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We Three Alone

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They are waiting for him together in the booth of the private Soho social club, a tumbler of brandy at Peggy’s hand and one of whiskey at Bucky’s. The lights are low and atmospheric, the music equally so, and they are both beautiful: Bucky’s sharp lines, Peggy’s soft curves. He would have them both if he could, no more eager to learn the taste of one set of lips than another. Equally besotted and hopelessly, desperately in love.

He nervously checks his tie, unsure why it is so important that he looks his best when they have both seen him at so much less.

It could be the surprise of seeing the both of them here, side by side. As far as he is aware they have only met the once and he knows that Bucky had made an uncharacteristically poor first impression. Steve can hardly blame him, not after everything that has happened to him, but he loves Peggy as much as he does Bucky, and he’d hoped, perhaps foolishly, that they could both see the other as he sees them.

They both cut serious figures. Peggy is not one for screwing around and Bucky has scarcely cracked a smile since their reunion. He gets half a friendly welcome; warmth in Peggy’s eyes and a curve to her lips that suggests genuine pleasure to see him. Bucky doesn’t seem able to look at him and his eyes remain fixed on his left knee.

A knee, Steve belatedly realizes, that rests beneath the curve of Peggy’s hand.

“Hello, Steve,” Peggy says affectionately, her smile growing as Steve’s wide eyes snap away from possessive limbs, up to meet her own. “We were worried you might not join us.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve finds himself saying, his attention back on Bucky and the way he reaches for his glass and gulps down the whiskey. It is so unlike the slow, indulgent savoring he’s shown good alcohol in the past. “Stark needed to take some samples to analyze and I lost track of time.”

Peggy rolls her eyes. “Trust Howard to throw a spanner in the works. Can we get you a drink? I believe the bar keeper only has a few choices to hand right now, but the quality is superb.”

“No,” Steve shakes his head, “thank you…” He hesitates then decides on a decisive approach. “I’m sorry, I’m missing something here aren’t I?”

Bucky mutters something quietly under his breath and Peggy shoots him a stern frown. She squeezes his knee firmly and Steve’s confusion takes a sudden swerve into concern. “Everything okay, Buck?” A part of him feels he should be addressing Bucky by his rank, but Peggy has set the tone at informal, so he will follow.

“He asked for another drink,” Peggy says, “which is out of the question.” She tilts her head towards Bucky. “We are not doing this unless you are sober, we agreed.”

“This?” Steve asks, feeling hopeless left out. He’s not too proud to admit to a stirring of jealousy as well. This wouldn’t be the first time he’s lost a woman’s interest once they saw Bucky. He’s never minded – much – in the past, perfectly able to understand why a dame would pick Bucky over him. Who wouldn’t pick Bucky? When Steve’s art classes had turned focus on the classical male form, he had always looked at Bucky as his muse. How could he fault others for doing the same?

He’d just not prepared himself for the same with Peggy. He had thought perhaps that in this new, still often strange body, Peggy might…Bucky might… Foolish really. The hand on Bucky’s knee speaks of intimacy and he realizes with a pang that their familiar body language goes beyond far beyond mere acquaintance and into much more a much more familiar territory.

That’s why Peggy asked him here. They want to tell him that they are together. No wonder Bucky can’t meet Steve’s gaze. He’s always gone out of his way to never steal Steve’s girl. Not that Steve has ever really had one worth stealing.

Not that Peggy is. Was.

He’s happy for them. He is. He is. The lie feels as forced as his smile.

Bucky deserves someone who can make him smile again. Peggy deserves someone who will respect and treat her well. The fact that Steve thought…hoped…he could be both is irrelevant.

“I should explain why we asked you here,” Peggy says, taking a small sip from her glass. Steve’s not sure how her lipstick doesn’t leave a mark behind on the rim, but it doesn’t.

“You,” Bucky mutters, finally daring to meet Steve’s gaze. He looks like he’s being asked to do something he really doesn’t want to do and has simply resigned himself to suffering. That hurts. Even at his most sickly and incapable, Bucky has never treated Steve as an obligation…a task to be endured.

Peggy’s lip twitches. She squeezes her hand again. “Yes, aright. I asked.”

“I’m happy for you,” Steve says quickly, hoping desperately to avoid a long, drawn out conversation. He’s not sure he has the fortitude to hear the sorrow or the pity in either of their voices as they tell him. They will try and be kind, he knows that. They might not want him, but he knows they do both love him. He won’t ever doubt that. They would never wish him pain.

“Told you,” Bucky sighs as Peggy startles. She looks momentarily upset but she shakes it off quickly.

“Yes, I suppose you did. I apologize, you have known him longer.”

“Yes,” Bucky says, lifting his chin stubbornly and finally looking like he’s not wishing himself anywhere but in their company, “I have.”

There is a possessiveness to Bucky’s voice that brings back the sternness to her expression. “Don’t be a brat, James,” she says. Steve is not sure what shocks him most – the use of Bucky’s given name by someone he had no idea knew him, or the fact that Bucky submits to the reprimand. He’s always been more laid back than Steve, that much is true, but he is in no way a push over. His temper is slower to rise but it burns twice as long. He looks back down at his knees like a scolded child and Steve is suddenly worried that he’s missed more than just his two best friends finding love.

“Is…is everything okay?” Neither of them respond immediately. “Bucky? Bucky, are you okay?” Steve has to stress that now, aware of Bucky’s vulnerabilities in a way he never was before. You hear all sorts of stories about men who get taken by the enemy and never really come back again. Bucky’s here, he is, across the table and solid beneath Peggy’s hand, but there are shadows in his eyes that have never known American soil. Shadows they put there and Steve is helpless to dispel.

He looks startled by the question though and some warmth returns to his expression as he looks up sharply. “I’m okay, Steve,” he promises, his voice as soft as it sometimes was when Steve was really sick and Bucky was afraid that raising his voice might do him in for good, “really.”

Steve wants to believe him. He wants to go back to a time when Bucky never lied to him and Steve never feared that one wrong touch could bring a look of terror to his eyes.

“That is partly why we – I, honestly,” she rolls her eyes and Bucky actually smiles. They are so beautiful together. Steve can see it now, see them making it out of this war and into a chapel. They’d both wear their uniform and Bucky would pace half the morning away before the bells started chiming. In his imaginings of their wedding, it’s Phillips who walks Peggy down the aisle, which is both hilarious and a little unnerving. Steve stands at Bucky’s side as always, at a loss to understand how happiness can hurt so very much. “Why I asked you here. It’s come to my attention that you are both utter idiots-“

“Hey now!” Bucky protests. Steve’s too busy staring, suddenly shaken from his mental meanderings by Peggy’s blunt remark.

“Hush,” Peggy waves away his interruption. “Where was I?”

“We’re both idiots?” Steve helps.

Her eyes light up. “Yes, thank you! Precisely.”

“No problem…why are we idiots?”

“The war will be long over before I could properly answer that question,” Peggy shakes her head. “But in this instance we can simply chock it up to poor communication, can’t we James?”

Bucky is back to glowering at her. She cocks her head to one side, dark curls neat against her collar and a silent conversation being held in their eyes. Bucky deflates and goes back to playing with his glass. Peggy rubs her thumb absently over his knee in small, calming circles.

“I should probably tell you how we met,” Peggy supposes. “Starting at the beginning usually works best for these sorts of things.”

Steve nods. “That might help,” he admits. It will give him a better context to work with if nothing else.

“She broke my nose,” Bucky suddenly pipes up, his eyes soft with the fondness of the memory.

“Ouch,” Steve cringes, having seen exactly how much of a punch Peggy can pack. “Did you deserve it?”

“Oh absolutely,” Peggy says cheerily. Bucky obviously disagrees but is not upset enough to allow it to effect the hints of his old, good natured temperament that is showing through. So Peggy did know him before HYDRA captured him. Steve wonders if she can see the changes in Bucky’s as clearly as he can.

