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Steve’s always had a history of doing stuff like this: trying to cold-shoulder Bucky, to shove him away, to railroad him into a reasonable relationship with a dependable girl. Get married, have some kids, be a family man. Bucky deserves better than a crotchety jerk, than an asthmatic wimp, than a run down tenement in DUMBO where he can come home and fuck Steve in the dark. Deserves better than Steve’s insecurities.
It’s never mattered that Bucky’s always wanted exactly those things. It didn’t matter that he’d ride out Steve’s moods, his hot-and-cold antics, with the patience of a saint. That he worshipped Steve’s skinny body with hands and mouth and greedy eyes. Self-loathing doesn’t run on rationality, and Steve’s particular self-loathing has always been an egregious little overachiever.
Steve’s always thought that it’d be for the best, if Bucky’d ever listen to him. If Bucky left him. Steve would never recover, of course, but it’d be better for Bucky.
The success rate of this ridiculous line of logic is, of course, an even zero. James Buchanan has never been refused his way in his life, not when he wants something like he wants Steve. If Bucky wants to play house with Steve, if he wants to pretend at being a husband, then that’s what he’s going to get.
They don’t get to fuck like they did back in Brooklyn, when they’d be all over each other if Steve’s sanctimonious bullshit allowed for it. On the Western Front, Steve’s new body is still a mystery to Bucky. He can only run his hands over Steve’s pumped up limbs behind locked doors at night.
But Steve’s been hearing things lately. The serum enhanced his senses enough to hear the other men talking about them, the moment Steve should be out of earshot. Gruff complaints. Pointed observations. Crude insinuations. Those boys sure seem to spend a lot of time alone together.
So, Steve goes with his old faithful, nevermind that it hasn’t worked before. The cold shoulder. The deliberate rejection. The active redirection. The slow increase over weeks, biting his tongue on the unpleasantness of it. Instead of talking, he decides to break Bucky’s heart on the edges of his own.
But what it comes down to is Steve really doesn’t hate himself like he used to. He doesn’t hate the idea that he could be happy, with Bucky and everything else he shouldn’t have.
They’ve already got an arrangement, him and Buck. Every Wednesday and Saturday sees Steve’s quarters off-limits, when they’re on base with Peggy. Steve’s got a strategic mind. If he combines deliberate aloofness with his dalliances with Peggy, maybe he’ll be able to trick Bucky enough that he’ll be mad instead of being broken hearted.
It’d be for the best. He’s always thought about what’s best for Bucky Barnes.
Bucky hasn’t seemed jealous yet, is the thing. He’s sent Steve off to Peggy with grins and hard pats on the back. Steve has finally seen that mischievous sheen in Bucky’s eyes, absent since he’d found Bucky in Austria, feverish and half dead. He’s never been a jealous guy, crowing with delight whenever Steve managed to get a dame to go on a date with him, trying to set up doubles with girls at the dance halls he’d frequent. He’s not possessive. He’s just happy to be close to Steve, to look at him with glossy eyes and make Steve feel like he hung the moon.
Bucky hasn’t seemed jealous since Steve reinstated his foolish cold-shoulder routine, but he’s definitely angry.
Bucky’s an even-tempered guy. It takes a while for him to get angry, to build the fury into a good froth, but Bucky Barnes has never done well with people ignoring him. Least of all when it’s Steve, when he thought they’d gotten over this self deprecating misery.
It comes to a head outside the mess hall. Bucky’s furious, Steve can tell by the tension in his jaw. His eyes are hard, fists clenched at his sides.
“We need to talk, Captain,” he hisses.
Steve tries to beat a hasty retreat, but Bucky’s got his number. Bucky follows him through the camp, whisper-yelling to keep from drawing too much attention, trying to grab Steve and pull him to a stop. It doesn’t work as well as it used to, considering Steve’s got the strength of a goddamn ox now, but it doesn’t keep Bucky from trying.
Despite the serum, the body, the titles, he’s still the same idiot who can’t make his words work when he has any goddamn need for them. They argue all the way to Steve’s quarters, a run down little room that’s used for the rotating cast of military personnel at HQ. Bucky’s trying to cover for the fact that they’re fighting, giving other officers grim approximations of smiles as they pass. Steve’s just trying to get to the suite, to get some privacy so that this can blow up the way it needs to.
It’s Wednesday. Something they both forgot, in their heated discussion.
Peggy’s there already, like Steve knew she would be, in a shady corner of the room, seated in the ragged armchair. She’s got her skirt hiked up high enough that Steve can see the little metal hooks through the fabric of her stockings. They glint dull in the low light, through pale nylon. Bucky barges in after him, throwing his weight around like he never used to when Steve was still small. The door slams hard behind him.
“Listen to me, you miserable bastard. You can’t just shut me out like this,” Bucky’s saying, getting into Steve’s face. He hasn’t seen Peggy yet, whose chin has dropped, red mouth rounded out in surprise. To the whole room’s misfortune, Bucky’s anger starts gaining speed.
“We’re not fucking fifteen anymore, Rogers. You haven’t figured out that pushing me away isn’t going to work anymore? You can shove me at other people, and you can fuck as many broads as you want to, alright? Get your whole, stupid set of tricks out, pal. No matter how much of an asshole you are, you’re not getting rid of me. I don’t know what kinda-”
“Sergeant Barnes.”
Bucky shuts up so fast he almost chokes.
Peggy has regained her composure, but she hasn’t moved. Her skirt is still hiked up. Steve can see the colour of her panties under the garter belt. It matches the colour Bucky’s face is turning: a pretty, deep scarlet.
“Captain Rogers is your commanding officer,” Peggy says. Her voice is quiet in the stillness of the room, with the efficacy of a scream. It’s no surprise that she can hold the command of an entire platoon of bloated egos, keep sharp personalities in check.
“This deliberate flouting of the chain of command is troubling. Do you speak to all your superiors in this manner?” Bucky gapes like a fish. Steve has no idea what Peggy’s doing, considering that she’s just received confirmation in full that Captain America’s a fruit. If she wants to focus on insubordination, well, that’s her business.
