Work Text:
A boiling mixture of thick, beige liquid bubbled in a sauce pot on the stove. It smelled off. Somehow dry but not burning. Almost like nothing but a trace of something. Steve gave the pot a stir with a wooden spoon. Satisfied, he used a potato peeler to slice away bits of soap from a well-used bar into the pot, curly sliver by curly sliver. The pieces sat on top of the mixture until Steve stirred them into the greater pool of beige.
He was rebatching soap. He read about it in some women's magazine over a year ago. After two pages of pot roast and casserole recipes there was this article about soap. It reminded housewives of the critical importance of washed hands and clean bodies and, as a bonus, hailed rebatching soap as a fabulous way to save money. No longer would bar soap go to waste by getting washed down the drain or otherwise discarded when it got too small. After reading that article Steve began collecting soap fragments when they got too small to be used effectively. The article said all you had to do was dilute the scraps and then boil away most of the leftover water until you were left with something of a paste.
It took a while; slowly he added more soap to overwhelm the water and then more water when it was time for more soap. The trickiest part was getting the ratios right. He had to be vigilant about not burning the paste or adding too much water and not creating the paste. The article had a guide, but Steve didn’t have enough as the article said to use. Funny how a household of two men didn’t go through bars like a family of four or more. Steve stirred counterclockwise to thicken the mixture. Off in the living room just a few feet from the tenement kitchenette Steve could hear Bucky yawning. It was Sunday afternoon and Bucky was enjoying a well deserved rest.
“How much longer?” he called from the couch.
“Soon. I think,” said Steve.
The mixture in the pot was getting noticeably thicker. Soon it would be time to pour into a soap mold (a loaf tin). Steve heard the floorboards in the next room creak and within a moment Bucky was joining him in the cramped space.
“Think this’ll work?” asked Bucky.
Steve shrugged, “It should. It was published, anyway.”
“Smells like shit.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“Not exactly a meadow of lavender, is it?”
“If it works it’s better than nothing. And it’ll save us some cash.”
Bucky couldn’t deny that. Hours at the dock had been lean. No overtime for nearly a month. Salvaged soap might save five cents a bar but that’s five cents more in the coffer. Even if it smelled like warm fat.After more stirring and the water having boiled away Steve judged the mixture as ready. He turned off the stove and poured the rebatched soap into the tin. The first layer dropped into the tin with a wet and unpleasant sounding plop. After that Steve spooned the rest out of the pot as the second mushy layer. He smoothed out the top and gave the tin a shake on the countertop to get it to settle and even out.
“How long we gotta wait?” Bucky asked.
“Magazine said two week,” answered Steve.
“Do we have another bar in the meantime?”
Steve nodded, “Yeah, it’s in my toiletry bag.”
He was right, but overestimated the size. After about a week the bar had been used up, even if the final scrap. It wasn’t the worst problem. They could go without for a little longer, except Bucky came home after work one afternoon with a deep gash in his hand. It wasn’t even properly bandaged. He just had a piece of less than clean fabric wrapped around his palm that was now stained with blood.
Concerned, Steve asked, “What happened?”
He began to unwrap the makeshift gauze.
“It was fast,” Bucky said, “I think it mighta been a nail or something stuck out of a box.”
Steve examined the wound the best he could. “You’re gonna need a tetanus shot.”
It wasn’t as deep as Steve feared but it was deeper than a cut. It was still bleeding but it was slowing down. The biggest problem was that it wasn’t clean. There was dust, dirt and a streak of what looked like grease or oil dangerously close to the broken skin.
“We need to get this clean,” said Steve.
They went to the kitchenette sink and Steve ran the tap. The pipes made a choked sound before cold water pushed through the faucet but it wouldn’t be enough. It was early, but Steve took the loaf tin-turned-soap mold and cut a small bar from the full brick. It was still sickly beige in color but now had a thin layer on top made entirely of tiny air bubbles. That layer was fragile, and with a light swipe of his thumb the layer came away. He ran the bar under the water where it began to later and feel like any other bar he ever held. Bucky put his hand in the sink and Steve carefully washed the wound despite Bucky occasionally hissing from the sting of the soap.
“Keep your hand under the water,” Steve said when he was finished.
He went into a cabinet and took out a first-aid kit that was desperately in need of restocking. He turned off the tap, dried Bucky’s hand with a nearby- clean- dish rag and banaged him up with the last of the gauze in the kit.
“How’s that feel?”
