Sucker Punch

by yellow_crayon

Summary:

Steve Rogers is not the blushing virgin everyone thinks.

(Five times they almost get caught and one time they do.)

COMPLETE

Notes:

• Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: 吧唧特工队 by monicael

Chapter 1: Toys

Summary:

Sex in a SHIELD facility restroom.

Bucky's sweating inside his suit.

A drop of moisture slides torturously slow along his hairline, leaving a wet trail along his temple before gravity pulls it down to land on the spotless glass conference table. He grits his teeth silently and moves one white-knuckled fist minutely to wipe it away, ignoring Natasha's curious glance.

The room is not hot. In fact, none of the other seven or so Avengers are sweating in their uniforms.

Just Bucky.

"We infiltrated the Hydra headquarters through these three points, here, here and here." He can barely hear Captain America's voice as he gives the post-mission debriefing to Nick Fury and the others. Another drop of sweat lands on his clenched fist, pooling in the groove between his knuckles.

"Bucky." He's vaguely aware of a voice calling out his name. Bucky looks up to see everyone staring expectantly at him, Steve's blue eyes also. He swallows past the hot lump in his throat, fights down the moan about to surface and clears his throat.

"Buck, what was the name of the town where we set up the checkpoint again?" Steve prompts him innocently.

Bucky tightens his flesh fist, feeling his nails dig into the flesh of his palm. Steve knows fully well what the name of the town is. He just wants to torture him.

He says the name of the town in steady clipped words, voice quiet and head lowered, long tangled brown hair blocking his eyes.

"Thanks, Buck." Steve says, sounding outwardly grateful, but Bucky sees him reach casually into his pocket with one hand while the other points to another spot on the map. Bucky's body seizes in his seat, the not-so-small vibrator seated deep within his ass now vibrating a notch faster than before.

He forgets how to breath, trying his hardest to keep his struggle internal. There's an ugly red blush crawling up his neck, thankfully concealed beneath his high collar. He can taste the bitter tang of blood in his mouth.

There's a loud crunch of glass shattering and the team turn as one to see a huge angry spiderweb of cracks spread from where Bucky's synthetic hand is gripping the edge hard enough to shatter the thick enforced glass surface of the meeting table.

"Holy shit. You okay, Barnes?" Clint pulls up his purple-tinted shades with wide eyes.

He forces his head up and down in a jerky nod, keeping his eyes firmly downcast while his brain tries to order his hand to let go. The mechanical limb whirls and shifts, restless and desperate like its master.

"It's probably a small malfunction. I'll check it out after this." Stark raises his eyes from his StarkPhone for a brief assessing glance and says reassuringly. Natasha doesn't look convinced, but they all go back to listening to Steve, who's got a small smirk on his face now. The asshole.

He keeps his shoulders hunched and eyes downcast the entire meeting, not a single word of Steve's little speech passing through his sex-muddled brain. The vibrator is digging into his overstimulated prostate, sending sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine and causing the pressure in his balls to build up to unbearable levels. Steve's got him strapped down like a little whore, thick leather buckles sliding along his inner thighs, securing the vibrator in place and wrapping a tight painful ring around the base of his dick, preventing him from creaming his pants over and over again from the mounting stimulation.

Bucky's sure Steve's super soldier senses can pick up the soft whirl of the vibration inside him, invisible to the rest of the team, but sending tremors up Bucky's spine with every tiny motion.

When Steve reaches for the hidden remote inside his pocket again, Bucky gives up all pretenses of being okay anymore, shooting up from his seat next to Bruce and making the scientist jump in surprise.

"Restroom." He manages to say past clenched teeth, fighting the urge to palm his aching groin. Steve runs his dark blue eyes down his body, lingering on the spot between his legs.

"Sure, Buck. We're almost done." He says with a smile.

He's staggering like a drunken sailor, but Bucky is past caring now. He just needs to reach the restroom before Steve cranks up the vibrations again.

The restroom is empty, thank God. He barely manages to stagger inside before his shaky legs give out and the fearsome Winter Soldier slides to the ground with a broken moan muffled behind his fist. He all but rips open his fly, weak unsteady fingers pawing at the restraints. He needs to come. The pressure is starting to drive him insane.

His cock is flushed dark red, drooling uncontrollably at the tip as it springs free of the painful confines of his heavy uniform pants. He wraps the human hand around his straining dick and tries to relieve some of the pressure. Bucky lets out a pained desperate sob when it doesn't really give him any relief. It feels like he's about to wet himself any minute now, pleasure bordering pain. He's considering going against Steve's wishes and snapping the leather straps with the combat knife in his thigh holster when the vibrator in his ass gives a mighty shudder and starts jiggling hard enough to make him see stars.

"Fuck..." There are tears blurring his vision, but Bucky still manages to make out the shape of Steve's dark combat boots just outside the stall.

"Bucky?" There's a smug smirk in Steve's voice.

He nearly breaks down the door trying to get to Steve, half stumbling and half crawling. Captain America looks immaculate and clean in his uniform, his blond hair swept back from his forehead. Steve smiles lovingly down at him and pulls his own zipper down.

Bucky doesn't need to be told twice, opening his red swollen lips and taking Steve all the way down his throat, pressing his nose into the blond curls at the base of Steve's cock, the tendons in his flushed neck straining. The heavy length in his mouth is obstructing his airway, but Bucky's done this enough times to learn how to hold his breath long enough to get Steve off. He tightens his throat around Steve's dick and bobs his head up and down, eyes watering from the rough intrusion. He moans when Steve ups the vibration again, one hand reaching down to fist Bucky's messy hair and thrusting gently into his mouth.

"So beautiful and desperate." Steve breaths appreciatively, voice rough with arousal. "If only Hydra can see its greatest weapon now."

Bucky rolls his eyes up at Steve and pulls away to suck at the tip of his cock, tonguing at the slit. "You know I am capable of ripping your balls off right, Stevie?" He rasps, licking a hot moist strip up Steve's dick and squeezes his metal fingers in warning.

Captain America smiles innocently down at the Winter Soldier and cranks the vibrations up to maximum.