“I was trying to help!”

“You were being insufferable,” Peggy corrects, her smile slowly growing again. “Would you have been so eager if I were a man?”

“I’d have punched you back if you were a man,” Bucky grumbles and looks to Steve for support. Steve shrugs helplessly. He knows better than to get involved in a lover’s quarrel, even one as humorous as this. “That’s the last time I ever offer to carry anyone’s kit.”

“I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own kit, thank you very much,” Peggy says primly, the smile pulling at her red lips now a fully grown thing.

“Don’t I know it,” Bucky snorts, touching his nose delicately as if reliving an old pain. “Crazy dame.”

“You offered to carry her bags?” Steve suddenly has no problem imagining Peggy laying him out flat. Poor Bucky, he was no doubt earnest in his desire to help – there isn’t a mean bone in his body – but Steve’s seen firsthand how Peggy gets treated by some of the men and he’s learned just as quickly that coming to her defense or aid doesn’t actually help at all. Sometimes Peggy can be a little too overzealous in her responses. Neither of them can help it.

“And she punched me in the face,” Bucky says dryly. He’s loosened up a little with the retelling of the story and Steve wonders if that’s half why Peggy told it the way she did.

“Yes well, I did apologize. I hadn’t actually intended to break his nose, you see,” Peggy tells Steve, her smile suddenly young and girlish and almost a little guilty.

“It was a great left hook,” Bucky compliments.

“It was, wasn’t it?” She takes a sip of her brandy as Bucky starts to laugh.

“Don’t think I haven’t seen your influence on the good Captain, here,” he chuckles.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Peggy says primly, winking at Steve as she lowers her glass again.

“You taught him to fight like a girl,” Bucky shakes his head, a smile to soften what could be quite an insulting comment had Steve clung to any of his ego.

“I taught him to win,” Peggy corrects. “And I have had no complaints yet.”

“This doesn’t actually explain how you ended up, you know…fonduing?” Steve says, unable to let the sting of being excluded from their easy banter stop the smile it brings to his face. They really are perfect together.

Bucky stares at him questioningly and Peggy groans. “Honestly, one of these days I’m pushing that man out of a plane without a parachute. Stark,” she clarifies when Bucky frowns in confusion.

“I’m just not going to ask,” Bucky shakes his head. “Are you sure I can’t get another drink?” He asks Peggy, almost pouting.

“Very sure, now hush.” Peggy scolds. Once again, Bucky falls obediently silent. Once again, Steve is struck by the knowledge that he is still very much outside of this loop. Peggy catches Steve’s expression and her mouth twists into a smile. “He’s rather lovely when he’s obedient, isn’t he?”

Steve suddenly wishes he’d taken her up on that drink, his ability to actually get drunk be damned. “I…I’m sorry, what?” He stammers. He thinks that maybe she is joking. He hopes she is joking.

Bucky’s eyes are back on his knees and his cheeks are flushed. He could say something to make all of this into nothing more than inappropriate humor, but he doesn’t. He stays quiet. Obedient.

“I said,” Peggy repeats herself slowly, “that he is rather lovely when he’s obedient. Don’t you agree?”

Bucky is lovely regardless, Steve thinks. He can’t say that though, so he swallows loudly instead and looks to Bucky for a clue as to how to respond. “Bucky?”

Bucky finally looks up and meets Steve’s eyes. He looks desperate, he looks frightened…and he looks…he looks like every sinful dream Steve has ever had of him. There is lust in his eyes, a hungry, burning want. “Please,” he begs.

He’s just not sure what Bucky is begging for.

“I think I should continue our story,” Peggy says softly, drawing Steve’s attention from Bucky’s pleading gaze. She’s settled into something serious again. Steve nods, and she continues. "After I hit him, I did feel quite awful. It was an overreaction on my part, and I intended to apologize. James was quite gracious really. I had, arguably, humiliated him in front of his peers but he’s not one to hold grudges." Bucky huffs a little with silent amusement and she digs her nails into his thigh in retaliation." Still, to mark such a handsome face without good cause…I was quite repentant. I touched the bruise I had so callously left him with, and do you know what he did, Steve?”

Steve shakes his head, his throat dry. He can suddenly see them now, dirty and tired, and the air sparking with energy between them. Peggy is a damn fine storyteller.

In the seat across from him, Peggy angles Bucky’s chin around until she can stroke her fingers lightly down the side of his face. Bucky’s eyes close blissfully and his lips part as he shivers. “Yes,” Peggy says, her voice soft, almost a purr of satisfaction, “just like that.”

“You liked it,” Steve suddenly realizes that he has blurted the words out, blunt and clumsy. Bucky flinches, the moment broken, and Steve scrambles to fix his carelessness. “No, I mean…I didn’t mean…fuck,” he swears, Peggy’s presence not enough to silence his dismay. He really isn't sure what he means at all.

Bucky swallows and looks up again. “I like it,” he says, his jaw set and firm and his eyes wide, unblinking. He’s forcing himself to be brave, to show Steve this part of himself. Behind that stubborn mask is a sheen of vulnerability that has existed a whole lot longer than this war.

Steve can’t help it. He reaches out and touches Bucky’s cheek, right where Peggy had, and strokes his fingers across clean, freshly shaved skin. The bone is sharp, his skin is soft, and when Bucky closes his eyes on an exhale, long eyelashes are but inches from Steve’s fingers. He could touch them if he wanted to. Bucky would let him. Bucky might even want him to.

“Oh,” Steve says, feeling the pieces click into place. “Oh,”

“Oh,” Peggy echoes wryly. “Are things a little clearer now?”

“Not really,” Steve admits, feeling foolish even as he pulls his palm away from Bucky’s skin. For a split second, Bucky seems to be following him, then his eyes snap open and he pulls himself back sharply. “You like…this? That?” He means the soft touches. He means the bruises that started it all.

“Both,” Bucky says, brave in a way Steve can’t quite comprehend his ignorance of.

“Have you always?”

“Yes,”

“Oh,” Steve says again. He can’t quite bring himself to ask if Bucky has wanted it from him as well.

“James is what we call a submissive masochist,” Peggy explains. Steve has never been fond of labels to categorize people, but it somehow helps to have something proper to call it. “In the right environment, with the right partner, pain can bring him great pleasure.” Peggy is very careful and very precise with her wording and Steve understands why. If he could go back in time and kill Zola before he laid a finger on Bucky, he gladly would. “In the right environment, with a consenting partner, I enjoy giving that pain. It is a symbiotic relationship, one formed on mutual trust, respect, and in our case, discretion. We arekept equally busy by our duties, but we have been seeing one another over a period of six months. We can provide each other with something we both need without fear of ridicule or derision.”

Steve reaches over and takes Bucky’s hand beneath the table. He holds it gently, not squeezing as he wants to, not willing to cross the line from comfort to pain at this moment in time.

Bucky swallows, and for some horrifying reason, his eyes are wet with tears. “Bucky,” Steve aches with the need to hold him and it only grows worse when Bucky looks away again, unable to face him.

He can understand now why they are together, why they give the appearance of such intimacies – in all the ways it is possible to be intimate with another person. He understands. He respects it, but as he holds Bucky’s hand in his, he can’t just accept what Peggy is telling him blindly. Maybe before, but Bucky is vulnerable now in ways he has never been, and Steve will do whatever he needs to do in order to see those vulnerabilities are not abused, even by someone with as pure a heart as Peggy.

“Do you love him?” He asks, blunt in a way he would never usually be.

Peggy does not take offense.

“No. Nor does he love me. I am incredibly fond of him, and I think perhaps that one day love might grow on both our parts, but I’m afraid our hearts are already spoken for, and that, finally, leads to why I asked you to meet us here tonight.” She doesn't look away and the truth of her words are clear in the rich, shining depths of her eyes.