Bucky flexed his fingers to loosen the gauze, “Good. Comfortable. Thanks, Steve.”
“Notta problem, Buck. But you’ll still need that tetanus shot.”
“I’ll get it done,” Bucky said as he made his way to their shared bedroom to change clothes.
Steve followed him to the living room and asked, “Foreman sent you home for the day, I guess?”
The bedroom door was mostly closed, but not completely.
“Yeah,” Bucky said while he changed out of this work clothes, “Said he didn’t need me bleeding all over the boxes or getting cut up worse.”
“What would the union have to say about that?”
“Not sure if they’d be pissed or happy I got sent home, honestly.”
~
The rest of the soap was able to cure without being sliced for premature use. A full cured bar was no prettier but it was firmer and any suspiciously boiled odor had finally gone away… at least for the most part. Using a wet knife, Steve evenly cut the entire loaf into usable bars about the width of what he’d pay for. He put a bar in his and Bucky’s toiletry bags, plus one at the kitchenette sink. The rest were stocked away.
The weather around that time was bad. It had been raining heavily for three days. The entire city was drenched. The constant rain, the moisture in the air, meant that no matter how layers you wore you never really shook the chill. Steve was about to get dinner ready when he heard Bucky come home. He stripped off his boots and hung up his coat leaving it to drip onto the floor. He went straight for the kitchenette to meet Steve.
“Hey, pal,” Bucky said as he reached for the kettle.
“Hey, Buck,” Steve leaned against the counter, “How was work?”
“Wet. Felt like I was taking a damn cold shower for ten hours. I’m gonna boil water for a hot bath.”
Steve understood. There was no point in trying to get warm, let alone hot, water from the communal shower two floors below. That was a luxury only when the hottest of summer days warmed t
he pipes. Steve pulled a sauce pot and larger pot from a cabinet and filled them with water. He put them on the stove to speed up the process of getting enough water.
Bucky left the room but called out, “Where’s the wash tub?”
“Holding dirty laundry in the bedroom!”
Steve heard those familiar floorboards creak under Bucky’s steps. In the bedroom Bucky emptied the tub of dirty clothes and brought it into the living room. He set it down behind the couch. When he heard the kettle start to whistle he took it off the stove and poured the steaming water into the tub. Steve followed, first with the sauce pot and then with the larger pot. The men boiled more water but it didn’t take long to get enough water. Once the wash tub was at the right level it was given some time to cool to a reasonable temperature.
Steve sat on the couch with his back to Bucky to give him some privacy while he undressed and eased himself into the water. Almost involuntarily Bucky moaned loudly as the water engulfed his body and warmed his core, finally chasing off the chill. At that sound goosebumps raised on the skin on the back of Steve’s neck. He swallowed hard, feeling his body stiffen. Steve had been doing so good.
He hadn’t found himself feeling this way in a while. He wanted to think he forgot about what the thumping in his chest felt like or the pang of heat. But he remembered well enough and, more distressingly, liked how they made him feel. The rush, anyway. Not the creeping shame or guilt. That always came later. Yet no matter how often he found himself feeling crummy he couldn’t help himself. Still, he didn’t want to acknowledge what he thought was the root. That was the one thing in his life he didn’t feel brave enough to face. But goddamn the steam from the makeshift bathtub seemed to waft over for the sole purpose of wrapping around Steve’s throat and pulling him over.
“Y’know, this is the life,” Bucky yawned.
Eyes forward, Steve forced his shoulders to relax.
“Pretty sure fellas livin’ the life aren’t bathing in their living room.”
Steve heard a small splash and assumed it was Bucky’s hand dropping in the water after waving off his comment.
“Hey, turn around,” said Bucky, “I don’t need to be talkin’ to your back.”
Oh, here it is, thought Steve. He turned around, resting his elbow on the top of the back cushion. Here it is, indeed. This big handsome man in a tin tub leaning back with his legs out and knees bent up over the rim. He had wetted his face and chest. Steve watched, but tried not to watch too much, as Bucky ran his wet fingers through his hair. From Steve’s vantage point he couldn’t see into the tub. So at least he couldn’t further violate Bucky’s modesty.
Steve caught himself staring when Bucky spoke, breaking his trance, “Mind grabbing the soap?”
To Steve that felt like the lucky out. He went to the bedroom to fetch the bar he had put in Bucky’s toiletry bag. Back in the living room, he handed Bucky the soap, purposely trying to keep his eyes out of the water.
Bucky smiled, “Thanks, buddy.”
