He’s awake before Steve’s out of the shower, but he stays in bed and stretches and scratches at his belly anyway, waiting. Steve’s left coffee for him on the bedside table. He gulps it down even though it burns; he likes it. Eventually the shower shuts off and Steve comes out, just a towel around his waist, pink all over and dripping water. The air in there is hot and the steam spills out behind him. Bucky doesn’t care; his showers are scalding, too.
“Mornin’,” Steve says.
“Get over here,” Bucky replies.
“Ain’t even eight,” Steve complains, but he’s smiling all of a sudden, brighter than the sun coming up outside, and he leans down and lets Bucky kiss him anyway.
“Thanks,” Bucky says, for the kiss, but Steve thinks it’s for the coffee, so he doesn’t say anything.
“Yeah,” Steve replies, and wrinkles his nose. “It’s only so’s that I can stand to kiss you before you brush your teeth. You know that, right?”
Bucky, fond, tugs him down on top of him with a jerk that knocks the air out of them both. They say oof in tandem and it makes Steve laugh. Bucky shuts him up by wrapping his arms around him and kissing him again. His towel’s slipping off his slim little hips, sexy as hell, and Bucky touches his warm pink skin all over, squeezing. Steve is so soft, and he smells so good.
“Aren’t you hungry?” Steve asks, breaking off for a second. “I only had two sandwiches. We should go out, get some food.”
“You get me up this early, you pay the price,” Bucky tells him. “See, I woke up with this problem, and, uh, I think you’re the one to take care of it, Captain Rogers.”
“Yeah, feels like swelling, if you can believe it –”
Steve tugs off the towel and suddenly he’s naked on top of him, laughing at the bad line, kissing him still. “I really am hungry,” he insists, after another long second, even though he’s wiggling around like a dog in Bucky’s lap, panting and glad about all recent developments.
“Me too. So get up here,” Bucky says. Steve goes to kiss him again, but Bucky ducks. “Nah-uh, up here. You know what I mean. What, you never heard of breakfast in bed? Fuckin’ heathen.”
“Buck,” Steve huffs, pleased, anticipatory. A little embarrassed, just a little, knee-jerk when Bucky talks that way. “Jeez.”
“What, it’s been a while, baby, s’been a while…” And Steve lets Bucky kiss him, and reach down and squeeze his ass. Steve’s getting hard, and his dick prods and rubs against Bucky’s belly and his own cock in his boxers, hot. “You know how I like it, sweetheart, come on. For me?”
“You don’t gotta talk me into it,” Steve chuckles, and then they’re laughing with each other. Steve’s so happy this morning, Bucky can’t even hold the early hour against him. “Yeah, what a burden it is for me, lettin’ you.”
“I know it’s rough,” says Bucky seriously, “But I just get concerned about all the dick you get, Steve. I think you need a break sometimes. Make sure everything’s still in working order down there. Tip-top – hah – shape –”
“God, shut up,” Steve groans. “You’re awful,” and he clambers up Bucky’s body.
“Try not to break the headboard, I’m not shelling out for a new one,” comments Bucky.
Steve heels him in the ribs so Bucky smacks him on the ass. “Rude,” Steve grumbles, grabbing onto the headboard. “That’s just – oh –”
Bucky’s a guy who has priorities, what can he say. It gets so hot so fast like this, Steve sitting on his face, no other options about where to stick his tongue – so he just gets to it, reaching up, hands spreading his ass open. He flattens his tongue and licks him and almost laughs. Steve’s such a little asshole; he’s always expecting to get some, so he always cleans himself up, routine like tucking in the sheets every morning and checking the give by bouncing his finger off the bed as he walks past. It’s cute, is what it is. Cute like his smile, cute like his ass; frankly a little presumptuous –
“Buck,” Steve gasps. This is Bucky’s favorite thing about doing it like this: well, no, he has a lot of favorite things. When it’s a girl, how wet it gets – all over his chin, his mouth. But when it’s Steve, God, when it’s Steve…
“Christ,” he says, because Bucky’s nose is nudging against that softest, sweetest little patch of skin behind his balls. Bucky’s drunk on the sounds, the sighs, the hitching, surprised gasps. Steve’s wet enough now – they like sloppy – that Bucky can press his metal thumb inside, hold him open, and so he does, and licks around it, and scrapes his teeth, gentle, gentle. “Buck!” Steve says. “Oh – oh –” That’s what Bucky loves: those soft needy little noises, the hungry, hungry moans. Steve just never knows what to do with himself, if he wants it harder or wants it less. So Bucky goes harder. He butts his nose against Steve’s perineum and then nuzzles into it and slips his thumb in further and shifts around to kiss at it, at that smooth, sensitive skin, press with his mouth. Steve gets all high-pitched and overwhelmed, finally deciding, and grinds down on Bucky’s face. There it is. He smacks Steve’s ass with his free hand again and hears a thunk: Steve’s forehead dropping to the wall.
“Please yes,” Steve moans. “Buck, oh – Buck, Buck –”
Too fucking much. Bucky laps at his hole again, slow, and fumbles to get his hand down his own boxers, where his cock is making a break for it. He fists his dick in his right hand and squeezes, and it makes him groan, and that makes Steve groan. He moans again when he starts jerking himself off, patient and leisurely. Let it last, damn, just let it last.