“Ma’am, I-” Bucky starts, and then seems to swallow his tongue. Peggy tuts.
“Hm,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “Nothing to say, it seems.” Bucky turns to Steve, eyes wide with panic. Steve opens his mouth to say something, anything at all, but nothing comes out.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” is what Bucky settles on, turning back to Peggy. Peggy hums again. She doesn’t look very impressed.
“Perhaps this is an argument best settled privately, between the two of you.”
“Peg,” Steve tries. Peggy cuts him off with nothing but an imperious wave of her hand.
“You’ll have to figure this out, my darling. We will simply have to reschedule for tomorrow evening.” Peggy smooths her skirt down over her thighs and stands.
“Ma’am, I am so sor-” Bucky starts, apologizing again.
“Sergeant Barnes, you will be here, of course,” Peggy says. Bucky stutters and comes to a dead stop. Peggy turns away from them and steps towards the door.
“What?” Steve feels like he’s been dropped from a very high building, freefalling and desperate for a place to land. Peggy’s expression is cutting, chin turned over her shoulder.
“Eight o’clock, both of you. Do not leave me waiting.” The door clicks shut, an underwhelming indication that Peggy has excused herself. The room is quiet for a moment, until Bucky heaves a sigh and sits on the mattress, head in his hands.
“Fuck,” he says. Steve has to agree with him.
They’re not late, on the following evening. They’re early, far too early, after a day of cat herding, strategy meetings, and mounting anxiety. Peggy is not waiting for them as she was last night, and the extended wait for her arrival only adds to the tension. Bucky has taken to pacing in Steve’s tiny quarters, moving sparse furnishings so he can do laps of the room.
“Buck, c’mon,” Steve’s almost wheedling, which is only working for him because they’d made up over Steve’s last two weeks of rotten behaviour. Last night, with Steve’s open mouth pressed into the thin mattress and Bucky’s sweaty, strong body pinning him down. They are simple men, with simple acts of penance.
“Bucky, sit down, Christ. You’re making me dizzy.” Steve pats the space on the cot beside him, the chair to be left empty for Peggy’s inevitable arrival. Bucky doesn’t look at him, just continues pacing. His lovely face has been pale all day, but it’s effectively colourless now. Translucent skin over bone and gaunt shadows under his cheekbones, under his pretty eyes.
“Sweetheart, please,” Steve starts. It makes Bucky whirl around and point at him.
“Don’t start with that,” Bucky says, voice low and dangerous. Steve only breaks out the pet names when situations are dire.
“Listen, it’s not gonna be a big deal,” Steve says, trying to sound calm while picking through his own brain-storm of swirling anxieties and distress. “I’m pretty sure she’s always known.”
“Oh yeah?” Bucky asks, with a laugh. It sounds like something more at home on the gallows than in Steve’s sweet, intimate little room. “You’ve been running around telling folks that I bend over for you, huh? Maybe that’s why they’ve been talking.” His voice is shaking, but he’s not angry anymore. Steve swallows hard.
“I mean, I’ve never said it out loud,” Steve says, trying to placate him. “You know I wouldn’t jeopardize us like that.” Bucky opens his mouth to say something nasty, if the expression on his face translates, but Peggy picks that moment to open the door, no knock or nothing, and shut it behind her. Lock it behind her. Survey the scene with sharp eyes.
“Sergeant Barnes,” she says. Bucky has no idea how she does that. Quiet voice possessing the kind of rigid authority he’s only seen in the most grizzled of veteran commanding officers. “Please feel free to reposition the furniture.”
It makes him feel ashamed and strangely excited, when she looks away from him to assess Steve. She didn’t even give him an instruction, just a cutting suggestion, like he’s a child she’s chastising. He does it, fixing the room up to look like it did before he started wearing a track into the floor. He finds that he wants to please her, and isn’t that new. Wanting to please anyone who isn’t Steven Rogers.
Steve, meanwhile, has laid back on the bed. Peggy is here for pleasure only, he can tell by her posture, her expression. He’s grinning, cheeks starting to go pink as Peggy pulls her overcoat off. She’s wearing a black dress today, something he’s never seen before. He wonders if she’s borrowed it from someone, because it doesn’t seem to fit well. The fabric bunches awkwardly around her hips.
“Stop that smirking, darling,” Peggy says, trying not to smile. She reaches forward and cups Steve’s cheek in one slim, callused hand. Steve kisses her thumb when she smears it over his mouth. “Did you manage to clear up your little quarrel?”
Bucky stares at them from across the room, mouth soft and open. Something molten drops into his pelvis, simmering at Peggy’s easy authority, her condescending tone.
“Yeah,” Steve says. His blush has bled out across his skin, pink cheeks, pink ears, pink neck. Peggy trails her fingers down Steve’s throat and flicks open the buttons on his shirt, casual as anything. Pulls the neck of his undershirt down with one finger and takes a look at Steve’s big, pink chest. Bucky can feel his heart beating in his groin.
“And how did you do that, darling?” Peggy asks, unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it out from where it’s tucked into his trousers. Steve starts to shift his hips, to help her out. Peggy’s hand darts back up, nimble fingers squeezing down on Steve’s nipple through the fabric, twisting it clockwise until her delicate wrist is exposed. It’s shocking, the way such a vulnerable gesture aids Peggy’s unshakable dominance.
Steve moans, big and bright. Bucky knows that moan, can see Steve’s erection pressing against his fly.
“I believe I asked you a question,” Peggy says, pulling the nipple until Steve whines. “I don’t want you trying to guess what I want from you, dear heart. If I want you to move, I will say. If I want something from you, I will take it.” Peggy winds her arm back and slaps Steve’s nipple hard, the sound cracking over Steve’s breathy little noises. Jesus, Bucky thinks. No wonder Steve’s been coming back to him looking like he’s been lovingly mauled.
“You don’t have to guess, darling. I’ve told you exactly what I want from you, and that’s an answer. To. My. Question,” Peggy says, staccato, punctuating each word with a slap to the same sensitive nipple.