The noise it forces out of Bucky's throat is halfway between a curse and a sob. Bucky's cock is drooling uncontrollably now, creating a small puddle of precome on the spotless floor. He presses his face against Steve's clothed thigh and closes his eyes with a tired whimper, body shaking minutely from the vibrations inside his body.

"Steve, let me come. I can't. It's too much." He gives up and begs like Steve wants.

Steve's resolve cracks and Bucky nearly sobs in relief when his lover leans down and kisses his lips briefly, reaching between his legs to unfasten the cock ring.

He comes untouched, hot moisture pouring past Steve's fingers as cum drools out of his cock in thick white globs. Bucky flinches when Steve rubs at his still swollen dick, spreading his slippery seed all over his sensitive length and rubbing at the slit relentlessly, ignoring the weak hands trying to shove him away. Bucky's body tenses up as Steve forces a second orgasm out of his overstimulated body, jacking his spent dick and milking every last drop out of his boneless body.

Steve turns off the vibrator and licks his soiled hand clean, lapping up Bucky's cum like it's the most delicious thing in the world. Bucky whimpers when Steve gently pulls the huge artificial cock out of his abused ass. He's still hard and Bucky doesn't hesitate to pin his lover against the wall of the stall and swallow him down again. It doesn't take long for Steve to come down his throat, coating the inside of his mouth with his hot semen. Bucky has to swallow twice to keep it from running down his lips, but a small trickle still manages to leak out of the corner of his abused mouth and land on his leather uniform. He gives Steve's spent dick a few extra hard sucks just to watch him squirm a little from the overstimulation.

"I hate you." He says out loud and lets Steve help him tuck his spent cock back inside his pants.

"I love you too, Buck." Steve returns with a laugh and wipes them clean.

The door to the restroom creaks open and Bucky nearly breaks Steve's wrist with his metal hand when he hears Clint's voice. "Hey Cap, are you guys okay? You've been in there for a while."

Bucky's eyes are wide when they meet Steve's.

"Uh, yeah. We're fine, Clint. Bucky's not feeling well. He just threw up." Steve calls out, eyes never straying from Bucky's face. He wiggles his eyebrows expectantly and Bucky sighs inwardly, rolling his eyes.

He plays along and makes a loud gagging sound. Steve beams happily at him.

"Oh man. I'll tell the guys not to wait up then. Need any help?" Clint asks.

"No, thanks. I got it covered." Steve says and slides his hand down to grope Bucky's ass.

"The things I do for you." Bucky hisses quietly and bites down on Steve's earlobe hard enough to leave a mark.

Chapter 2: Jealousy

Summary:

Steve gets jealous of all the attention Bucky's been receiving.

Notes:

Warnings for: Window sex, orgasm denial. Slight dom/sub kink? Praise kink.

"Steve, please..." Bucky's voice is hoarse and unsteady now, not the smooth velvet soft tone he usually uses, he sounds shaky and dripping with need.

"Please what, baby?" Steve asks from his spot by the closet, hands still folding their clean laundry and hanging up various articles of clothing. He doesn't look up, voice calm and composed.

Bucky knows it's his fault this time, hurling himself out the window of the office building to save the pretty blonde dame with the sparkling blue eyes that reminded him of the way Steve used to look. He'd set her down gently on a neighboring roof and draped his leather uniform jacket over her willowy shoulders to ward off the cold, and apparently she'd fallen head-over-heels for the silent deadly Winter Soldier, much to Steve's quiet displeasure.

And now, he's been punished for it.

"I'm sorry, Stevie. Please, I won't..." Bucky hiccups unsteadily, red lips swollen and bitten raw, his bare chest heaving and shining with sweat.

Steve hadn't allowed him to come for almost an hour now, keeping Bucky on the edge with an occasional touch or an infuriatingly gentle and teasing kiss, enough to spark pleasure down his spine but never enough to push him over the edge. He'd told Bucky he could use his fingers, but was not allowed to actually touch his leaking dick.

It hurts.

"Won't what, sweetie? You did nothing wrong." Steve sighs with an innocent smile and drapes a clean shirt over a coat hanger before walking to the bed. Bucky spreads his legs in silent offering and arches under Steve's gentle palm as it slides up his naked inner thigh. He moans softly and closes his eyes when Steve's finger rubs against his loose pink hole, gathering the wet sticky lubricant and sliding roughly inside. Bucky muffles a loud sob and tenses under Steve's hand, orgasm approaching.

"You're not allowed to come yet, James." The steel in Steve's voice makes him close his eyes in dread, a wet trickle of moisture sliding down his cheek.

Two fingers now, warm and thick, rubbing against his soft wet passage, skirting around his prostate with infuriating featherlight touches. Bucky is breathing hard, eyes glazed and staring at the ceiling, trying to control his body's primal urges to come all over Steve's fist.

"Dr. Doom has been sighted, all Avengers assemble in five minutes."

It's Stark's voice over the emergency comm, tense and urgent.

Bucky's eyes are red-rimmed and wide when he meets Steve's blue gaze. His lover pulls his fingers out of his warm body with a soft regretful sigh and casually licks the wet digits clean. Steve pats Bucky's naked hip, ignoring the angry red erection he's sporting and points to their closet.

"We got to go, baby." Steve says and goes for his uniform.

Bucky grits his teeth with a dark scowl, and under Steve's hawk-like gaze, flips off the bed still hard and stalks over to put on his own uniform, hearing Steve's quiet intake of breath when he shimmies his uniform pants up his naked hips and drops the jacket over his bare shoulders. Steve reaches over and pulls him into a bruising kiss, one hand going to cup his still-hard dick in his pants and the other catching a pert nipple between thumb and forefinger, pinching the sensitive nub hard enough to make Bucky gasp.

"Get this wrapped up fast and I'll fuck you properly when we get back, Soldier." Steve growls in his ear and Bucky has to force himself to stop grinding his dick against Steve's palm and walk toward the door.

It's a hard straightforward fight, Dr. Doom's new and improved Doombots tearing up the streets of New York. The Avengers are busy trying to vacate the streets and destroy the enemies, and if the others had seen how red Bucky's eyes were, how his steps had been slightly unsteady, they didn't mention it.

Bucky is a silver and black blur next to Steve, taking down as many Doombots as the Hulk, his eyes dark and expressionless behind the face mask.