Steve grinds down harder when Bucky presses his thumb in deeper, deeper, swirling his tongue around it. Bucky just knows the face Steve’s making, biting at his own red little mouth, brow furrowed. He’s jerking himself off, too. Finally Bucky licks all the way inside him, pointing his tongue – he’s so hot, Steve’s so hot on the inside, blood-hot, real, realer than anything. Steve really does blush everywhere. Everywhere. Bucky has to squeeze at the base of his own dick so he won’t go off; the sounds Steve’s making are sinful, begging. Bucky points his tongue and licks and licks and nibbles at him, the little edges of the pucker. His nose bumps Steve’s perineum and Steve squeaks, honest to God, way a girl does if Bucky’s nose bumps her clit. Christ. Bucky sucks a kiss at Steve’s hole, next to his thumb, like he wants to leave a hickey, leave an ache. Steve’s voice hitches from somewhere deep in his chest, stuttering his breathing; he grabs suddenly at Bucky’s hair for purchase, scrubbing one hand through it, moaning with his mouth hanging open. “Fuck – fuck me,” Steve manages, “Harder –” whining around those hot noises, like he doesn’t know those words drive Bucky out of his fucking mind. Bucky sticks his tongue in him and rubs his thumb deep up on his prostate and shakes his head like a dog. Cardinal rule of eating out: you do it right, they’ll scream.
“Fuck, oh, oh, Buck!” Steve’s hole flutters, tightens, flutters. His fingers dig into Bucky’s scalp so hard it hurts, but now the hurt just feels good. “God, God, oh,” he moans, guttural, so fucking needy. “Buck, please, please, please.”
Bucky’s fucking his own fist now, his hips shifting restlessly, sweating all over the sheets. So much for that shower Steve took; now they’re both a mess. One downside, Bucky can’t talk. You close, honey? he wants to ask, sweet, just to see Steve blush redder. Am I gonna make you come? But he can’t, so instead he presses in with his thumb inside Steve where it counts, digging hard, maybe hurting a little, just a little, a sweet little bit – and Steve’s hips stutter, his thighs clamping hard around Bucky’s face. Bucky rubs and rubs in deep with the hot metal and keeps it wet, licking him wide open, pressing back with the muscle of his tongue every time Steve’s muscles clench up on the inside, around him. Prodding, shoving, stroking – rhythm. His jaw aches; it’s fuckin’ wonderful. He does it again – what Steve likes – burying his face there, sucking at him, rubbing how he wants it, just this side of too much.
Steve makes noises like he’s gonna die, and Bucky stops jerking himself off entirely, grabbing Steve’s ass with his other hand, spreading him wide so he can finger him good, hard. He puts his tongue back in, easy now as anything, Steve’s so wet for him. He licks in deep, slick – feeling Steve come from the inside, that’s the best thing about this, number one, no contest. He tightens up and at the same time he gasps, and gasps, and says ah, ah, ah – long, high, meaning it, grinding against Bucky’s tongue with so much greed it makes Bucky’s cock jerk, hands-free. He’s so loud, Christ, moaning that way, breathless, hot. Oh, oh, oh, again, and finally: “Buck,” he whimpers, honestly whimpers. “Buck, oh, God.”
Bucky rubs at him inside until he’s done fluttering and clenching up around him, until he’s twisting, too stimulated, and finally squirming away, sweating, pink all over, his dick wet and sated. Bucky gasps in a deep breath and flips Steve right back over, straddling his little waist. Steve looks up at him, wrists by his head, prone, his blue eyes huge and dark still. Bucky jerks himself off, tight, fast, and Steve gets with the program and scrapes blunt nails down Bucky’s chest, through the hair there, warm and damp and wiggling. “Come on, c’mon, I want it, I want it,” he murmurs, hotly. “I want it, get it on me, yeah, yeah, Buck, come on, yeah –”
So it’s not long, what with Steve acting this way, tipping his neck back so Bucky can come all over his tits and his throat, or wherever he wants, and Bucky does, squeezing his left hand at Steve’s chest out of pure habit. He groans, stilted, and when the hot come hits Steve’s skin Steve moans for it, arches into it. Bucky squeezes his cock until he’s done, his balls done aching, biting at his lip.
“You’re fuckin’ –” Bucky pants. “Fuck. Jesus. Filthy. You’re fuckin’ filthy.”
He collapses on Steve a little sideways, and rolls off him onto his back, their shoulders overlapping, kind of still on top of him. They look at the ceiling, sweating against each other.
Steve elbows him. “Outta breath, old man?”
“Thought I was gonna suffocate.”
“Good way to go, though.”
“Christ,” Bucky groans. “Baby, you got no idea. You got no idea.”
Steve squints and looks up above them, twisting around a little. “Oh God,” he says, still a little breathy. It’s so hot, Steve’s tits in his face, Steve’s belly slick and pressed to his, Steve sounding that way, wrecked, taken apart, that Bucky forgets to actually pay attention to what Steve’s saying for a second. “Look at the headboard. No, don’t. Gimme the towel.”
Bucky groans and fishes it out from under the bed and passes it over. “Well, where else did you expect it to go?”
“Yeah, try shoving a tongue that far up your ass, see if you’re still at full working capacity,” Steve says. He finishes wiping it off and collapses again, this time face-first against Bucky’s belly. Bucky scratches him behind the ear and then combs his right hand through his hair. Steve makes a happy noise and then he’s nuzzling at Bucky’s bellybutton, down the trail of hair, and down, and down –
“Damn, baby doll,” Bucky mumbles, tipping his head back. “We’re not getting anything done today, are we?”
“Nah,” Steve tells him. "S'my turn."
“Hey, you started it.”