Bucky scored his tech internship with SHIELD two months ago and has been plotting his way into the good Captain’s pants ever since.
It hasn’t been easy.
It’d taken Bucky a long while even just to figure out whether Steve was annoyed by or appreciative of Bucky’s flimsy excuses to be near him; which ranged from casually falling into step with him whenever he caught sight of Steve in the hallways, to dropping by his office at random whenever he needed help from someone with a higher clearance level than him – despite the fact that Steve is located three floors down from him, while Bucky’s actual assigned supervisor often works in the lab right alongside him.
So Bucky hasn’t exactly been subtle , but Steve is hard to read sometimes, and seemed to prefer to keep to himself a lot of the time. By now, though, Bucky thinks they’ve successfully formed a weirdly nice bond. A bond solidified by long, heated stares and a lot of gratuitous bending over and pen-cap sucking on Bucky’s end, yes, but a bond nonetheless. Steve talks shit about the other higher-ups to Bucky; they both know how the other takes their coffee. Sometimes they have lunch together. That is solid companion status.
But of course, Bucky’s greedy, so. It’s not enough.
Not everyone has the same faith in him as he does in himself though. Natasha has started taking the bananas out of Bucky’s lunch bag to save him from the apparently imminent shame of having to explain to Carol in HR the necessity of eating them like that, in Steve’s office, every other day. But Bucky hasn’t been reported for sexual harassment just yet. And besides, Bucky didn’t elbow his way into one of the most sought-after internship positions in the country by having the attitude of a quitter. So he perseveres.
He’s not sure what it is, exactly, that finally tips Steve over the edge, but being cornered by him in the back stairwell of the facility as he makes his way up to the lab one unassuming Thursday is a welcome, vindicating surprise.
“Oh, hey,” Bucky says lamely, before Steve backs him against the wall, bodily moving him with an ease that Bucky’s cock is extremely intrigued by. As his big hands grip Bucky tight by the waist, Bucky’s breath catches in his throat with the realisation that this is probably not a casually platonic staircase run-in.
“We have elevators,” Steve says, calling into question Bucky’s very presence in the stairwell, which, well. Bucky could ask Steve the same thing. And hopes his explanation includes something along the lines of physically not being able to carry on until he has taken Bucky against this wall he’s got him smushed against. Or something.
“I like taking the stairs,” Bucky squeaks, heart-rate picking up. “Good, uh, cardio. Not that I wouldn’t be up for alternatives,” he burbles.
Steve’s gaze darkens, sort of like it does whenever one of the government officials he’s under instruction to play nice with tries to get friendly with him and okay, so apparently, this is serious. Steve isn’t fucking around. Bucky wonders if he’s at risk of having to face Carol afterall. Although if that’s the case, Steve shoving his crotch into Bucky’s hip is kind of sending a mixed signal.
“Anyone ever told you what a shameless flirt you are?” Steve says after a beat.
“Yeah,” Bucky admits, licking his lips. Then he asks, “Why’d you follow me back here?”
“Don’t play dumb. It’s not cute,” he says sharply.
Bucky suspects that’s a lie on his part. Still though, he huffs in faux indignation.
“Well if you’re gonna be like that–”
“What?” Steve challenges, and then shoves a meaty thigh between Bucky’s, forcing his legs apart, apparently having had just about enough. Bucky sucks in a sharp, shocked breath. “You’ll do what?” Steve says, voice low and dangerous.
“I’ll–” Bucky begins and then halts, at a loss for words for once because Steve is very warm and very grumpy and very insistently pressing up against him and Bucky has had this exact wet dream far too many times. Steve raises an eyebrow.
“Keep blinking at me with those giant eyes of yours while you give suckjobs to whatever you can get your hands on?” Steve finishes for him.
“Maybe,” Bucky admits finally, heart thudding in his chest. “Depends. Is any of it working?”
Steve’s jaw tightens, and then he grips Bucky by the jaw, and tilts his chin up. Then he comes closer, and slowly licks into his mouth.
Bucky’s blood rushes south so fast he gets a little lightheaded.
Steve deepens the kiss, slipping his hot tongue further into Bucky’s mouth and Bucky gets his wits about him and sucks on it, which pulls a low groan out of him and also speaks volumes of the payoff that usually comes from Bucky’s persistence and general sluttiness, so take that, Nat , he thinks through the lustful haze in his brain.
