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pulling his slightly too big pj pants over his waist, steve prepared for a quiet night in. another quiet night in. another night of his tightly tucked sheets being the only thing pressing him into the mattress. switching on the radio, he climbed into bed ready for the late night station to lull him to sleep. teddy bear at his side, steve stared at his ceiling wondering what bucky was up to that night. had he taken you to the movies? to dinner? did you even like him?
technically he could’ve gone with his best friend on another “double” date where he twiddled his thumbs as his date watched the clock but he didn’t feel like being a loser today. he’s not a loser and hated being treated like one. despite his laundry list of health issues and tiny stature he never felt smaller than 6’5 and it showed. if only people outside of head were able to see it.
if he were honest with himself he was avoiding the double date for two reasons. the first reason being he was tired of being a 4th wheel, but the second was he could barely keep his cheeks from burning every time you spoke to him. you, his best friends girlfriend. you, who tried in earnest to find him a date. there was only so much time he could spend watching bucky dote on you.
he wished you never said yes to bucky, or rather, that he’d had the courage to ask you out himself. you always laughed at steve’s jokes and playfully poked him when he tried to flex his little arms like a swimsuit model. you were a good enough friend to him to pretend not to see how red he got from the effort. every time you scrunched your nose at him and giggled sometimes he’d think “maybe just maybe there could be something there.” he knew the truth though, the closest he’d ever get to you was through bucky. pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh, he smashed his teddy against his face hoping to beat the thoughts of you out of his mind. perhaps the soulless bear would have the answer to the question he asked himself every day. he held it above his head, arms outstretched asking
“why is it never me?”
letting the poor stuffed animal out its prison in the sky he decided he’d tortured himself enough for one night. turning over, he cuddled his only (present) friend close and closed his eyes.
just as his mind started to drift he heard the key in the door. he could afford to delay his sleep for a few minutes to see his best friend and ask about his night. it might sting a little every time bucky got that glint in his eye talking about you but he was a friend first, loverboy second.
“hey buck-“ the words caught in steve’s throat as he looked out into the living room. bucky had you pinned against the door, his hands roaming up and down your body. you were smirking as he whispered something steve couldn’t hear into your ear. he watched as you pressed your body closer to bucky, oblivious to steve’s presence. your boyfriend’s roommate didn’t even cross your mind in the dark apartment. you had no knowledge of the way he bit his lip as he watched his best friend’s hand disappear under your dress.
with a squeak steve stepped back into his room. tiptoeing, he tried his best to close the door quietly and prayed that you’d been too busy with each other to notice his intrusion. his heart was beating so hard he thought his ribs would crack. now he had to go to sleep. he begged for mercy, for god, for the sandman, for anything to free him from imagining what bucky’s hands felt like…on yours.
he could hear you. your muffled voices carried through the cramped apartment and straight to steve ears . the giggling telling each other to keep it down. the sighs. the rustling of removed clothes. he could hear you. staring at his blank ceiling he imagined how soft your lips looked with bucky’s saliva on them. were your cheeks flushed? stop. he thought about how his hand would feel on your waist. his knee between your…
turning over with a huff he tried to erase all thoughts of you and his best friend. he wouldn’t think about what you could possibly be up to in the adjoining room just a few feet from his door.
you weren’t making it easy for him. the thin walls made him feel like he was in the room with you. quietly, he screamed into his mattress with his pillow over his ears.
“shutup shutup shutup. go to sleep steve, go to sleep.”
he began to squirm without intention. he was just uncomfortable. kicking his legs and wriggling. he wasn’t doing it on purpose. at some point he began to slowly grind into the mattress. gently, against his will. it was the pressure of the bed or the volume of your whining or the position his leg was in. he didn’t mean it. he tried to ignore how good the friction felt when he let his mind drift a little. when he realized what he was doing his eyes snapped open. his cheeks were burning and his half-hard dick was begging for him to continue rutting into the mattress. begging for him to touch himself. relieve the mounting pressure. a frustrated tear formed in his eye as he groaned into the mattress.
why him?
one word did it. “bucky.” he heard you say it through the wall. “bucky.” his eyes bored holes through the wall, desperately wanting to know what was making you sing with pleasure. “bucky” you moaned as he sucked your clit, legs pinned to the bed. “bucky” steve said in a trance, his hand squeezing his dick over his pants.
the fight against steve’s mind was reaching a crescendo. he wanted so badly to remove the two thin layers of clothing that bound him. the sound of your shared breaths left his dick throbbing with a need to connect his lips to yours. he longed to hear his name on your breath.
