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The problem is that Steve has too much time on his hands.
He runs missions with SHIELD, but they leave him feeling lackluster. There’s something about it all that makes his skin crawl. A few times, they do rescue people, and that Steve feels good about. Most of the time, it’s taking out a cell of potential terrorists or a militant group. Steve always returns home with a bad taste in his mouth. Fury must cotton on to that, because Steve runs a few less missions, and never without Natasha there.
It leaves him with more time than he knows what to do with.
Movies, books, TV, pages and pages of news archives online, he finds himself consuming it all. He feels an emptiness inside as he tries to process 70 years of history and culture.
It ends up making him feel alone.
Then he discovers internet porn. He doesn’t find much of it appealing, but the static photos remind him of the girly mags Bucky used to steal from his dad. That only makes him feel worse, though, because it makes him think of how Bucky has been dead for years, but it’s still fresh for Steve. The rest of the world has moved on without him.
He needs to think about something else. Anything else.
Steve starts masturbating a lot. It’s pleasurable, and it’s a distraction, so it’s a win-win situation.
When just jerking off becomes not thrilling enough, when his mind starts to wander places he doesn’t want it to, he decides to figure out a way to spice things up. But he’s too nervous to actually buy toys himself, so he makes do without.
He fingers himself, discovers his prostate, and that really makes things nice for a time. But he still is looking for something more.
He realizes the possibility by accident. He’s jerking off, one hand flying over his cock, and the other behind him, two fingers fingering himself. He pushes his cock down as he feels his orgasm start to build, not ready, and it goes farther than he expects. He pushes a little more, until his balls are pushed to the side, and his cock is almost touching his perineum. Just a little further, and he wonders if he can meet his fingers thrusting into himself…
But he stops, lets his cock bob back up, and he finishes himself off.
Turns out it’s an actual thing, fucking oneself. Steve looks at photos, amazed and aroused. This is something new. Something different.
Steve has all the flexibility needed. Once upon a time, he wouldn’t have been able to do this, but his current body finds it easy to find a good position.
He braces his feet up against the wall, ass close, too, so that he’s spread wide, with his ass turned up. Steve takes a few deep breaths before slowly palming his cock.
He doesn’t get all the way hard. He bites his lips, just rubbing his cock slowly, and focusing on his breathing. He can do this. He wants this. The thought creates a pool of heat in his groin, one he’s about to trap between his cock and his ass, and he feels he might explode just from the anticipation.
He has to go slow. He pulls his balls away, though he takes a few moments to fondle them, until he’s bucking up and moaning.
He already opened himself up and slicked his cock, so he can give his full attention to the task at hand.
He’s still not fully convinced it will work. He’s not fully convinced it’ll feel all that great. But the fantasy sure is alluring, and he is determined to try it.
He pushes his cock further down. There’s mild pain that starts with the skin. It tugs, but it’s the kind of tug that, while it burns, ultimately feels good, like stretching the skin as one would stretch their muscles. There’s a moment when he reflexively thinks this is not going to work, but he breathes through it, gently nudges his cock down. When he pushes the head down so that it is flush against his skin, it goes farther than he expects. Damn. This is possible. This is really possible. He has to take several deep breaths, breathing in through his nose, to steady himself.
Finally, biting his lip and concentrating, he pushes the head of his cock into himself.
He lets out a sharp gasp. “Fuck.” He can’t help the word, it just slips out as he can’t quite process what he’s feeling.
It’s weird, but it’s hot, and Steve expects there to be something else, something foreign pushing into him, with him pushing into something else, but it’s all Steve. It’s his cock and his ass, and fuck, that’s a lot warmer around the head of his cock than he expected.
His cock slips from underneath his fingers, the fault of the foreskin sliding underneath his grip, and he pops out. He lets his cock bob back up, because he needs to breathe, relax, and refocus for a minute before he tries that again.
Steve’s head is swimming. He knows this is going to be fantastic for sure now, but he really need to refocus himself first.
When his breathing calms, but his arousal not at all lessened, Steve tilts his hips up a little more to reach his ass easier. Again, he pushes his cock down, balls moved delicately to the side. It’s a little easier this time, because Steve knows what to expect, but it doesn’t change how fucking good it feels. He lets out little gasps of breath as he slowly puts his cock in him. Steve can’t decide if he wants to try to look, even though he can’t, the angle is all wrong, or just let his head fall back, because it feels so good. He alternates as he just holds the head of his cock in him.