Steve slides a hand up Bucky’s back, fingers curling around the back of Bucky’s neck, thumbing at the dark curls at his nape. He rolls his hips against Bucky’s, and Bucky lets out a sound that’s obscene even for him. He feels hot everywhere, turned on beyond any common sense as well as high on the thrill of being defiled by a national icon during his lunch break, so it takes him a minute, but eventually he realises that that is Steve’s cock pressed up against his stomach, hot and swollen and way thicker than it has any goddamn right to be and apparently not even fully hard yet, going by the way it twitches and grows with each whorish moan that falls from Bucky’s lips.
As Bucky attempts to process this, Steve grabs him by the thighs and lifts him, pinning him to the wall with his hips as Bucky’s legs instinctively wrap around his waist.
As he manhandles him into position, Bucky’s hips stutter in their desperate grinding, because while he’s pretty sure he can hold back from suddenly, embarrassingly exploding in his pants at the belated realisation that Steve is, inevitably, going to fucking ruin him, combined with the casual display of strength – well, better safe than sorry.
“Is that–” Bucky blurts dumbly, completely thrown for a loop by Steve’s below-the-belt situation. Steve is barely listening, just sucks a mark into Bucky’s neck, teeth digging into his skin. Bucky’s head tilts back against the wall with a helpless mewl.
Steve shoves his hips against Bucky’s, and says, “Too much for you?” and Bucky assumes he means – well, everything, and gives a choked moan as Steve ruts against him. And then Steve murmurs, voice gravelly, “Yeah. Gonna have to make it fit, huh?” which is when Bucky realises he’s talking about rearranging his fucking guts with the intimidatingly thick shaft pressed against him that is still steadily increasing in size and oh Jesus fuck–
“ Oh – St- Steve, I–” Bucky manages, and then he’s coming, teeth digging into his bottom lip so hard he tastes blood as he attempts to muffle his cries of pleasure.
Steve grunts, setting him down again, ignoring him as his knees wobble and he nearly falls flat on his ass. He grabs Bucky by the jaw again and makes him look at him, grip tight on his chin. Bucky blinks at him blearily, panting quietly.
“Oh, that’s pretty,” Steve murmurs, thumbing at Bucky’s doubtlessly kiss-reddened lips.
“You got a fucking license for that thing?” Bucky breathes, still stunned.
Steve suddenly looks long-suffering. “That a pun?”
“Maybe,” Bucky admits. “How is this gonna work?”
“We’ll figure it out,” Steve says, seemingly unbothered by the imminent destruction of Bucky’s asshole. Then he rolls his eyes at the expression on Bucky’s face, and adds, “People’ve been doing this since Ancient Greece, Buck.”
“You’d know,” Bucky mumbles. “You were there.”
“You’ve got a real mouth on you, you know that?” Steve murmurs, and reaches between them both for his fly. Bucky swallows audibly at the clink of metal as he unbuckles his belt – half in anticipation and half because his mouth is starting to water. Steve’s gaze darkens at whatever the look on Bucky’s face is, taking a small step back, tugging Bucky along with him.
“Besides; you want it. Don’t you?” Steve asks. Bucky nods weakly, and Steve gives a half smile. “Yeah, look at that face. Get on your knees,” he tells him, gruff.
Bucky doesn’t need to be told twice. He sinks shakily to the ground in the extra space Steve created for him, absently hoping that whoever’s monitoring the security cameras right now is scared enough of Steve to delete this footage and never bring it up.
Bucky’s cock twitches wetly in his pants as he finds himself suddenly at eye-level with the intimidating tent in Steve’s pants, thinking of it in his ass, forcing him open.
“You’re gonna split me in half,” Bucky croaks.
“As if that’s not what you want. ‘Sides, little floozy like you?” Steve says, sounding amused. “You’ll manage.”
Bucky’s cheeks colour. He reaches for the waistband of Steve’s boxers, tugging them down with one hand, pulling Steve’s cock out with the other. A rush of heat floods him, and his breaths are suddenly shallow again, like he’s the one being touched. He curls his fingers around the flushed shaft and can’t hide the wide-eyed expression that comes across his face as he stares, feeling it heavy in his hand. As he squeezes, precome beads and drips from the angry red tip, and Steve gives a quiet hum.
“Come on, open up,” Steve murmurs, tapping the side of Bucky’s cheek with two fingers. “I don’t got all day, and your lunch break’ll be over soon.”
Bucky flushes hotter, sticking his tongue out and taking Steve into his mouth. He sucks on the head, the taste of precome coating his tongue, leaking down his throat.
“Yeah,” Steve sighs. “Take it into your mouth properly– mhm, just like that.”
Bucky moans softly at the weight, the stretch, and Steve curses, hand in Bucky’s hair suddenly as Bucky bobs his head, taking down more of him.
“Easy,” he murmurs in caution as Bucky tries to take too much too fast and gags, pulling off, coughing.
“Sorry,” he begins, before Steve shushes him.
