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Adrenaline Rush

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Bucky's been in the kitchen for approximately two minutes when he feels Steve press up against his back, and he lets out a resigned sigh.

"Steve, we gotta eat," he reminds his husband, trying to focus on the tomatoes he was dicing and not cut his remaining hand off. "We haven't had anything since yesterday."

Yesterday, when they were still on assignment and their "meal" was a couple of protein bars and an Up 'N Go each.

Steve hums, his big hands resting on Bucky's hips and thumbs rubbing circles in the thin material of his robe. "Can't help it, honey," Steve murmurs into his neck, pressing a soft kiss to Bucky's collarbone. The soft bristles of his beard made Bucky shiver. "You're up here in this skimpy little slip of fabric, all flushed an' pretty, providing for me."

"I'm making sandwiches, Steve, it's not like it's hard. And might I remind you, I'm only wearing this because I don't wanna walk around naked, and if I put on anything that you won't be able to take off within two seconds you'll rip it to shreds."

Steve kisses his neck again and presses his body closer, and Bucky groans when he feels the tell-tale bulge against his ass.

"Seriously, Steve?"

"What?" The picture of innocence, Steve thinks he is, even when he's sliding his palm up Bucky's bare thigh, past the hem of the robe.

"We've been at it like rabbits, how are you still horny?" Bucky laments. Objectively, he knows the answer to this. Steve on a regular day was horny enough, what with his non-existent refractory period and constant need to get his dick wet, but Steve, after he's been on assignment, without the possibility of sneaking off for a quickie and high on adrenaline, is an absolute fiend. Sure, Bucky likes it. Of course he does; Steve's not the only one who likes a post-battle fuck. But it has literally been over a day. Bucky is very sore and very tired and very hungry, and all he wants is a meal and a soak in the tub.

Steve obviously has other plans, since he's kissing on Bucky's neck and his fingers have spread Bucky's cheeks and are rubbing at his hole, and Bucky has to put the knife down as Steve slips a finger into his body.

"You're still so wet, baby," Steve groans, pulling at Bucky's skin gently with his teeth, and Bucky can't help the soft moan that comes out of his mouth when Steve rubs his swollen prostate. "So open for me."

"That's because you fucked me not an hour ago," Bucky says through gritted teeth, and yelps when Steve nips him, hard.

"Don't be a brat."

"Stevie, please, just let me make these sandwiches. We can go back to bed when we've finished them." Bucky knows he sounds a little pathetic, his voice breathy and whorish as he leans back against Steve who's not showing any signs of stopping the movement of his fingers, but he can't help it.

As if by some miracle, Steve slips his finger out of Bucky's body with a sigh, giving his ass a squeeze before resting his hands back on Bucky's waist. Bucky's hands are shaking as he assembles the sandwiches - lots of meat and vegetables in both, Steve needs his protein - but he manages to get them plated up without much trouble.

"C'mon Stevie, ya gotta let go," Bucky sighs, and Steve reluctantly steps away, allowing Bucky to grab the plates and walk over to the table, setting them down without much trouble. Steve sits down in his usual seat, and Bucky notes with exasperation that Steve hadn't even bothered to put on clothes when he came out of the bedroom.

"Are you gonna put on some clothes?"

Steve smiles innocently and grabs Bucky by the hips, pulling him into the V of his legs. "Why should I? It's only us here." Before Bucky even knows what's happening, he's been turned around and pulled onto Steve's lap, and he gasps as Steve's cock brushed against his ass through the silky fabric of the robe.


"What?" Bucky glares over his shoulder to see Steve's wide, innocent eyes. "We can still eat like this."

"You'd better not try and start anything before you've eaten everything on your damn plate, Rogers," Bucky grumbles, grabbing his own sandwich and taking a large bite. Steve kisses the nape of Bucky's neck before doing the same, and Bucky internally lets out a sigh of relief.

Steve doesn't try anything until Bucky's almost finished his sandwich, when Steve lifts him off his lap, pulls the robe up to expose Bucky's ass, and pulls Bucky back down, onto his cock. Bucky's still relatively loose and wet from the several loads of come still inside him, as well as the lube that's been very generously applied throughout the past 24 hours, but he still yelps and drops the sandwich back onto his plate.

"Steve, I swear to god-"

"I'm not doing anything," Steve says, as if Bucky can't feel his cock pulsing inside him.

"I told you to wait," Bucky hisses. He's hardly able to string two words together, but he's managing from sheer stubbornness, desperately trying to ignore the way Steve's cock is brushing against his prostate and how his own cock is tenting the robe, the silk fabric torture on the sensitive head.

"I won't do anything else until I've finished," Steve promises, and as if to demonstrate, takes a big bite out of his sandwich.

"Steve, I swear to god, this is so unhygienic-"

"Be quiet honey, eat your sandwich."