It's over pretty soon and they're doing damage control when Bucky catches sight of the little blonde dame from before waving at him from the crowd of onlookers, her bright blue eyes shining. He can still feel the shape of Steve's fingers in his ass. Bucky turns to see Steve staring at him, expression unreadable.

He stalks smoothly over to her, brown hair framing his face and towering above the tiny girl. There are cameras going off around them and she looks like she's about to have an asthma attack, blue eyes wide with excitement and adoration. No hint of fear or uncertainty. She looks cute and bold, like Steve when he'd been just a short little beanstalk.

"Bucky." He can hear the roiling, barely contained jealousy in Steve's voice.

He turns back to her, one dirty gloved finger going to gently trace her smooth cheek. An excited murmur goes through the crowd around them and everyone watches as the Winter Soldier leans down and...

Kisses her cheek.

The crowd goes wild.

"That's definitely going to make front page news tomorrow." Stark comments casually, flipping his visor up as Natasha pulls out her StarkPhone to take a picture.

Steve scowls and clutches his shield so tight his knuckles turn white.

 

---

 

"You did that on purpose didn't you, Buck?" Steve's hand slips inside his uniform jacket the moment the elevator slips shut behind them and Bucky tips his head back against Steve's shoulder, turning his head to suck on the sensitive spot behind Steve's ear. They're back on their floor in the Tower and Steve rolls Bucky's nipple in his fingers, hips grinding against his ass, his rock hard erection hot and insistent. Bucky's own dick throbs in need, arousal heady and thick.

"She's a pretty lil' thing." He drawls lazily and hisses in pain when Steve's hand twists his abused nipple.

"Yeah? Does your pretty little dame know you like to take it up the ass? Get all excited when you have a nice hard cock in your mouth to drool over, hmm?" Steve mouths the words against his neck and bites down hard. It's all it takes for Bucky to come untouched, pleasure welling up his spine and skin prickling from the long over-due orgasm, hips grinding against empty air as he finally comes in his pants, hot semen sliding down the skin of his thigh. His knees give out and Steve's arms are the only things holding him upright. Steve groans in his ear and thrusts his pelvis against Bucky's ass.

They end up pressed against the floor-to-ceiling window, Bucky's bare chest pressed against the cold glass. Steve has his hands pulled back, the jacket bunched around his wrists and keeping his hands tied behind his back. Bucky's panting harshly, fogging up the glass, his hair hanging in his eyes.

"Look up, Buck. See that office building over there, hmm?" Steve slides one hand into his soiled pants to wrap around his still half-hard dick and uses the other to tip his chin up. "See the one with the lights on? Think your pretty little dame is still at work?"

Bucky moans when Steve shoves two digits past his swollen lips and obediently sucks them into his mouth, lathering them with saliva, more moisture dribbling down his chin.

"You think she can see you, Buck? So pretty and wrecked, so hungry for my cock...my pretty little slut." Bucky's breath stutters when Steve pulls his pants off his hips and guides him out of them, shivering from the cool air against his naked skin. Steve's still fully dressed behind him and that thought sends a hot shiver of arousal down Bucky's spine.

Bucky wails when Steve drags his fly down far enough to free his cock, lines them up and thrust roughly into his still loose and sensitive hole. Steve feels fucking huge, thick and warm, spearing him open. Bucky presses his forehead against the moist glass and tries to keep himself standing upright, body still tingling from the last orgasm. Steve curses softly behind him, breathing hard and mouthing at the abused skin on Bucky's shoulder as he bottoms out, his pelvis completely pressed against Bucky's backside, warm and distracting. He cries out when Steve pulls out until only the tip of his cock is still inside and drills back in, pace brutal and deliciously rough. Steve sets a punishing rhythm that has Bucky biting his lip hard enough to draw blood to stop the wanton cries spilling from his own mouth. His cock is fully hard again, drooling droplets of precome onto the floor and glass. Steve shoves him against the cold glass just to feel him shiver from the bleak contrast, body clenching around the hard hot dick inside his ass.

"Think your pretty girl can give you what you need, baby?" Steve murmurs softly into his ear, hard warm hands pulling Bucky's naked hips up for a deeper angle, rutting him into the glass window like an animal, the sound of their copulation obscenely loud in the dark living room. Bucky can feel his orgasm approaching, Steve's possessive streak doing all sorts of delicious dark things to him. He's struggling to remove the bindings on his wrists when Steve's fingers card into his hair and pulls his head back in warning, grinding his hips forward threateningly.

"You don't get to touch. Not this time, Buck. You come on my cock or you don't come at all." Bucky's knees almost give out at Steve's words, eyes fluttering shut when Steve continues to jackhammer into his ass. His body feels on fire.

"So beautiful, baby. And mine, only mine." Steve punctuates each word with a brutal thrust. Bucky's stopped trying to hold back the sounds clawing up his throat anymore, just tips his ass back and lets Steve have it.

"Tell me who you belong to, baby." Steve growls, nipping at his ear. Bucky's eyes are watering, saliva dripping down his chin.

"Yours, please! Stevie...always yours..." He can barely recognize his own voice, hoarse and raw, utterly fucked out. He sounds wrecked.

"You're going to come for me when I say so, baby. So good for me, so pretty. You can let go, I've got you, Buck." Steve's praises are what tip him over the edge, a broken sob catching painfully in his chest as Steve's warm hand closes over his straining cock and strokes him through the almost painful orgasm. Bucky moans at the sight of his own hot sticky semen flowing over Steve's fist in thick white spurts and shudders when he feels Steve come deep in his ass, searing hot and filling him full to the brim.

"You're so perfect, so good for me baby. It's okay, I got you." Bucky lets Steve gather him into his arms and put him back into bed, lets Steve press gentle kisses into his skin and clean up the mess between his thighs, too tired to do anything else.

"I love you, Steve. Only you." Bucky murmurs with a yawn when steve settles down next to him and tucks his face contentedly into Steve's neck.

"I know." Comes the reply, happy and warm, with a trace of smugness and triumph. Bucky muffles his smile against Steve's skin and drops off to sleep with the sound of Steve's calm steady heartbeat against his ear.