steve traced his lips with his hand, imagining it was your hand tenderly stroking his face. he closed his eyes and ran his hands down his chest stopping just above his underwear. he teased himself pretending his palm was yours, adding and removing pressure with circles of his thumb. with a little saliva on his finger he could pretend it was your tongue grazing him, making sure to outline the head.
bucky stopped for a second, ignoring the frustrated and confused noise that came from you. he stopped to look up at you from his position, akin to sniper. when he had you like this he could see all of you and into you. he slowly pushed and pulled his fingers inside you watching as your chest rose and fell. your chest. you looked so perfect from this angle. his mind clouded with the desire to swallow all of you. to have his fingers and mouth roam every inch of you.
you could see bucky’s passion for you in his eyes but you wanted to taste it. he could tell you how much he adored you and cared for you through each swipe of his tongue on yours. through the tickle of his rough breaths on your upper lip. sick of waiting you pulled him from his enchantment with watching you squeeze around his fingers. he had no hint of hesitation. only a few minutes had passed since your lips last connected but he kissed you like he hadn’t tasted you in years. barely able to breathe you pulled his head back with your fingers knotted in his hair. it was a futile effort. he whined and smashed himself back into you, warning you not to do it again. he allowed his hands to leave their position on your back to lay you down solely so he could attach his hands to your breasts. lazily he opened his eyes to see your face of pleasures as he rolled your nipple between his rough fingers. you reached down to coat your fingers in your own arousal and shove them into his mouth. his tongue lie waiting to taste you again but you instead reached down to slowly pump his untouched dick. he jerked as you tightened your grip as you reached the head, giving him the attention he hadn’t realized he needed.
steve just wanted to release the pressure. just needed to let off a little steam, take the edge off, or whatever phrase made him feel less guilty about jerking off to his best friend and his girlfriend. he dropped most of his shame with his pants, deciding there was no turning back anyway. he was painfully hard and his body buzzed with desire and the risk of being heard by you. maybe he wanted to be, he thought. maybe the sound of his desperation would carry through the paper thin walls and you would hear how crazy you made him.
at the same moment that you had taken bucky into your hands, steve had wrapped his own around himself. they were matched breath for breath, stroke for stroke, though neither really knew it yet. having switched your positions you sat straddled across bucky’s thick thighs, your hand slowly squeezing the length of him. his lip caught in between his teeth. he couldn’t think of a word to say. there was nothing to say. his mind was covered in pink clouds, his hands on your waist rubbing his praises into your hips and ass. the shallow crescent shaped imprints of his nails told you how pretty you were, even if the words were caught on his lips as he tried to fight through the spell you had him under. he hoped the intensity of his gaze spelled out how lucky he felt and how good you were making him feel. you looked directly into his eyes as you picked up your pace, his head pressing further back into the mattress then rising again to meet your gaze. the satisfied look in your eye only made him want you more. he released his bottom lip from his teeth only when you used your other hand to trace the seam of his balls. a hoarse noise escaped his throat as he spun deeper.
“i hope-“ squeeze.
“steve-” pump.
“can’t hear” squeeze.
bucky’s first coherent sentence of the night.
with every tight-lipped groan from bucky, steve thrusted up into his hand. he was addicted to the sound of him. with every noise he felt closer to the brink. he shook his head as if to condemn himself in real time. a part of him felt dirty. his hand hesitated for just a moment and the temporary loss of contact almost brought a tear to his eye. in that pitch black room he accepted fate and slavery to his own pleasure. with every somber turn of his head he stepped closer to release. bucky had said his name so weakly. steve struggled to suppress a whimper at the thought. the sound of his best friend falling apart saying his name was making him dizzy.
“steve.” steve replayed in his mind. “steve.” he closed his eyes. what he wouldn’t give to be in that room. to feel the energy swirling, barely contained by the four walls. to get lost in a tangle of limbs, sweat, and arousal. to sink deep into you and mark you as his. to have a set of hands in his hair and another on his chest. the room was beginning to vibrate as he imagined your body pinned between the two of them, your lipstick covering his face and bucky’s hand abusing your clit. just for tonight he entertained the idea of sharing you. the idea of absorbing every sound you made into his mouth. to have bucky pressing you into him, the energy radiating through you between the two of them. the pulse of your pussy squeezing him as you came.
bucky’s favorite position is missionary. he doesn’t want to miss a second of you, of any expression. of any movement. he loves being above you, watching his dick disappear inside of you. he loves the warmth you give him inside and out. he loves watching your hair tangle as you’re pressed into the mattress.