“Me,” Steve says softly. “You…me….both of you?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” Peggy asks him, her voice gentle. “You won my heart back in New Jersey and I don’t believe there has ever been a day when James has not loved you.”

Bucky’s hand suddenly squeezes Steve’s own tightly. “She’s right, you know.”

“I…I don’t know what to say,” Steve whispers. It feels all too much like a dream, even with Bucky’s hand, strong and firm against his own to ground him.

“That’ll be a first,” Bucky snorts, prompting a chuckle from Peggy.

“You know I…both of you, but I didn’t…I never…” Steve stammers, utterly overwhelmed by the sudden knowledge that maybe he can have them, both of them. That they want him back. “What do we do now?”

“Well,” Peggy says carefully, “I suppose that depends on you. James and I are going to go upstairs. We’d very much like it if you joined us but we won’t think less of you if you don’t. I believe our cards are already on the table. I’m afraid we are both rather besotted with you, Captain Rogers.”

“If…if I do…” Steve stammers, suddenly more afraid of making the wrong call here than he has ever been in battle. He wants to go with them. But. He’d follow the both of them to the ends of the earth, why is the idea of following them to a bedroom so much more terrifying?

“Your participation is welcome but not mandatory,” Peggy promises him. “You can have as much or as little of us as you’d like.”

“All of us,” Bucky says, speaking up with heartbreaking earnestness in his eyes, “if you want us.”

“I… yes. Please, yes.” His hesitation seems juvenile when faced with the relief on their faces. Bucky is, as ever, easier to read, but it’s clear in Peggy’s eyes as well. For a moment Steve understands that they are just as nervous as he is, just as afraid of what might happen.

Maybe, together, they can find a way to make this work.

The perks of being in a private club are immediately obvious as Peggy leads them both to an ornate staircase. No eyelashes are batted as she is handed keys by an unflappable doorman and leads two men upstairs into more private surroundings.

“You don’t have to worry,” she says, catching a glimpse of Steve’s hesitancy, “this establishment is very discreet.”

“That’s one word for it,” Bucky mutters.

“You can be quiet now, James,” Peggy says sternly. Bucky falls obediently silent, a shy half glance flashed in Steve’s direction as he tries to gage his reaction.

The part of Steve that has been Bucky’s best friend for so long pipes up with well meaning jokes about Bucky doing what he’s told for once; the part of him that’s been in love with Bucky for nearly as long would never be so careless with what he’s being given.

For years now Bucky has kept this side of himself from Steve, either out of shame or fear. It hurts that Bucky’s not trusted him, but it hurts more to think of his friend having to deal with it all on his own.

In the face of Bucky’s nervous bravery, Steve finds his response quite shockingly simple. He reaches out and cups Bucky’s cheek, his thumb rubbing gently over sharp bone. “Good boy,” he praises, his initial knee jerk of panic at what he considers a horribly condescending response shelved as Bucky’s eyes darken and his lips part, shock and arousal vying for dominance.

“Oh you’re going to be very good at this,” Peggy chuckles, turning the key in the lock of a large, ornate door at the end of the corridor. It opens with a groan, smooth but not soundless. It’s been well used in the past but perhaps not as much recently.

The furniture inside is well kept though, clean and sturdy. There’s a fire burning merrily at the far wall, two plus armchairs set facing it at an angle and a thick, indulgently heavy pile rug stretches out between them.

A small side table is already laid out with a jug of water and a selection of small crumpets. There’s a box of various teas and a small jug of milk set by three tea cups and saucers. A large copper kettle sits waiting to be placed over the fire.

The bed is something else entirely.

“You’ll have to forgive what is a very rude question I’m afraid,” Peggy says, locking the door behind them, “but neither of us were certain of your experience and I’d hate to continue at a pace that would case you any discomfort.”

“Who me?” Steve asks, wide eyed at the realization that he’s now locked in a room with the two people he loves most and about to watch them have sex. Sex that he’s fairly sure he has been eagerly invited to participate in.

“Well James’s discomfort is rather the point,” Peggy points out, prompting an eye roll from Bucky that is rewarded with a ringing smack to the backside. Peggy does have a hell of an arm on her and Bucky’s squirms are a lot more enticing than Steve could ever have imagined. “Behave,” she scolds.

“Sorry,” Bucky says softly.

Steve feels adrift as Peggy raises on her toes and kisses Bucky very gently on the mouth. It’s not a passionate act as much as it is a reassuring one, but it’s so tender and sweet. Not what he’s been imagining.

“Just do as you’re told,” she says gently, “I’ll take care of the rest.”

Bucky nods and when Peggy leads them over to the armchairs he settles gracefully onto the rug, his head dropping to rest against her knee. Steve mutely takes the second seat. He’s overwhelmed by the trust he is being given to be allowed to witness such private interactions and he’s jealous as hell of the way Peggy’s fingers comb gently through Bucky’s hair, calming him and soothing him and offering him a comfort Steve has never known he has needed. “So then?” Peggy prompts.

“I’ve had sex before,” Steven says, feeling supremely awkward in the face of what is obviously a great deal of combined experience. “Not often,” which is an understatement. Twice, to be precise. Both with girls from the USO chorus line. First to try and forget the red curves of Peggy’s smile and the sharp blue of Bucky’ eyes, and then because they both felt it could be good. And it was, but somehow he is sure that sex with Peggy and Bucky will be so much more in every way.

“With a man?”

“No,” Steve admits.

Peggy nods thoughtfully. “Have you ever wanted to?”

“Yes,” Steve whispers, his eyes on Bucky and the way his throat bobs in response to Steve’ answer.

“With James?”

“Yes.”

Bucky shifts at Peggy’s feet. “Would you like that, pet?” she asks him. It takes Steve a second to remember that she is English, and pet is a term of endearment, not necessarily a label. Still. “Use your words properly,” she scold when Bucky simply nods his head. “Would you like to have sex with Captain Rogers?”

The use of his rank should not make Steve’s dick swell, but it does. He wants Bucky sat as his feet like he is hers, looking up at him with those trusting eyes and calling him Captain. That’s a whole new fantasy to add to his collection. Now he knows Bucky might actually be agreeable, the list suddenly has room for rapid expansion.

When Bucky is silent for too long, lost in what looks to be a dream like trance, Peggy delivers a sharp, ringing slap to his cheek. It sounds worse than it probably feels, but it is enough to jerk Bucky back into focus. “Focus, pet,” Peggy says, her thumb rubbing gently over the skin she has just struck, soothing out the hurt. “Would you like Captain Rogers to fuck you?”

Put like that, in such crude terms, it isn’t just Bucky’s wanton moan that makes Steve shift in his seat, his pants tight and his heartbeat throbbing in his ears. Now the image of Bucky opening up around him, his skin flushed and his lips parted with need floods his mind.

“Yes,” Bucky whispers, his face flushed and his eyes glossy and bright in the firelight.

“I think I’d like that as well,” Peggy agrees. “I’d like to watch him fuck you until you can’t stand, and then I think I’ll have your pretty mouth. If you’re very good, we might let you come.”

Steve’s groan is louder than Bucky’s, which is more a whimper of pained anticipation. He’d never imagined that he could ever want the things he is wanting now.

He never thought he’d ever want to share a lover with anyone, but now he’s almost overwhelmed by all the possibilities, with fantasies run wild, unchecked and free.

Peggy settles back in her seat a smiles, a radiant queen before her adoring subjects. Steve suddenly doesn't know if he wants to be where she is, petting Bucky's hair, or where Bucky is, looking up at her in adoration. "I think that will suit us all quite well," she muses. "On your feet, James. Let's show Captain Rogers what he's gotten himself involved with, shall we?"

Bucky rises with the same grace that he fell to his knees. The nervousness is gone from his eyes. He looks peaceful, calm, and just a little bit devious. His lips curl up in an indolent smile as he reaches up to unfasten his tie and Steve finds himself gripping the arms of the chair to stop from disgracing himself.

