It had been four months since Bucky had been assigned a room on campus, four months since he'd gotten so drunk at his first college party that he couldn't remember his own name, and four months since he'd thrown himself at a gorgeous guy at said party, then proceeded to vomit all over his shoes. It had been 3 months and 29 days since Bucky had met his new room mate Steve Rogers, whose shoes had still been stained with the contents of Bucky’s stomach. And he'd been low key in love with Steve ever since.
Not that Steve would have ever guessed about Bucky’s preference of wanting to see him naked, especially the way Bucky went out of his way to be aloof and distant since his gross misjudgment (and gross was an apt word). Bucky had pretended like the entire night hadn't happened, feigning an indifference and a 'black spot' of memories from being drunk. Which was actually pretty accurate, he honestly couldn’t remember much except a few vivid memories of retching and huge blue eyes widened in shock, before he’d passed out. Bucky was also ignoring the occasional image flash of pushing himself against Steve and attempting to lay the sloppiest kiss known to man on his delicious looking mouth.
It was fair to say that Bucky had also spent the last four months trying to remain invisible.
Steve thankfully didn’t bring up the evening that had gone down in Bucky’s mind as the most shameful act of his life, not after attempting to voice it once, where Bucky held up his hand to stop Steve, then disappeared into their shared bathroom for an hour and a half. It was hard to hide one room over and still retain some dignity. He wasn’t certain he had any left to lose anyway.
Truth was, if Bucky let his guard down for even a second, he'd be begging Steve to fuck him six ways from Sunday on every surface of their small room, but since he'd so spectacularly screwed everything up, there was no way Steve would ever contemplate taking Bucky under his huge body to make him forget his name (with no alcohol involved this time). Seeing someone vomit had to be a quick sure way to kill any form of attraction.
Then there was the added complexity that they were roommates. There had to be a rule against that kind of thing? Right? Bucky was telling himself that because the alternative was just sad.
No wonder Bucky never got laid. He was a disaster.
So instead of heading out that Friday night, when he’d been surprisingly invited to three separate parties across campus, he was setting up to study for an exam he had the next week.
He was also studiously ignoring the hunk of muscle on the other side of the room who was changing out of a t-shirt that was one size too small into a white polo that was two sizes too small. Bucky couldn’t stop the thick gulp he took, trying to get some liquid back in his mouth at the display of golden skin across a back so broad and shoulders wide enough to carry Bucky across a fiery pit of explosions in a warehouse if needed.
God damn he was thirsty. And he was unable to slake the thirst - because he was an idiot who couldn’t hold his liquor.
“Hey, you staying in tonight to study?” Steve asked and Bucky thankfully had glanced away before he’d been caught staring… lusting… salivating.
Bucky reluctantly looked back up from behind the mountain of textbooks, as if he’d not just been ogling Steve half naked a moment before. He then glanced at the huge thermos of coffee that sat next to the snacks then at his phone that was currently blasting his studying playlist, the word ‘studying’ clear on the screen.
Steve was certainly pretty, but sometimes Bucky wondered about his deduction skills.
“Err, yeah…” he replied, averting his eyes before they lingered on Steve too long, who’d now come to stand near him.
He really didn’t need to be caught gazing at his roommate again, although he was careful to hide any lingering looks, so much so that he’d become the Houdini of sneaky staring. It was a skill he unfortunately could not put on his resume.
Bucky wasn’t unpopular by any stretch of the imagination, he had a really good crew of friends, but Steve - he was out all the time, it came hand in hand with being a jock and one of the more popular guys on the football team. It wasn’t his fault Bucky felt off balance around him, ridiculously good looking men, who were built like a veritable wet dream and who happened to be nice were his achilles heel. And it wasn’t like Bucky was a nerd, nerd; he worked out, wasn’t small, liked sports, but not competitively unless you counted badminton, he took no prisoners when playing that, but as a science major, he really was a little bookish and quiet sometimes.
“Oh,” Steve replied, something a little off in his voice. But he didn't move, he continued to hover near the desk until Bucky couldn’t help but sigh and look up again, blue eyes already locked onto him. The white polo Steve had thrown on, made his biceps burst out the short sleeves, and the pair of low slung black jeans in conjunction with the small spikes in his hair, made Bucky shift on his seat. He would not get hard when Steve was less than a yard away. But it was Steve’s lips his gaze was drawn to; they were bright red, like Steve had been biting at them and Bucky swallowed a moan. Steve couldn't look any more like a frat boy cruising to pick up. Pity Steve didn't look closer to home for a hookup, the things Bucky dreamed about doing with him were filthy, nasty and god the thought of it turned him on more than anything.
Bucky took in what he hoped was not an obvious shaky breath.
“What is it, Steve? Did you need something?”
Steve looked taken aback at the unintentionally sharp tone and Bucky truly felt bad, but it was best he kept up the indifferent nature of their relationship, their civility and polite conversations with no more meaning than someone ordering a coffee at Starbucks.
He took another sip of coffee and looked back at Steve, swallowing down the apology that rose to his lips, and arched a brow in question. A moment later he wiped his chin, of course he’d dribbled a little of the hot liquid. He was decidedly not bringing sexy back.
Steve gave a small smile, no doubt thinking he lived with the embodiment of someone who could only barely function. He wasn’t wrong. "No, I mean… Nat's having a few people over, and some of us from the team are heading there, I wasn't sure if you're going, or would need a lift?"
Nat was one of Bucky's closest friends, she lived off campus with her boyfriend Clint, who just so happened to be on Steve's football team. The first time he'd seen Steve lounging in his friends house he'd almost bolted, especially as he was there trying to avoid his roommate. He was still getting used to the fact they had a shared friendship group. His safe space at Nat’s was now fraught with the potential for unintended boners, because Clint and Steve liked to wrestle - a lot.
"Not tonight, I have a trig exam early next week."
He leant back over his book pretending to be engrossed in triangles as Steve moved from foot to foot, and Bucky wondered if he had something else to say.
"Sure, I was hoping…”
Bucky put the pen down and looked up again, pushing a tendril of dark hair behind his ear and saw Steve’s eyes track the movement. God, he’d probably just smeared food into his scalp.
“Hoping?” Bucky asked.
“Yeah, uh, never mind.”
Steve went back to his side of the room, his shoulders appearing a little less broad, hunched in fact, then grabbed his phone then pressed the small square of his wallet into his back pocket, which did all kinds of things to the shape of his ass, then picked up his keys.
It took a moment for Bucky to realise he’d probably been a little too rude. “Thanks for the offer though. Of a ride.” He clarified.
He shouldn't have said a word, because Steve looked back and a smile as bright as any summer's day was directed at him and he was blinded for a moment. Steve was going to kill him, death by wanting, blue balls, unrequited pining. It was too much.
The wan smile he returned didn’t dampen Steve’s grin in the slightest.
“Alright, Buck, will catch you later - don’t study too hard!”
Steve was gone in the next moment, and Bucky took his first full breath in an hour. His head hit the desk a second later and he lamented the fact he was so close, yet so far away from literal perfection.
He sat up only to find a page sticking to his forehead. Why did life mock him?
The next morning Bucky woke up in his bed, which was actually a little disconcerting as he did not remember climbing into it. His shoes were removed and he was still fully dressed, but his head was cushioned on a pillow and he was warm, wrapped up in his comforter. His last memory had been blearily looking at his phone and seeing it click over to 4am, flicking his gaze to Steve’s bed that was still empty and trying not to wonder if he was ‘entertaining’ elsewhere.
With a heavy feeling in his gut he slowly spun in his bed and cracked an eye, only to let out a long relieved breath.
Steve’s shape filled his king single, almost imposing in nature and Bucky smiled and snuggled deeper. He had absolutely no right over Steve and what he did with his nights and who he spent time with, but he could hope and dream that Steve wanted to come back to their small room to be with Bucky. Even though Bucky once again had been nothing but awkward for 4 months. Surely Steve could see through all of that? He had to know that in his own embarrassed way, Bucky was reaching out to be friends, by acting weird, standoffish and curt - it was classic, ‘I like you alot’, just without words.