tonight he wants to make love. lifting your leg, he kisses from your ankle to your inner thigh, skipping not one inch. he places a lazy kiss on your waist before rubbing an indiscernible pattern into your thigh. he cant resist biting a bruise into the soft flesh. when you yelp he quickly soothes the blossoming bruise with a thousand gentle kisses. your thigh is throbbing and you want nothing more than to tell him to hurry up. to just give you what he knows you need, but his eyes are too full of a dark mix of love and lust. he wants just a little longer to tell you how perfect you are, to kiss the creases of your thighs and hips. to rub circles on your lower back. whispers of how pretty you are just barely reach your ears as his nose nudges your clit. the flood just below his jawbone convinces him to give in. there’s nothing closer, better, or more intimate than being buried to the hilt inside you.
you both sigh when he finally pushes inside of you. he’s determined to take it slow, even as you wrap your legs around his hips. even as you tell him how badly you need him. even as you scratch all ten fingers down his back and he shivers violently. he keeps a slow intimate pace, rhythmically pushing into you and pulling back. there is nothing rough, only soft edges. he struggles to hold balance and stroke your cheek, barely managing a smile as he feels the too-fast-approaching high.
he wanted to extend the time he had with you. to hold you in that moment for a little longer. the edges of the world began to fuzz with each slow roll of his hips. you were too soft, too warm, too inviting, sucking him in deeper with every flutter. he had to pull out. the sudden action elicited a groan from you but he didn’t give you time to miss him. he took advantage of your legs hooked around his hips to drag himself painfully slowly back and forth across your swollen bud. a sticky mix of precum and your arousal trailed after him, leaving the surface of you a mess. with every thrust his dick grazed the fresh bite mark, adding a little pain to your pleasure.
he refused to come undone until you did. he decided to hit you from all sides. realigning himself with your entrance he made quick work of overwhelming you with sensation. slow strokes prodding your g-spot and showered kisses. your voice reached another pitch when he rolled your clit between his thumb and pointer finger. he caught your lips in a kiss to muffle the noise of your orgasm, silently praying the soft sound of the radio next door was enough to cover the sound of him spilling into you.
steve was practically drooling over the sounds that carried into his bedroom. he could hear how wet you were, your quiet whimpers overshadowed by bucky’s grunting. he was fighting to stay quiet himself, his jaw stiff as he twisted his hands over the tip. he slapped a hand over his mouth, moaning through his fingers as he heard what had to be the sound of both of you cumming. your voices together sounded so desperate. so in love. his face burned with jealousy. he kept thrusting into his hand, his thumb focused on the tip. the other he kept over his mouth as he was sure that you’d be able to hear him now that you were done making your own noise. even with no moans slipping through his fingers, his chest heaved as he bucked desperately into his splayed fingers. his eyes screwed shut as he remembered the sound of his name on bucky’s lips. steve momentarily uncovered his mouth to reach onto his side table and retrieve the t-shirt he’d let you borrow. it smelled of an intoxicating mix of bucky’s cologne and your perfume. the two people he so desperately and shamefully wanted were just out of reach. draping the shirt over his face. he opened his mouth to coat the shirt in his spit and suck it back out. excess saliva dribbled down the side of his mouth, sticking the shirt to the sides of his face. he hoped there was a trace of you. steve wanted anything of you he could taste. he took a deep breath in, the scent of you penetrating deep into his nostrils. on the out breath his chest was splattered with cum and the thin t-shirt did nothing to muffle the sound of your names as he cried out.
the shame slaps him like an 8 foot wave. he realizes what he’s done, and more importantly, what he said. he continued to spout a jumbled combination of names, bucky’s and yours as he twitched violently, his hand still making rounds on the overly sensitive, angry, head. he slowed to a stop. the mess on his chest suddenly feels cold as he uses the you-scented t-shirt to wipe himself off. he held his breath waiting for a knock on his door or the wall or for bucky to call out to him, letting him know his sin hadn’t been a secret. bringing his pillow to its previous resting place he let out an exasperated scream. with every second that passed he felt his cheeks get pinker and pinker as he reckoned with his attraction to his best friend. he remembered how desperately bucky had said his name and screamed again.
that’s when the knock came.
“hey buddy, you alright in there?”
steve’s cheeks turned fire engine red at the gentleness with which he spoke to him.
on the other side of the wall, the pair of lovers’ cheeks stained the same shade of red. they were embarrassed at the thought that steve might have heard them, but ultimately unbothered as they settled into eachothers arms. all three people in the tiny apartment drifted to sleep with curious thoughts of the events in the other room.