 

---

 

The next time Bucky saves a civilian girl from getting crushed by a flying school bus, he turns without a word and walks back to Steve, leaving her staring longingly after his retreating back.

Steve can't help but smile.

Chapter 3: Mission

Summary:

Bucky's on a mission and Steve becomes a big distraction.

Notes:

Warnings for this chapter: Phone sex? Naughty Steve Rogers.

"Status update, Soldier." Steve's voice cuts through the silence like a clap of thunder in his forgotten earpiece and Bucky flinches so hard he almost shoots himself in the foot.

"Jesus Christ, Steve! Lower your goddamn voice, they can hear you all the way across the deck." He hisses through the mic and melts back into the shadows, keeping his eyes trained on the group of men standing over their hostages.

There's a bit of muttering and shuffling on Steve's end, a loud "oww, you poked me in the crotch with your cast, Rogers! Stop wriggling!", and some more muttering and shuffling, a door slams and everything goes quiet. Bucky's earpiece crackled and he hears Steve heave an almighty sigh.

"How's this, Buck?" He asks and this time the volume isn't loud enough to kill Bucky's eardrums.

"Better. How's the situation on your end?" He asks back and signals to Natasha and Clint to move in.

"I convinced Stark to take a coffee break," Steve says, "you guys going in?"

"Yup." Bucky says, popping his lips on the syllable. He pulls out his weapons, the muscles in his body going taunt as he braces himself. Clint is a blur of black against the moonlit sky. He raises his bow. Bucky looks up, meets Natasha's eyes and nods.

They cut through the enemy like a hot knife through butter. Those special ops gone rogue barely have time to reach for their weapons before Bucky and Natasha descend on them. Bucky kicks a man overboard and hears the telltale splash as he hits the water.

"That was hot, Bucky." Steve says admiringly. Bucky rolls his eyes behind his night-vision goggles and jabs another man in the trachea. He goes down clutching at his neck and gasping for air.

"Stop it." Bucky mutters quietly behind his mask as he dodges out of the way.

"Am I distracting you?" Steve's got that mischievous lilt in his voice now and Bucky's stomach sinks in dread. He's never understood why people think Steve is the picture of innocence and virtue, when in reality, he's a-

"Let's have sex, Buck." Steve suggests. Bucky heaves out a loud rattling sigh and pulls out his combat knife to cut the hostages loose.

-a stubborn dirty little pervert, that's what.

"I'm not having phone sex with you," he insists and Clint snorts next to him, appearing out of nowhere.

"Chatting on a private line with your girlfriend, Barnes?" He asks with an obnoxious grin as he cuts another man loose. "You're gonna get in trouble with Cap."

Oh the fucking irony of it.

"Yeah, Buck. You're gonna get in trouble. I'm going to have to punish you." Steve whispers in his ear. Bucky just ducks his head and keeps working. He's professional like that.

"What's her name?" Clint keeps up the casual banter as they finish up on Deck Six. Natasha is nowhere to be seen. Bucky ignores the curious archer, checks his watch and makes for the rail. He flips over the guardrail and drops silently down to the next deck.

There's a bit of static before Steve's Captain America voice echoes over their public comm. Natasha reports her status and Bucky follows suit, rattling off a string of numbers and parting ways with Barton.

"So, about that suggestion earlier..." Steve prompts, switching back to their private line.

Bucky pauses in his steps and heaves another gigantic sigh. "Steve..."

"I'm bored. And there's an itch under the damn cast I can't reach." Steve, ever the stoic image of America, whines into Bucky's ear.

"Just think of something else and the itch will go away, Steve." Bucky suggests patiently, trying to keep the smile out of his voice. He drops down directly over one of the men, snapping his neck with quiet efficiency. He slams the other guy's head against the wall twice before letting him slide down to the floor like silly putty.

"Distract me, baby." Steve's hopeful little request makes Bucky pause again just to roll his eyes skyward.

"Are you rolling your eyes right now?" Steve demands after a small anticipatory silence.

"Are you high?" Bucky retorts sarcastically, pushing his way into the control room.

"No, the painkillers they gave me isn't nearly enough to get me high, you know that." Steve explains. Bucky chuckles under his breath and slots the USB into the system.

Manual override, Stark had said. Bucky keys in the activation code.

Fifteen minutes.

He blinks at the flashing digits.

"Alright, I'm in. Natasha should be stealing the data off of the other computer. I got the shutdown sequence plugged in, but it's going to take a while." Bucky says, "tell Stark his tech is starting to lose its magic. Fifteen whole minutes..."

There's a long silent pause on the other end, and Bucky almost considers tapping his earpiece to see if it had malfunctioned when he hears a curious sound, a sort of rustling. He hears a heavy exhale followed by more rustling and heat shoots up Bucky's spine when he realizes its Steve panting softly over the line.

"Steve, what are you doing?" He asks quietly, throat suddenly dry. Bucky darts a quick glance toward the door. He'd locked it when he came in, just in case.

Steve gives a breathless little laugh over the line and Bucky's heart stutters in his chest. Steve can't be...he just can't.

"Keep talking, Buck...wanna keep hearing your voice." Steve says, biting off a groan.

"Steve...!" Bucky chokes out, astonished.

They're on a mission, for fucks sakes. And Steve's just sustained some nasty injuries on their last mission, so he's on reconnaissance with Stark this time. He's not in any shape to be doing this. But truth be told, between the sudden increase in missions and Steve's injuries, they haven't really gotten the chance to...

Bucky's getting hard just listening to Steve's unsteady pants. His synthetic hand spasms and clenches into a tight fist against his thigh, the smooth metal plating shifting and whirling restlessly in sync with his racing heart.

"Shit, Steve...ya little punk..." Bucky mutters in defeat and lets his head fall back to thunk against the cool wall behind his back. The room is dark except for the glow of the monitor and the only things he can hear are Steve's gasps and uneven panting.

"You have thirteen minutes and twenty one seconds to bring me off, asshole." Bucky drawls lazily into the mic and Steve laughs in surprised delight. He feels a twinge of guilt and nostalgia. Sex over the goddamn phone, it's what the old mischievous Bucky Barnes from Brooklyn would have suggested, not the Winter Soldier, who's a lifeless killing machine and...