But, nothing explained how he got into bed, unless…
Steve would not have carried him to bed and tucked him in? That would be the bright red cherry on top of an already humiliating cake. Yet, there was something almost endearing about it, the idea of being nestled in those huge arms for even a moment, and that’s when Bucky’s mind went into overdrive.
Not only did he start thinking about those arms, that back, the thighs so thick he wouldn’t be able to get his hands wrapped around them, he began to imagine Steve dropping him into bed, then lingering to look down at him, pressing a kiss to his forehead, then his brain went white hot.
Bucky was hard, almost painfully, just from thinking about Steve being nice to him. It was wrong, but as he shifted in bed, his dick dragged against the heaviness of his comforter and he couldn’t help but let out the smallest whimper. Steve’s frame moved until he was facing Bucky’s side of the room, and Bucky’s heart raced as he bit his lip and went so still that his heartbeat drummed loud enough in his ears that Steve had to be able to hear it.
When Steve didn’t move again, eyes shut and clearly still asleep, Bucky exhaled through his teeth. He was not about to jerk off while the reason for his jerk-off slept only a few feet away.
Or could he?
No - no he couldn’t. That would be taking creepy to a whole new level. So instead he’d take it to the shower, at least he could pretend the inch thick wall was a barrier against his crushing obsession with his roommate.
But it didn’t stop his hand from edging towards his hardness, one or two strokes wouldn’t hurt, surely not? He slipped his hand into his sweats, glad he’d not worn underwear the day before, and gripped himself tight, almost brutal and only just swallowed the hiss. The sound that escaped him, not easily identifiable as pleasure. It was just on the cusp of pain. God it felt good.
A few deft strokes later and Bucky was fully hard and wanting to keep going, keep jerking himself until he came with a shout, allowing himself a moment of pleasure, of being fully in the moment.
A noise from Steve stopped his fantasy of coming in his hand in the comfort of his bed, and he stilled once more. A snuffle and another rustle later, Bucky opened his eyes to see Steve’s face completely out of his blankets, his features slack with sleep. Bucky was safe.
So he thought he’d push a little further.
So far he’d never done this, they were both guys, both with high sex drives, well he assumed Steve’s was. Bucky knew he’d be getting dicked down every moment if he could, if he didn’t have a hard-on only for his roommate. It was impossible to sleep with anyone else when all he saw was Steve when he shut his eyes. But he’d always confined his wanking to the shower or when Steve was out. He’d never tempted his more voyeuristic side by touching himself while Steve was right there. Facing him - even in sleep.
It sent a thrill down his spine so electric and he’d never been so fucking turned on in his life.
But it was wrong - wasn’t it? It felt so naughty, that it had to be and suddenly he lost momentum and sighed out loud, damn it, he needed to have a shower and just wank quickly, methodically and not be such a creep.
As he gathered his things and ensured he wasn’t pointing at anything when he walked across the room, Bucky saw Steve shift in his sleep again onto his back, and fuck. Steve was hard, so hard under his thin blanket and Bucky could see every mouthwatering inch and he almost fell to his knees to beg Steve a chance to show him how good he could be, how his mouth would be made for housing Steve’s cock, but he didn’t. He fled into the shower and came after only three jerks.
What the hell had he started?
“Why are you so jumpy?” Nat asked with a crooked brow, Bucky shrugged and pulled his jacket up around his ears more, trying to stave off the cold whistling through the bleachers.
He didn’t usually make a habit of watching college football games, even though he loved the electric feel of the crowd, the yelling, the passion and of course watching Steve run around in his element, all large and gorgeous and god-like. And that right there is why he didn’t usually attend. It was hard enough living with the guy, let alone coming out in public to ogle him too.
“Jock got your tongue?” She followed up.
“Nat.” Bucky warned and rubbed a hand over his cold face, his nose feeling like it was made from ice, he pulled his scarf up over his mouth and breathed into it, creating a meagre amount of warmth.
“You should just talk to him.”
“And say what exactly?” He asked, still watching as Steve made a pass, the crowd starting to stir at the play.
“The truth.” Nat said simply and stood up screaming her lungs out that she was going to kill the defender that knocked Clint on his ass. Then yelled at Clint to get up and stop being a pussy by sitting on his ass, and sat down neatly, and looked at Bucky expectandly.
“The truth hey? Which part?” Bucky held up a finger, “Hey Steve, the night I met you I got too drunk, because I wanted to ride you like a prized bull at a rodeo, but instead got nervous, drank even more then vomited on your shoes after trying to attack your mouth.” A second finger joined the first. “Or maybe, since then I’ve harboured a pathetic crush that’s only grown stronger after seeing what a great guy you are, but refuse to be your friend and get close, because not knowing if I have a chance is much better than a flat out rejection,” he was on a roll and a third finger climbed up, “I guess I could lead with, I also just discovered I like jerking off when you’re in the room because nothing gets me hotter than the thrill of being caugh…. oh fuck…”
Natasha had given up any pretense of watching the game and was now staring at Bucky, her face blank and her mouth slightly agape.
Bucky choked out a forced laugh, “that last one was a joke… clearly.”
“Clearly,” Natsha drawled, but it was too late, her eyes were sparkling and Bucky was eyeing the two exits off the bleachers and glanced behind him at the last resort of jumping over the top and falling to his demise, but would probably just end up with a broken leg and busted face.
“I should go.” He went to get up but the vice like grip kept him in place and he sighed, he wasn’t going anywhere.
“Personally, I think you should lead with the last point, you might be surprised at the reaction.”
Bucky pulled out his phone and pretended to check his social media feeds, his cheeks redder than they’d ever had been. At least his face wasn’t cold anymore, he was about to self combust.
“Right, a punch in the face,” he tried for flippant, it sounded a little forlorn, “come on, it’s creepy, right?”
Natasha hummed and then yelled out at the field about shoving a post somewhere where a post should never be placed, “okay, honestly, this is probably straddling the line of inappropriate, but no, I don’t think it’s creepy unless you’re standing over him, and I’m not about to kink shame if you like a thrill. You’re a guy, you jerk off, you share a room with somebody, it’s tough to find alone time. Go for it, hell, I’m surprised you haven’t been doing it together for months - don’t bro’s watch porn and jerk off together anyway?”
“If only…” Bucky said automatically and bit his lip as Nat laughed again, he may as well leave his foot firmly lodged in his mouth, it’s where he wanted it, obviously. But the thought of sitting on his bed, looking at Steve as he sat on the edge of his, both with pants down around their ankles, cocks in hand and watching each other as they stroked off.
“Oh come on! You’re thinking about it now?”
Bucky died, he honest to god died, “no, absolutely not.”
The laugh Nat gave him, and the side hug before she screamed blue murder at the field again made him fell less like a sexual deviant and more like the lovable friend who brought up improper topics at dinner parties.
Their team won, and somehow he found himself against the fence with Natasha as she waited for Clint to finish gloating. Soon he jogged over, helmet in hand, but he wasn’t alone.
Fuck his life.
Steve was with him, his stupidly huge frame jogging, all muscles rippling under the sweaty and grass stained uniform and Bucky lost the ability to think rationally, all he could think was, lick, suck, claim.
“Hey Buck,” Steve said with a big golden retriever smile, hair sticking up every which way and Bucky could smell him, his scent delicious and spicy and all male.
Bucky managed a grunt, unable to verbalise anything else, but when he saw Steve’s smile drop a little, he rasped out, “err, good game.”
The smile made a resounding return, “thanks, was tough there early on, but we got it back. You coming past for the after party?”
Steve looked so hopeful, and Bucky didn’t want to say no, but he had to. They weren’t friends, not like that. But, his brain supplied helpfully, wasn’t this a good time to try and rectify that?
“- probably not.”
“- of course he is.” Natasha said at the same time.