He's seen Bucky undress before.

He's never seen him strip off his clothes in a slow, sensual performance.

Peggy has a point.

Steve has no idea what he's gotten himself involved with, but he intends to enjoy every moment of it.

Chapter Text

When Bucky stops and stands naked before the both of them, Steve is struck by how very different he looks, compared to the way he had done before. He feels silly even as he thinks it – he’s the one standing a foot and a half taller after all – but he’s known Bucky his whole life. They’ve shared couch cushions together as boisterous children; mattresses as adults fighting against the winter cold; bedding rolls as soldiers hiding from the enemy. He knows what Bucky looks like naked. This doesn’t match the memory in his head.

This Bucky has none of the softness of youth that Steve remembers. He’s pale as well, and not in the way that Peggy is. There’s nothing natural about the color of his skin. Months kept prisoner in the factory and as long again running night missions have bleached him of his hard-won tan, taking with it the physical reminders of him standing shirtless at their kitchen table, grumbling as Steve applies milk and oatmeal to the sunburn that stretches across the back of his neck. That body has known hard work and hunger, but it has not known pain like it does now.

Steve wants to run his fingers over every scar and hear of it’s cause. He wants to kiss away the hurts associated.

He stays seated, hands on his knees, palms sweaty. 

Bucky has never looked at him the way he is doing now and Steve doesn’t want to ruin that with sentimentality. He wants Bucky to keep looking at him the way no one else ever has. There’s so much hunger in Bucky’s eyes, so much want. Bucky needs him.

That’s going to take some time to get his head around.

Peggy clears her throat and the spell breaks. Bucky snaps to attention, his gaze shifting from Steve to a blank space on the wall in front of him.

“We need to discuss limits,” Peggy says calmly. She waits for Steve to wrench his attention away from the supple curve of Bucky’s thighs before continuing. “I can’t imaging we will be getting up to anything too licentious tonight, and we shall of course have to have this discussion in greater depth, but for now we can agree on certain lines that shall not be crossed by any one of us.”

“Lines?” Steve says, feeling out of his depth once more. He looks helplessly in Peggy’s direction, but he can’t stop his gaze from darting back over to Bucky, almost in the hope that the answers might be written in the fire lit gleam of his skin.

“Boundaries,” Peggy says patiently. “These can be anything from things you do not wish to experiment with this evening to things you have no desire to do at all. For example,” her mouth curves into a somewhat rueful smile, “I do not wish to have vaginal intercourse with either of you tonight.” Bucky whines softly, a sentiment Steve feels some sympathy towards, and Peggy starts to laugh. “I’m sure I will find other ways to keep you entertained,” she says dryly. “But yes. James and I had this discussion before your arrival and I will safeguard against some of his more sensitive boundaries, but communication is utterly essential between all three of us. If there is something you want, you need only ask. Likewise, if there is something you do not wish us to do, you must say so.”

It’s here that Steve feels his inexperience most strongly. He’s not innocent to all the things a pair of sweethearts might get up to between the sheets, but this is something entirely different. He doesn’t know what he wants, and he sure as hell doesn’t know what he doesn’t.

“Would you like James to go first?” Peggy offers, her expression softening with understanding. Steve nods awkwardly, his cheeks burning. “On your knees, Pet, and tell Captain Rogers your limits.”

Bucky obeys immediately and Steve watches him, drunk on anticipation and the dark, thrilling knowledge that all the things he’s long denied himself might now be available to him, eagerly and enthusiastically given. There is so much grace in the way Bucky folds himself down onto his knees, but he doesn’t stop there. He lays his hands on his knees, palms up, fingers soft and unclenched. His thighs are parted just wide enough for Steve to see the upwards curve of his cock.

“I don’t like blood play,” Bucky says, drenching Steve’s rising excitement with a pail of ice cold shock. He catches the word blood then puts it into association with Bucky and promptly shudders. “No knives or blades,” Bucky continues, oblivious to Steve’s rising horror.

“I don’t want to cut you!” He says, aghast at the idea that Bucky might think Steve would want to.

“Don’t be cross with him, Steve,” Peggy says calmly. “I asked him to tell you his limits, not to judge them.”

“I’m not-“ Steve feels himself flush, “I just…people like that?” He can’t imagine ever seeing a lover and wanting to make them bleed.

“It can be erotic in the right circumstance,” Peggy nods. “Carry on, James.”

Bucky isn’t looking at him now and Steve worries he might have upset him.

“I like being hit,” he says warily, “but not…not hard enough to break the skin.”

“Hit,” Steve echoes, “like, punched?”

“He likes a good slap in the face,” Peggy smirks. “Open hand only. If you put him over your knee you can use something a little firmer. We will get to that later. I’ll show you how to spank him until he cries.”

Steve has to pick his jaw up, already gone at the idea of Bucky laid across his lap, a hand on his ass, his skin pink and hot and sore and-

“I think it’s safe to say you like that idea as well?” Peggy is chuckling and Steve can’t even mind that she might be laughing at his inexperience.

Bucky wants Steve to spank him.

“You can tie me up if you want: I like it,” Bucky continues, calmer now that Steve has shown some enthusiasm. “Just…” his gaze darts towards Peggy, who nods kindly, her smile soft and shaded with sadness. “No handcuffs. No chains.”

Steve has to swallow more than once before he can find his voice. “No chains,” he promises. Then, wanting to turn the pink on Bucky’s cheeks back to bashfulness and away from shame, he offers a little grin. “Not that I really need to tie you down you know,” he says. “Pretty sure I could pin you for hours if I wanted to. Do you want me to?”

Bucky’s eyes are almost black in the firelight. “Yes,” he whispers.

“Yes what?” Peggy asks sternly.

Bucky drops his gaze again. “Yes Captain Rogers.”

This time Steve can’t stop himself from moaning. God, he could live for Bucky calling him that. He wonders if he’s going to get hard now in the field just because Bucky addresses him by his rank. As much as the idea embarrasses him he can’t bring himself to ask Bucky to stop.

But he does have to shift in his chair. He’s past the point of discomfort and rapidly edging towards pain. His pants are too tight and his cock is throbbing.

Peggy, who has not missed a single trick all night, notices. Of course she notices.

“Pet,” she says, capturing Bucky’s attention. “I think the good Captain requires your services. Oblige him.”

“Yes ma’am,” Bucky says eagerly, crawling across the rug like a decadent courtesan of old, his skin glowing in the firelight and his eyes gleaming. He doesn’t stop until he’s at Steve’s knee.

“Can I take your clothes off, Captain?”

“Oh my god,” Steve says, wanting nothing more than to let Bucky do just that. But still…

He puts all his effort into checking his strength and the slap he lands on Bucky’s cheek is softer than a swat at a fly. It clearly stings regardless and Bucky looks up at him with wet, sorrowful eyes. “Say please,” Steve says, his voice rough as it catches in his throat. A part of him wants to apologize. A part of him wants to do it again, this time on the other cheek.

Over on her chair, Peggy beams at him.

“Please,” Bucky begs, “please let me take your clothes off, Captain Rogers.”

Steve nods and Bucky rises up on his knees to unfasten Steve’s tie. He works quickly and efficiently, removing each item one by one until Steve is shirtless and his clothes are folded neatly beside the chair he’s sat on.

Then he obligingly lifts his hips so Bucky can access his belt. Nimble fingers work their way through the leather and Steve drifts for a moment, imagining Bucky over his knee, the leather of that belt cracking against soft, sensitive skin. He imagines how Bucky might squirm and resolves to ask Peggy if it might be an option later in the evening.

Bucky undoes his shoes and removes them one at a time, then his socks, before he pulls Steve’s pants and underwear down with one smooth tug.