"Buck, you still there?" Steve asks and Bucky snaps to when he hears the telltale hint of worry laced in Steve's warm voice. Steve who worries and frets over him like an overprotective mama bear, who tries his darn best to make Bucky laugh, who is probably the freakin' center of Bucky's tiny universe.

"Yeah, I just..." He swallows past the lump in his throat, "was trying to figure out how to get the workplace sexual harassment complaint past Coulson and into Fury's hands."

Steve laughs at that, clear and warm. Bucky smiles in the dark, affection spreading hot and heavy in his chest. "Phil takes care of his own, Buck."

Buck snorts, "Phil is it? You fellas on a first name basis? Something I should know about, Rogers?"

Steve gives a frustrated groan on the other side of the line, "I'm trying to initiate sex, Buck, sex! And you're talking about Phil Coulson."

"Ten minutes and fifteen seconds, Stevie. Keep up the good work." Bucky says breezily, flipping out his favorite knife with a knowing smirk. Steve's always had the attention span of a gnat, easily distracted by all sorts of things.

"Alright, on your knees, Soldier." The sudden change in Steve's voice makes goosebumps ripple over Bucky's skin, the sudden hard commanding tone sending heat blossoming in his stomach, settling between his uniform clad legs.

"Steve-" he tries to protest.

"I know you're hard, don't deny it, Buck." Steve growls, "gonna take you apart like this, have you writhing like a cat in heat, baby."

Bucky shuts his eyes with a muffled groan, the knife clattering forgotten to the ground as he obediently palms his own aching groin. "Steve..."

"Go on and touch yourself, Buck," Steve instructs and Bucky's traitorous fingers fly to comply, jerking down his trousers and freeing his already hard dick. He yanks off his glove with his teeth and wraps cool fingers around the stiff flesh, a small breathless gasp escaping his lips.

"Are you on your knees, Buck?"

"Yes..." Bucky hisses through clenched teeth.

"God, baby, so good for me." Steve groans in his ear, his own breath hitching. Bucky can't help but preen at the praise, like the little attention whore he secretly is.

"Gonna slide my dick in your mouth, Buck. You'd like that, those perfect sinful lips, all swollen and red, wrapped around my cock. You like it rough, don't you, baby? My hand in your hair, and choking on my cock."

He moans openly at Steve's words. For his first shot at this, Steve's not half bad. Bucky's cock twitches in his hand, precome leaking over his fingers and soaking into the crotch of his uniform, but he's too aroused to care.

"Steve..." Bucky whispers desperately.

Steve's voice is heavy with desire, his breath uneven and harsh in the earpiece. Bucky can almost imagine those powerful hands on him, pressing bruises into his skin and holding him down, and Steve's dick, hot and heavy in his mouth, crammed down his throat, cutting off his air supply and-

"Buck, suck on your fingers," Steve commands, "the metal ones."

He throws his head back against the wall with a low curse. Steve and his damn stubborn need to "help" Bucky recover from his trauma, starting with 'That Stupid Metal Hand'. Bucky had snorted and muttered a "metal hand my ass", and apparently Steve had gotten creative after that point.

He takes those cold hard digits into his mouth, wincing at the bitter metallic tang. Steve breathes a litany of praises down the line, and Bucky shimmies a little, shivering as he bends forward, allowing his saliva-coated fingers to trail down to his ass.

His body feels tight and tense after nearly two weeks of endless missions and no sex, and it burns a little when he slides the finger up to the second knuckle, but it's the good kind of pain and he doesn't really mind.

"That's it, sweetheart, spread yourself open for me." Steve croons.

He adds another finger, relishing the burn and scissors his fingers. Bucky closes his eyes, tightens his fist over his drooling dick and concentrates on Steve's voice.

"Remember that time with the pretty little dress, Buck? You were so beautiful, my private little showgirl."

"That was your stupid idea, damn it." Buck grounds out, hips jerking as he finds his prostate and Steve starts growling those provocative words in his earpiece.

They'd been doing those tours around the States and Steve had convinced him to try on one of those dresses the USO girls left behind. And afterward...afterward, Steve had bounced him in his lap like a cheap whore, the little blue red and white dress flapping around Bucky's wet trembling thighs, the thick coat of lipstick smearing a mess all over Steve's chin and shirt collar as Bucky tried not to scream his name. Steve, still in his crisp uniform, the faint smell of gunpowder on his lapels, Steve's dick thick and hot inside him, impossibly deep, those heavy possessive hands clamped around his waist...

"Shit..." Bucky sobs, pressing his flushed cheek against the cold ground, his ass stretched around three hard fingers.

"Buck, you have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now," Steve confesses in a rush and Bucky half groans half laughs.

"You'd slide right in, probably. 'M all wet and open for you." He confesses unsteadily, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as he fists his cock, thumbing at the wet slit. Steve curses loudly in his ear.

"I'm gonna come, Buck. I can't-"

Steve's broken words are what pushes him over the edge, crashing head-long into one of the most satisfying orgasms he's had in a while. Bucky's still hunched over himself with his sweaty forehead pressed against the cold hard ground when Steve starts talking over their line again, contentment thick in his voice.

"You got any tissues with ya, sweetheart?" He drawls, and Bucky hears some soft rustling on the other end as he reluctantly peels his eyelids open and groans out a laugh.

"You're a dick, Rogers." He says vehemently and sits upright. Bucky glances down at the mess he's made on the floor and at the flashing digits on the monitor. Steve groans in his ear when he hears Bucky sucking on his soiled fingers.

"You're going to be the death of me, Barnes." Steve confesses breathlessly.

"Not a bad way to go, Rogers." He shoots back with a nonchalant laugh.

"One minute and twenty three seconds, Buck, enough to clean yourself up and get back here." Steve says, the longing clear in his voice.

"'M not in a hurry to get back, Captain." Bucky replies casually, zipping himself back in with a slight wince. The crotch of his uniform is a bit wet, but he's hoping Clint and Natasha won't be able to tell in the dim light.

"Tease." Steve laughs before switching back to their public comm, and a minute later Stark's voice joins his, telling them the location of the SHIELD helicopter.