“Got nothing to apologise for. Just got a little excited, isn’t that right?”
Bucky nods, sucking in a shaky breath, and jerks forward again, but Steve holds him in place, fist tightening in his hair. Bucky whines, and then Steve starts feeding him his dick himself, slowly fucking into Bucky’s mouth, inch by inch, until Bucky’s stretched impossibly wide, trying to keep breathing deep.
His mouth waters and, inevitably, leaks, his chin getting slick and messy with it as Steve steadily thrusts forward. Steve’s cock twitches in his mouth, and Bucky whimpers.
“Look at me,” Steve says, and Bucky blinks up at him, something hot turning in his gut at Steve’s lust-darkened gaze. He sucks, cheeks hollowing out, and Steve gives a soft grunt.
As he works him over with his lips and tongue, Steve slowly thrusts forward, hitting the back of his throat with a roll of his hips, hissing softly as he does so. Bucky moans, a little out of his head, swallowing around the thick shaft, around the steady stream of precome.
“That’s it, there you go,” Steve murmurs, voice tight, holding him down, the wet, spluttering sounds of Bucky swallowing around his cock as it forces its way into his throat reverberating around the empty stairway.
Bucky’s eyes leak too, and he’s blinking through tears, curling his fingers around the outline of his own cock, hot in his messy underwear.
“Hard again?” Steve asks after he lets Bucky up, when he’s coughing and gasping.
“I– Steve,” Bucky shivers, lost for words. Steve gives an understanding hum.
“Not your fault, honey. This what you been wanting, hm? My cock inside that sweet mouth?” He tugs Bucky closer, moving him like a ragdoll. Bucky goes just as easily, mouth opening for it again, a broken sound in his throat. “Mhm. Go home at night, finger that pretty hole open, thinkin’ of me?”
Bucky whines and strains, tries to open up even more, take more of Steve. Steve’s giving quiet, pleasureful groans with each convulsion of Bucky’s throat, and it makes Bucky ache with want, and then, with a low curse, he’s pulling back a little, presumably so he won’t drown Bucky, and coming. Bucky swallows, but it’s a lot, just like everything else about Steve, and he’s already got a mouthful.
“What a mess,” Steve tsks as Bucky pulls off, so of course, Bucky spends the next minute cleaning it up, licking and sucking Steve’s cock until it’s wet, but come-free. “Good boy,” Steve says when Bucky blinks up at him, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand.
Steve takes him to his office afterwards.
Bucky appreciates it because he’s feeling a little dozy, more than a little messy, and in great need of the bottle of water Steve makes him drink, as well as the wet wipes Steve gives him.
“Better?” Steve asks when he’s done rearranging Bucky’s hair into something semi-presentable.
“Mhm,” Bucky sighs, slouching in his armchair and looking up at him. “But.”
Steve rolls his eyes. “I’m not gonna fuck you at SHIELD H.Q., Buck.”
“Why not?” Bucky frowns. He’d assumed that was the plan.
“I don’t tend to keep lube in my office, and we’re gonna need a little more than your drool if we’re gonna keep you in one piece.” Then he pauses, eyeing Bucky speculatively. “You are a pretty crier, though,” he muses. “Maybe another time.”
A stab of arousal has Bucky shifting in his seat.
“You can’t just say things like that,” he grumbles.
“Besides,” Steve continues breezily. “I’m travelling out of state tonight with a Strike team, to take a look at some vigilante cell that popped up a while back. We’re leaving in a few hours and that’s not enough. I want to take my time with you.”
Bucky frowns. “How long are you gonna be gone for?”
“Couple days,” says Steve.
“Oh,” Bucky says. “That why you chose today to make a move?” he grins. “So you’d have something to think about while you’re out there fighting crime and sleeping rough–”
“It’s a recon mission. It’s gonna be three or four days of snooping around and spending nights in business hotels on SHIELD’s dime; not exactly the trenches.”
“But you’ll think about me,” Bucky clarifies stubbornly.
Steve’s lips quirk in a small smile.
“Yeah, Buck. I’ll think about you.”
Steve doesn’t get on the phone much while he’s away saving the world or whatever.
Bucky deliberates over texting him – he did give him his number after all. But for some reason, now with Steve gone, Bucky’s left worrying about overstepping, making this more than it is. He doesn’t want Steve to think he’s clingy, because Bucky can totally do casual hookups, that’s fine. But he and Steve were kind of friends, and he’s not sure if that’s over or not now and the anxiety is starting to keep him up at night.
He spends two days hoping that’s not the case, and then on the third day, in the evening, Steve calls him, and something in Bucky relaxes when his name flashes across his screen.
