"So what d'you think about discipline and stuff?"
Before you have a baby with someone, it turns out there are a lot of things you need to discuss. Planning to parent seems a lot more complicated than actually parenting, from Steve's perspective. Bucky's bought a thousand books on the subject, of course, because he's always been a fucking nerd and his latest method of fighting anxiety is to gather as much information as possible. Steve's been too nervous to even look at them so far.
"Discipline?" Steve cocks his head curiously, turning to face his husband on the couch. The movie has been forgotten for a while, given up on when they started having another Serious Discussion about their future child. "Like spanking?"
Given the way they grew up, when spanking wasn't a form of discipline but the form of discipline, it's not unreasonable that it's the first thing that comes into his head. Bucky nods seriously, having clearly gone through the same thought process himself, and slings his metal arm over the back of the couch so they can talk about this head on.
"Yep. I just wanna be clear that it's never on the table, ever. Not that I think you'd be for it anyway, but it's non-negotiable. No corporal punishment, ever." Steve opens his mouth to agree with Bucky's vehemence, but before he can get the words out – "I mean, you can spank me, Rogers, but you can't spank our kid."
Steve blinks. Bucky realises what he's said and turns red as a tomato.
This is too sweet.
"I can spank you?" Steve's lips curl up into a disbelieving little smirk and Bucky covers his eyes with a groan. "Was that a Freudian slip?"
"Freud's been almost entirely discredited." He mutters without looking at Steve, which isn't a denial.
"Bucky." Steve tries to fix him with a serious look when he finally uncovers his eyes, but he's too pleased with the situation (and Bucky's embarrassment, because he's always the one showing Steve up and a little payback is very satisfying) to control his face. "Do you want me to spank you?"
They used to do this back in the day, before the war and HYDRA and losing each other. Then, when Bucky came in from the cold, he flinched at raised voices and straight up ducked if someone raised their hand too fast. Anything even resembling violence was totally out of the question, and Steve didn't dare to push Bucky's boundaries beyond a slow, clearly-telegraphed hug for a long time (and still found himself pinned to the floor under three hundred pounds of frightened super-soldier on more than one occasion). They've come a hell of a long way since then, and the fact that they could get this part of their relationship back, long after Steve had given up hoping for it, is a fucking miracle.
"I—. We're—. This is supposed to be a serious discussion about our future." Bucky's flustered, trying to throw Steve off track, but Steve's like a shark once he gets a taste of blood in the water.
"I mean, we could have a serious discussion." He muses, as if he's seriously considering it, and Bucky's shoulders slump a fraction with something that could be relief or disappointment. "Or you could go take your pants off and get on the bed so I can spank the hell outta you."
Bucky hesitates for a second, looking frazzled and slightly torn, then shoves himself off the couch and disappears into the bedroom, already fighting with his belt. Steve takes the opportunity to do a mini victory dance where he can't be seen (how America hasn't figured out he's a fucking dork, he'll never know), before following Bucky to the bedroom at a much more sedate pace.
The sight of his husband on their bed, naked on his hands and knees with his thick ass and thighs facing the door, stops Steve in his tracks for a second and makes his mouth go suddenly dry. It doesn't seem to matter how many times he sees him, he's pretty sure Bucky Barnes will always blow his mind.
"We gonna do this? Or you just gonna stand there all day? I ain't a waxwork." Bucky looks over his shoulder and raises his eyebrows expectantly. Steve's not sure how much he remembers of how they used to do this, but him being a brat is a pretty spot-on call back.
"Getting impatient for it already, huh?" Steve smirks when Bucky drops his head in an attempt to hide his flush as if it isn't creeping down his chest. He crosses the room slowly, folding up his sleeves as he goes. More because he knows Bucky's watching from the corner of his eye than any practical necessity, maybe Peggy was right when she said he was dramatic. "How many d'you want?"
"I don't wanna count, asshole. I wanna get spanked." Bucky mutters, sounding way too irritable for having his ass in the air. Oh yeah, he definitely remembers the way things used to be. Steve bites his lip to hide his grin, running his fingertips lightly over Bucky's skin, up the backs of his thighs and over his ass, to make him shiver.
"Want me to give it the whole, you've been a bad boy thing? Maybe rap your knuckles with a ruler?" He ghosts a touch over the dimples in Bucky's lower back and finds a lot of satisfaction in the bitten-back noise of pleasure that results. This is getting to Bucky, being looked at always did.
"I hate you. If you're just gonna make fun of me I swear to—" He's cut off by Steve's hand meeting his ass with a crack that whips right through the room and straight to Bucky's dick. Holy shit. He lurches forwards and catches himself on his elbows with the force, ass burning. "Fuck."
"Was that too hard? Tell me if you gotta stop." Steve checks in, rubbing his big palm over the pink handprint left on Bucky's ass and, yeah, this is great. This is just beyond great, he'd forgotten how much he missed Bucky giving it up to him like this until now.
"Nah, perfect." Bucky rolls his hips a couple of times to suss out the feeling, dick swinging heavy between his legs and reminding him that he's already hard from this. Shit. He settles again, staying on his elbows this time because he'll need the extra bracing. "Lay it on me, sweetheart. Don't hold back."
Steve, to his credit, does as he's told. He warms Bucky up slowly, steady, heavy slaps that bring the blood rushing to his skin and leave him sensitive when Steve really starts to lay into him. Bucky buries his face in his elbow and tries to muffle the sounds he's making, utterly failing at not sounding totally wanton as he punctuates every slap and pause with a groan. He feels like a whore, definitely sounds like one, and every blow sends bolts of pleasure shooting right through him, to the point where he actually whines when Steve pauses to catch his breath.
"Don't stop." Bucky huffs out, voice cracking in a way that would be embarrassing if he weren't so ridiculously close right now. "Fuck, please Steve. I'm gonna…"
"Oh fuck, baby. You gonna come just from this?" Steve grabs his ass and rakes his nails over the patches that are starting to bruise, dragging a strangled moan from deep in Bucky's chest. He sounds wrecked, he feels it too. "You're so good for me, so beautiful when you're such a slut for it like this. Gonna come all over yourself just from having your ass beat."
He picks up the rhythm again as he talks, and Steve never talks dirty unless he's turned on as hell. Bucky would look back and see if he's jerking off with his free hand, but he can't make himself move. He feels like piano wire, pulled tight enough to snap as the hot pain on his skin seeps into liquid pleasure and pressure and if he just—
Bucky comes so hard he sees stars, shooting onto the bed with Steve's hand bruising his ass and without a single touch to his dick. His hips twitch at nothing, riding out the high as Steve laughs, breathless and delighted, behind him. He'd better be jerking off, because Bucky's not letting him fuck him now his ass is probably the same colour as a plum. And he got off on it as hard as he's ever gotten off in his life.
He's never, ever going to live this down.