Steve understands. “Let me touch you. It’s okay, let me touch you and make you feel good.”
“I can do it, jerk,” Bucky grits out. “Fuck, I’m so close.”
“Punk,” Steve laughs, and it’s really just bad luck that that is when Bucky comes.
Stars light up behind his eyelids, and he leans forward to press himself fully to Steve. His mind is somewhere long gone for the next few seconds as Steve’s thrusts become more erratic, chasing his own release. Bucky’s just coming back to himself, down from his orgasmic bliss, when Steve comes. Bucky takes the opportunity to watch Steve’s face, and it’s so fucking beautiful that Bucky’s dick twitches like it’s trying to get hard again.
“Fuck,” Steve sighs, pulling out slowly and then putting Bucky down.
Bucky’s legs wobble, but he tries to pretend they don’t. “What? Getting a little tired there, Mr. World’s First Superhero?”
“Tired? No. You wish.” He pulls his shorts back up, and Bucky follows suit. “You’re just bitter that you have to look up at me now.”
“That’s not true,” Bucky protests, thinking back to the five falsified enlistment forms and the serum that made Steve look like this, the serum that created the body that makes Bucky want to have sex where someone could walk in, just because he can’t wait any longer. He thinks of the bravery. “I’ve always looked up to you.”
Steve’s face softens for half a second, but then he’s playfully punching Bucky in the arm. “That was really cheesy, Buck. I’m surprised.”
Bucky rubs the spot where Steve punched. “First of all, learn your own strength because that hurt like a bitch. Second of all, if you ever tell anyone I said that, I’ll choke you. Not even Captain America is immune to my metal arm.”
“Kinky,” Steve winks, and Bucky just rolls his eyes.
“I can’t believe I continuously let you put your dick in me.”
“Fair enough,” Steve nods. “I can bottom next time.”