The sudden relief as Steve’s cock is freed from the confines of his clothing is breathtaking enough that he’s not shy in his nakedness. That surprises him. 

“Good grief,” Peggy suddenly exclaims in delight. “Oh Pet, you are going to be so sore tomorrow.” She’s looking at Steve’s dick. Bucky is as well, his eyes wide, nervous and wanting.

“It’s proportionate,” Steve says a little defensively. He's still so unsure in his body, still learning the lines and spaces of himself, and he has no more confidence in his desirability now than he did when he was half the size.

“It’s glorious,” Peggy assures him. “Next time we do this we’re going to tie James down on the bed and I’m going to show you just how much I like it. You can watch, Pet,” she tells Bucky, who whines in response. “If you don’t do as you are told we won’t let you come at all,” Peggy warns him sternly. “I believe I gave you an instruction. Captain, would you like his hands or his mouth?”

“I…” Those long, agile fingers or his plush, red lips? “Mouth?” He straightens his back and looks from Peggy to Bucky. “I want your mouth,” he says with more certainty.

Bucky’s lips curl up at the edge and he shuffles forwards, slotting himself between Steve’s thighs.

“Put your hand behind his neck,” Peggy directs Steve, languid and unashamed as she lounges back against the chair. Her legs have parted as far as her skirts will allow. If she hitches them a little higher, Steve will be able to see the tops of her nylons. He wonders if they are lace or if she’s worn something more practical, and the tantalizing hint of more is just as erotic as the miles of bare skin Bucky is revealing to him. They are so different; Peggy, sat like a debauched warrior queen on her throne; Bucky, nestled between Steve’s legs, naked and laid open. He rests his cheek on Steve’s thigh and looks up through thick lashes that are damp with sweat and the glossy gleam of tears. Steve can’t stand to have him look like that, like he’s being left aching and wanting and it’s all Steve’s fault, so he does as Peggy says.

“Good,” she nods from across the room. “Let him feel you. Touch is very important to James; it grounds him.” Steve can see that. He spreads his fingers wide, touches the nape of Bucky’s neck and the edge of his hairline and lets his hand rest there. “Very good,” Peggy praises. “Just like that, yes.” Bucky drops a secret kiss to the inside of Steve’s thigh. It’s warm and it sears his skin with the intimacy of it. “I saw that,” Peggy chuckles. “Don’t make me punish you, Pet, you won’t enjoy it.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky whispers contritely, tilting his head until he can look over his shoulder and fix Peggy with his most pleading expression. She’s more immune to it than Steve is, and merely raises a dark eyebrow in expectation. “Next time I’ll tie your hands behind your back and you’ll remove the Captain’s clothes with your teeth.” Bucky shudders and nods. “He’s very good,” Peggy tells Steve. “I once made him pull my stockings off over and over with just his mouth. That part he enjoyed, but he did have some issues putting them back on again. When he couldn’t manage I made him wear them and I spanked his poor little arse with my hairbrush.”

“Oh my god,” Steve breathes. He clutches at the arm of the chair and stops breathing as the image penetrates his mind. Bucky unfastening his belt. Just his mouth. Those lips and his sharp teeth, his shoulders nudging Steve’s legs wider apart as he nestles in closer to get a better angle. He’s going to come before Bucky even gets his mouth on him and he’s not sure he can handle the embarrassment. He thinks of Bucky with come on his face, of him with Peggy’s nylons pulled up his legs and with her looming over him, naked and glorious. It doesn’t help.

Across the room, Peggy smiles wickedly. “Has anyone ever sucked your cock before?” She asks him.

Steve somehow manages not to choke on his own spit. “N-not really…” He’s had a woman’s hand on him, he’s had sex, but no one has taken him into their mouth before.

Peggy nods thoughtfully. “James tells me that he was quite popular back in Brooklyn. Apparently he had something of a reputation for being able to take anything he was given. Now, obviously that’s something I’ve been limited in testing for myself, but I think it’s time to see if our Pet can live up to his own stories.” Bucky shudders and looks back at Peggy. “Did I tell you to stop? Just for that, you don’t get to touch.” Bucky whines but obeys, his hands sliding away from where they rest on Steve’s calves. Peggy nods in thoughtful approval. “Steve, I want you to put your hands behind his neck and fuck his mouth until you come,” Steve’s jaw drops at the matter of fact crudeness of her words but it is less shock and more hopeful anticipation. He looks down at Bucky and then back up to Peggy and forgets for a moment that he’s able to form words. Peggy merely continues. “James,” she says, “you’re going to thank Captain Rogers for letting you suck his cock, and then you are going to take everything he gives you…understand?”

Bucky nods, swallows, and looks up at Steve with eyes that glow in the firelight. “Thank you, Captain Rogers,” he says with beautiful obedience, and then licks his lips, his mouth open and lax and waiting. Steve can’t help but reach out with his free hand. He runs his thumb over Bucky’s bottom lip, then slips it into his mouth and across his tongue.

“You’re so beautiful,” Steve says breathlessly. “God, Buck…”

“Please, please, I want your cock, please Steve…” he’s broken the rules and Steve doesn’t care. He guides Bucky closer, until the head of his straining cock brushes his lips, and then carefully eases into his mouth.

He goes slowly. Inch by agonizing inch. Not because he doesn’t want to just slam right in and lose himself in the blissfully wet heat of Bucky’s mouth, but because he’s not entirely sure Bucky is going to be able to take much of him at all.

He is proportionate, and watching the way Bucky’s lips stretch around him is the single most amazing thing he’s ever witnessed.

“How does he feel?” Steve can’t tear his eyes away to look at Peggy when she asks the question. He’s too obsessed with the way Bucky’s cheeks hollow as he works his mouth around Steve’s cock.

“Good,” Steve breathes, rubbing his thumb across the back of Bucky’s neck in encouragement. “Oh god, so good, Bucky, so good…”

Steve’s breath catches in amazement as the last inch of his cock vanishes into Bucky’s mouth. He can feel the flutter of Bucky’s throat around him as he struggles with the size of it, overwhelmed and completely full.

Steve moves to pull him back, to ease up on him, but Peggy’s hand suddenly clenches in Bucky’s hair, holding him fast. Steve didn’t even see her move.

“There’s a good boy,” she croons in Bucky’s ear. “Does he feel good inside you?” Bucky moans and Steve can’t help the way his hips jerk in response to the sound.

Peggy uses her grip in Bucky’s hair to pull him back when he gags. She draws him back into her arms and rubs her thumb over Bucky’s throat, gentling him as he struggles to control his breathing.

“Buck, I’m sorry-“ Steve gasps, utterly mortified.

“Again,” Bucky rasps, “please Captain.”

Peggy tilts her head to one side in consideration, then kneels down behind Bucky.

“Hands,” she says, holding up one of her nylons. Bucky immediately crosses his wrists behind his back and she fastens them together with the silky black fabric.

“Might I suggest you stand?” She asks Steve. Baffled but trusting her completely, Steve stands and moves himself so his cock is once again in line with Bucky’s mouth. Everything is suddenly so much more from this angle. They are both on their knees for him, but he’s no doubts that Peggy is still calling the shots.

She tilts Bucky’s head up and holds his jaw with one hand. The other curls tightly in his hair again.

Bucky whimpers as he understands what she is doing.

Steve can’t blame him.

This time it’s Peggy he can’t keep his eyes off as he sinks back into Bucky’s mouth. Her eyes are glowing and she is so incredibly beautiful. Wicked and wonderful and dangerous. She holds Bucky firm and locks eyes with Steve, a smirk growing on her lips as Steve catches on to just what she wants from him.

He reaches down and lets her fingers comb through her hair, across her cheek, soft and adoring.

And he fucks into Bucky’s mouth with one long, smooth thrust. He doesn't stop until he's made Bucky take every inch of him, until he's stuffed full and his adoring eyes are watering with the effort.

