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“Reality TV is garbage,” Bucky asserts.
Steve shoots back, “I don’t disagree with that, but it’s still a valid form of entertainment.”
“No it fucking isn’t. It’s not entertaining to watch idiots bickering over dumb bullshit, or exploiting their kids for attention, or watching rich people flaunt their expensive garbage. That kind of shit fucks up people's minds. It poisons their whole outlook on life.”
Steve licks his lip into his mouth and chews on it thoughtfully. After a moment he says, “I agree with you completely. And I get that you don’t personally like it. Personally, I don't like it either. I’m just saying for some people, it’s stress relief, or it distracts them from their day-to-day bullshit.”
“That’s what hobbies are for, man. Play a fucking game, knit a goddamn sweater, collect decorative plates, or whatever. Reality TV is poisoning people’s minds. It gives them unreal expectations of the world.”
“Watching TV is a hobby, Buck.”
“No. No, no, no. It is not a hobby. It’s a passive activity, and therefore is not a goddamn hobby.”
“Can you two quit bickering?” you grumble. “I’m watching Kings of Pain. These guys are getting stung by bullet ants on purpose. It’s hilarious.”
“We aren’t bickering,” Bucky huffs, “we’re debating. And you’re kinda stepping on my point here, kitten.”
“See?” Steve gestures at you. “Animal shows are reality TV, and they’re cute, and funny!”
“Okay, they’re cute. I’ll give you that, but don’t you think it’s a little exploitative?”
Steve chews on his lip again while he mulls over Bucky’s comment.
“Goddamn it, Steve,” Bucky growls. “The next time you bite your lip while I’m talking to you, you’re getting fucked so hard.”
Steve sits up straighter, eyeing Bucky hungrily, then slowly, deliberately, licks his bottom lip between his teeth and bites it.
Bucky flings himself across the space, and knocks Steve flat on his back. He rips through the basketball shorts Steve is wearing, and yanks down his flannel pajama pants. He manhandles Steve onto all fours, hawks a wad of spit at his hole, and follows it with his cock.
Steve groans a curse when Bucky’s hips are flush with his.
“You’re still wet from when I fucked you this morning, punk,” Bucky growls through clenched teeth.
Steve’s eyes flutter shut. “Yeah, I fuckin’ am,” he purrs. “Now get me even wetter, Buck.”
Bucky pulls him closer, so he’s towering over Steve’s body while he fucks him. He uses his vibranium arm on Steve’s neck to pin him down to the mattress.
“God, fuck yes,” Steve groans. “Go fuckin’ harder. Shit.”
“You want it harder?” Steve nods as best as he can with his head pressed to the mattress. “I’ll fucking wreck you, slut.”
Steve fists his hands in the sheets when Bucky starts to rail him in earnest. He’s chanting yesyesfuckyesfuckme with every slap of Bucky’s hips against his ass.
Steve presses his chest against the mattress, and pushes his ass up, so Bucky can go deeper. Bucky grabs a handful of Steve’s ass cheek and spreads him open so he can really pack himself into Steve’s guts.
“Fuck you feel so good around my cock. Such a good little slut for me. Always ready for my cock, always ready to be fucked, aren’t you?”
“Shit. I fucking am,” Steve whines. “‘M always ready for you. God, you fuck me so good.”
“That’s the kind of shit I expect from a slut like you,” Bucky spits on Steve’s face. It lands on his cheek with a wet smack, and Bucky uses his human hand to rub it over his skin.
Steve’s eyes roll back into his head, and he moans, “‘M your slut. ‘M fucking yours to use. ‘M fucking yours.”
“You’re goddamn right you’re mine, bitch,” Bucky snarls, and pushes on Steve’s neck again. “Now fucking come for me, slut.”
Steve barks a curse, and his dick obediently starts pumping come as soon as the words are out of Bucky’s mouth. His cock swelling and twitching, and splashing jizz all over his chest and the mattress below him.
Bucky takes his hand off Steve’s neck, and puts his weight on top of him, pushing him flat on the mattress, and riding him down. He bites marks into Steve’s shoulders as he barrels toward his own orgasm.
“Gonna come. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck, ‘m gonna come,” Bucky pants against Steve’s sweaty skin.
“C’mon, Buck. Do it,” Steve grunts.
Bucky rests his forehead between Steve’s shoulder blades. He comes with a groan, grinding himself into Steve with shallow strokes, making a mess deep in Steve’s guts.
He rolls to the side, hitting the mattress heavily. They’re both panting hard, trying to catch their breath.
“Do you stubborn asses feel better now?” you ask.
“A little bit,” Bucky sniffs.
Steve snorts, “All I’m sayin’ is let people live their lives.”
“Not this again,” you groan, and roll your eyes.
“No, no. I’m done. You win, Stevie. You’ve convinced me,” he holds his hands up in supplication. “Now, as soon as I catch my breath, we’re going to talk about you and your goddamn lip biting habit.”