“Hey,” Bucky says after waiting until the fourth ring to seem casual.
“Hey, Buck,” comes Steve, sounding sleepy, warm. Bucky pictures him in bed, laying atop crisp, cool hotel sheets. “Miss me?”
Bucky picks at his thumbnail.
“No. Why, you go somewhere?”
“Ha-ha,” Steve says drily.
Then, Steve tells him that they’ve been flat out for the past two days – things went better than they expected, and recon had turned into solid leads which helped shape their investigation and advance it miles ahead of where they’d been before. As the time passes, Bucky slowly loosens up, getting less and less needlessly frosty with Steve as he continues to be patient and sweet with him. It makes Bucky ache in more ways than one.
Naturally, being him, he ends up in bed, three fingers deep in his ass under Steve’s instruction.
“Easy, sweetheart,” Steve croons over the speaker as Bucky lets out a choked-sounding noise like he’s dying. “Take it slow for me.”
“Fuck, Steve,” he burbles, pulling his fingers out before pressing them back in deep. “Need it– need more,” he pants.
“Yeah,” Steve rumbles. “Yeah, I know slow’s not your thing. You like it mean, don’t you?”
“I like you ,” Bucky chokes out mindlessly, eyes screwed shut. His cock weeps against his belly, balls drawn up so tight it hurts, and he feels empty, feels frustrated and shamelessly needy. “Please,” he chokes out as his fingers skate over his prostate. “Steve, please.”
“Jesus,” Steve grunts. Bucky’s stomach flips at the thought that Steve’s touching himself too, a fist around himself, imagining it’s Bucky. “What do you need, Buck? Tell me what you need.”
“Need you, your cock in me. Fucking me– tell me you’re gonna–”
“Yeah, I’m gonna alright,” Steve says, husky. “Haven’t been able to stop thinking about last time, you know that? Your mouth on me, the way you take a dick, so goddamn eager. Wondering if you’d go just as sweet and stupid for it when I fuck that tight little ass of yours.”
Bucky sucks in a sharp breath and tries to think or speak but all he can do is feel as Steve keeps talking, keeps spewing filth, and then Bucky’s adding a fourth finger, working his pinky in alongside the rest and there’s a burning stretch, the ache of too much, and he’s coming, he’s fucking–
“Oh– oh , yeah,” Bucky moans, voice high and reedy. “Ye- eah , Steve, Steve– ”
Steve spits out a curse, and then he’s groaning softly too. Hearing Steve come makes Bucky wriggle uselessly on the bed, fingers flexing inside himself one last time.
“I lied,” Bucky says after a moment, when he can see straight again. “I do miss you.”
Steve chuckles. “Miss my cock, is what you miss.”
Bucky stretches out a little, feeling more relaxed than he has in days.
“Miss hearin’ you bitch about SHIELD staff and the dangers of social media ,” he mimics in a low, booming voice. Despite the teasing, it’s a little more real than he’s used to getting. But Steve doesn’t flinch away or hang up or remind Bucky that this isn’t anything serious.
“I miss you too, Buck,” he tells him, serious and soft.
That night, Bucky sleeps like a baby.
When Steve finally gets back, it’s a Saturday.
When he asks for Bucky’s address and invites himself over, Bucky is under the apparently mistaken impression that they’re finally going to fuck.
But instead of Steve’s giant dick inside him, what Bucky gets is Steve’s mouth on him, slowly licking him open until he feels sensitive and raw and shivery with want.
“Look at that,” Steve murmurs, rubbing a finger over Bucky’s wet, clenching hole as he arches and sobs. “Yeah, I know, sweetheart. It aching for me, hm? It needing something inside?”
When Bucky starts to beg, Steve has mercy and works a long, thick finger into him. Bucky’s hole squeezes tight around the digit, and he comes off like a shot the second Steve expertly crooks it, shrieking and spilling all over himself, making a mess of the sheets.
“Welcome back,” Bucky slurs, limp against the bed.
Steve gives his twitching hole another kiss, and then, sitting back, starts to undo his fly. Bucky’s eyes go round, and Steve smirks.
“You ready to take this?” he asks, groping himself obscenely. Bucky swallows, nodding jerkily.
“Uh-huh,” he breathes.
“Yeah,” Steve says, low, like it’s exactly the answer he expected. Then he eyes Bucky up and down, gaze heated enough to make Bucky squirm under it. “Sweet thing,” he murmurs, making Bucky pinken.
As Steve pulls his cock out, Bucky’s breaths start to come faster, legs spreading almost instinctively. Steve clearly has other plans though.