Glancing between the two of them, Steve nodded then clapped Bucky on the shoulder, “perfect, see you there, just don’t throw up on my shoes this time, I like my new ones.”
Bucky was left with his mouth hanging open, face blazing and Natasha doubled over in laughter.
He was never leaving his dorm again.
Bucky had exactly two beers from the keg, the slightly flat and tasteless brew sitting in his gut, that was now twisting in nerves. He’d arrived with Nat, Clint and Steve, and seen Wanda and Sam within the first five minutes, so immediately felt better that if he were deserted straight away, he had friends to chill with. But, for some uncanny reason Steve hadn’t been too far from Bucky’s side all night.
It was… disconcerting.
Mainly as they hadn’t really spoken, they were just near each other, within reaching distance if need be, and Bucky didn’t know what to think of it. The last four months had been stilted, awkward almost, but here they were at a party, not together, just close enough to keep catching each others’ eyes, and Steve had gone and made a joke about their first meeting. A joke!
Everything was a little topsy turvey and Bucky had no idea why it had suddenly changed, why Steve was making more of an effort, and more importantly why he was reciprocating to that effort. He didn’t want to be friends with Steve, he wanted Steve to own him, take him apart, to make him feel things deep inside, literally deep. So what was he doing?
He drained the last of his stale beer, he was going home - that’s what.
As Bucky made his goodbyes to a disappointed Natasha, who gave him a pointed look that he was ignoring, and waved at the others, he’d almost made it out the door when somebody grabbed his arm.
“You going already?” Steve asked, his eyes flicking between Bucky’s before dropping to his mouth, and Bucky sucked in a breath, but the room was loud and Steve would have looked at his lips to hear his response over the ruckus.
“Uh, yeah, just tired, gonna go and crash, watch some Netflix,” he lied. Bucky had every intention of going home and jerking himself stupid, before Steve came home. He needed it, he felt like he was walking on a tightrope, ready to fall either side in a splat of epic proportions.
“Hold up I’ll come with you, I’m beat too,” Steve stated, then yelled out to his captain, Brock, that he was off and grabbed his puffer jacket from the hook near the door. The glare he received from his teammate showed that it was not a good look that their star player was leaving early, it wasn’t even ten o’clock after all.
“Oh, no - that’s fine. You stay…” Bucky started, but was cut off when Steve clasped his elbow and pulled him out of the house. Well then, looked like they were going home. Together.
Shit , when was he going to be able to jerk off? A small voice piped up, sounding like the devil himself and stated ‘as soon as he got into bed and looked over at Steve in his’.
“Don’t usually see you at the games,” Steve said, interrupting his evil thoughts, as they started to walk briskly back to the dorms, it was cold out.
Bucky shivered and pulled his scarf tighter, “oh, yeah, I mean Nat wanted company, and I didn’t have anything better to do.”
The laugh was unexpected and made his insides swirl.
“Well, that’s a glowing testament of my skills as a player. Where’s your college spirit?”
“It’s usually drinking coffee and trying to get me to lectures on time if they’re before ten.”
The chuckle and the fond look he received made Bucky warm on the inside. It was nice, chatting to Steve, but he still felt like a fool. Then he tripped over a raised paver and fell flat on his ass.
The roaring laugh made Bucky look up with a scowl.
“Are you okay?” Steve asked between chuckles of glee, and reached down to help Bucky up and he slapped away the proffered hand.
“You’re a prick, Rogers.” Then gingerly stood up without assistance, testing that he’d not hurt anything, but it seemed his pride was the only casualty. Like usual.
“That I am. You’re a bit of a walking disaster aren’t you?” Steve responded with a cheeky grin and Bucky felt his stomach lurch. He was too much. He was also accurate as fuck.
They rushed the rest of the way, the chill in the air urging them on until they were back in the coolness of their room. Bucky turned on the small heater to get the space up to a temperature that was comfortable, and just about swallowed his tongue as he watched Steve shrug out of his jacket then rip off his jumper and t-shirt in one movement, leaving his back gloriously on display.
Steve looked over his shoulder and found Bucky staring, then he gave an impish grin, “I hate the showers at the field, I won’t be long - wanna watch something when I get out?”
This was all uncharted territory and different. Steve never asked to watch shows with Bucky. Bucky didn’t even realise Steve watched TV at all. Was he in a twilight zone, a parallel universe where they were already friends and not awkward roommates? Steve’s face turned into a frown.
“We don’t have to if you -”
“- no, uh, it’s fine, I’ll queue something up. Comedy?”
“Perfect.” Then Steve disappeared into the shower.
Now Bucky had options, he could queue up something on Netflix, or he could try and have the quickest wank in all known existence. Steve was usually at least twenty minutes in the shower, he knew this purely because they lived together, but suddenly he was glad to know that tidbit.
He jumped under the covers, shucked his pants and had his hand curled around his dick within five seconds.
And christ it felt good, too good already. He didn’t have time for lube, he just licked a wet stripe up his palm and went for it, jerking fast and hard and almost brutal. There wasn’t time for languid and slow.
He grabbed his balls in one hand, squeezing just how he liked, while his hand flew over his cock, the feeling building quicker and tighter and he knew he’d get there in minutes, he was so wound up and so close already.
Suddenly the bathroom door flung open and Bucky flew up with a gasp, one leg bent to hide his hardness, thanking the gods he’d thrown his blanket over his waist first. Steve hadn’t even been gone ten minutes. What the living fuck?
“Oh, cool your bed then?”
“Huh - wha?” Bucky asked a little disorientated, his dick throbbing against his stomach, unsated and so close to coming. His raised leg was doing almost nothing to aid him, the friction of the sheet, making him almost gasp. He’d been so close, so damn close.
Next minute Steve had climbed onto his bed, bringing his pillow over, setting himself up against the headboard, Bucky’s laptop in his grasp (with no Netflix lined up) and fuck , Bucky was about to watch TV, in his bed with Steve. When he was seconds away from blowing his load.
He’d never felt so alive, so electric, so damn heightened. He was addicted.
The large window next to Bucky’s bed showed their reflection and Bucky couldn’t help stare for a moment before pulling the curtains shut. They looked good together in the same bed, as small as it was. Bucky shifted over to make room for Steve and hissed in a breath, damn it , his erection was not flagging, if anything it was much more interested now that Steve was within reach.
But thankfully Steve seemed unaware of his plight, and if he had an inkling of what was occuring, he was being a perfect gentleman about it. Unfortunately.
In the end Steve put on a movie he’d been wanting to watch, it was full of explosions, quick wit, and action scenes, and Bucky found himself enjoying just being next to Steve, sharing space, and after so many months of being aloof, Bucky had realised he might have been missing out on getting to know Steve properly and the friendship they could have fostered.
He still wanted to be bent over and railed into next week by him though.
And when soft, even breathing came from Steve’s form not even an hour later, Bucky knew the gorgeous man was asleep, in his bed. Bucky’s first thought was to wake him and move him, but his second more nefarious thought was to enjoy what was freely given, a warm body close to his.
The movie finished, and Bucky let the suggested movie play without looking at what it was, and snuggled down, enjoying the moment. Even though Steve wasn’t in his bed for any other reason than to watch a movie, it was novel to have him close. Close enough to see how long his eyelashes were, they had to be fake - surely?
It only took about twenty minutes into the film when he realised it was softcore porn, not explicit, but enough was happening on screen to make Bucky shift in his spot, the ache deep in his stomach returning, and the fact he’d not come earlier and had been so close came roaring back into play. He was hard within a minute.
He couldn’t help it, it was uncomfortable and he reached down to his still bare cock and adjusted it into a better position. But Bucky didn’t remove his hand like he should, he didn’t have the willpower, his touch too good.
Bucky was going to hell, he stroked once quickly and when Steve didn’t stir, he did another one and, yes, he might be going to hell, but it would be the best feeling in the world on the way down.