Steve’s still smiling, eyes slitted, hips twitching up like he could get some friction from the air. He bites down on his lower lip and looks up at Peggy through his eyelashes. Bucky doesn’t think it’s going to have the same effect on Carter as it has on him.
“I told him I was sorry,” Steve says, trying to hold back his giddy laughter. It’s not a lie. Steve had apologized, after Bucky’d yelled for a while, made Steve explain what his stupid line of reasoning was this time, made Steve admit that he didn’t want to stop being with Bucky.
“And then what, love?” Peggy still hasn’t looked at Bucky, standing across the room from her. He’s swaying a bit on the balls of his feet from anxiety and fear, his arousal doing little to cut through it. It’s a nervous tic he’s had since childhood, one that Steve recognizes the moment that he locks eyes with Bucky. Bucky’s worried, he knows, but he trusts Steve. They trust each other.
“And then he fucked me,” Steve says, voice quiet. He watches Bucky’s jaw tighten, his beautiful hands curl into fists against his abdomen.
“Mm,” is all Peggy says to that. She finishes unbuttoning his shirt, flicking the halves of it open on the bed. She smooths it off his shoulders so that it gathers at his elbows. The makeshift restraints settle where he’s propped himself up on the bed. The undershirt gets rucked up the pink flush of his chest, bunched up against his throat. He looks obscene.
“Sergeant Barnes,” she says, turning to look at him. Her dark eyes are lit up with lust, which Bucky would see if he’d make eye contact with her. He tenses again, shoulders tight. “Is this true?”
Steve didn’t think it was possible, but even more blood drains out of Bucky’s face. He shifts on his feet, clenches his jaw.
“Come over here,” she says, turning back to look at Steve. Bucky blinks a couple of times, loses some of the tension in his body to confusion. Peggy has already started undoing Steve’s belt, and Steve is grinning again, like the little monster he is.
“Barnes!” Peggy barks, raising her voice for the first time. Bucky lurches forward, taking the four necessary steps to cross the room and stand at her elbow.
Peggy pulls Steve’s trousers off, socks, shoes, belt and all. He’s left hard and disheveled on the bed, arching his back to show off his tits, the outrageous ridges of his stomach. She turns her back to Bucky to step towards the chair, sitting on its threadbare upholstery like the goddamn Queen herself.
“Come here,” Peggy says again, pointing to the space in front of her feet. “On your knees.” Bucky blinks owlishly for a moment, but Steve makes a debaucherous sound, working his abdomen to sit up so he can see. He starts struggling with the shirt holding his arms behind him, doubles his efforts when Peggy doesn’t tell him to stop.
Bucky does come here, and he does get on his knees. He still can’t make eye contact with her, ashamed and afraid and turned on in spite of it, so he looks at her shoes. At her shapely legs. At the places in her lovely stockings that she’s had to try to repair runs.
Peggy touches his chin with gentle fingers. Bucky lifts his head, but keeps his eyes down.
“Oh, isn’t that lovely,” she says quietly. “I know you’re not always so well behaved, Barnes. Is this all for me?” That hot, molten thing in Bucky’s stomach is shifting, spreading out, boiling under his skin.
“I,” Bucky starts. His voice is small. Steve watches him, unsure at Peggy’s feet, and sighs through his open mouth.
“That was a rhetorical question,” Peggy says, tapping on Bucky’s chin. “I know it’s for me, because I know the type of person that Steve wants.” Bucky starts to blush, colour blooming back into his face. He’s starting to think that Steve was right. Maybe Peggy has known, all this time. Maybe she was counting on it.
“Did you sodomize your commanding officer, Sergeant Barnes?” Peggy asks again. Her voice is harsh, like she’s annoyed to repeat herself. Bucky opens his mouth, but Steve gets there first.
“Oh, come on, Peg. We’ve been fucking each other since before I was anyone’s commanding anything,” Steve says. He’s got his hand on low on his pelvis, thick fingers framing the base of his dick. He’s gorgeous, blatant in his desire for their attention.
Peggy turns her head and glares, her beautiful jaw set hard in her face. She does not seem to be affected by the view.
“I wasn’t asking you, Steven,” she says, voice acidic. Steve’s expression drops and he looks appropriately contrite, despite the way his dick twitches against his hand. She turns back to Bucky, her hand tender when she cups his throat. She uses her thumb and index fingers to press Bucky’s chin up.
“What were you about to say?” she asks. Her voice is gentle for the first time while she speaks to him. He sucks in a sharp breath at the way it makes him feel- hot all over, needy. He really, really wants to please her.
“I fucked him,” Bucky says, voice breathy. Peggy’s free hand caresses Bucky’s cheek, sweet, a balm against the hot blush of aroused humiliation.
“Thank you for telling me,” she says. Bucky’s dick throbs in response, half hard in his trousers. He’s caught between her hands like a butterfly to a pinboard. “Since you’re an expert on the subject, you’re going to open him up for me.”
Bucky’s jaw would be in her lap if not for Peggy’s hand holding it closed. He meets Peggy’s eyes for the first time all night. Beneath the cool facade of control, she looks thrilled. Bucky makes a desperate little noise high in the back of his throat.
“Yes, ma’am,” he says. The moment she releases him, Bucky crawls towards the bed, between Steve’s legs. He’s not a fool, and he learns quick. Agent Carter does not like to repeat herself.
Behind him, he can hear Peggy rummaging for something in the rickety chest of drawers, though he hears her still and her breath catch when he rubs his face against Steve’s inner thigh. Bucky strokes his hands up the outside of Steve’s legs, gripping his waist and pulling his ass to the edge of the mattress.
“There’s vaseline in here, somewhere,” Peggy says, and the rummaging sounds resume. Bucky hums, gets up on his knees, and pushes Steve’s thighs up against his chest. Steve is smiling at him from between his own knees, pink cheeks, biting at his lip.