He gets this glint in his eyes that makes Bucky’s own dick give a weak twitch, and then another more valiant one as Steve gets closer, a knee by Bucky’s head, starts to fist his cock – ends up jacking off over Bucky’s face, shoving him back down with one strong hand when Bucky starts to sit up on his elbows to chase the leaking, flushed tip with his mouth.
“Lemme–” Bucky tries, only to be shushed, made to watch, left feeling like a starving man abandoned at the doors of a banquet.
Just when Bucky feels a sob working it’s way up his throat, Steve lets him have it. He guides his dick to Bucky’s waiting mouth, groaning softly as Bucky’s lips eagerly stretch around the fat head of it, tongue curling along the underside. Bucky moans, and Steve slips in deeper with a jolt of his hips, shallowly fucking his mouth.
He makes a mess out of Bucky when he comes, flooding his mouth and spurting all over his cheeks, dripping down his chin. He’s still hard though, just like before, and Bucky’s left panting shallowly, desperate, wanting.
When Steve has licked the taste of his own come out of Bucky’s mouth, Bucky whines, “Are you gonna stick it in me or what?”
Steve smiles into the kiss.
“You keep begging for it like that, I’m gonna get an ego on me.”
“Yeah, like being hung like a goddamn horse didn’t do it.”
Steve’s hands work their way over Bucky’s body.
“You‘re a delicate little thing,” he says, pressing his thumbs into the soft curve of Bucky’s waist. Bucky bites his tongue against the urge to tell him that anyone would look delicate next to him , the fucking mammoth of a man. “As much as I wanna shove up in there, I gotta stretch you out properly first.”
“I’ve,” Bucky begins, and then clears his throat, and looks away. “I’ve been, uh. Practicing.”
Steve presses pause on groping Bucky’s naked body. His eyes flick up to Bucky’s face again.
“Practicing,” he repeats flatly, demanding further explanation.
“Yeah.” Bucky clears his throat. “With a plug. Just the last couple of days. After work.”
Steve stares at him for a long moment. His fingers, still on Bucky’s waist, dig in harder. Bucky’s not even sure Steve knows he’s doing it.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Bucky,” Steve grits out.
“It wasn’t– I mean, it’s not as big as you,” Bucky clarifies, skin heating up under the intensity of Steve’s stare. Unable to bear it, he sits up, turning for his nightstand to show him. “But I figured it’d help, wearing it for a couple hours. I tried keeping it in at night, but I’d keep waking up all–”
Steve grabs him suddenly, and Bucky ends up flattened onto his belly, Steve settling over him, forcing a noise of shock and delight out of him as he cages him against the bed.
“All what?” Steve asks, lips against Bucky’s ear, hot and heavy on top of him, forcing Bucky’s hips down into the mattress. Bucky’s cock gives a wet, aching jerk as Steve’s swollen shaft ruts against him, so close to where he needs it. “So desperate for it you’d wake up at night fucking yourself on some fake cock?”
“Didn’t fuck myself on it,” Bucky breathes. “Not at night– too tired. I’d just–” In demonstration, he rolls his hips the little he can with Steve’s weight on him, humping the bed. Steve groans, and then grinds against Bucky’s ass, which forces Bucky’s cock into the mattress and ngh .
“ Ngh ,” is all Bucky can manage, Steve’s cock rocking against him more purposefully, precome getting Bucky’s ass and thighs wet until the head of his dick slides between Bucky’s cheeks and rubs against his hole. Bucky’s toes curl, writhing uselessly. “Fuck– Steve, please,” Bucky gasps, shivering hotly.
“You want it?” Steve says, voice low and dirty, making Bucky ache. He pulls back just a little, and then spits on his quivering hole, rubbing it in with his dick, sending Bucky that bit further out of his mind. “Right now?” He presses the fat head of his cock against Bucky’s hole with more intent, pushing a little, making Bucky keen. “Just like this?” Steve breathes, gruff.
“Please,” Bucky whimpers. He knows he’s not ready and it’s gonna hurt like hell but fuck he needs it so bad. “Please, pl– oh –”
Steve ruts against him harder, one big hand keeping him spread open, cockhead pushing up against him like he’s actually going to–
He pulls back and squeezes Bucky’s ass, rutting between his cheeks again. Bucky gives a sob of disappointment.
“Shh, I got you,” Steve croons, stroking a hand up his back in an evil attempt at comforting. “So hungry for it. Such a good little cockslut,” Steve says, getting him wet, cock drooling precome all over him.
“You’re evil,” Bucky moans into a pillow.
“Yeah, I know,” Steve says, and then he’s sliding a finger into him again, harsh and without warning.
“ Steve .”