He wasn’t going to jerk off properly, not until he came at any rate, that was something he couldn’t hide, but once more the thrill of being caught, of doing something that wasn’t quite… right, filled him.
He made another few rough and steady pulses with his hand, grip tight when Steve moaned and curled around, almost reaching out to touch Bucky right where his hand was wrapped around himself. It was too close a call.
The blonde’s eyes opened almost immediately and he hummed in question, startling Bucky with his instant alertness, there was no way Steve could have been awake, because if he had been… No, Bucky wouldn’t think about it.
“You fell asleep, you should go to bed, you had a big day playing sports,” Bucky decided teasing was the way to go.
The sleepy grin Steve gave, made him rethink his plan, it was sexy as fuck. But he didn’t move straight away, in fact it seemed that Steve was reluctant to move at all.
“Your mattress is nice,” he breathed and nestled in further, and Bucky was dying from the cuteness of Steve and the hotness of being hard, his hand still curled around his dick. Motionless.
Everything was jumbled and he needed Steve to move back to his own space, so he could quietly finish and go down in flames of shame.
Steve gathered himself up and slunk to his bed and fell into it, his soft puffs of breath moments later, telling Bucky he’d gone straight to sleep already.
“Finally,” he whispered under his breath, and that’s when Bucky did the thing he’d half promised he wouldn’t, just on the off chance he was being a creeper. But he was too far gone, and licked his palm again in the darkness of the room, and once more grasped himself and very quietly began to rub.
He was on edge almost instantly, and when Steve made a noise, which he knew was a snore, but somehow he heard it as a responding groan, he couldn’t stop and with deft sure strokes, Bucky was coming in his bed, cock jerking, releasing against his stomach. It was magical, it was everything and although it was wrong, he’d never felt so sated by his own hand before.
He heard a shuffle on the other side of the room and a soft exhale, and if Bucky pretended it was the soft sound of Steve coming too, well, so be it.
Twice more. Bucky had jerked off twice more while Steve had been in the room and he had to admit that he had a problem. He’d always enjoyed sex, his hand, who didn’t? But now it was almost a sexy one-sided game. Until that night
Steve had been late back from training, almost late enough that Bucky thought he might have been on a date afterwards, but when Steve slumped in, bag over his shoulder and a weary look of exhaustion in his eyes, he knew the coach had run them hard.
“Big session?” Bucky asked and Steve nodded blearily, then yawned. The room was dark except Bucky’s laptop screen which lit up his bed.
“Yeah, I’m so tired, but keyed up at the same time, you ever get that feeling?”
Bucky wanted to respond, ‘ only when I look at you’, but didn’t.
“I’m hitting the shower then bed, sorry, you didn’t have plans to have anyone around, did you?” Steve flipped the light on in the bathroom then looked back Bucky’s way. His frame taking up the entirety of the doorway, he was so deliciously large.
The chuckle that escaped Bucky’s throat, made Steve’s eyes soften, “pal, it’s after eleven on a Wednesday. I’m good - gonna hit the Z’s now anyway.”
Steve nodded, and Bucky shut the laptop and tucked himself down into his bed, bringing the quilt up to his chin, and it was only after a few seconds he realised that Steve hadn’t moved, was still watching him, expression unreadable as the light from the bathroom cascaded out behind him, hiding his features.
“Yeah?” The breathless response, hitting him low in the gut. He needed to get over this crush, this almost debilitating thing he had for his roommate. It wasn’t healthy.
“Try not to wake me up,” he ended up saying with a small lilt in his voice, indicating he was teasing.
“Sure thing…” Steve trailed off and didn’t move again for a moment, then suddenly he was gone and the door clicked shut.
Bucky through sheer willpower, did not take himself in hand, and just rolled over and tried to sleep, his mind replaying the strange oddly intimate interaction, though nothing had happened to make it so, it just felt - different.
Steve took his usual twenty minutes, only ever having a shorter shower once, and by the time Steve slipped under his covers with soft movements, obviously thinking Bucky was already asleep, he was drowsy, almost on the cusp of conking out.
Then he heard it.
The very quiet rustling of the quilt, had to be Steve adjusting himself, getting ready for sleep.
It was not.
Bucky suddenly had a first row seat to Steve jerking off. He’d said he was tired, so why was Steve moving around with vigour, a soft small noise escaping his throat from the other side of the room and Bucky was on high alert. He was so still he could have passed as a statue, he didn’t want to miss one second of potential sound.
Then he heard it again, just the smallest sigh, a hum almost, and then the sheet shifting across skin.
Holy fuck - Bucky was going to explode.
The desire to climb out of bed and offer to give Steve a hand was so intense and so vivid in his mind, that he clenched his fists until he felt his nails bite in, but of course, one of Bucky’s kinks was pain so instead of it grounding him, he found a small whimper rising and swallowed it down before it made itself known. He couldn’t tell if he was successful or not.
So of course, there was no way that Bucky could ignore what was happening, he’d in fact dreamed of this moment, albeit usually they were doing it together and aware of the other. But Bucky wouldn’t look this gift horse in the mouth, and slowly and as quietly as possible, he slid his hands into his pajama pants.
It was bliss, utter and absolute bliss, and he knew he wasn’t being as careful as he could be, but he honestly got lost in the moment, especially when he heard a quiet exhale as Steve said ‘yes’.
He would pretend until his dying breath that Steve had meant to say it directly to Bucky, because the thought of it alone, of Steve knowing they were doing this together, made his cock twitch out a glob of pre-come so large it coated his hand and suddenly he was sliding free.
Bucky moved in what he hoped sounded like a usual readjustment of sleep, and the changed angle afforded him the ability to reach down and play with his hole.
It was too much, and he felt the wave rushing for him, this time the small gasp wasn’t held to the confines of his mind, but he was gone, couldn’t stop if he wanted, and when he heard a rustling and another small breathless whisper which could have been a sleepy murmur, or a name, Bucky was coming; whiting out as he pulsed against his stomach, abs clenching as he held in his pleasure, trying so hard to be quiet and unassuming.
But then Steve came, with an almost inaudible whimper and Bucky wondered if his cock twitched in interest or if he was still coming. He desperately wanted to swallow the noises as Steve made them. Shit.
The next morning if there were more scrunched up used tissues in their shared waste basket, well, neither of them mentioned it. But Bucky knew his face was a permanent shade of pink and he couldn’t do anything about it.
He was officially in love.
“How about this?” Natasha held up a huge purple dildo and it almost flopped in half it was so long.
“Not thick enough,” he quipped back and she gave him a ‘bitch please’ look. It was thicker than his forearm.
How he ended up in a sex shop with Natasha after they’d gone out for ramen, was anyones guess. Apparently he looked peaky, like he needed sex, and if he wasn’t going to pick up, then she had options for him.
So far the options were too big and garish to consider. Though the purple dildo did have merit, he just wasn’t sure about having something so huge and obvious in his shared space with Steve. And that was the other issue. Since the night they’d jerked off together, without ever mentioning if the other heard, Bucky had hidden. He wasn’t proud of it, but everytime Steve came back from training or was hanging in their room, he had to go to the library, or meet a friend, or go out and just walk aimlessly in the cold so he didn’t have to look at Steve and his perfect face, and plump lips begging to be bitten, and those hips… the hips that could grind Bucky into his mattress for hours on end. His want for Steve had not started to erode, it was more present than ever and he had to do something about it. Just anything that didn’t involve actually speaking to him.
“Nipple clamps?” Natasha tried and Bucky shrugged.
“I’m not against them, just it’s better with someone.”
Natsha walked away, but her whispered, “you’ve got the perfect someone right there,” was not missed.
Bucky sighed and was about to ask Natasha to stop teasing him about Steve, because it wasn’t fair, when he spied something out the corner of his eye. And while she went to check out the lingerie, Bucky stopped at the huge display of plugs.
He adored the feeling of being full, open, ready and waiting - and even though he currently didn’t have someone regularly to keep open for, it was enticing. The idea of being thrown down anywhere at any time and being wide, loose and ready for someone (Steve) to slide in and pound away, was too strong for him to walk away.