Bucky squeezes his fingers around the backs of Steve’s knees where he’s pinned him, cupped around thick muscle. He kisses down the insides of his thighs, brushes his cheek against Steve’s dick to make him sigh. He kisses Steve’s perineum. The ruckus that Peggy’s been making behind him stops and Steve starts laughing at the look of delighted shock on her face, hands gone still in the top drawer. Wheezy little laughs, chest compressed from the position Bucky’s got him in.
When Bucky kisses Steve’s hole, his laughter turns to thready, sweet little noises. He arches his hips to chase Bucky’s mouth. Bucky keeps the kisses gentle and dry, rubbing his nose against Steve’s balls.
“Hold yourself open,” Bucky says. Behind him, Peggy makes a noise that can only be described as guttural. Steve laughs again, his eyes on Peggy as he presses his arms to his sides and grips his thick ass cheeks, rough fingers digging in to expose himself.
“Oh, bloody hell,” Peggy says. Steve follows her with his eyes, grinning like a fool as she crosses the room again to sit in the armchair, a small tin in her hand. “The two of you truly are a pair of degenerates.” Bucky laughs against Steve’s hole.
“Aw, Peg, you already knew that,” Steve says, and then gasps when Bucky presses his tongue flat against him.
“Don’t talk back to me, Steven,” she says, but her voice doesn’t go cruel. Bucky presses Steve’s knees further up, tipping his ass up so Peggy can see Bucky’s tongue working him open.
Bucky eats him out slow, makes him moan and whine for it. He treats Steve real nice, until his whole face is wet, until Bucky’s spit is dripping off Steve’s ass and onto the floor. Steve rocks his hips into the pressure on his hole, gets needier and louder. He’s always been a desperate slut, messy and hot for it, makes Bucky burn up on the inside.
“Now, darling,” Peggy says, her voice amused over the wet sounds of Bucky’s hard work. “You’re going to need to keep quiet.” Steve whines, head tipped back, throat exposed.
“I can’t,” he says. He repeats it a couple times, says Bucky’s name, says Peggy’s. Peggy tuts, but it seems to be exactly what she wanted to hear, because seconds later she’s on the bed beside him. She makes eye contact with Bucky and smiles like a shark. Bucky shakes from desire, closes his eyes and finally presses his hot, slick tongue inside.
The sensation makes Steve even louder, but Peggy is eternally prepared. She stuffs a wad of cloth into Steve’s mouth. She gets delicate about pressing it between his teeth with two fingers. It’s not until he can taste it that Steve realizes it’s his underwear. The sound that comes out of him is downright indecent, only saved by the fact that it’s muffled.
“Oh, honey,” Bucky says, pressing a gentle kiss to Steve’s pink, wet hole. “Listen to you. Trying to show Peggy how good you go down for it, huh?”
Peggy hums and snaps a hand out, winding her fingers into Bucky’s hair. She yanks his head back with it, makes him inhale sharp, makes his dick pulse where it’s still regretfully caught in his trousers.
“That will be Agent Carter to you, Sergeant Barnes,” Peggy says, calm and assured, like he disrespected her in the field and she isn’t watching Bucky take Steve to pieces with his mouth.
“Yes, ma’am,” Bucky says, breath coming fast. Peggy tugs at his hair once more before using it as a handle to force his face against Steve’s ass.
Peggy stays on the bed instead of relocating back to the chair. She pets Steve’s damp hair away from his forehead, sweet talks him, watches Bucky with those dark eyes, fierce with desire. When Bucky starts to get his fingers in the game, she sets the vaseline on Steve’s trembling stomach. She holds Steve’s leg in place when Bucky lets go of it.
Steve takes two fingers easy, whining through his nose and rocking his hips down into it, riding his hand. He doesn’t stop when Bucky tells him to, when he swats his ass, so Bucky bites down hard on his inner thigh. Steve tenses, vibrating from it, and when Bucky pulls back enough to give the red mark a kiss, he sees Steve’s dick drooling onto his stomach.
“Oh,” Peggy says, breathless. “It seems like he liked that quite a lot.” She’s starting to flush, finally, now that Bucky and Steve are thoroughly debauched, bright spots of colour high on her cheekbones, on her nose. She’s aching and wet at the crux of her legs, starting to rub her thighs together as Bucky presses his tongue to Steve’s balls.
Peggy hikes the skirt of her dress into her lap, frowning at the way it gathers around her body. She presses her arm across her lap to disguise it, slipping her hand between her legs and touching herself through damp satin.
Bucky’s got up to three fingers when he notices where Peggy’s hands are.
“Jesus,” he swears, mouth pressed to Steve’s skin. “Steve, look.” Steve does, and makes a series of noises that sound like someone’s boxing with his diaphragm. Peggy spreads her legs so Steve can see.
Steve, to his credit, lasts for about seven seconds of watching Peggy’s graceful fingers petting her clit through her panties. Bucky shoves his fingers in hard, touches him inside, where he’s most sensitive, and waits for the imminent fireworks.
Peggy looks startled, at first, when Steve arches up, when he starts hollering through his gag like he’s caught a round of buckshot in the stomach. From his vantage point on the floor, Bucky gets to watch them both while he works Steve through it, milks it out of him, pulls his slick, shiny fingers out.
Smeared from navel to collarbone in his own come, Steve shudders back against the mattress. He’s moaning through the underwear in his mouth, soft and sated. Peggy looks on, recovered from her surprise. Her eyebrows are raised like she’s considering something mildly entertaining.
“Is that all it usually takes, when he gets like this?” Peggy asks, turning her brown eyes on Bucky. He laughs a bit, kisses the cut of Steve’s hip as he works his own trousers open. Peggy busies herself by working the underwear out of Steve’s mouth, kissing the edges of his lips while he pants through the afterglow.
“Been like this since he got big,” Bucky says, grinning wide. “I try to get a tally going, on nights we’ve got the privacy. Upper limit seems to be four, so far.” Bucky frantically kicks out of his pants and boots while he’s talking and climbs up on the mattress. He touches his own dick, squeezes down on the base of it before he pumps it once, starts to line it up with Steve’s hole.