 

---

 

He's seated on the chopper, Steve a solid weight against his side when Clint rats him out with a triumphant grin. Bucky rolls his eyes behind his floppy bangs and sinks his knife into the upholstery inches from Clint's left ear with well-aimed throw. Agent Coulson turns from the co-pilot seat to give them a warning glare.

"Don't make me turn this helicopter around, boys."

Natasha raises her eyebrow at them and Steve clears his throat before going off about regulations and appropriate workplace behavior. How he can keep a straight face is beyond Bucky's comprehension.

Bucky reaches across Steve and steals Stark's headphones, cranking up the music to drown out Steve's words. Tony huffs and crosses his arms when Bucky winks at him with a obnoxious grin.

"Oh, by the way, her name's Stella, and she's got the best boobs in America." He says, smirking when Steve's ears finally turn pink and the rest of the Avengers launch into a frenzy of gossip despite Coulson's best efforts to quiet them down.

Bucky elbows Steve in the ribs and closes his eyes contentedly with the sound of AC/DC blasting through the headphones.

Notes:

I was thinking of doing that USO showgirl one for the next chapter... Maybe? No? Any thought?

Chapter 4: USO showgirl (WWll)

Summary:

Captain America and His Girl, Steve thinks, a little dazed and a lot aroused as he stares into the clear dressing room mirror.

“Lookin’ beautiful, baby doll.” A low velvety voice drawls from the entrance, and Steve pauses in his conversation with one of the USO girls to stare incredulously at the uniformed man leaning against the door, his heart suddenly leaping to his throat at the familiar nickname.

“Oh, stop it, Sergeant Barnes.” The pretty blonde girl giggles, smacking Bucky on the arm as he saunters closer. He bends down and puckers his lips, blue eyes sparkling with humor behind thick brown lashes, and the girl, Elizabeth or something, Steve can't remember, blushes before coyly pressing her cheek against his lips. A few girls had paused in their makeups and preparations to sigh enviously at the sight of the handsome Sergeant James Barnes standing next to the national icon.

“Sergeant Barnes,” Steve greets him formally.

“Captain,” Bucky returns, snapping a lazy salute, his eyes dancing with mischief as he flicks his gaze over Captain America's sharp military uniform. It’s at times like these that Steve feels the overwhelming urge to put Bucky over his knee and spank him until he’s sobbing for breath, the confident flirty demeanor slipping away to reveal the touch-starved needy thing underneath. He swallows hard and smiles stiffly at his best friend.

“You do realize Elizabeth’s got a fella back home, don’t you?” He says in a low monotone when the girl gets called back into the dressing room.

“Hmm, that I do know. Also, she hates being called Elizabeth. It's Liz.” Bucky replies, humming thoughtfully as he bounces on his heels. He smiles and waves when Elizabeth ducks back out to blow him a kiss. Then, after carefully making sure they’re not being observed, he leans close to Steve’s ear and breathes, “Wasn’t flirtin’ with her in the first place, doll.” Steve feels a heated flush crawl up his high stiff collar when Bucky’s lips brush casually against his earlobe.

They’re temporarily stationed here, since Falsworth and Dum-Dum had both sustained nasty injuries during the last mission and Jones had a few broken ribs from an unexpected explosion. Two days after their arrival, the other "Captain America" and the Captain's Girls had shown up.

“Does it still feel weird to see some stranger in your tight-ass suit pretending to be the real Captain America up on that stage?” Bucky asks curiously, brushing up against Steve briefly as he reaches past him to pick up a sponge caked with powder that the girls had left behind in their hurry to get up on the stage. The backstage area is empty except for them, and Steve can distantly hear the sound of the announcer listing off his impressive accomplishments in that annoyingly exaggerated voice and the smattering of applause that follow. Bucky pats the sponge on the distracted captain’s nose before Steve can stop him, full red lips curling up in that mischievous smile Steve’s so fond of seeing. His best friend has the world’s most beautiful face, with those sparkling blue eyes, sweet dimples and that sinfully red mouth.

“It’s actually a relief, Buck. I hated being paraded around like the world’s biggest pet monkey. You know my place is fighting at the front line with you.” Steve points out, wrapping strong fingers around Bucky’s playful wrist and squeezing in warning. A flash of heated desire flickers through Bucky eyes when Steve tightens his grip. He quickly hides it with a cough and drops the sponge, leaving a white streak imprinted on Steve’s dark immaculate uniform as it falls to the floor.

“Sorry?” He ventures, those beautiful blue eyes flicking up to Steve’s face when he raises a silent eyebrow. He hasn’t let go of Bucky’s wrist yet. Instead, Steve reaches out with the other hand and brushes back a curl of brown hair away from his forehead, making the sergeant’s lashes flutter and his mouth part a little at the slow contact. He leans in almost unconsciously, breath quickening. Steve’s eyes fixate on the O of Bucky’s lips and he reaches down, brushing his thumb over the soft supple flesh. Mesmerized, he dips the digit into Bucky’s mouth, pressing down on his tongue and making a thin track of saliva slide down the side of his mouth. Bucky makes a low protesting sound in his throat, but doesn’t pull away.

Then, Steve picks up the tube of crimson lipstick lying on the dressing room table.

 

---

 

The sound of music is muffled against the loud thump of Steve’s racing heart and the rush of blood in his ears. They’re still in the backstage area, but he’s got the neatly pressed trousers of his captain’s uniform unbuttoned and hanging open around his hips. Bucky is on his knees, his enticing mouth a bright bloody smear of red around Steve’s straining length. He’s getting the oily red lipstick all over Steve’s abdomen and cock, but Steve’s never been this hard before, towering above his sergeant and watching the man struggle to take him deeper into his throat. Bucky’s flushed forehead is dotted with sweat and the rebellious strands of his thick hair are fisted tightly in Steve’s hand as he uses the man’s willing mouth.