He looked at the different sizes, shapes, and prices and finally selected a plain silver one. It wasn’t too large, but not the smallest, and therefore even if he did wear it and get lucky, there would be minimal preparation involved, if any. Bucky did like the tight stretch, the cusp of pleasure and pain riding him as someone pushed in.
Not even thinking twice, he purchased it before Natasha saw. He didn’t need her knowing exactly where his perversions lay. Though he was certain she did anyway.
He found her in the back looking at crops and whips.
“Why am I not surprised?”
She cracked a cane over her palm and gave Bucky a feral smile, “Oh, I like this one. I love those breaking noises.”
Bucky laughed, ‘will Clint like it though?”
“He’ll like whatever I do, and like it with a smile.”
Shaking his head, they spoke about the different items in the shop, and experiences they’d had in their past. He loved he could be so open with Nat, there were no secrets, except what he felt for Steve. No one needed to be privy to that particular shame. The old falling for your roommate scenario, and he had no idea if Steve swung his way, and if so, if he’d find Bucky attractive. Steve did have a bi-pin on his backpack, but that could be for support, they knew a lot of bi people after all. He was currently hanging out with one.
They got coffee and Bucky could feel the butt plug burning a hole in his backpack, he wanted to go straight home, knowing Steve was out then try and put it in, to open himself on his fingers, get really ready and slick and push it in snug. He couldn’t wait. But he had to act accordingly, not run off like a horny college student. The fact he was a horny college student, was not lost on him.
Finally he made it back to the room, and threw his backpack on the ground, taking out the plain plastic bag and looked at the plug properly. Now in the confines of his room, he felt his heartbeat ramp up, the anticipation of doing something different, almost naughty, of filling himself was too much. He ripped open the packaging and shoved it back in the unassuming plastic bag and threw it in the wastebasket, he then spent time cleaning the plug, learning its curves and imagining it inside of him. He was hard as granite and he’d not even really started.
Glancing at the time he knew Steve would be popping back in to grab his sports bag that was sitting in the corner, but then he’d be gone for hours. Bucky had nothing but time stretched ahead of him to enjoy the sensations he was about to wreak on his body.
Carefully he placed the plug in his bed, next to the bottle of lube and threw the covers up over it, so Steve couldn’t see what he had planned.
An errant though hit him, would Steve be into that, would he like to play, or was he vanilla through and through? With images of Steve placing the plug into his body chasing him, Bucky went to have a long, thorough shower.
At one point as he had two fingers deep inside of him, biting his fist to stop calling out, he thought he heard the door to their room shut and knew Steve had grabbed his football gear and left. His dick was red and engorged and he wanted nothing more than to come, and he honestly wanted to just let go. But Bucky was in the mood to edge himself, to make it last, draw it out, to make his body sing, since he had no one else to take control and do it for him. There was always the option for a random hookup, but Steve’s beautiful blue eyes and chest made for worshipping flew into his sight, and he was a sucker. He only wanted one man, and while he lived with him, sleeping with anyone else was an impossibility.
Once he was a languid steamy mess, cleaned to within an inch of his life, Bucky wrapped a towel around himself and tucked his erection up, securing it, and stuck his head out of the door. He was alone and Steve’s bag was gone.
Sighing, Bucky closed the curtains, noticing the angry storm clouds rolling in, the wind outside thrashing the tree branches by the window, and Bucky felt calm crawl over his skin. He adored storms and rain against the window. And with his ass full, feeling sated, he’d be sleeping well that night listening to the storm rage.
Grabbing the box of tissues, Bucky threw the quilt back on his bed, and there it was, his downfall and his salvation. He couldn’t wait, he was vibrating in need to insert it, have it pushing against his prostate and his dick twitched violently. He was more than ready.
Although he was loose from the shower, Bucky knew he’d need to work at his hole a little bit more before pushing in his new toy, but he wanted to be prepared. So he lubed up the plug in anticipation, enjoying the smoothness under his fingers, the way he ensured every inch that needed to be slick, was covered.
Wiping his hands on a tissue, he chucked it into the basket, noticing the inconspicuous bag hiding a very damning butt plug package next to the bin, not in it. Bucky was certain he’d put the rubbish in the bin, but in his excitement must have misjudged his shot. He didn’t blame himself for the lapse, he was on edge, needing this desperately.
Bucky lay down, wiggling to get comfortable and raised his knees, exposing himself and lazily circled his hole with his fingertips, letting them drag across the ring of muscle until he was a ball of need, wanting the fingers to slip back in, there was room, more than enough for three. His shower had been very… liberating.
He held off for as long as he could, which wasn’t long at all in the scheme of things, but technically he’d been waiting for this moment for hours. Ever since he saw the shiny silver plug sitting innocuous on the shelf.
The moan he let out as he pushed in deep, loud in the room, and he relished not having to be quiet, and as much as he loved sharing with Steve, he did miss having his own space to do what he wanted when he wanted. But he had time now, and he was going to use it.
Bucky pumped into himself slowly, then fast, then every tempo in between, trying to find the perfect angle as he continued to open himself up, he was almost ready, not wanting to be too loose that he couldn’t feel the entirety of the plug squeezing into him.
His dick lay untouched, hard and jerking every so often as he clenched, and he knew if he placed even a fingertip on himself he’d be gone, coming everywhere and all of the delicious buildup would be for nothing.
So Bucky continued to push and pull and expand his fingers, using more lube until he was a mess, glad he’d put down the towel first. Past Bucky had really looked after present Bucky and he was there for it. Self love was something he adored exploring, finding out what he liked, how far he could push himself, but he knew there were certain things he craved that only another person could give him.
Pinching a nipple hard, he came up off the bed, then clamped down harder and twisted. The filthy moan he let out into the room turned into a growl, he was ready. Past ready.
Grabbing the plug, slippery with lube, he checked it over one last time and with a suck of breath, he placed it against his rim, the coolness against his warmth making him shiver in both chills and anticipation. God, he wanted to be full so badly. But it was almost there. He’d waited patiently, played for a long time, had the leisure of drawing it out.
Pushing slowly, so very, very slowly, Bucky shifted, getting into a better position, the plug starting to flare out and widen him. The resistance wasn’t enough that he had to stop and loosen himself more, but the stretch started as the widest part of the plug began to press, and although Bucky was guiding it into his body, he wasn’t going to go easy on himself.
“Oh fuck…” he breathed as he hit the widest part, then left it there a moment. Inhaling shaky and he felt wide open, pulled apart, stretched to his current limit, though he knew he could take much larger, but this was new, this was an experiment. He fucking adored his plug already.
Then the resistance gave way and it was in him.
“Oh my god,” it was big, and pressed against his insides and he could feel it. He lay back, head pushed into his pillow as he breathed, and just let it be nestled deep inside of him.
Then he moved, and he jerked, holy shit he almost came when the graze to his prostate hit. So Bucky spent the next half an hour, pressing himself to the bed, grinding his ass to get the plug to move deep inside of him, to make it hurt and to make it flare up in pleasure. His dick was weeping, begging to be touched, but he didn’t, was reluctant to end the everlasting pleasurable agony.
Curling his toes up, he raised his ass off the bed and slid on the softest plaid pajama pants he owned. So overwashed they were almost threadbare, but they were comforting.
He spent a little time cleaning up and getting rid of all evidence of what he’d done, thrilled at the press inside of him that didn’t relent, but was starting to get used to.
Then Bucky climbed into bed, curled over, and moved every so often, just to know it was there.
He fell into an exhausted sleep soon after.
The crash of glass, the immediate wetness and the press of something on his body woke Bucky up hours later.
“Bucky, fuck are you okay?” Steve was suddenly next to him, a phone torch lighting up his bed and that’s when Bucky realised he was wearing a tree branch, and was getting soaked from the downpour coming onto his bed, through a now broken window.