They give him a moment to adjust, a brief second in which he’s completely overwhelmed and utterly helpless in Peggy’s arms. Then she nods, and Steve obeys her with the same obedience Bucky does.

He snaps his hips forwards, takes Bucky’s mouth with none of the gentleness he used before, filling him up over and over, not giving him a chance to use any of his apparently numerous skills, just fucking into him like he’s a hole there for Steve to use.

He can see the effect of it on Peggy’s face. It’s there in the flush of arousal on her cheeks and the pleasure that curls her mouth up into a smile.

He can see it in the tears that roll down Bucky’s cheeks and the worship in his eyes as he looks up at Steve in wonder, gagging on every thrust.

Before today the idea of making someone cry like this would have horrified him, but he can’t deny Bucky’s enjoyment, not when his cock is so hard, not when he’s looking at Steve the way he is. Bucky is lax and calm in Peggy’s arms, still and obedient and perfectly happy to let them use him like this, even as Steve pushes him to the limits of what he can take.

“Such a good little whore,” Peggy says to Bucky. Steve’s rhythm falters at the word, his instinctive dislike of the slur when used against a woman triggering a response that doesn’t last beyond Bucky’s shudder of pleasure. “God, I can feel his cock in your throat,” Peggy's fingers curl around his neck while Steve presses Bucky’s face firmly into his crotch. “He’s so big, isn’t he Pet? You’re going to be ruined when we’re done with you my darling.” She meets Steve's gaze and he stills himself with some effort as she runs her fingers up and down the swollen curve of Bucky's throat. Steve can almost feel the ghost of them along his cock. She purrs delightedly in Bucky's ears, wraps her hand around his throat, and nods at Steve, telling him to continue. Bucky's whole body jerks this time, and he struggles for air as both Steve and Peggy work to steal it from him.

“I want to come on his face,” Steve says, growing ever more bolder with each thrust into Bucky’s soft, willing mouth.

“Yes,” Peggy purrs.

“You want that Buck?” Steve asks, withdrawing completely and shuddering with guilty delight as Bucky chokes raspily with his next breath. “You want to wear my come on your face for the rest of the night?”

He can’t believe he’s capable of saying these things.

He can’t believe Bucky likes it so much.

“Please,” Bucky says. His voice sounds rough, painful and fucked out. He sounds like he’s been sucking cock all night and he’s going to sound just as bad in the morning. They’re going to go into a strategy session and when Bucky speaks up with his thoughts and ideas, all Steve is going to hear is that sound.

He pushes himself back into Bucky’s mouth, taking the image and searing it into his memory. Peggy’s the only thing keeping Bucky upright, bracing him against the force Steve takes him with.

He makes Bucky take every inch of him, all the way, until his nose presses against Steve’s crotch and his whole body goes tense again. Peggy holds him there, doesn’t let him move, and watches Steve, waiting.

Her instincts are good. Steve’s toes curl against the rug beneath him and she jerks Bucky back sharply. He has a second to suck in a desperate breath as Steve wraps a hand around his cock. He tugs once, twice, watches the way Bucky’s mouth looks so red and sore, and he comes on his face, just like he said he would.

It’s filthy. Steve’s careful not to touch himself too much, still hard despite his release. He expects Peggy to push Bucky away, not wanting to mess herself up with Steve's come, but instead she angles his head around and kisses his red, swollen mouth. She licks Steve's come from the corner of Bucky's lip, and then bites down on it hard enough to make Bucky cry out.

"Did you enjoy that?" Peggy asks, looking up at him with wicked curiosity.

Steve can't speak. He just nods.

"You're still hard," she observes, leaning back enough to slap Bucky with twice the force she's used up to this point. It sends Bucky sprawling onto the rug and Steve almost rushes to his side, desperate to kiss away the hurt.

"I'm sorry," Bucky sobs in his broken, hoarse voice.

"I believe I told you to take care of Captain Rogers, and here he is, still left wanting. What exactly do you have to say for yourself?"

Steve opens his mouth to come to Bucky's defense. It's the serum, that's all. It's not Bucky's fault. If anything it is Steve's. But Peggy catches the look on his face, even if Bucky can't. Her stern expression softens and she shakes her head, one finger raised to her lips. She's not actually cross with Bucky at all. It is all just part of this fantasy Steve doesn't quite understand.

Nervously, carefully, ready to throw himself down and apologize at the slightest sign of going too far, Steve puts his hands on his hips. "I thought you said he was good at that?" He doesn't say that Bucky wasn't because he can't lie about it, but he can imply if that is what the fantasy requires.

Bucky sobs on the rug, struggling up onto his knees with his hands still bound behind him.

"He said he was good," Peggy corrects. "But then I hardly have a cock to keep him trained with so perhaps that is it? Have you gotten too used to a woman that you can no longer please a man?"

"No ma'am," Bucky cries, "please, I can do better."

"I'm not sure Captain Rogers even wants your mouth again after that," Peggy says, her whole expression lighting up with silent laughter at the scandalized look on Steve's face. "But I will let you prove to me that you do still know what to do with that whorish mouth of yours."

Bucky manages to climb onto his knees and he looks up at Peggy like she is more beautiful to him than the stars in the sky. "Thank you," he says, sounding so genuinely, wonderfully grateful for the second chance to make her happy.

Peggy nods and walks over to the bed. "And what about Captain Rogers? How do you intend to make things up to him?" She settles herself against the headboard and finally hitches her skirt up to the tops of her thighs. One stocking is still attached to its clip, but the other leg is gloriously bare.

And she's not wearing any panties. Steve is so busy staring at her and trying not to salivate that he almost misses Bucky's response.

"My ass," Bucky says, "fuck my ass, Captain, please fuck my ass."

"Oh my god," Steve is starting to feel like a broken record.

"I presume you don't object to that idea?" Peggy is laughing at him now. Not maliciously, but with the sure confidence of a woman who knows exactly what power she has and more importantly how to use it. Steve shakes his head a little too fast. "Bring him here then."

Steve obeys, moving to Bucky's side and hauling him up by his arm. He's about to do as Peggy has asked, but he pauses, his fingers on Bucky's jaw as he studies his face. He's looking for something, anything that might suggest Bucky isn't enjoying this as much as they are.

There is nothing but glowing bliss looking back at him. "My beautiful Bucky," Steve whispers, kissing the corner of his mouth with careful tenderness. Bucky melts against him, and Steve pulls on all the dark, sinful desires in his head to smirk at him. He waits until the nervousness creeps into Bucky's eyes, and then he pounces.

It's easy to throw Bucky over his shoulder now. Easier still to carry him over to the bed and dump him in Peggy's arms. She immediately wraps her legs around him and pins him in place with the strength of her thighs.

"Now then Captain," she says conversationally. "Am I to assume you are familiar with how to prepare a woman to take you inside of her?"

"I've not had any complaints," Steve says, grinning now. He's actually been really good at that. Better than he's been at the actual in-out sex stuff and a whole lot less ungainly and clumsy.

"Well good," Peggy chuckles. "The only real difference here is that James isn't going to get wet for you, no matter how much his cock might drip." And it is - red and hard and it looks almost painful now, but Bucky hasn't shown any signs of coming yet. "Oh, I have him very well trained in that regard," she laughs. "He won't come without permission, will you darling?" Bucky shakes his head, groaning as she drags her thumb over the head of his cock. "Now, you'll find lubricant on the table beside the bed. You can get by with saliva in a pinch, but it isn't particularly comfortable and since we aren't just having some clandestine quicky, I suggest you use plenty."

Steve nods, fetching the small tin and liberally smearing his fingers with the slippery substance within. Peggy doesn't offer any further instruction, so Steve takes it to assume he can continue as he pleases. He leans forward, then pauses.

"Can you spread your legs any wider?" He asks Peggy, who nods and obliges, her long, supple legs spreading out across the bed.