When the coils of heat become almost overwhelmingly tight in his belly, Steve pulls Bucky back by his hair and stares, fascinated as his thick length slides out out out past those swollen lips. Bucky hollows his cheeks and lets him slip free with a loud obscene pop. He licks his abused mouth and chuckles weakly, breathing hard and wet tracks trailing down his ruddy cheeks. Moist clumped lashes flutter open as Bucky peers obediently up at him. His shimmering blue eyes crinkle as he smiles and opens his mouth. Steve guides his red cock past Sergeant Barnes’s lips again, rubbing the leaking head against the smooth pallets of Bucky’s tongue and pulling back out. He does this a few more times just to see the sticky strands of precome connecting Bucky’s mouth to his length dribble messily down his chin. Bucky’s breaths are slowing down a little now as he laps at Steve’s hard erection with coy kittenish licks.

Then he shoves himself down Bucky’s throat without warning. Bucky makes a loud startled keening noise and screws his eyes shut, fresh trails of tears sliding down his cheeks as his whole body shudders and spasms at the rough intrusion.

When Steve pulls back out, the sergeant shoots him a wobbly embarrassed smile and swallows thickly, wiping at his soiled mouth with the back of his hand. “I think I just dirtied my uniform, Captain.” He croaks, voice utterly wrecked. “Am I gonna be punished, Sir?”

Steve swallows and presses the sole of his boot gently over the wet fabric between the sergeant’s thighs experimentally. Bucky chokes on an unsteady breath, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he lets out a soft overstimulated gasp. Steve draws the unsteady man up into his arms and presses a warm comforting kiss to his best friend’s sweat-soaked temple. Bucky buries his face against his neck, but Steve's eyes end up settling on the rack of extra uniforms in the corner.

Forcing Sergeant James Barnes into one of those red, white and blue USO showgirl uniforms is just another spur of the moment thing. Yes, like all of his brilliant ideas.

 

---

 

“Baby doll I can’t, Stevie…please…Don't make me look…” Bucky’s a wreck, those pretty blue eyes glazed and his hair a brown mess as Steve’s hot rough palm slide torturously up the bare length of his leg and disappears into shadow of the short red and white skirt. He whines, thrashing a little in the captain’s tight grip around his narrow waist as Steve cups the wet hot mess between his thighs.

Captain America and His Girl, Steve thinks, a little dazed and a lot aroused as he stares into the clear dressing room mirror. He’s got one arm wrapped firmly around Bucky’s waist, the other halfway hidden underneath the provocatively short skirt. He pumps the wet length of Bucky’s erection, rubbing at his slit, and watches his best friend’s reflection. Bucky is flushed with forbidden pleasure and practically glowing with desperation, his swollen sinful mouth parted and red-rimmed eyes smearing hot tears against Steve’s clean-shaven cheek.

“Look at you, Buck.” He whispers reverently, unable to tear his eyes away from the breath-taking sight. “Captain America’s best girl, Buck. That’s who you are, Beautiful. You’re the captain’s favorite girl, aren’t you?”

Bucky wails when he comes, eyes glassy and unseeing as he peers at his reflection, watching as Steve works his oversensitive body through it. He closes his eyes with a broken noise when the sticky white come slowly slides down his bare legs. Steve brings soiled fingers up to Bucky’s red mouth and he parts those lips, sucking them down obediently.

He’s velvety smooth and burning hot when Steve slips the first wet digit into him, the tight squeeze made more tolerable by his own come.

“Baby girl’s all wet for her captain, hmm?” Steve asks, sucking on the red shell of Bucky’s ear. His best friend squirms away from the sensation, trying to twist around and glare at him.

“Damn it, Stevie. Quit talking like- ah!” He shudders and suddenly goes limp against Steve, head lolling onto the captain’s uniformed shoulder as the fingers tap waves upon waves of hot pleasure up his spine. If Steve hadn’t been holding Bucky up, he’d be a boneless pile on the floor by now.

“Found your sweet spot, baby girl?” Steve coos, sucking heavy kisses into the pale arc of Bucky’s exposed neck. His lungs are being constricted in that tight blue sleeveless top, but the dress has somehow tapered his waist into this narrow little thing that Steve can almost wrap both hands around, and boy oh boy, does the sight of that tiny waist do sinful things to the good captain.

“So good for me, baby girl. I’m going to fill you up till your tight little pussy’s dripping with my seed, and then, Buck, I’m gonna eat you out until you scream.” He’s blushing too, behind all the filth he’s spewing, but Bucky doesn’t notice, too caught up in the feeling of Steve’s fingers rubbing relentlessly at his sensitive prostate.

“I need it in me, Steve. Please, Captain, please…” He shuts his eyes and feels Steve shift, fumbling to free his hard dick again. Bucky licks his lips in anticipation, and when the hot blunt tip presses into his loosened body, Steve’s hands drop down to bracket his narrow hips, digging delicious pinpricks of pain into the skin as he finally slides home.

They both let out a sigh when Steve bottoms out, his pelvis flush against Bucky’s rosy backside, the little red and white skirt bunched around his waist. It’s been so long, so long since they’d gotten the chance to be intimate together, months of sneaking short longing glances over campfires and lighting-quick kisses during night shifts. Steve misses this, misses being so closely connected to the love of his life that he can feel Bucky’s heartbeat through his skin. He misses the hot gripping clench of Bucky’s body, misses kissing away the salty tears of pleasure from the laugh lines at the corners of Bucky’s beautiful blue eyes, he misses feeling like he has all the time in the world.

“Buck…Buck…Buck…” He chants into Sergeant Barnes’s neck, breathing in the comforting scent of clean soap, smoke and gunpowder that seems to cling to Bucky’s skin ever since the goddamn war had started. He wants to replace the smell of death and destruction with his own. Bucky should only smell like sunlight and hope.

“When this is all over, will you come back with me?” Steve murmurs, pausing just to savor their intimate connection and record it in his memory, just something nice for the long difficult nights ahead. He laces their fingers together and brings their joined hands up to settle over the flat planes of Bucky’s abdomen. “When we win the war and I’m no longer the Captain America the world needs, when I’m back to being just plain ol’ Steve Rogers, will you still want me, Buck?”

Bucky lets out a soft laugh and nuzzles his flushed face into Steve’s cheek, leaving behind a warm lingering track of moisture.

“Always.” He promises, tightening his fingers around Steve’s. "I wanted you before you became Captain America." 