“Yeah, I think so.” he replied disorientated, “what the hell happened?”
His brain was not working because although the light was dim, and something had clearly happened to him and his bed, Bucky could only see Steve in a very small pair of obscenely tight shorts. And he was standing above him, groin so very close to his face. Bucky shifted and gasped.
“Don’t move, I have to make sure the glass and tree hasn’t impaled you.” Steve was on high alert if the pitch in his voice was any indication.
Bucky couldn’t tell Steve the reason he gasped was not that he was injured, but that the plug had pushed up against his prostate when he moved, sending a shooting thrill up his spine. He felt his dick twitch in interest and he willed it away. He had a literal tree on him and he was getting wet. It was hardly the time.
“The storm is really bad, powers out too.” Steve said just as a crack of lightning lit up their room and Bucky could see clearly for a few seconds, his bed was bad, but also not as bad as it could be - he wasn’t impaled, not by anything he craved at any rate. Thunder blasted soon after and Bucky startled then moaned again. Damn it , who thought wearing a plug to bed was a good idea?
“The wind smashed the branch through the window, do you think you can slide out from underneath without getting cut? The glass looks to be all on the top of the covers.”
“Sure,” Bucky said and moved to the side, wincing as he did so, Steve grabbed his arm to stop him.
“You look hurt, where does it hurt?” His voice was still pitched high, and as Bucky looked up at Steve, he saw that he too was getting wet from the rain, chest glistening with it. Rivulets of water ran down his pecs and Bucky wanted so desperately to lick, and dry it off, only to get it wet again immediately.
Fuck his life, no , really fuck it.
Suddenly Steve began to run his hands over Bucky’s shoulders, down his arms and christ, he forgot to put a shirt on before he passed out. It was when Steve’s hands trailed towards his pecs and therefore his still sensitive nipples he moved back, hiding the moan the movement garnered deep inside of him.
“I’m fine,” he snapped and Steve took a step back. Bucky slid out of the bed and stood next to Steve surveying the damage. “Sorry, didn’t mean to, well, be rude. I just woke up wet, cold and feeling like a parrot in a tree.”
Steve hummed and gave him the side eye, Bucky saw his gaze move from his head to toes, lingering on his bare torso and it was clear Steve was still trying to work out if Bucky was hurt. If Bucky wasn’t so on edge and his desire heightened from the plug, he might find it endearing, but all the possessive glance gave him was the idea of throwing Steve to the ground and grinding on his dick until he came.
“Help me put this up,” Steve said, bursting the small fantasy that was playing in Bucky’s imagination, and passed him the large laminated poster of the football team that was stuck half behind the wardrobe. It covered most of the window, leaving only a small section bare, the wind whistling through that one space.
“Shouldn’t we call campus security?” Bucky asked.
“They won’t come, there’s too much going on tonight, but if we get this hole plugged up, we should be right until morning.”
Bucky tried not to visibly vibrate when Steve mentioned plugging a hole up, the meaning too close to home that he unintentionally clenched on his toy and had to shut his eyes a moment to calm himself. When he opened his eyes again, he glanced at the bed, knowing it wasn’t salvageable for the night. Even if they did remove the branch, and then manage to shake the glass off, it was still wet and Bucky wouldn’t be able to sleep in it. But he said nothing and helped Steve string up a sheet, covering the gap. It wasn’t perfect and the chill seeped in, but if the rain slowed, or hopefully moved directions, it should hold until the morning.
“Okay good, sorted,” Steve said and held out his hands in a well done type of gesture.
Bucky chuckled. “Okay Einstein, what am I going to do then?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well I can’t very well sleep in my bed, maybe I can call Nat -”
“ - no!” Steve all but yelled and Bucky looked at him wide-eyed. Steve ignored him and grabbed a towel, wiping the moisture off his chest. And for fuck’s sake, was nothing sacred ? The innocent wiping down was anything but in Bucky’s mind.
“Well I don’t see - “
“- you’ll sleep with me of course.”
Bucky’s mind blanked, “of course,” he trailed off, not understanding what Steve had just uttered.
“Perfect, well come on, you look cold.” And Bucky could have sworn Steve’s gaze dropped to his chest where his nipples were hard little buds, because, yes, he was freezing.
There was nothing for it, he trailed after Steve who climbed into his bed and pushed his huge frame up against the wall, all to make room for Bucky next to him. He held up the cover, beckoning him into the warmth and it was everything Bucky ever wanted and nothing at all like he’d thought.
As he gingerly climbed in, he jostled the plug and the hiss through his teeth sent Steve into alertness again, eyes pinning Bucky.
“You’d tell me if you weren’t okay, right?”
Bucky nodded, “yep.”
There was no way on the planet that Bucky was going to tell Steve he was full with a toy, that would be... what was even worse than mortification? He’d have to go into witness protection and get a new identity.
So he slid in next to Steve, trying his hardest not to touch, and it wasn’t until he was almost pressed up against Steve’s huge body that Bucky realised how cold he was. The immediate warmth of Steve seeped into his side and without even realising it, he started to shiver. And couldn’t stop.
“Jesus, you’re freezing, come here.”
And before Bucky could even form another thought, Steve had wrapped him up in his arms, pulling him hard against his chest. His naked chest, a chest Bucky’s own nakedness was now pressed against. Bucky had never felt anything as electric, and right before. The heat of Steve began to slowly infiltrate his cold skin, and just as his frazzled mind started to get used to having Steve so close, his scent discombobulating Bucky in ways unimaginable, Steve’s hands started to rub over his back.
He was torn between heaven and hell. Heaven at finally having Steve’s calloused palms rubbing over his skin, eliciting little shivers each time he rubbed closer and closer to the seam of his pajama pants and the plug which was nestled in him just below that. And hell, because it wasn’t in the capacity that Bucky craved, wanted, desired.
Bucky’s nose was pressed into Steve’s collarbone and he couldn’t help shuffling in closer, seeking the heat his body so desperately craved, and his lips accidently met the skin. Without thought he left the softest press with his mouth on the jut of bone.
Pulling back, Bucky was ready to jump up and make his way over to Natasha’s then look up the number to relocate his life to the other side of the world, when Steve’s arms tightened on him.
“Oh no you don’t, you’re not running this time.”
“Wha?” Bucky whispered not understanding the parcel of words, but before he could ask, Steve manhandled him into a position so his face was level with Steve’s, and he gulped. The charging dock from his phone let the smallest amount of light in the room and he could just make out Steve’s features. Darkened eyes searched Bucky’s face, and all he could think was how in love he was.
“What’s on your mind, Buck, you look serious?”
Panic and his natural instinct to flee took over, but he was trapped. Stuck in Steve’s arms. He had to say something that wasn’t about love or sex. He came up blank.
“Uh, thinking about how you're so warm - you feel so… solid,” he ended lamely. Bucky didn’t think telling Steve how he wanted him to split him in half, in the best way possible, was a good idea.
Steve chuckled and the deep baritone vibrated up against Bucky’s body, pressed together as they were. “Solid hey?”
“Shut up, I'm cold and disorientated, I did have a tree fall on me after all.”
“It was a small branch, and are you trying to say you wouldn't find me solid usually?”
Steve leant in dangerously close with a smirk on his face and Bucky shut his eyes against him. He was getting too close, Steve was teasing too much and it was doing things to Bucky, the hands on his back began to move again, this time Steve’s fingers touched the waist of his pants. The next pass, they dipped in a half inch. Bucky sucked in a breath, feeling himself start to harden. What the hell was Steve playing at?
“You're too cocky,” Bucky responded, the meaning clear.
“Well, you’re too sweet. Like butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth - but you're not, are you?”
“W-what?” Bucky stammered, feeling off balance at the lowering of Steve’s voice. He sounded like pure sex all of a sudden, Bucky’s heart upticked.
“Sweet, I mean I think you could be very sweet under the right circumstances, but there's an edge to you. One that no one else sees. It’s something… naughty.”