"I don't need to have fucked him before to know how flexible he is," Steve grins. He takes hold of Bucky's calves and forces his legs wide. Peggy sees his plan quickly and laughs as Steve shoves Bucky's thighs over her own. Now she can hold him spread apart as with her knees, making him open as much or as little as she likes.

"I very much like your thinking," she says. Bucky starts to whimper, the tendons in his legs straining from the width they have been forced to. "Oh do be quiet Pet," she says, and stuffs her silky panties into his open mouth. Bucky splutters, sobs, and goes obediently silent.

"Huh," Steve says, pinching Bucky's thigh playfully, "I should have tried that years ago." That earns him a half-hearted glare from Bucky, one he responds to by suddenly pushing one slick finger into his ass.

Bucky yelps, then shudders and goes boneless in Peggy's arms, almost as if the combined onslaught is too much for him to process all at once.

"Good boy," Peggy praises him, rubbing her thumb and forefinger over the bud of one of his nipples. "Just let us take care of you."

Steve takes his time. He moves slowly, even more than necessary, cataloging each of Bucky's reactions as he tries out different things. One finger, barely pressed in to the knuckle, then two pushed in all the way. He tries edging his thumb in alongside them, tries spreading Bucky open with his fingers and marvels as small, tight muscle opens so welcomingly for him. This is so far removed from all his fantasies, the minute details of the reality far beyond anything he has imagined. The way Bucky's thighs tremble, the way he tightens around Steve's fingers, hot and slick and beyond all imagining.

It's nothing like his childhood fantasies. It's so much better.

Here he has the stark red of Peggy's nails as they pinch and squeeze Bucky's abused nipples. They're an almost perfect match for her lipstick - one that is smeared across Bucky's throat but somehow not her face. Here he has her voice, rich and smooth and decadently sinful, whispering filthy encouragements to Steve as he opens Bucky up to take him.

Bucky is babbling incoherently, sobbing for breath as Steve traces the straining rim of his hole with the edge of his thumb. “Please, please, please, please,” he begs, words still shaped around silk, no clarification in his desires. Please, no more, or please, he wants Steve to open him up with his whole hand.

“That’s enough,” Peggy says, stopping Steve before he has to decipher the undecipherable. “Turn him over,” she orders.

Steve flips him onto his belly before he has the chance to absorb the order. From this angle, Bucky looks so much smaller. His thighs stretched wide to accommodate Steve’s presence between them and his buttocks, small and firm are already dotted with Steve’s fingerprints.

And that little pink hole between them that doesn’t look large enough to take the fingers it just has, let alone the full girth of Steve’s cock.

Drenched with sweat, Bucky’s bound hands clench at the small of his back as he trembles.

“I’m going to show you how to check in with him now,” Peggy says, settling herself higher against the headboard so Steve can see just how wet she is. “I have plans for his mouth, so you won’t be able to just ask him if you want to confirm his enthusiastic participation.”

Steve nods, listening carefully. Bucky is taking the chance to catch his breath, but he doesn’t move except to lean into Peggy’s hand as she strokes his hair.

“Take hold of his hands,” Peggy instructs, “and place your finger against his palm.”

Steve obeys, and almost instantly Bucky squeezes it firmly. Steve squeezes back and places a kiss against the small of his back, understanding the message.

“Do this when you wish to check on him,” Peggy says. “James, show Steve the other sign we use when your mouth is otherwise occupied.” Bucky shakes his head vigorously and Steve thinks at first he is refusing her. Then he realizes that is the sign. "Clear?"

"Clear," Steve says. "You squeeze my fingers or we stop, and if you shake your head like that-"

"In this situation, we take pause and establish communication," Peggy clarifies. "There are numerous reasons James might need to take a moment and not all of them require we end the session." She plucks the panties out of Bucky's mouth and draws him upwards to kiss her. It forces Bucky to arch his back painfully, but Steve can see he will do that and so much more if she wishes it. When she draws back, her eyes are full of affection and warmth. "As I said: communication. Are you ready to continue?"

"Yes," Bucky gasps, "let me please you."

And just like that, her expression changes. "You better," she warns, and takes a strong grip in his hair. "Captain Rogers, whenever you are ready."

Steve nods and drags Bucky a little further down the bed, giving Peggy enough space to shove his head between her spread thighs. With his hands still bound behind his back and his legs spread wide by Steve's body, he's got very little wriggle room. That doesn't seem to be affecting Peggy's enjoyment as she holds his head firmly and grinds herself against his mouth. "Like I said," she gasps, color high on her cheeks and her hair finally unwinding itself from its perfect curls. "He has his uses."

"You like that, huh Buck?" Steve asks, working his fingers back inside Bucky's ass. “You always were popular with the girls. This how you do it? Take 'em out dancing then let them ride your face? Can you make her come? I think you should," he twists his fingers sharply and Peggy's lashes flutter closed in response to Bucky’s moans. "I don't think you get my dick until you've made her come."

Peggy laughs in delight as a shudder races through her body. She's still wearing more clothes than the both of them, a queen taking what she wants from two men who adore every inch of her. "Oh you are good at this. Hear that Pet? You better get to work."

Bucky does. His neck is at an angle that must hurt, but the wet, enthusiastic sounds he makes as he works her open with his mouth suggests that he's putting his all into achieving his goal. But Peggy has more self-control than Steve does. When she starts getting too close, she bites her lip and pulls him away, giving herself a minute before forcing him back down again. Steve doesn't stop playing with Bucky's hole, switching from one finger to three or four, spreading him open and filling him up, but not giving him what he wants. He thinks he can do this forever - tease Bucky, make him beg and moan and cry.

Every so often Steve slips his fingers into Bucky's palm. Bucky squeezes back tightly and Steve runs a gentle hand over his trembling hip. "You're so good," he praises. "You should see her Buck, see how beautiful she is, what you're doing to her. So beautiful."

Peggy shudders, a gasp escaping her parted lips as she grabs hold of Bucky's hair with both hands and presses herself tightly against his face, and if she's beautiful at every other point in her life, she is incandescent when she comes. Steve can't help himself from leaning forward and kissing her as she rides it out, soft, panting gasps of passion as it takes a hold of her. She's a lot quieter than Bucky and somehow that surprises Steve. Then he imagines all the times she might have taken Bucky in the field, used him to make herself come while soldiers surrounded them on every side. He wonders if she let Bucky come himself or if she sent him away, hard and aching and desperate for the next time they were together.

Steve could kiss her forever, lose himself in the touch and the taste of her, in the daydreams of what they might do together in the future, but he has a promise to keep.

Bucky is stretched out and slick for him by this point, but even then it's a struggle to just take him as Steve wants to. He uses his thumb and forefinger to help the head of his cock push past the initial resistance, then pauses, inch after inch, taking him as slowly as he has teased him. Part of Steve just wants to hold him flat against the bed and stuff him full with every last inch, to take him with the same force he took his mouth. Another part is too afraid. So he goes slow, at least at first, the fingers of his left hand almost going numb with the strength Bucky is gripping them.

When he gets half way, he stops and pulls back, withdrawing almost completely. The sounds Bucky makes are muffled against Peggy's flesh, but Steve can feel the tension in him as he struggles to take everything he's given. If the sight of his pretty red mouth stretched wide and full of Steve was filthy and decadent, then watching that tiny pink hole try and take him is utterly obscene. Steve feels huge and brutish and suddenly so terrifyingly aware of just how much strength he has now. It wasn't like this with the girls from the chorus line. They'd climbed into his lap with blushing, giggling smiles and set the pace they wanted to set. This is the first time he's ever been in this position, and it is Bucky who will suffer if his inexperience bites them in the ass.

Peggy is running her fingers through Bucky's hair, gentling him as he squirms between them both. "He's alright," she says, encouraging Steve, whose hesitation must be showing. "He can take it, can't you darling?" She shifts a little so she can let Bucky rest his cheek on her thigh.