Steve walked the long way back to the couch while Bucky used the soap under his arms and over his shoulders. He tried to get his back above the water line but couldn’t manage the entire space.
“Can you do me a favor?” he asked.
“Sure, whaddaya need?”
“Get my back?”
Not feeling like he could say no (and, frankly, not wanting to), once again Steve got up from the couch and walked over to Bucky. He crouched behind him and took the soap. “No problem.”
He rubbed the bar over what part of Bucky’s skin had evaded the suds. He then cupped water to rinse the bubbles away. All the while alarm bells rang in Steve’s head. He shouldn’t be washing a man’s back, let alone Bucky’s back when his feelings toward his best friend were so unnatural. He tried to be quick, but not so quick to rouse some suspicion something was wrong. He kept his eyes firmly on his hands until he made the mistake of peering over Bucky’s shoulders into the water. Between Bucky’s legs Steve could see his penis unmistakably hard.
Steve wanted to run. He wanted to get up and go someplace- anyplace- else. Not because he didn’t like seeing Bucky naked, let alone hard, but because he did. But instead he cupped more water over Bucky’s shoulders as if it was a form of meditation. Bucky made a sound that was somewhere between a moan and a sign of contentment. If only he knew what he was doing to his poor friend.
Steve tried to stop looking between Bucky’s legs but his gaze was fixed. He felt dirty, but the unfettered view from the safety of behind Bucky’s shoulders was too much temptation.
Bucky began to speak, his voice sounding as if it was also warmed by the water, “You’re worth your weight in gold. Know that?”
“That’s not very much.”
Bucky chuckled, seemingly more to himself than with Steve. Without warning he stood up from the tub. Steve also stood up just in time for Bucky to turn around so they were face to face. Steve wanted to say something about getting Bucky a towel but he was losing the fight to keep his eyes above Bucky’s waist. It was only a split second glance, but long enough for Bucky to catch.
“You know what hot water can do,” he said calmly.
“I do,” said Steve.
Something was different. This should have been banter. This should have been a dick joke and a friendly punch to the arm. Instead there was fluttering in Steve’s chest. It was Steve Steve wanting to tell Bucky to stay despite that not meaning a goddamn thing. Something was different, but it wasn’t wrong.
Bucky went into the bedroom leaving Steve to wonder if that exchange actually happened. He settled himself on their tatty armchair next to the couch with his sketchpad. He mindlessly doodled while Bucky got dressed and took care of emptying and cleaning out the wash tub. When he was finished Bucky turned the radio on but he spent most of the evening reading whatever pulp novel was on the coffee table. They did talk. They talked about regular things and Bucky didn’t sound disgusted or angry. He sounded like what happened was no big deal. So whereas most of the evening was familiar, the feeling deep in Steve’s gut was not.
Things felt a little more normal the next morning but it took a few days for Steve to completely feel back to the way things were. On Saturday night he was keeping himself entertained while Bucky was on a date. The last few hours had ticked by. Some drawing, a bit of light cleaning to keep up with things, a little reading and he even caught the end of Amos ‘n’ Andy. That was mostly for the background noise. When the program ended Steve turned off the radio. He was about to get changed for bed when the apartment door opened. Steve looked at the clock on the wall, “Figured you’d be gone for another hour or two.”
Bucky took off his shoes and socks and shrugged, “Dame wanted to call it a night.”
“Ouch.”
“Nah,” Bucky leaned against the wall, “We weren’t quite clicking. She was a doll but her perfume wasn’t right.”
Steve snorted slightly, “Her perfume?”
Bucky rolled his shoulders and looked lost in thought. “It’s real, Steve. Her perfume. I kissed her cheek when I picked her up and caught a whiff. Perfume wasn’t right.”
He seemed dead serious but Steve wasn’t entirely convinced he wasn’t being messed with. He was trying to figure out how perfume could be wrong. Too strong or just bad smelling- fine. But that’s not wrong. Maybe it was some sense you picked up when you dated enough. Steve was about to ask for clarification when Bucky said, “I’m gonna pour a bath.”
Steve turned to go change like he was going to when Bucky asked, “Hang out with me?”
He figured this was when Bucky really told him the problem with whatever her name was. Obliging, Steve sat on the couch while Bucky put the water on. He sketched mindlessly in his sketch pad and forgot what he was waiting for until he heard the kettle whistle. Bucky moved the wash tub behind the couch and filled it with the water from the kettle and pots. Just like the time before. Next to the tub he put down a washcloth and on top of that the homemade soap from his toiletry bag.