Bucky let out a very slow exhale, his heart racing, and he couldn’t help whisper, “and if there is an edge? What of it?”
Steve let out a groan, his eyes shutting for a second and Bucky was enraptured, “oh nothing at all. I like it, very much. I like you. ”
Bucky's heart slammed against his ribs into his chest almost painfully. What was happening?
“Is this okay?” Steve husked as he leant in and suddenly the meaning was clear, so very clear and Bucky could only nod in response, completely tongue tied at the turn of events.
“Use your words sweetheart.”
“Jesus fuck, yes. Yes, more than alright.” And Bucky was dead, gone and ready to be buried. The endearment was scorching hot, making his stomach turn into a quivering mess. He wanted to hear it again.
The moment Steve’s lips captured Bucky’s was nirvana on earth. They were soft and seeking, and when Steve opened his mouth against Bucky’s, the moan which tore from his throat was animalistic in nature and he pressed forward, wanting more, needing more. He could hardly believe he was there, wrapped up in such strong arms, being kissed by Steve Rogers, the most gorgeous man on campus, and he wanted Bucky, was touching him.
Their kisses soon turned messy, desperate, as if a dam had broken and they were cascading out through a crack, fast and furious and hungry to taste the other. The storm raged on, sleeting rain and thunder and flashes of lightning made the entire situation surreal and Bucky was floating. He was a live wire and every single wet movement of Steve’s mouth against his own made his cock twitch and he clenched on the plug, jerking into Steve.
“You’re gorgeous,” Steve murmured as his lips trailed soft kisses along his cheek to his ear, where he nipped playfully and Bucky shivered against him. Steve had it all backwards, he should be the one drowning in praise, told that he was beautiful.
When Steve’s mouth came in contact with Bucky’s neck, he licked with flicks of his tongue, leaving small bites, and Bucky couldn’t help it, he needed to get closer, needed friction, something . So he slung his thigh up over Steve’s hip and pulled them together. The first touch of their clothed dicks together was phenomenal, and they both stopped for a moment to appreciate the feeling of utter rapture.
“Fuck,” Bucky ground out, then pushed his hips forward and almost passed out. There was no way he was in Steve’s bed, pressed up against his hard cock, kissing him, being taken apart so sweetly. But he was, and he best make the most of it.
Steve trailed his hand down Bucky’s back again, leaving heat in its wake. But he didn’t stop at Bucky’s pants this time, instead, his hand slipped underneath the fabric, and pressed directly on the plug. Bucky’s mind turned to instant static.
“Fuck, I want you so much.” Steve’s fingers pushed on the outer edge of the plug, making it press into his body more and Bucky cried out. How did he know it was there? God, it was beyond hot, Steve taking control. It felt too good, and fuck, Steve’s fingers played with the exposed toy, flicking and twisting and pushing and Bucky tried to fly up off the bed, but couldn’t. Steve still had him trapped in his arms. He was so big. So strong.
“I’ve got you sweet thing.” Steve placated and Bucky calmed down, body thrumming and hard and on the cusp of something momentous. “When I saw the packaging in the bin, and heard you moaning in the shower, I almost slammed through the door and begged for you to let me put it in you, lube it up and spend my time making sure you were ready for it.”
“Fuck, you can’t just say stuff like that.” Bucky whined, and writhed against Steve.
“Why not? It’s true - you’re so fucking sexy. I just want to worship you, have for months now.”
Bucky’s mind flailed and he couldn’t think for a second, as Steve’s fingers teased around his rim, testing the plug and how much more Bucky could take. He wasn’t going to lie, he could take a lot, he’d also take anything Steve wanted to give him.
A hot tongue trailed kisses along Bucky’s neck, and Steve nuzzled, licking every so often, grinding into Bucky, all while his hand pushed and tested, making sure the plug grazed against his prostate every few minutes.
“Hearing you jerk off on the other side of the room, knowing you were touching yourself, trying to muffle your sweet moans. I couldn’t help it, did you know that I almost came with you every single time?”
“Oh, Christ…” Bucky hissed out and if his body wasn’t singing out to him in that moment, enjoying the way Steve was playing him like an instrument, he’d be embarrassed at being caught. But all he could think about was how fucking hot it was that Steve had heard, that he’d joined in.
Bucky was in bliss, his body singing out, he felt cared for, looked after and Steve was blowing his mind with the softness of his mouth and the firmness and control of his hands.
“I want…” Bucky tried to say, his voice getting lost in a roar thunder, “I...“
Steve slid up until his mouth was once again nestled just lightly against Bucky’s mouth, sharing breaths for a moment, “what do you want? Anything? I’ll give you anything you need, Buck.”
His insides turned to liquid at the words so earnest and truthful.
“I want you to fuck me, pound me into the matress until all I can feel is you.” Bucky was impressed he got a full sentence out that was comprehensible. He felt like he was talking with marbles in his mouth.
Steve didn’t answer straight away, just pressed his forehead against Bucky’s and for a second Bucky thought he’d asked for the wrong thing.
Lips then caught his in a tender, thorough and utterly devastating kiss, until he was a puddle in Steve’s bed, nothing substantial to his being except the pressure of a mouth on his, a tongue pushing deeply, sweetly into him. Steve’s arms tightened around him, as if Steve was trying to merge them together, and just as it became too much and Bucky had to break for air, Steve released him.
“I can absolutely give you that. You have no idea how long I’ve -”
Bucky stopped the words with a kiss, not because he didn’t want to hear them, he was excited, felt like they were on the cusp of something big, but Steve’s fingers had grabbed the base of the plug with intent and was fucking it into his body, and he couldn’t just sit there and listen to nice words while that was happeneing.
His kisses were sloppy and half hearted as he moaned and gasped, trying not to writhe, trying to be good for Steve, to let him take over. And Steve was stepping up to the plate beautifully.
Steve checked in with him, ensuring he felt good, his mouth and lips not leaving his body for long, and his hands - hell , they were magical, they knew exactly how to get Bucky gasping for more, moaning wantonly, begging for his cock like he would die without it. And when Steve’s hand landed squarely on his dick and started to stroke it relentlessly, Bucky arched into him, gaining a soft exhale of wonder from Steve. He needed more, needing to come, but also he didn’t want to end the delicious torture. Bucky was drowning in desire and if Steve didn’t slide into him soon, he would pass out. He was sure of it.
“You like being full, baby?” Steve husked into his ear before biting it lightly, pulling on the plug until it started to stretch Bucky.
“Yea… yeah.. I do, feels so good.”
Steve groaned and flipped Bucky without any effort, Bucky crying out at the sheer strength, as he was pushed to his stomach and Steve bent him, so his hips were positioned up, and next minute a cushion was shoved under him, grazing along his dick and he whimpered, he was so hard, his body thrumming, on the cusp.
Then Steve pushed his legs wide open until he was completely exposed, he felt shame and embarrasment start to swirl, but fuck it, he did not care one iota. He was chasing his orgasm, and all that mattered was Steve, that he was getting something from this, and judging by the soft words of awe and the worshipful way he touched Bucky, he was definitely getting more out of it than Bucky had first thought.
A soft light fell on the bed and Bucky realised that Steve had put his phone screen on, and made a noise of question, feeling his cheeks redden at the position he was in, ass up, legs spread.
“It’s okay sweetheart, I just have to see you. I need to see your greedy hole gobbling up this plug. It looks so gorgeous, your ass was made to be filled, and I can’t wait to get in there.”
The sound that came out of Bucky’s throat was not human, it was guttural, raw and pure uninhibited want.
He heard the snick of a lube bottle and Steve was pouring a liberal amount around the plug and began to play, to explore and Bucky lost all reason and time. He had no idea how long Steve prodded, pulled, bringing the plug almost all the way to its widest point, before pushing it back in, grinding it in place and the whole time he whimpered, begged, told Steve how much he wanted him. Steve’s warm hand on the base of his spine ground him, he was sure in the knowledge that he had him, he’d look after him. Bucky would not go wanting.