Peggy grabs his hair again, pulling his head to the side. Bucky tries to make an outraged noise, but it comes out mewling, cock straining in his hand.
“One step forward, two steps back,” Peggy sighs, getting to her feet so she can pull Bucky onto the floor. He rolls when he lands to absorb the impact, but Peggy flips him over like Bucky’s a soccer ball and she’s dribbling him down a field. She presses the ball of her foot to Bucky’s chest, pinning him down. Steve’s still fuzzy from his orgasm, but he does his best to sit up, to watch the show.
“I’m not sure where you think you are, Barnes. In this army, you wait for your orders, and you don’t go off trying your own thing.” Peggy’s smiling as she says it, when she meets Bucky’s eyes. His stomach rolls over itself and he smiles back.
“I told you to get him open for me, Sergeant Barnes,” she says, prim. She holds his gaze, puts some weight into the foot holding him flat to the floor. Her smile has faded. They both ignore the way Bucky’s dick is twitching against the cut of his hip, leaking onto the skin, shiny and sticky.
“Steve, darling,” she says, eyes on Bucky. “Unzip my dress.” Steve’s grinning again, recovering fast, excited and eager as a puppy. He rolls himself to his knees, steadying himself in his afterglow shakiness and trying to keep the jizz on his chest away from Peggy’s black dress. His big hands are careful with the hook and eye and as he pulls the zipper down slow, until his hand is settled against the small of her back.
“Thank you, love,” she says. She sets two fingers between his tits and gives him a little shove, her fingers coming away wet with his come, watching as he falls back on the bed. The old wood creaks, alarming, but holds under all of Steve’s weight. She’s still looking at Bucky when she licks her fingers clean. He whimpers under her shoe.
Peggy shrugs the dress off her shoulders, revealing a black bra in satin and lace, a matching panty and garter, and a-
“God in fucking heaven,” Bucky swears, as the dress falls to pool over his chest, over Peggy’s shoe. It’s some kind of leather harness cinched around her hips and thighs, over her lingerie. Jutting from her crotch and held in place by the harness, gleaming and burnished in the lamp light, is a polished wooden cock.
She’s delicate about picking up the vaseline, scooping some out, rubbing it slow over the length of her dick. Steve looks like he’s got a fever, pink all over, eyes glazed, mouth open like he needs something in it.
“Sit up, Barnes,” she says, hooking one of Steve’s legs over her hip. She taps the inside of Steve’s other thigh, waiting until Bucky leans his face against it, awkward and on his knees, tucked between Peggy and Steve. “I want you to watch, since you’re so impatient.”
Steve’s whining starts up before she can even get it inside him, his dick already getting hard again, still wet from his own come. Peggy slaps him on the sternum, a loud, thick sound. It makes Steve groan, makes his hips twitch.
“Stay quiet, love. There’s only so much I can do if the whole base hears how much you like it.” The efficacy of the threat is surprising. He keeps his noises broken and small, and Peggy gets the head of her cock inside of him where he’s wet and open.
It’s sweet, the way Steve gets pliable, like the off switch to him being an ornery bastard is just inside his asshole. He stays wherever Peggy and Bucky put him, panting as Peggy presses in and in and in. Bucky’s pressing kisses to his thigh with the same insistence, watching every inch of Peggy’s dick as it opens Steve up. Bucky rolls his jaw against Steve’s sweaty skin, tipping his head back to look at Peggy.
“Can I touch him, ma’am?” Peggy turns her head from where she’s been watching Steve’s skin, tits getting pinker as he takes more of her. She pets her fingers through his disheveled hair, a pleased smile on her face.
“Very obedient, James,” she says. The switch from formal titles to his first name makes Bucky’s vision start to fuzz out, cock hard as it’s ever been against his thigh. “You can touch him.” She tweaks his earlobe like he’s a silly, cherished pet. His skin is wet where the head of his dick touches his thigh.
The soft noise that Steve makes when Bucky touches him makes his heart flip and his stomach drop. Peggy sighs in response, watching them both with a fierce gaze. Peggy’s expression would be funny, the odd combination of calculating and aroused, but Bucky’s just as horny. It only serves to make him burn a little hotter.
Blunt fingers trace over Steve’s hole, pink and stretched around Peggy. Bucky pulls his hand away when Peggy pulls out, presses back in, again and again and again. He lolls his head against Steve’s knee, craning his neck to try and see around the lush curve of Peggy’s hip. Up on the bed Steve’s moaning low, making all those sweet sounds.
Peggy gets a good rhythm going, pulling out fast, pressing deep and slow slow slow. Steve’s panting. Bucky can’t see him, but his mouth sounds wet. Peggy tilts her hips and shoves inside, a long, smooth press. Bucky sees Steve’s hips jerk up, hears the sound he makes, knows that he’s clenching hard on Peggy’s cock.
Peggy turns to look at Bucky, a smile on her face, but she stops herself mid-word.
“Oh,” she says, reaching out to touch his hair. “You can’t see from here.” She pushes his hair back, sweat starting to break down the pomade he put in this morning. Bucky shakes his head.
“You’re being remarkably well mannered, James, but next time you’ll need to tell me,” she says. She tightens her fingers and pulls up on his hair. Bucky reflexively sits up straight.
“Up on the bed, pet,” she says. Bucky shivers, from the names and the hair pulling and the following orders. He crawls up on the bed. Steve reaches one big paw out, strokes down Bucky’s skinny side. His fingers find every divot between Bucky’s ribs.
Peggy takes a moment to direct him where she wants him, laid out along Steve’s side, head on Steve’s thigh. Close enough to breathe on Steve’s cock, where he can get a real good view of the way Peggy’s fucking him.
Peggy smiles, pleased at the picture, the two of them curled up against each other.
“You really are beautiful together,” she says, before she starts moving again. Steve clings to Bucky’s body, presses his face to Bucky’s knees, moans into his skin. Bucky pets little circles against Steve’s lower abdomen, trying to avoid the mess of come on his skin. The head of Steve’s dick keeps tapping Bucky’s hand, bouncing with Peggy’s thrusts.