“Alright,” he kneeled next to the tub, “This one’s for you, Steve.”
Steve turned, “What?”
“I know you heard me. I poured this for you.”
“You’re kidding me,” said Steve.
Bucky shook his head. He checked the water with his elbow. “I never said I was pouring myself a bath.”
Bucky sounded normal. Hell, he sounded like this was the most normal thing in the world. Maybe this was something that was becoming normal in their tenement. Or maybe that’s what Steve wanted to believe. Regardless, the water was poured and it would be wasteful not to use it.
“I guess a bath before bed would be nice.”
Maybe this was just Bucky returning the favor. He’d get in the tub and Bucky would sit on the couch and they would just chat and laugh. That was plausible. The scenario was sound in his head until he found himself undressing under Bucky’s watch. First went his shirt, that was easy. His undershirt was also easy. He was slower with his pants. When he was standing in only his underwear he asked quietly, “You mind?”
Silently, Bucky turned his head and shut his eyes. With the modicum of privacy granted Steve stripped off his shorts and gingerly stepped into the bath. The water was hotter than he would have preferred but he sat down anyway. Bucky took into account Steve’s smaller size and filled the tub the perfect amount. Tense as he was, it did help.
Bucky slowly turned his head back and opened his eyes. Trying to be casual Steve washed his face and wet his hair. Bucky stayed silent and only occasionally looked off at something else in the room.
“How’s the water?” he asked.
“It’s good, really nice,” Steve said.
“Good, good,” Bucky sounded distracted, like there was something else in his head. As if to confirm his mind was elsewhere Bucky put his hand in the water, the back of it brushing against Steve’s leg.
“Y’know,” Bucky began to say as he looked down at his hand and absent-mindedly swirled water in small circles, “I wasn’t expecting perfume tonight.”
Steve made a noise to signal that he heard. He was too preoccupied trying not to fixate on the feeling of water eddying or the errant touch of Bucky’s hand.
“Maybe I should have,” Bucky continued with his soliloquy, “It’s not exactly unusual. You know them dames love smelling nice. But it wasn’t right.”
“So you’ve said.”
Steve thought he was going mad. He could swear Bucky was bumping his hand into him on purpose. But it was when Bucky cupped some bathwater to pour on Steve’s shoulders that Steve really thought he was losing it. He closed his eyes and sighed as the hot water ran down his back and chest. Maybe when he opened his eyes this would all be a dream. Maybe being insane wasn’t so bad. Eyes still closed, he heard Bucky part his lips and continue.
“Up, on your knees and turn around.”
Steve’s eyes shot open. What he saw was Bucky taking the washcloth and dunking it in the bath. He wrang out the excess water and hung it on the wash tub’s edge.
“Up,” he repeated.
If there was a rational explanation Steve couldn’t think of it but he’d be lying if he wasn’t morbidly curious where this was going. Or at least that’s what he told himself as he propped himself up on his knees. For the first time he noticed the slight nip in the air, especially around his groin. He was thankful that he was soft, but why would be thinking that in the first place?
Bucky dribbled some water over the bar of soap. With it wet he softly soaped Steve’s chest. “Even when we were apart… when I got a drink, going to the john… I just smelled perfume. And it just got worse.”
“Funny how that goes,” Steve said shakily.
Bucky used the washcloth to wipe away the suds. He dipped it back in the water to refresh it before washing Steve’s neck and under his chin. “Didn’t I tell you to turn around?”
Steve hesitated for only a second before turning. At this point protesting was pointless. Somehow facing away from Bucky made him feel more exposed. He closed his eyes and took a long, steading breath as he listened to Bucky preparing the soap for more use. He felt like it took a long time between that and feeling the lather between his shoulder blades. Bucky slid the bar lower left and then lower right, talking as if nothing was out of the ordinary, “It hit me when that dame was smiling at me all sweet and whispered some nonsense in my ear about how much fun she was having. She smelled wrong because it wasn’t soap.”
“Soap?”
Steve felt like he could feel every single individual fiber from the washcloth as it moved over his body. The soap slicked his skin with a layer of bubbles but that didn’t dull the millions of tiny loops of cotton dragging over his flesh. When the washcloth reached the small of his back Steve felt it get pulled away. Eyes still closed, he heard Bucky take water into his hands. He felt the touch of his friend and the water flow down from where his neck met his back down to wash away any leftover suds.