Finally after an age that still went too quickly, Steve pulled the plug completely out.
“I think you’re ready for me now, don’t you?” Steve’s voice, raspy in a way that indicated he was only barely holding onto control.
Bucky could only nod incoherently, out of his mind, words failing him. He was sweating, his skin hot and prickly and every muttered endearment from Steve was pushing him closer to an edge, one he knew that once he fell off, he wasn’t climbing back up. He’d be lost to Steve.
“Please…” he managed, knowing Steve wanted him to use his words and the hum of approval sent a wave of calm over him.
The rip of a condom packet, loud, but anticipatory in only the way a small crinkle of plastic could be, and then Steve was there, pressing against his loose hole. He pulsed in a few shallow thrusts, testing his girth, width and if Bucky was ready, and christ - he was more than ready.
Steve was a lot bigger than the plug and he lost his breath, couldn’t inhale, his lungs emptied as Steve breached him, sliding in slow, sloppy with lube, but also burning him with the stretch and fuck, it was everything.
“You okay, sweetheart?” Steve whispered as he lay across Bucky, kissing his shoulders softly, sweetly.
“Move… please…” Bucky groaned into the pillow and Steve chuckled, then started to fuck him.
Oh, but it was glorious, Steve’s cock was snug and the drag through his tightness, before slamming in at the end only to stop and grind deeply, circling his hips before starting all over again had Bucky wailing out, gripping the sheets in his hands uselessly.
Steve then sat up onto his knees and slid Bucky back onto him, impaling him, and started to thrust, deep and long, the pace steady, and Bucky felt the muscles in his thighs stretch as Steve continued to fill him.
It was better than his imagination ever had been.
The punched out gasps from Steve’s throat flattering, as was the litany of soft words, of how Bucky was perfect, that his hole was made for his cock, that he was never letting go of him again, had Bucky wondering if he’d stumbled into a filthy romance novel. One second being praised for his asshole and the next being told he was beautiful. But he’d take it, all of it.
Bucky was pulled onto his back, limp with desire then need to come, and his cock still remained hard and Bucky half wondered if he was too overstimulated to come, that he’d pushed his endurance too far, that he’d hit the next level where orgasms where only a concept.
But as Steve found his position, holding his dick in one hand, lining up and pushing in and out in short sharp jerks, Bucky sighed, letting the feelings build. He could see Steve’s face in this position and he was breathtaking. Chest flushed, nipples small hard buds and his abs, oh, god they were sharp and jutting out, working and rippling as he thrust into Bucky and that was when he knew he’d be coming and soon. He couldn’t look at Steve, be fucked by Steve and not.
“You close, Buck?” Steve asked, eyes hooded as he let go of his cock and let it slide in deeply, his pace starting to gain momentum and weight.
“So, close, want to come on your cock,” he husked, and that’s all it took.
Watching him, Steve took no prisoners, wrapping his hand around Bucky’s sensitive dick and pumped it hard. That in conjunction to Steve filling him, pounding into him - was enough to make his toes curl and the wave started right there, in his big toe and began to encompass his whole body. The tingles in the base of his spine made his arch up, the angle meaning Steve now hit his sweet spot with every push and Bucky was crying out, head tilted back, hands trying to grasp anything and suddenly one of Steve’s huge hands grabbed him, holding his fingers tightly.
Bucky came hard, harder than he’d ever had before, and as his come spurted in large globs onto his stomach and up to his chest in a never ending stream, Steve stuttered deep inside him.
“Holy shit, you’re fucking so tight around me…. fuck - I’m going to come…”
Bucky in a haze, watched entranced as Steve came, his mouth open, only the smallest noise escaping that large chest, his dick so deep in Bucky’s body, he wanted it nestled in there always.
How could sex feel so perfect?
“Stay,” Bucky said sleepily, indicating that Steve shouldn’t pull out, not until he went soft. He liked the idea of keeping Steve’s dick warm and safe inside of him. Maybe he had a possessive bent too.
“Of course,” Steve whispered then leant down to kiss Bucky’s forehead, snuggling down as much as he could, until he sighed, and flipped them completely in one swift movement so that Bucky was lying on top of him. Steve’s dick still snug and in place.
Murmuring happily, Bucky shut his eyes, hearing Steve’s steady heartbeat under his ear and although they were gross, Bucky’s come sticking between them and a condom that needed attention, he fell deeply asleep.
Bucky woke with a start and a mild panic attack. The room was light, but muted as the poster and sheet still covered the broken window, and Bucky looked at the tree branch that seemed so large the night before, but really wasn’t in the cold light of day. He also was clean, but naked and he had a huge forearm curling around his waist holding him tightly.
“No running,” Steve murmurmed sleepily into the back of Bucky’s neck and he froze.
Oh shit, he wanted to run, to not face the possibility of what they'd done the evening before was a once off. At least he didn’t vomit this time.
“I, err… I wasn’t going to run,” he said, voice telling.
“Liar,” Steve chuckled.
So Bucky reasoned if Steve didn’t want him in his bed, he would be kicked out already, plus he was telling him not to run, that had to be a good thing right?
“So… last night?” And Bucky could have facepalmed himself, he should have just let it go, see what unfolded, instead his innate need to know things, to have it spelled out for him came into play.
Steve stilled, “you don’t regret it do you?”
And somehow, Bucky relaxed, the tone in Steve’s voice so unsure, like he was worried he’d forced Bucky into the situation, and he found a dredge of courage from somewhere.
“I don’t think anyone in their right mind could regret what happened last night.”
He felt the shaky exhale on his skin rather than heard it and placed his arm over the top of Steve’s until their fingers were touching. It took only a second for Steve to entwine them and Bucky smiled unseen.
“I can’t believe it took a storm and a broken window to get us together, I've wanted you from the first moment you drunkenly came up to me - telling me I had soulful eyes and the most kissable lips in the world.”
Through the sheer utter surprise at Steve’s confession, Bucky felt a wash of mortification also flow through him. He was never going to live that night down. So he may as well address it.
“I vomited all over you, after shamelessly throwing myself at you, so I’m really actually terribly sorry.”
”What on earth for? It’s not the first time that’s happened at a frat party and it won’t be the last, but I’m so glad you did. Do you remember that we spoke for hours before your projectile crescendo?”
Bucky ducked his head, flashes of that evening crashing into him, he knew they’d spoken, but not for that long. “Oh, yes and no… I must have been awful. Slurring, repeating myself, being a pain, taking up all your time.”
“That’s not what I recall. I remember meeting a witty, fun, gorgeous guy who made me laugh, who I wanted to get to know better and kiss thoroughly, everyday if I could.” Steve shifted in the bed until he spun Bucky onto his back, and he knew his face was unintentionally showing exactly how Steve’s words were affecting him. Steve gave him a soft kiss, “I was so happy to find out you were my roommate.”
“Really?” Bucky whispered, having blocked out the morning after so completely.
“Yeah, but then you acted like you didn't know me, so I thought you didn't want me.”
“Fuck, god, no! I did… the whole time... I mean I do - still. I was just so embarrassed, I liked you so much and thought I’d completely screwed up any chance.”
The grin on Steve’s face blinding and Bucky found himself returning it.
“So, I mean, we could clear off your bed today so you can use it again. Or… you can just live in mine from now on?” Steve’s face had a slight tinge of red and Bucky knew that even though the tone was teasing, he was serious.
“Well, I was thinking we could push them together and have a super bed - but whatever you want, as long as you fuck me like you did last night on the regular, I’m sure we can come up with the perfect arrangement.”
Steve leant down and kissed him deeply, his hands finding Bucky’s hip and squeezing it, before letting it trail across his stomach and then down. Bucky sucked in a sharp breath, and when Steve pulled back, he looked into Steve’s dark blue eyes and saw the love he felt shining right back at him.
And suddenly Bucky knew that everything was going to work out.
He couldn’t wait to rub Nat’s nose in it.