"More Steve, please, please don't fucking tease-" he breaks off into a sob, his face wet with both Steve and Peggy's release, and beneath that, pink cheeks and swollen lips, his eyes brimming over. Steve wants to give him everything.

"Maybe Captain Rogers wants to play with you, Pet?" Peggy says. "I bet he could do this all night if he wanted to. Give you just enough to make you beg and hold you on the edge for hours..."

Steve thinks he could, physically at least. He's not sure he has the heart to do that to Bucky now, not after how good he has been.

So he puts one hand on each side of Bucky's hips and shoves in all the way. Bucky screams, but it is soundless. Steve looks up desperately to Peggy for a cue to continue and her eyes are almost black with desire. "Fuck him," she whispers. "Fuck him like you've always wanted to."

"Can I?" Steve pulls back a little and gestures to Bucky's bound wrists.

"He's yours, love," Peggy says sweetly. "Do what you want with him."

Steve does. He tears the nylons right off Bucky's wrists, then pulls out of him completely. Peggy leans back and slips a hand between her legs, her fingers slowly circling her clit as Steve grabs Bucky by the ankle and drags him to the end of the bed. This will be easier with both feet on the floor.

"No leverage," Steve explains, turning Bucky on to his back. "Besides, I want to look at you."

Bucky looks utterly wrecked, but he smiles blissfully, one hand reaching up to touch Steve's cheek. Steve grabs it, presses a tender kiss to his knuckles, and with his other arm hooked around Bucky's thigh, drags him back onto his cock.

Bucky wails and scrabbles at Steve's shoulders, soft limbs and burning skin as Steve fills up every inch of him. He's on the edge now, knowing he wants to come but not knowing if that will be the end of it. Bucky is long passed that point, his cock hard and heavy. "You're okay Buck," Steve whispers, rocking into him gently now, each thrust as deep as he can take it, his body opening up for Steve as perfectly as if it were made for no other purpose. "You're doing so good." He wants to ask Peggy if Bucky has her permission to come now - he's so desperate, his eyes glassy and glazed; his mouth parted, soft and open as Steve forces the sweetest sounds from him. He's beyond the point of return. Before he can she is crawling down the bed to curl around them both. Bucky turns his face into her thigh as he whimpers and she raises up on her knees so she can lean against Steve's shoulder as he thrusts his hips. He's come once and now he thinks he could carry on all night.

Bucky might be docile and submissive now, but Steve is under no illusions that he won't end up with a bullet in his ass if he tries. 

"You are doing so well, Pet," Peggy praises, her fingers reaching down to the place where Steve and Bucky are joined. Steve jerks at the touch, so much more sensitive than he has ever been. "But Captain Rogers isn't finished with you yet. You don't get to come until he does."

Bucky closes his eyes and sobs, his fingers clutching weakly at the sheets. 

Steve takes pity on him. 

Peggy leans back against the bed, lazy and content to watch. 

Bucky doesn't even twitch as Steve takes hold of his legs and practically bends him in half. 

The truth is, Steve does have the stamina to go all night, which means upping his game if he wants to show any mercy. 

With Bucky's legs draped over his shoulders, Steve reaches underneath him and clasps his arms around Bucky's back. It forces him even deeper into Bucky's body, makes them both gasp at the sensation. Peggy's eyes are practically black with lust when she sees what he is planning on doing, but Bucky has no clue. And with him held firmly in the circle of Steve's arms, bent double and so full, he can't do anything more than take it when Steve lifts him clean off the bed.

"Steve!"

There is no way Steve could have done this before. He's not even sure Bucky could have done it to him. But now it is easy. He just braces his thighs and leans back enough to get a good angle, then fucks Bucky up and down on his cock, steady and relentless and inescapable. 

Bucky just about has the strength and the wits to wrap his arms around Steve's neck and cling on as he's used just as thoroughly as he was when they had his mouth. It's that, more than anything, that pushes Steve over the edge. He lifts Bucky up and drops him back down, over and over until he feels himself reach the edge of his climax, then he pulls out and throws Bucky back onto the bed. 

Peggy is on him instantly, wrapping her red lips around his straining cock while Steve circles the bed. 

"Open," he demands, turning Bucky's face towards him. Bucky does so without thinking, following orders out of instinct not awareness as Peggy drags his climax out of him. "This time you can swallow it."

Bucky shouts as he comes, the sound muffling as Steve slides his cock back into his mouth. That's all he needs to let go and his knees buckle as he fills Bucky's mouth with his come. He's too full, and there is something perversely fascinating in the way it leaks from the corner of his mouth and down his cheek. Bucky is trying to be good though, his throat working to swallow what he's been given even as Steve withdraws and falls into a heap beside him. 

For what seems like forever they just lay there, exhausted and sated and completely spent. Then Peggy stirs and Steve feels Bucky shudder against him. 

Awareness returns with the force of a bullet and Steve jerks upright, reaching for Bucky with trembling, anxious hands. 

He sobs Steve's name once and Steve doesn't hesitate before pulling him into his arms. He has to check every inch of Bucky and he runs his hands across his face and through his hair, then down over his shoulders and arms, looking for bruises and pains that he has caused and unable to understand why he suddenly feels like crying. 

"Did good," Bucky mumbles, trying and failing to pat Steve on the shoulder. He looks high, and there's no strength in him at all as he lays slumped in Steve's arms. 

"Did I hurt you?" Steve asks around the lump in his throat. 

"Liked it," Bucky responds. "Pegs-" 

"Hush darling," Peggy appears, her arms full of blankets. "Up onto the bed, both of you." Steve realizes he's hanging half off the edge and takes a moment to arrange them both in a more comfortable position. He's then draped with a blanket that Peggy tucks around them both.

"I'm not cold," he says, only then noticing that he is trembling.

"You can be quiet as well," Peggy says, her voice overflowing with fondness. "Let me take care of you both."

"S'nice," Bucky says, his face tucked into Steve's shoulder. "Soft."

"He likes it when you stroke his hair," Peggy suggests, "if you want to be useful."

Steve can do that. He likes it too. He especially likes the happy, pleased sounds Bucky makes when he does. 

"I feel-" he can't explain it. He's not tired in the sense that his body can't move, not the way Bucky is tired. It's something more, something under his skin. 

Peggy steps around the bed until she can perch at his side. She's wrapped herself in a silk robe. "It's perfectly normal, love," she promises him. "This was a little more intense than I had anticipated for our first time together. I am sorry about that."

"I don't regret it," he says, not wanting to give her the impression that he does. 

Bucky mumbles something that sounds like 'better not'. Peggy just leans over and kisses his brow. "I am glad. But we aren't quite finished yet, so I expect you to do as you are told, understand soldier?" She's not spoken to him the way she has to Bucky, and now she is he feels his spine straighten with the urge to obey. "Good," she praises, running a hand through Steve's hair. "I want you to stay here and keep James warm, can you do that?" She waits for him to tighten his arms around Bucky and nods. "When he wakes up, I want you both to have something to eat and drink, and then we are going to clean ourselves up and crawl under those nice clean blankets and we are going to talk about what we have done here tonight. I want you to tell me all the things you liked, and if you didn't like anything, and I want you to ask any questions you have. Understand?"

Steve nods. He wants to do all of that. He wants to wrap himself around the both of them and stay in this bed forever. 

But - "Bucky?"

"He's fine. He'll be emotional when he wakes up. That's also normal. He's wanted you for so long that now he's got you he might not know how to react. I imagine you feel something similar?"

If those are the words for it, yes. He wants so much more than he ever knew he could. 

"We will work this through," Peggy promises him. "Together."

Steve lifts up his arm in silent supplication and she doesn't hesitate to press herself against him. She feels no less right in his arms than Bucky does. "Together," he whispers.