Bucky said, “This… it smells like almost nothing. But I know it.”
Steve closed his eyes tighter as he felt more water run over his ass. His voice was ill at ease and quiet. He wasn’t even sure if Bucky had heard him. “What are you getting at?”
Bucky put one hand on Steve’s hip and with the other used the washcloth to wash over Steve’s backside. Before he could stop himself Steve moaned. Like his voice it was quiet, possibly more of a low grunt, but it happened and Bucky heard it. In the blackness behind his eyes the familiar sound of Bucky dunking the washcloth in the water was seemingly the loudest thing in the world.
“All I wanted all night,” Bucky said huskily, twisting out water from the washcloth over the cleft of Steve’s ass, “was the smell of your soap.”
Steve’s mouth opened to speak but the word was more of a breath of air, “Bucky…”
The water was still comfortably warm. That, with Bucky tending to him and his touch had finally gotten Steve half-hard. Despite Steve assuming Bucky could see, Bucky was behind Steve enough so that he couldn't see his erection. Instead, Bucky was interested in another part of Steve’s anatomy. Like so many times before he saturated the washcloth but this time he used his free hand to spread one of Steve’s cheeks. Steve tried to stifle the sound that formed deep in his throat but it was no use. With his asshole more exposed he moaned again as Bucky squeezed more water so the stream ran down directly over his hole.
“All I wanted… all I’ve wanted for a long time…”
Steve stayed silent until Bucky used the washcloth to physically wash his hole.
“O-oh, God, Bucky,” groaned Steve who had gotten fully hard.
“It hit me tonight, Steve,” Bucky said as he continued to mind Steve’s intimate skin, “All the little things you do. This soap. I thought about it the first time I used your soap in the shower but tonight, dammit, I knew it.”
“I can’t believe what you’re saying, Buck.”
Bucky gave one final one handed squeeze of the washcloth and watched Steve hold pucker at the warmth of the water. “You’ve let me do this much. Don’t ask me to stop.”
Finally, Steve looked over his shoulder. Bucky was stone still looking at him. He looked the same as he did when he poured the bath except for a bit of sweat at his hairline and bulge in his trousers. Steve’s heart skipped a beat. “I don’t want you to stop.”
And Bucky smiled. It was restrained, possibly being more of a smirk, but it was genuine and not quite like anything Steve had seen before.
“Turn back around. I’m not done yet.”
His knees were starting to hurt but Steve complied. Bucky took the soap and washcloth to Steve’s groin. The bubbles from the bar caught in the sparse hair Steve had down there so Bucky paid extra attention to make sure the area was rinsed clean, being extra gently around Steve’s cock. Steve put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder for support. He looked down and saw Bucky trying to adjust his own erection in his pants.
“Here,” he washed the last of the lather away and helped Steve up to his feet. He let the washcloth fall into the wash tub with a heavy splash that seemed to echo through the entire apartment. With Steve no longer bound inside a metal wall Bucky took his hands and said, “You said you don’t want me to stop.”
“And I’m not about to ask you to stop.”
Bucky grinned, “Then let’s get you into bed before you catch something.”
He helped Steve step out of the washtub and pulled him into their bedroom. He spun Steve around so Bucky was behind him and pressed against his body. Bucky kissed Steve’s neck and braced his arm over Steve’s chest to keep him as close as could be. Steve gasped, and instinctively grabbed Bucky’s arm. He gripped Bucky’s arm not as a means to pull it away but instead to keep the limb in place. Bucky’s arm felt like a comfortable weight tethering the two together while Bucky continued to kiss his neck and shoulders. Bucky’s free hand worked to pull off his belt and unbutton his pants. He pushed his trousers down and kicked them away. Steve could more easily feel Bucky’s hard cock pressing into his ass but they were still the shielding layer of cotton between them. For only as long as was required Bucky took his arm back so he could take off his shirt, undershirt and underwear. When he was as naked as Steve he returned his arm to wrap across Steve’s chest.
“You smell so good,” he groaned in Steve’s ear as he caught the lingering scent of soap. He pressed his cock harder into Steve and said, “Feel this?”
“Yes,” grunted Steve.
“You got me so goddamn hard, baby,” Bucky reached down with his free hand and stroked Steve’s cock, “Feels good you are, too.”