Just as he says the word, Steve fits a second finger up inside him, twisting them sharply. Bucky breaks into a sweat at the stretch, nothing but his precome and spit to slick the way, and it’s good, Jesus, it’s so fucking good , makes his blood run hot in his veins, makes him clench up around him and moan.
“More,” Bucky pants. “More, more, gimme–”
“Look how good you take it,” Steve says lowly as Bucky gasps and pants and claws at the sheets, out of his mind with it.
Steve gives him another, slow this time, rubbing and teasing at Bucky’s clutching hole until he opens up, letting him in. Bucky chokes out his name, mind swimming against the torment of his prostate, and then he comes again, gasping as Steve curses, hips jerking, before he shoots all over his ass, pressing his fingers deep into Bucky’s hole until he’s done.
“You’re the worst,” Bucky wheezes as soon as he’s capable of speech.
Steve presses a sweet kiss to the back of Bucky’s neck.
“I’m hungry,” he murmurs against his sweat-slick flesh. “You can cook, right?”
“I hate you,” Bucky tells him. He wriggles. “Yes I can cook,” he grumbles in addition.
“Thought so,” Steve murmurs. “What are we having?”
Bucky’s eyebrows draw together in incredulity.
“You’re really gonna make me–”
“You think you’re the only one with an appetite?” Steve asks, then ruts forward one last time. Bucky shivers.
“How’s pasta sound,” he says weakly.
“Perfect,” Steve replies, satisfied.
The cooking takes practically no time at all; they end up lounging on Bucky’s beat-up sofa while it simmers on the stove.
With more than one brain cell in play, the ploy to spend some time with Bucky becomes clear, and the confirmation that Steve likes being around him turns Bucky into a blushing idiot who isn’t even that mad that he’s not currently getting pounded so hard that his back teeth rattle in his jaw.
Bucky props his feet in Steve’s lap and Steve rubs them absently as he answers Bucky’s questions about how his mission went, the danger and tension of it all reminiscent of a fairytale for how dissimilar Steve’s job is to Bucky’s daily laboratory experiments. An incredibly stressful, violent fairytale that Steve insists on downplaying as ‘just another day in the office.’ Still though, now that Steve’s distractingly huge dick is tucked safely in his boxers, Bucky – horrifyingly, disgustingly – finds himself feeling that Steve is more than deserving of, at the very least, a home-cooked meal to come back to.
A similarly grossawfulterrible feeling of satisfaction warms him as Steve eats, and then has seconds, and then kisses Bucky’s forehead in thanks and then sits back in his chair and looks sated and sleepy and Bucky sort of wants to rub his face against his beard.
Awful. Just awful.
They shower together, which. Yeah.
Afterwards, Bucky opens his medicine cabinet and finds Steve a spare toothbrush, which makes Steve smile a little.
“You keep an extra for all your guests or am I special?” he asks drily.
Bucky rolls his eyes. “It’s the second one in the 2-pack I got, Steve. No one ever stays this long anyway.”
Steve frowns. The silence that settles between them isn’t uncomfortable, but Bucky’s left feeling oddly shy.
Steve insists they’re both too tired for any dick action but he still wants to see the aforementioned buttplug before bed.
And then he wants to torture Bucky half to death with it; easing it into him slowly even though it’s about average in terms of cock size and girth, practically nothing in comparison to the monster Steve is packing, but he’s a bastard and Bucky is, sadly, kind of a masochist, so when Steve ignores Bucky’s relentless begging and instead takes his sweet time seating the toy snugly inside him, before rutting between Bucky’s quivering thighs and against his aching, plugged hole until he comes all over his ass again, Bucky comes too, making a mess of the sheets once more.
Steve flips him onto his back to kiss him afterwards. Bucky wraps his legs around his waist and whines pitifully, high on endorphins and admittedly sleepy, the day’s events starting to take a toll on him. Still, he grinds against Steve hopefully. All he gets for his troubles is a pair of kiss-swollen lips, and a night with the plug inside him.
Steve’s arm drapes around him, his chest hot against Bucky’s back as he drifts off.
Somehow, Bucky’s not too dissatisfied by this outcome, despite his grumbled declaration of contempt for Steve before he finally succumbs to sleep.
He doesn’t make it through the night, because of course he doesn’t. Steve wakes up before Bucky does, and Bucky’s eyes flicker open to Steve rolling him onto his back. His hips jerk futilely against the air in a sad mockery of fucking, blinking as he realises what’s going on. His hole wetly clenches around the plug, pulling at it. With a sound resembling a growl, Steve slowly pulls it out of him.
“Steve,” he pants as Steve scissors and curls his fingers inside of him. “Steve,” he says again, more urgently. Steve glances at him and Bucky tells him, “I need to get fucked.”