Bucky licks away the slick from Steve’s cock. Peggy grunts at the sight, panties getting wetter. He licks the palm of his hand next, getting it slick. Peggy watches him with narrowed eyes. Bucky cups Steve’s balls in his palm, rolling them gently, holding them out of the way, and Peggy hums, pleased.
Peggy tilts her hips again, getting her cock against Steve’s prostate and settling in. She fucks like a tank, slow and hard and inexorable. Steve gets louder while she pounds him through the mattress, doing his best to swallow the noises when Peggy pinches at him, when Bucky bites his skin.
Peggy’s tweaking her own nipple through her bra when Steve comes again, dick untouched, mouth open wide. Peggy gets her dick in deep, grinds the base of it against her clit and sighs.
“Looks like he’s not going to be able to keep himself quiet, hm?” Peggy says, running a gentle fingertip up and down the length of Steve’s twitching cock. She touches the finger to Bucky’s mouth, watches him lick the come from her skin while she lets Steve cool down.
“No, ma’am,” Bucky says, voice rough.
“We’ll need to put something in his mouth,” Peggy says. She pets her hand through Bucky’s hair.
“May I suggest something?” Bucky asks.
“You may not,” Peggy says, giving his hair a little tug and letting it go. “Sit up.”
Bucky does what he’s told. He avoids any contact with his dick, which is turning a colour of red he’s never seen it go before. He spares it a moment of concern before Peggy’s got him working, helping her turn Steve over onto his stomach.
Steve’s no help, fucked loose and unresponsive. He hums and reaches for them with clumsy hands, eyes almost closed. They move him until he’s got his knees under his hips, flopped down on the mattress. It’s kind of cute, how useless he is after he comes. Bucky caresses the broad swath of Steve’s shoulders, kneeling near his head.
Peggy gets her dick back inside and Steve yeowls, oversensitive and pushing his ass back against her regardless.
“James, do be a dear and shut him up,” Peggy says, gripping Steve’s hips and plugging away. Bucky shifts on his knees and covers Steve’s mouth with his cupped palm. Peggy laughs, sounding out of breath.
“It’s quite darling what a prude you can be, but I didn’t mean like that,” Peggy says. She looks at Bucky’s dick, in case she’s been misunderstood again. Steve’s starting to come back online, propping himself up on his hands, leaning his head against the cut of Bucky’s hip.
“Ma’am, I’m not gonna be able to hold off if I do that,” Bucky says, his tone apologetic. Peggy’s eyes flash.
“You’ll do what I tell you, Barnes,” Peggy says. “And I want you to put your cock in his mouth. Now.” Bucky makes a strange sound, like Peggy’s words have mugged him at knifepoint and stolen every scrap of his dignity. Steve raises his head, looks at Bucky with those glazed eyes. Bucky feeds him his cock.
Bucky manages to hold off his orgasm. It helps that Steve’s being fucked within an inch of his life. Most of his spare brainpower is going to making sure he can breathe, and not deepthroating. Steve’s mouth is wet and hot around Bucky’s dick, but it’s loose as his jaw lolls.
Bucky gently thrusts into Steve’s mouth whenever he starts making noise, holding Steve’s head in place with shaking hands. He gets to watch Peggy taking Steve apart from a brand new angle, his thick ass bouncing against the force of her thrusts.
Peggy gets Steve off again, the window of time between orgasms shrinking, before she gets her hand on his dick. The overstimulation makes Steve wail, wiggling around the bed, trying to get closer, to get away. Bucky tightens his hold on Steve’s hair, gets his dick in deep enough that Steve gags.
Bucky cups one hand under Steve’s jaw, making a tighter hole to thrust into. He keeps it shallow, just enough to get himself off and keep Steve quiet. He watches Peggy’s arm work in tandem with her thrusts, watches Steve’s big hands clench hard in the sheets.
Steve starts shaking a couple minutes in. He works his tongue against the underside of Bucky’s cock, the motion uncoordinated and more of a reflex than a conscious decision. Bucky hums and his dick jerks in Steve’s mouth.
“That’s right,” he says, voice quiet. “Mm, that’s good, Steve. C’mon, honey,” he says, voice low and coarse. Steve whines high in the back of his throat, his hips twitching back against Peggy’s thrusts.
“Yeah, Steve, show us how good you are,” he says, fucking Steve’s mouth a little faster. He keeps talking, his brain shutting down all connections other than the ones straight to his dick. He doesn’t register what he’s saying, just that he’s close to his orgasm and needs to talk himself through it. Peggy’s started moaning across from him, watching the two of them with hazy eyes.
When he comes, it’s across Steve’s tongue. Steve seals his mouth over the head of Bucky’s dick, sucking gently and swallowing. He pets at Steve’s red face for a moment, touching the corners of his pretty mouth, stretched around his cock.
Bucky pulls out when Peggy starts moving again. He sits flat on his ass and holds Steve’s face against his neck, trying to keep him quiet while Peggy wrings another one out of him. Steve writhes like it hurts, making loud, shocked noises against Bucky’s skin.
“Christ, Carter. I’ve never seen him go off that fast,” Bucky says, pressing his hand over Steve’s mouth.
“It’s my feminine wiles,” Peggy says, voice dry. Bucky laughs, delighted, into Steve’s hair. Steve’s shuddering against him, but Peggy’s still stroking him, squeezing the head of his dick.
“Oh, God,” Steve says, voice high and broken. Steve’s still holding himself up, but the faraway look in his eyes is familiar. He moans when Peggy starts to pull out, shoves it back in.
“You gonna fuck him unconscious?” Bucky asks, sounding awed and a little worried. Peggy lets go of Steve’s dick, holding his hips with both her hands and giving him another hard thrust.
“Wasn’t it you who said he could take it, James?” she asks, all casual like she’s talking about the weather.
“Oh, God,” Steve says again, eyes closed, red mouth open. Bucky presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
“Yeah,” he says, “guess I did.” Peggy gives him a couple more hard thrusts before huffing through her nose.