Bucky kept playing with Steve. He got used to how Steve felt in his hand and traced his cock head with his thumb. He felt himself get harder, if that were even possible. Steve was making soft little noises in delight and Bucky could feel Steve’s chest rise quickly and hold in breath when he changed how he was using his hand. Steve had mostly air dried but there were a few drops of water left on Steve’s warm, clean skin. He whispered, “You take care of the house, I’m gonna take care of you.”
If Steve wasn’t being held up and so close his knees might have given away but he still reached back and grabbed Bucky’s leg for support. Bucky smiled into Steve’s shoulder. He knew the steps even if the song was different. A kiss here, hold ‘em close, a kiss there, say something sweet. Except this dance was going to end with more than a goodnight peck or hands going to places they shouldn’t. He was a man. And he was going to do everything a man does in the bedroom.
Bucky released Steve’s cock and the two took a few steps to Bucky’s bed. Bucky sat at the edge of the mattress and pulled Steve into his lap. He swept a few loose hairs that were in front of Steve’s eyes to behind his ear. At the same time he took Steve’s hand and put it on his cock.
“Touch me, Steve.”
With that permission Steve began to jerk Bucky off. He started off slow without holding too tight. At first he was more so getting used to just having Bucky’s cock in his hand. He was thick and felt harder than Steve ever recognized himself getting, but that could probably be blamed on one of Steve’s many health issues. Comfortable with it in his hand, Steve tightened his hold and his strokes became longer going over Bucky’s entire shaft. He was looking down and thought that Bucky’s big cock made his hand look smaller. Bucky was also watching excitedly, biting his lip and groaning, “You like me in your hand?”
“I do,” said Steve but keeping his eyes in between Bucky’s legs.
Rather than let that go Bucky tipped Steve’s chin up so they were eye-to-eye. He gave Steve a deep kiss on the lips before asking in a murmur, “Can you take my cock in your mouth?”
“Lay down and let’s find out,” replied Steve.
Bucky smirked as Steve shifted off his lap and onto the bed. He liked the sass; even in this strange new world Steve was still Steve. He got comfortable on his back and watched as Steve positioned himself. He started with a curious lick at Bucky’s tip but that turned into a slow, deliberate lick from tip to base and then back up. It gave Bucky goosebumps and his hand flew to hold Steve’s head. One lick, two licks before Steve took Bucky into his mouth. His head bobbed and he ran his tongue down Bucky’s length as it went inside.
“Yeah, baby,” moaned Bucky, “Doin’ it exactly- fuck, you know how I like it.”
Bucky put some pressure on Steve’s head and Steve took that to suck more. He relaxed his mouth and took more in and when he got comfortable with however much he took he sucked faster. He got sloppier, letting his saliva run down Bucky’s shaft. If he liked how Bucky’s cock felt in his hand, he loved how it felt in his mouth. At one point Steve looked up. Bucky’s eyes were half-lidded but watching intensely, taking long and ragged breaths. What Bucky saw was Steve’s cheeks colored by exertion and his lips pink and glossy. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, much less when Steve nearly gagged when he got a bit over ambitious. That’s what nearly did it.
Bucky pulled Steve’s head away, allowing him to catch his breath.
“Almost made me blow my load, baby.”
Steve wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, savoring the sight of Bucky working to steady his breathing and regain composure.
“Alright,” Bucky said, “Now it’s my turn.”
They switched places so Steve was now on his back and Bucky was between his legs. He got right to taking Steve’s cock in his mouth, running his tongue over every inch and making sure every bit of Steve’s shaft was given attention. Steve’s knees went up and he was louder than he should have been but was trying his damndest to keep it down.
“Looks like you’re enjoying this,” said Bucky at a time his mouth wasn’t engaged, “Am I treating you right, baby?”
“Yes!”
He swirled his tongue at the tip, “Gotta do my share around here and keep my baby satisfied.”
Steve was breathing heavily, “You do plenty, Buck.”
“Maybe,” Bucky said before gently sucking Steve’s balls, “But you’re my guy who deserves everything I can give. Including a good fucking.”
There was a lot to unpack right then but Steve focused on one part above the rest.
“Am I your guy?” he asked.
Bucky got on top of Steve so they were at face level with each other; the same position he should have been with a dame. “It’s really lookin’ like it.”
Steve’s heart swelled with affection and happiness in a way he never felt before. He cupped Bucky’s face in his hands and said simply, “And you’re my guy.”
Bucky smiled but the lust couldn’t completely be hidden in his face. “Let me get back to sucking that pretty cock.”