It still feels weird. Steve feels like he’s not himself, like he’s watching someone else do this. But there’s heat and pressure and Steve is sliding into himself, and he hasn’t felt anything like this ever.
He pushes his cock into himself as far as he can, and as he does so, the head of his cock brushes against his prostate.
He gasps and twists, the pleasure a circuit moving from his stimulated prostate down to his balls and up through his cock, where the head again brushes against his prostate repeating the cycle. And through all this, he feels pleasure course through him from his cock, as it moves within him, nerve endings on fire.
Steve can’t tell if he’s moaning or screaming or silent, because his whole world is sensation.
He comes without little warning, like a short circuited fuse. He gasps for breath as he comes in his own ass. He pulses into himself, and he pulses around himself, and he doesn’t know which way is up or down, he’s spiraling, because it feels so good.
Steve bites his lip until he can taste blood. The sharp pain brings him back to himself.
His breathing is ragged, his throat dry like he’s been screaming. His cock is still in his ass, his stiff hands holding himself in.
He focuses on taking breaths in and out. In and out. In and out.
When he feels human, when he feels a bit more like a single person again, instead of two crushed into one, he feels himself hardening again. The strain of holding his body in this position makes him shake, which stimulates his cock. This time, instead of just holding his cock in place, he grips it a little like a dildo, like he saw other guys do online. He licks his dry lips once, heart racing in anticipation, and then starts thrusting.
It’s slow, because he becomes just a mass of sensation again. But he forces his hands to move, and Steve never thought that this could get better. But it is. Because now there’s that slight friction, the pull of flesh against flesh, despite the slickness. He can feel his come drip down his ass, and that just makes Steve fuck himself faster.
He can’t believe he’s doing this. He doesn’t want to stop. He wishes he could go deeper, faster. He wishes he could see this, the way his cock disappears into his ass. Steve wants to know. He needs to know.
He comes again, movements stuttering to a stop, as he feels come fill him again. A rough groan tears from his throat, leaving him feeling open and raw.
This time, he slowly lets his softening cock go. His balls slip just a little lower, but his cock still hangs down.
It’s several long minutes before Steve can muster the energy to rearrange himself.
His limbs feel like jello, his ass numb and strangely empty. There’s relief from his cock for not being pushed back anymore. He scoots away from the wall and lowers his legs. They ache, too stiff. Bending them into a different angle makes him wince.
But he also feels loose and happy. His mind drifts elsewhere, and he’s happy to let it do so. He’s sweaty, has come pooling in the cleft of his ass, and he’s suddenly starving. But he also feels better than he has in a very long time.
When he finally decides it’s time to move, skin starting to prickle with goosebumps from the cold air against his naked body, he realizes that he spent more time laying around after than actually masturbaing.
That means he is going to have to practice.
After that, Steve does it again and again. He tries new things, new positions. He rocks against the arm of a chair while he’s seated inside himself to get deeper and to do it harder. He watches himself in a mirror, and that leaves him writhing against his bed, eyes fixated on his own and on his ass. He tries to tape it up so that he can walk around, and that leaves him shaking and clutching his kitchen counter as he comes again and again.
Best of all, Steve isn’t so bored.
--
Natasha looks at him suspiciously. Steve ignores her. He puts on his earpiece, eyes sweeping over the rest of the team to make sure they are all in order.
Natasha, however, refuses to be ignored when she doesn’t want to be. “You’re getting laid,” she says.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve replies. He tests the straps on his shield, making sure they fit snuggly.
“Don’t lie to me. Who is it? Marcia? Catherine?”
“Not lying,” Steve says. He raises an eyebrow at her. “Does it matter to you?”
“You look more relaxed. Something’s up, and I’ve learned that that often goes hand in hand with really good sex.”
“Not everything comes down to sex.”
Natasha rolls her eyes and admits, “No, not always. But in your case, Rogers? It does.”
Steve purses his lips as he looks at her. There’s a smug look in her expression, because she may just be right.
But Steve isn’t getting laid. Not technically.
Natasha is only half-right about his mood, too. He still has a bad taste in his mouth after most missions. He still feels lonely. He still has this emptiness inside him. But he’s doing a lot better. Maybe that has something to do with discovering himself a bit more, or maybe that has to do with releasing his tension, to throwing himself wholeheartedly into something where he can forget the world around him.
Either way, Steve uses the start of the mission as an excuse not to answer her.