Bucky tilts his head back and moans shakily, both at the thrill of humiliation that went through him at Steve's words and also the fact that Steve gave a little thrust as he said them. Steve, the asshole, is acting like there's nothing wrong; he's just eating his sandwich happily, not a care in the goddamn world. Bucky lets out a shaky sigh and lifts the sandwich back up to his mouth, barely tasting it. He's finished it in a couple of bites, but Steve seems to be taking his sweet fucking time and god, Bucky's not gonna last.

"Steve. I swear to god."

Steve doesn't reply, instead taking another bite out of his sandwich. Bucky sobs out a breath and leans forward, putting his elbows on the table in an attempt to get more comfortable, but all the new angle does is push against his prostate, making him sit straight back up with a yelp.

It seems like ages he sits there on Steve's lap, like some kind of little cock warmer as Steve acts completely oblivious, but still giving little thrusts every couple of minutes (seconds? Hours?) that make Bucky's hair stand on end. Bucky shifts, just to try and get comfortable, but it feels so good that he does it again. Before he can get a good rhythm going Steve grips him by the hips, stopping his movement, and Bucky sobs.

"Can't even wait, can you?" Steve's voice is condescending, patronising, and it makes a rush of heat flood to Bucky's face.

"Fuck you, you're the one that started-" he cuts himself off with a yelp as Steve's grip tightens, almost to the point of pain.

"You're so impatient, aren't you, doll? Can't wait for me to finish, can't sit there like a good little cock warmer," Steve scolds. One of his hands slides up to Bucky's chest and dips in-between the folds of the robe, cupping one of Bucky's pecs and making him gasp.

"Steve," he whimpers, and Steve pulls him back flush against his chest, his hips rolling and working his cock deeper into Bucky's body.

"Y'like that, baby?" Steve murmurs, leaving open-mouthed kisses on the side of Bucky's neck and nosing at his jawline. Bucky moans pitifully and lets himself go limp in Steve's arms, his mind fuzzy. Steve starts massaging his pec, squeezing the muscle and brushing his blunt nails against the nipple, and Bucky pushes his chest into Steve's hand, his own hands gripping Steve's thighs hard enough to bruise. Steve hums and brings his other hand up, slowly opening the robe enough that it falls off Bucky's shoulders and exposes his chest, and Steve's hands immediately go to Bucky's now-uncovered pecs.

"Steve, don't tease," Bucky gasps out through the haze of fog in his head.

"'M not teasing, honey," Steve coos, rubbing Bucky's pecs and playing with his nipples. "Y'got such pretty tits, darl', I just gotta enjoy them for a bit."

Bucky lets his head fall back onto Steve's shoulder in frustration, moaning at every swipe of Steve's nails across his nipples and the way Steve's squeezing the muscles and pushing them together to form cleavage. Steve pinches one nipple and Bucky shouts, arching up and feeling Steve's cock move inside him.

Steve swears and stands up, holding Bucky so he doesn't fall, and places him chest-down on the kitchen table. Before Bucky can protest Steve's got a hand gripping the back of his neck and a hand on his waist, and he's pulling out just to slam back in with enough force that the table moves a few inches.

"Shit," Steve gasps, and Bucky can only moan in agreement. He was pretty much incapable of speech now, with Steve pinning him to the table with all his strength and slamming his hips into Bucky's ass with enough force that the sound reverberates around the room. The stupid robe is still on, by some miracle; it's bunched around Bucky's waist and the shoulders have slipped down to his elbows, but the front is still tied and the fabric brushes against Bucky's aching cock with every one of Steve's thrusts.

"Look so fucking pretty like this, Buck," Steve's growling in his ear. "This pretty little slip 'a lace doesn't conceal a thing, does it? God, baby, you're a mess."

And he's right, god, he's right - there are tears dripping down Bucky's cheeks, his hair came out of its bun long ago and is sticking to his face and getting in his mouth, there's a blush going from his face down to his chest, his nipples are red and swollen, and the tip of his cock is just barely poking out from the folds of the robe. He probably looks fucking debauched, and Steve loves it.

It was that thought that made Bucky shoot off like a goddamn rocket, sobbing through his orgasm as his cock twitches and spurts all over the table. Steve swears and presses his front to Bucky's back, his thrusts getting more desperate and sloppy. It's too much, so soon after his orgasm, and Bucky's squirming and crying out and loving every second, and then Steve is filling him up, white-hot spurts warming his insides and making him cry out in pleasure, and it's a goddamn miracle the table hasn't collapsed. Steve buries his face in Bucky's neck, panting softly as his cock slowly softens and slips out, making Bucky wince and a river of come trickle out after it.

"That is the last fucking time, Rogers," Bucky finally pants. "You're doing the goddamned dishes, and I'm going to have a long bath, and you're not allowed anywhere near me for the next three hours."

Steve chuckles and kisses the nape of Bucky's neck. "We'll see, sweetheart."