Steve let go of Bucky who returned to Steve’s cock. As if he never stop he sucked Steve off with one change: his hand began to wander. He rubbed one of Steve’s thighs down to his groin where he slicked his finger with saliva and further trailed down to Steve’s asshole.
“Jesus,” Steve moaned with a roll of his hips.
Bucky gently massaged Steve’s hole while he took Steve’s cock in his mouth, every so often spreading more saliva to keep Steve wet. When Steve couldn’t stop squirming he stopped. Before Steve could say anything Bucky flipped him over onto his stomach. Steve reached for a nearby pillow to put under his chest for support but Bucky didn’t wait before he spread Steve’s ass wide open and and giving his hole a firm lick.
“Bucky!” Steve exclaimed through gritted teeth.
“I gotta eat you out, baby. Need to make sure you’re wet enough for me. Plus this little hole of yours looks too good not to taste. Once you’re ready I’m gonna fuck you so good. Hell, it’ll be making love.”
All Steve could do was just whine and whimper as he felt Bucky’s tongue. It was the strangest feeling that made him clench and then relax before clenching again because Bucky used more pressure or licked some new way. His tongue went up in straight little lines or swirled around using just the tip or even avoided his hole directly and just licked around it- just to be a tease.
Bucky wasn’t done talking, “Amazing. You taste so clean. Almost a shame how I’m gonna dirty you up. But, baby, I promise it’ll be worth it and I’ll clean you right up again.”
Steve tried to rub himself into the sheets but Bucky was holding him firmly in place. He had thought he had finally gotten used to how being eaten out felt until he felt himself be breached. He made a shocked sound but Bucky didn’t stop. He pushed his tongue deeper inside of Steve until he could tongue fuck him to get the muscle loose and ready for more; more coming when Bucky inserted a finger. Involuntarily Steve clenched around the digit.
“Whuh-”
“What, baby boy?” Bucky cooed, “I can’t just go and stick my cock in you. Gotta get you wet, remember? And nice and open. Shit, I can barely move my finger. Seems like I got a’ ways to go.”
Steve tried to take long, slow breaths in and expel them the same way. After a few breaths he slowly relaxed enough that Bucky could use his finger, fucking him with it. Still, he never went too long without giving the area a wet lick to keep things lubricated. It became so easy that Bucky tried another finger. He simultaneously used those two fingers and his mouth, happy with the progress he was making on getting Steve ready.
Steve was panting, trying desperately to keep his voice down. Never in his life did he think this- hell he never imagined this! Nevermind how it made his body feel like he never thought it could. He couldn’t stop himself from squirming again, just needing to move and get some stimulation for his cock, even if it was just against the bed. Bucky was also starting to really need. His cock was throbbing, bordering on aching. He tried to relieve some of the pressure with a few jerks, more like flicks of his wrist, but it wasn’t enough. He was about to suggest they move on when Steve sighed, “I’m ready, Bucky. I need you.”
Thank god, Bucky thought. He removed his fingers but finished with a playful tap on Steve’s left buttock. Steve gasped and looked over his shoulder. Bucky, complete with cocky grin, used the bed’s blanket to dry his face. He got off the bed and said to Steve, “Get ready on your back.”
Steve rolled over and put the pillow under his head as Bucky went to the bedside table. It served as a de facto junk drawer but had exactly what they needed. He fished through the contents until he pulled out a Vaseline jar. He unscrewed the lid, putting it on the table, before getting back on the bed. He put Steve’s knees up so he would have better access when he rubbed a glob of the jelly onto Steve’s hole. For good measure he pushed his forefinger up to the knuckle, just to be sure Steve was still ready. Satisfied, he lubed up his cock and got on top of Steve.
“I’m ready,” Steve said as he wrapped his arms around Bucky.
“Ok, Steve,” Bucky guided his cock into Steve’s tight entrance, “Here we go.”
He went slow, seemingly slower than he had ever done anything else in his life.
“Oh, oh, God, Bucky,” Steve voiced hoarsely.
Bucky bit his lip and was at a loss for words. This was nothing like when he was fingering Steve. This was a feeling he couldn’t prepare for. The worst summer heatwave couldn’t compare to how hot he felt as he tried to push himself deeper. He was taking his time and did find a steady rhythm, but the pace was as much for himself as to be gentle for Steve.
Steve grabbed Bucky’s shoulders so hard his knuckles almost turned white. He needed Bucky to be closer. They were, of course, as physically close as two people could be but it wasn’t enough. He didn’t want there to be an inch of space between their bodies. Only when Bucky was close enough to kiss his neck was it enough.