“You’re not great at keeping him quiet, are you?” she asks. Before Bucky can respond, she’s got Steve on his side, one of his thick legs hoisted over her shoulder, hooked at the knee. Steve shifts so he can curl his other leg around her hips. She looks tiny, wrapped up in his huge limbs like that, but then she gets her cock back in and Steve’s back to being a squirming slut.
Peggy stuffs her fingers in his mouth, three of them, until her hand is mashed against his teeth. Steve’s breath hitches when he inhales, mouth wet and open.
“Like this, Barnes,” she says, looking at Bucky, trying not to smirk. Bucky watches with an open mouth while Peggy completely takes Steve apart. She pins his head to the mattress with the heel of her hand on his chin, fucks him rough, only pulls her fingers out of his mouth long enough to wipe saliva on Steve’s heaving chest before she shoves them back in.
Bucky’s torn between watching Steve’s wrecked face and Peggy’s tits. They’re bouncing from how hard she’s fucking Steve, even with the brassiere.
“May I touch you, ma’am?” he asks. Peggy looks at him, eyes black with lust. She looks like she’s considering it.
“No,” she decides. “I want you to suck him. You’re so good with your mouth, James.” Her voice is still strong and confident, despite her rigorous movement, the sweat all over her body. Steve whines Bucky’s name through Peggy’s fingers, the sound slurred and strange. Peggy grips his chin in her hand and shakes his head, pinning it back down to the bed.
“What am I going to do with you, darling?” Peggy asks, leaning over Steve to look him in the eyes. “All I want for you is to shut up and get fucked, but you just can’t stay quiet, can you?” Steve exhales hard, nodding his head as best as he can with Peggy’s strong, slender hands holding him down.
“Oh, you can be quiet?” Peggy asks, starting to smile despite herself. Steve nods again, overwhelmed but grinning around her fingers.
“Well, if that’s the case, I suppose I can allow James to suck you off,” she says, magnanimous. “But if you truly can’t keep yourself quiet, I’ll have no choice but to have James plug your pretty mouth up with his cock again.” It’s Bucky’s turn to groan, this time. He does it quiet, as he’s wiggling down on his side.
Bucky sucks Steve’s cock into his mouth and goes to town. Steve gropes around the sheets until he finds one of Bucky’s hands, lacing their fingers and squeezing hard.
Peggy swears above them, hair falling from her practical coiff and sticking to the sweat on her neck. She’s so hot and wet between her legs that she can hear the base of her cock hitting her soaked panties. She watches Steve cling to every part of Bucky that he can reach, feels him swallow convulsively around her fingers. Bucky’s a dream between them, head tilted so that Peggy can watch him suck Steve into his throat. The sounds of Bucky’s mouth, the thick, wet gagging deep in his throat when Peggy’s thrusts push Steve’s dick too far in, makes her clit throb.
Steve squeezes down on Bucky’s hand, four quick little pulses, and Bucky pulls off. He pants into the crook of Steve’s hip, his breath wet. Bucky rolls his head to face Peggy, close enough that Peggy could pull out of Steve and shove her dick straight into Bucky’s mouth. The thought makes her clench her thighs and start fucking Steve faster.
“He’s gonna come,” Bucky says, voice ragged.
“Uh huh,” Peggy replies smartly, pulling her fingers out of Steve’s mouth and pushing them past Bucky’s lips instead. Bucky sucks on them, eyes half lidded. His mouth is lush and red and beautiful.
“Touch him,” Peggy says. She looks up at Steve’s face once Bucky gets a good pace going, sucking Peggy’s fingers and stroking Steve’s dick. Steve’s biting his lip so hard that Peggy’s worried it might start bleeding, trying to stay quiet.
“Oh, that’s good,” Peggy says. “That’s good, darling, keep quiet for me.” Peggy angles her hips to get Steve right in the prostate. Bullseye, she thinks, as Steve starts to come.
Peggy’s not expecting so much, after so many consecutive orgasms, but Steve’s always surprising her. He comes hard enough that it shoots over the edge of the bed and gets on the floor. Peggy lets out a high giggle, unreasonably charmed by Steve’s accidental mess. Bucky watches the arc of it like he’s accustomed to such ridiculous trajectories.
Steve huffs out a huge sigh once he’s done, slumping boneless against the mattress. His mouth is red and indented where he’s been biting, crimson smeared over his teeth.
Peggy pulls her fingers out of Bucky’s mouth, where he’s still sucking her. She wipes her fingers off on Bucky’s face, on Steve’s thigh. Steve’s already whimpering again, and Bucky turns to cup his face in his hands. He re-situates himself so he can curl around Steve and still watch Peggy.
Peggy keeps up her gentle thrusting until Steve’s noises sound pained, and not in the fun way. She pulls out slow, giving Steve a little swat on the ass, and steps back to start removing the harness.
Steve leg falls over Bucky, he’s whimpering, muscles quivering from the force of so many orgasms too quickly. Bucky strokes up and down his beautiful back, shushing him, kissing his red face. Bucky sweet talks him and watches Peggy over Steve’s head, removing her lingerie, peeling wet panties off.
“Gotta get you on your back,” Bucky whispers into Steve’s ear, kissing the shell. “Make some room for her.” Steve grunts. He doesn’t shake his head, but he makes it clear that his movement is compromised and that he’ll need a hell of a good reason for any physical transference.
Peggy’s already climbing onto the bed, on her knees, hovering over them. She directs them with her hands, pushing and pulling them where she wants. Steve wiggles into place, disgruntled and wanting to doze through the next hour or so.
Bucky’s the one who ends up on his back, Steve pressed up against his side, his back to the wall. The position gets Steve’s soft, oversensitive dick pressed against Bucky’s hairy thigh. When he tries to move his hips away, Peggy swats him. He grumbles, but he settles where she wants him. He closes his eyes and rubs his face against Bucky’s chest.
“Brat,” Bucky murmurs, affectionate. He rubs a hand through Steve’s hair.