Steve looks amused, but also like he agrees.
“Yeah,” he allows, absently pressing his fingers deeper.
Bucky’s eyes roll up into his head a little.
“Steve,” Bucky squeaks. Steve gives a wicked smile. He squeezes Bucky’s ass, and then adds another finger, and Bucky feels the ache inside him bloom into something wilder, hotter.
Steve pulls his fingers out slowly. Then he wraps a hand around Bucky’s hard, flushed cock and tugs once before letting go. He pushes Bucky’s knees up against his chest and gets closer; his cock rests against Bucky’s in this position, thick, hot and intimidating. Bucky swallows.
“You’re not gonna give me a pillow to bite down on?” he says weakly, breaths coming quick and shallow.
Steve rolls his eyes, wrapping a hand around his own shaft and pressing the wet, leaking tip against Bucky’s hole.
“Nah,” he murmurs, gaze dark. “I want to hear you take this.”
Bucky gives a quiet whimper, and Steve rubs a hand over Bucky’s belly to curl his fingers around his waist to steady him. Or to keep him in place. Bucky lets out another whimper.
Steve pushes into him slow, eyes on his face. The steady, unyielding pressure has Bucky’s eyes screwing shut, his mouth dropping open on a silent gasp as Steve opens him up, so thick that even getting the blunt head of his cock past his swollen rim has Bucky writhing from the pressure.
“Fu- uhh -uck,” Bucky whines, hot everywhere, toes curling, instinctively tightening around him, dripping sweat and feeling exposed under the weight of Steve’s heavy gaze, the feeling of his fingers digging into his flesh as he tries to restrain himself.
“ Jesus , that’s sweet,” Steve grits out, voice rough, making Bucky moan and clench again.
Steve is gripping him tight enough that he can’t move, can’t squirm around like everything inside him is telling him to as he stretches him open, just has to lay there and feel himself give in. The pressure between his hips builds and builds until Bucky’s shuddering and yowling like an alleycat. Steve’s other hand squeezes the meat of Bucky’s hip, and then with a jerk of his hips, he’s burying himself deeper still, tugging him down another half-inch onto his cock.
“Tight little thing. That’s it, gorgeous, just breathe for me. Just like that.”
Steve stills his hips for a moment, one big hand squeezing Bucky’s ass in what’s probably meant to be comfort as he rocks in deeper, and then suddenly, he stops, hips against Bucky’s, buried to the hilt. So big inside him, pressing up against his spot insistently, inescapably. It’s a heady sensation; sets Bucky’s heart thudding even faster in his chest, sweat beading across his forehead, forcing out shaky pants.
“ OhmyGod ,” Bucky chokes out, writhing on it– or at least he would be writhing, if it weren’t for Steve’s iron-tight hold. As it is, he tenses up uselessly and then sinks down against the bed again, his spine turning into molten liquid.
“Shit,” Steve grunts, fingers digging into Bucky’s skin hard enough to leave marks, pulling out a little and then sinking deep into his ass so all Bucky can do is take it. “Shit, I’m sorry honey–”
“No you’re not,” Bucky retorts breathlessly. “No you’re- n- oh- oh ,” he gasps, Steve fucking into him again, harder, the headboard crashing into the wall as his self-control starts to slip.
Steve rubs a warm hand up his torso, then swipes his thumb over Bucky’s cheek, his gaze suddenly becoming focused and heated as he collects the tears Bucky wasn’t even aware had been escaping him. Before either of them can say another word, Steve pushes his thumb into Bucky’s mouth.
The salty tang of his own tears coat his tongue; when he curls his tongue around the digit to suck on it, Steve grunts and pounds into him, pace rough and punishing all of a sudden, making Bucky squeal.
“ Steve ,” he gasps wetly, mouth falling open, shivering. He arches and whines. “It’s so– I’m–”
“Nuh-uh,” Steve says, voice gravelly, rutting into him. “You wanted it, you fucking take it.”
Bucky gives a sob, clenching down tight around Steve, Steve keeps going, grinding into him, fucking him stupid.
“So full,” he chokes out.
Steve bends Bucky in half and shoves into him even deeper, sliding into him over and over, cock dragging along his prostate and ohjesusfuckyes. A hot burst of pleasure explodes in his gut and Bucky wails, walls clutching at Steve.
Steve gives a low groan and rolls his hips into him, burying himself to the hilt with each thrust, and then slowly pulling out, over and over and over. Bucky gasps raggedly, stuffed full beyond belief, his own cock drooling against his belly as he chokes out Steve’s name again.
“Yeah, there you go,” Steve murmurs, tugging him down to meet his onslaught, the relentless roll of his hips. “You crying again, honey?” he croons, soft and sinister.