“You’re fillin’ me up so much,” moaned Steve.
“Yeah, yeah,” grunted Bucky, “You’re gonna get even more, baby.”
His cock was moving a lot smoother so Bucky was able to put more of himself inside. He didn’t go much faster, but by now Steve was taking just about every inch Bucky had to give.
“More,” said Steve, wrapping his legs around Bucky’s waist, “I want more.”
Despite not having more to give, Bucky could give what he had faster. “Anything.”
He sped up, making the conscious effort to keep fucking Steve about as deeply. He nestled his face in the space between Steve’s shoulder and neck and breathed heavy into Steve’s skin. He could feel Steve practically shaking underneath him.
“I gotta make sure this hole… this body is takin’ care of because Lord knows it’s taking care of me.”
Steve’s breath hitched, “Fuck, Bucky. Could you touch me?”
“Shit,” Bucky propped himself up on his knees so he could take Steve’s cock. The slightly higher vantage point meant Bucky got a nice look at Steve; his hair mussed, eyes dilated and still with those ruddy cheeks, “God, you’re so sexy.”
Steve’s eyes nearly rolled back in his skull when Bucky got jerking him off in tandem to the fucking. Still, he fought that so he could watch as his member glided through Bucky’s palm. His hips jutted to make the most out of it and get every bit of friction from Bucky’s hand. Between everything it wasn’t long before Steve body was reaching it’s climax.
“I’m gonna cum. You’re gonna make me-”
“That’s right, baby boy,” said Bucky, “Cum for me. All over my hand. I wanna see it and I wanna feel it.”
And by feel it Bucky didn’t quite mean warm spunk in his hand. In a few moments Steve’s orgasm hit him like a wave that crashed over him from head to toe. He spurted all over his stomach and what didn’t go far enough ran down Bucky’s hand. As beautiful as that sight was Bucky was taken more with the spasms as Steve’s body contracted around his cock. It felt like he was fucking Steve through his orgasm for simultaneously forever and for not long enough.
Steve said, his voice fatigued, “Buck.”
“You ok, baby?”
Steve nodded and smiled with heavy eyes that, despite everything, were still full of arousal, “Cum in me.”
That was music to Bucky’s ears. He lowered himself back full on top of Steve and felt the smear of semen on his stomach. He plowed into Steve with everything he could muster and in response Steve kissed Bucky and wouldn’t stop. With each thrust and each kiss he came closer to his own end until he growled, “Now.”
He shot his seed into Steve and kept thrusting little by little until every part of him was spent and Steve was filled by flesh and cum. He gave Steve one final kiss before pulling himself out. He took two deep breaths and brushed his hair back. “Wait here.”
He got up and left the room but wasn’t gone for more than a few seconds. The wash tub water was cooler, but not too cold. He wetted the washcloth and brought it back to the bedroom. Steve had flipped over onto his stomach which Bucky thought was just perfect. Bucky got back on the bed and, so much like before, spread Steve’s ass. He saw Steve’s ass occasionally tense and then relax, pushing Bucky’s semen out to drip down to the bed sheet. Bucky thought he felt a twitch in his cock but he had a job to do. Softly, he took the washcloth and cleaned Steve.
“Push what you can out,” he said.
A bit more came out and Bucky dutifully wiped it away. “I couldn’t let you stay dirty. I promised to clean you up.”
Steve rolled over, “It’s not dirty with you. No matter what we’re doing.”
Bucky gave Steve’s stomach a wipe of the washcloth. When he was finished he dropped the washcloth to the floor. He laid down next to Steve and pulled the blanket up over them.
“That was damn something, “ he said. There was a pause before he added, “I meant what I said, about taking care of you.”
“That better not be pity,” Steve replied, almost defiantly.
“Never. A punk like you doesn’t need pity. I never did pity you and never will. I want to take care of you because I love you.”
The way Bucky said it was so matter of fact like it was common knowledge. Steve thought about how incredulous that was but before he could protest or probe a realization hit him. Bucky would never admit it, he’d just say he was pulling his weight by being the reliable paycheck. But all the hours he worked, support he gave, always being in his corner and being Steve’s best friend: that was love. The sex was just another expression of that love. Finally, Steve could put a name to how he felt and was finally brave enough to say it.
“I love you, too.”
They shared another kiss and Bucky, with a look in his eye now well-known to Steve, said, “I’m glad. Because I want to do a whole lot more caring for you.”