“So, Mr. Barnes,” Peggy says, playful, smiling at him where she’s looming over them on her knees. “I believe you’d said four was your previous recorded limit?” Bucky opens his mouth to ask what she’s talking about, and then his brain catches up all at once.
“Yeah,” he says through a slow grin. “Guess you got me beat, Agent Carter.” Peggy laughs, triumphant. She runs her finger tips over Bucky’s skinny chest.
“And what do I get for winning, pet.” It’s a question, but she doesn’t make it sound like one. Bucky lifts a hand between her legs, where she’s dripping down her inner thighs. Bucky wipes one long line of moisture off her skin and pops the finger in his mouth, sucking the taste off.
“Whatever you want. You’re in charge around here.” Peggy’s arousal couldn’t have been telegraphed better if she was a goddamn cartoon character with a flood gushing out of her cunt. Her smile drops off her face, dark eyes glittering with intent. She gets her knees over Bucky’s shoulders, shimmying into place. She’s so wet that Bucky can smell her heady slick hovering a foot above his face.
Bucky lifts his shoulders off the bed, just high enough to lick the juice right off her inner thigh. She makes a desperate noise and shoves him back down on the bed. Steve’s head is up, now, watching with wide eyes as Peggy sits herself on Bucky’s collarbones. Steve gets jostled when Bucky curls his arms around Peggy’s hips, pressing spread fingers on either side of Peggy’s cunt.
Peggy rolls her hips into the pressure, her head tipping back as she sighs. She gets a hand into Bucky’s hair and gives it a little tug.
“Ready?” she asks. Bucky nods, licking his lips. Peggy laughs, sits forward, and presses her pussy against Bucky’s face.
Bucky doesn’t bother starting slow. Peggy’s been ready for it for too long, she doesn’t need to be worked up. He gets his tongue flat against her, hums when her hips jerk against his mouth. The sound vibrates against her, makes her pull his hair again. She tastes good, ocean spray and sweat, briny with need. He licks fat, long strokes along the length of her, takes a moment to circle her clit with his tongue.
It doesn’t take long until she’s riding his face, pressing her clit against his nose, grinding back against his wet chin. She’s moaning, pulling at her nipples, head tipped back. She chases her orgasm, desperate for it, riding Bucky’s face like she’s trying to break a feral horse.
Steve’s got himself propped up on an elbow, still red faced, breathing through his mouth He soothes his palm over Bucky’s stomach, down Peggy’s spine to cup her ass.
“Fuck, Peg,” he says, gaze roaming, trying to memorize the moment. He reaches up to pull the pins out of her hair, letting it fall around her face and shoulders. She shivers with little orgasms, jerks her hips hard.
Bucky’s got his hands in the game again, rubbing his thumbs against the crease of her groin. He’s trying to be an active player while Peggy rides for it, panting hard above him.
“Peggy,” Steve says, voice low. He starts to pull her against him. She doesn’t fight, leans against his chest. Steve pulls her off Bucky’s face, gets her sitting in the vee of his legs, back to chest, her knees hooked over his. He gets his fingers on her clit, rubbing her hard, making her moan.
Bucky’s already flipped himself over, situated himself on his belly between their legs. Once he’s close enough, Steve uses his big arms to hold Peggy against him. She makes a frustrated noise, turns her head to tell him off.
“He’s good at this,” Steve says, before she can speak. Bucky’s already got his mouth on her again, makes Peggy moan with it. “Let him do it.”
Bucky goes down on her until his face is numb, licking and sucking, rubbing his thumb over her opening. He hums and moans against her, letting the vibration pull her closer to the edge of the big one.
When Peggy comes, it’s with both hands in Bucky’s hair, pulling hard enough that Bucky hears the pop of follicles tearing out. He laps his tongue against her, long, slow strokes, until she starts to catch her breath. Steve pets her torso with rhythmic movements, from under her breasts to the tops of her thighs. He’s kissing her neck until Peggy turns her head to kiss his mouth. Bucky lays his head against Peggy’s thigh and watches them, smiling to himself.
Peggy pulls his hair again, gentle this time. Bucky follows her wordless direction until he’s level with the two of them. She turns her head and kisses Bucky, tasting herself on his mouth and sighing. Bucky’s dick is hard again, pressed to Peggy’s skin, but he’s content to ignore it.
Steve gets greedy, palms Bucky’s head with his big paws and pulls him in for a kiss over Peggy’s shoulder. Peggy presses her face against Bucky’s neck, leaving smeared lipstick kisses on his skin.
“You look worked over,” Steve says, breaking the kiss. Bucky laughs against his mouth, lifts a hand to flick his earlobe.
“Says you. Fuck,” Bucky swears. He turns and flops himself down on the mattress, back pressed to the wall. “I could sleep for a week.” Peggy’s answering hum seems to be in agreeance, slumped back against Steve’s barrel chest, eyes half closed.
“Really? I think I could go again,” Steve says. Peggy laughs and Bucky throws a clumsy punch at him. They lay curled up around each other, lazily palming any skin they can get their hands on. It’s sweet, the sleepy afterglow of something so electrifying.
It’s Bucky who gets up first, after they laze for a while on the bed together. He pulls on the bare minimum of clothing so he can venture out and find a sink. He cleans himself up in the bathroom, rubbing Victory red lipstick and jizz off his body, looking at the marks on his skin that will darken to bruises by the morning. The wet rags are cool by the time he gets back to Steve’s room.
Steve and Peggy have found a more comfortable position on the bed. Bucky tasks himself with scrubbing them down, just so he can watch them a little longer. Peggy smiles at him, sleepy and charming, while he kneels on the bed and cleans Steve’s come off the two of them.
“Mm, off,” Steve says, pulling at Bucky’s trousers.
“Can’t, pal,” Bucky says. “Back to the barracks. Gotta be accounted for.” Peggy shakes her head. She wraps her beautiful fingers around Bucky’s wrist.
“Not yet,” Peggy says. Bucky stops. He looks at them, damp and half asleep, gorgeous, reaching out for him.
Bucky gets back in the bed.