“So f- fucking deep,” Bucky slurs, out of his mind with it, it’s so fucking good, he fills him up so fucking good.
Steve hums, getting closer, nosing along his jaw and pressing wet kisses against his neck. Slowly, the pace of his thrusts increase again until Bucky’s letting out sharp, shocked whimpers with each snap of his hips. His thighs are shaking; it feels so good, feels like so much , he thinks he might die, voice pitched high and desperate as Steve takes him apart.
“Yeah, there you go,” Steve grunts. “That’s it, sugar, take it, just like that. Good boy.”
Bucky arches up for it the little he can, his own cock drooling against his stomach as Steve pounds him, fingers digging into Steve’s broad shoulders as he slides into him again and again and again.
“ Ohmygod ,” Bucky whimpers, shaking with how close he is. “I’m gonna–”
Steve licks into his slack mouth, kissing him fiercely, fucking into him sloppy now, twitching and jerking inside of him, like he’s close too.
“That’s it,” Steve croons against his mouth, grinding into him. “Come all over my cock, gorgeous, let me feel you.”
It sets Bucky off; makes him arch and shake, spilling between the two of them with a sob of Steve’s name. It lasts forever, Steve’s fat fucking cock pounding into his prostate, drawing out Bucky’s orgasm and making him see white behind his eyelids, tears slipping hot along his cheeks.
With a grunt, Steve buries himself deep and works his hips in tight little circles, fucking his come deep into Bucky with a low groan.
Bucky’s limp and panting on the bed as Steve gives a few more lazy thrusts before stilling. He nuzzles at Bucky’s neck, pressing a kiss to his wet, flushed cheek.
“You still with me?” he asks.
“Mm,” Bucky hums, eyelids fluttering. “Barely. Fuck. You’re inside me,” he says. It’s what he’s been after for the better part of the last several weeks, but the question of what next? is loud and insistent in Bucky’s head. But Bucky already knows how it usually goes – he’s perfectly aware of what comes next.
He really doesn’t want Steve to leave.
Steve chuckles softly, nudging him so Bucky’ll open his eyes and look at him.
“Yeah, kind of a keypoint of the last hour or so.”
Bucky wipes at his eyes. “No, I mean– I just–” Abruptly, he shuts his mouth. Then, he shakes his head. “Nothing.”
Steve raises an eyebrow. “Not like you to bite your tongue.”
Bucky bristles; unreasonably, but he can’t help it.
“You don’t know what it’s ‘like me’ to do,” he says, avoiding eye-contact. “Just that I’m a slutty R&D intern with an oral fixation.”
Steve’s quiet for a while, and Bucky wants to sink off the bed and into the floor and doesn’t know why he can’t just bask in the afterglow and then make use of Steve’s perpetually hard cock again or something.
“Not that there’s anything inherently wrong with that label,” Steve says finally, so gently Bucky wants to roll over and bury his face in the pillow but can’t because he’s currently impaled on Steve’s monster rod. “But if there’s more to find out, then I want to.”
Bucky screws his eyes shut.
“No,” he groans.
“No?” Steve says.
“You don’t have to do this,” Bucky says, and grabs the pillow by his head and pulls it down over his face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. You don’t need to take me out on some pity-date, Steve.”
Steve rips the pillow from his face and tosses it onto the ground somewhere. Bucky groans and stares up at the ceiling.
“I strike you as the kind of fella in the business of doing things I don’t feel like doing?” Steve asks seriously.
Bucky risks a glance at his face and sees his expression; serious and open. Steve touches him, rubbing two hands up his sides, then back down his torso, like he’s trying to bring Bucky back down from whatever inner crisis he’s about to shoot himself into.
“You’re not as much of an asshole as you want everyone to think,” he says quietly.
“Nah,” Steve says, smiling a little now. “That’s not it. Just sweet on you.”
Bucky’s heart squeezes in his chest; and then it relaxes. He takes a deep breath, a helpless smile taking over his face.
“Well we probably shouldn’t let all the anal yoga go to waste,” he says, wriggling his hips. Steve grins and presses a kiss to Bucky’s mouth.
“Uh-huh. Because you’re so at risk of losing progress, right?” Steve says sardonically, rutting forwards just a little.
“You calling me easy?” Bucky says, too breathy to convey any amount of outrage.
“For me? Oh yeah,” Steve says, rocking into him a little faster now. “Wanna tell me otherwise?” he asks, pulling out, sliding in deep.
“The worst ,” Bucky reiterates breathlessly.
Steve doesn’t seem like he believes him.
Bucky kind of doesn’t blame him.