“If I were a real gal, I’d let you put a baby in me, Rogers. I’d be your wife and we’d be able to hold hands in public.” He swallows and closes his eyes against Steve’s neck. “We’d be married n’ all, a little picket fence and a dog kinda life. But I probably won’t be content to just wait for you while you fought overseas. I’d probably sneak in and join the army, like that pretty dame Carter, just to make sure you’re eating your greens properly.”

“Quit worrying’ 'bout me, Buck, I’m a grown man.” Steve huffs a soft amused breath against his skin and presses a kiss there. “And I adore the way you are, James Buchanan Barnes.”

“Oh doll, I’m always gonna worry about you,” Bucky says quietly, and Steve’s heart swells with the amount of love in his voice.

“I know, I’m the luckiest fella in the world.” He agrees, making Bucky close his eyes and let out a startled gasp when he shifts suddenly, brushing up against that spot inside him.

Steve knows Bucky spoils him rotten. Bucky, who’s a year older and so popular with the dames, is too good to him. To Steve Rogers, receiving Bucky's unconditional love is more of a miracle than the super serum. Bringing Bucky into his life is the only thing God ever did in his favor, and if the old guy’d been real, Steve would kiss him for it, land a big ol’ smacker right-

“Stevie, the performance is over! They’re coming back!” Bucky suddenly tenses, tightening around Steve hard enough to almost make him come. There’s a deep red flush crawling up the back of Bucky’s neck as he squirms in panic. Now that Steve actually pauses long enough to listen, the sound of the music has stopped and he hears girls' laughter coming their way. He’d lost track of time, something he’d always done in Bucky’s presence.

Steve barely has enough time to button up his trousers, toss Bucky’s scattered clothes and shoes into a supply closet and herd a wide-eyed Sergeant Barnes into the nearest velvet curtain when the USO girls, a little sweaty and flushed from their dance numbers come flooding into the dressing room. Captain America whirls around and stares back, his ears bright red and perfectly combed hair mussed beyond recognition. He spots Eliza, no Liz, at the back, her green eyes wide as she takes in the smear of lipstick at his open collar and the state of his mouth, the obvious tent in his hastily buttoned trousers and the rustling curtains behind him.

Bucky’s bare feet are showing, Steve realizes when the first girl covers her mouth and starts to giggle.

“As you were,” He coughs and says as seriously as he can. Then, under everyone’s curious gaze, Captain America turns around and rips the entire curtain clean off the wall, bundling a mortified Bucky out of the backstage area before the girls can rush over and demand the identity of the lucky lady.

 

---

 

“What were you thinking?! What if they find the stuff we left back there, Stevie? Jesus Christ, you could be sent to jail for this if they suspect you!” Bucky’s face is still pale as a ghost when Steve sets him down in a clearing twenty minutes away from base, his eyes shining with worry. Steve drapes the thick velvet curtain around his bare shoulders and cups both palms around Bucky’s round face.

“It’s going to be okay, I promise. No one saw and no one uses that supply closet. I’ve been hanging around these girls long enough to know.” He assures, drawing Bucky’s arms around his waist and rubbing comforting hands down his best friend’s back. Bucky smacks him hard on the shoulder the way he used to when Steve did something particularly stupid back in the day. The familiarity of the gesture makes warmth blossom inside his chest.

Steve laughs and leans down to kiss him, licking into Bucky’s mouth and stealing away all the oxygen from his lungs. They somehow end up lying on the ground, using the drapes and Steve’s uniform jacket to ease the strain on Steve’s back. Bucky’s seated on his abdomen, the USO skirt fanning around his bare legs. Steve runs a hand slowly up the smooth curve of Bucky’s ankle to his thigh, and sighs appreciatively.

“I can’t believe you actually pulled that off,” Bucky says, regarding him with a funny expression. He pulls an imitation of Steve’s serious Captain America face and mimics in a deep voice, “As you were.” Then his lip twitches and Steve feels laughter bubble up from deep within his own chest as they try their best to muffle the seemingly endless giggles.

He hasn’t seen Bucky laugh like this in a long time, hasn’t seen him this free and happy since before the war. He’s still watching Bucky fondly when their laughter dies down and Bucky wipes at his flushed face with quick hands, leaning back to rest against Steve’s raised knees. He stops short when he feels the hard hot thing digging into his lower back. Steve blushes faintly and shoots him a hopeful little smile.

He’s still wet and open when Steve slides back home, arching up under the onslaught of sensation as Bucky sinks down to sit in the cradle of his pelvis. One hand comes up to cling at Bucky’s waist while the other reaches under the skirt and carefully cups his bare bottom, guiding Bucky’s unsteady movements as he encourages the sergeant to ride his dick. Bucky’s panting unsteadily as he squirms atop Steve like he’s a particularly whimsical stallion. He chews at his lips until Steve fears he’s going to bite his way clean through, so he slides two fingers down Bucky’s throat, watching entranced as Bucky hollows his cheeks and squeezes his wet eyes shut.

Steve unzips the corset-like top and slides his other hand inside, pinching a soft nipple and rolling the tender nub around until it hardens shyly under his attention. Bucky’s keening softly under his breath, eyes shut and face flushed as he bounces up and down on Steve’s length, lost in his own pursuit of pleasure. Steve grips him by the back of the neck, drags Bucky’s mouth down to his and starts thrusting up as hard and fast as he can. Bucky’s sobbing his name over and over, his voice occasionally hitching and breaking off from the lack of oxygen as Steve pounds into him. Bucky sinks his teeth into Steve’s dog tags when he comes, his whole body tensing as he clamps down around Steve’s cock, searing hot warmth soaking into the space between them.

Bucky’s eyes are still glazed when Steve pulls out and gently eases him onto his back. His hair is a mess and the thick coat of lipstick that Steve had put onto his mouth is now a blurred mess on his lower face and smeared all over Steve’s white dress shirt collar. He looks like Sin incarnate, lying there in that tight little dress and Steve’s seed leaking slowly from his red hole.

Captain America groans and leans down to seal his lips over Sergeant Barnes's. His best friend parts his legs when Steve touches his damp inner thigh in a silent question.

“Always,” Bucky sighs as Steve slides back in, filling the empty void and chasing away the cold. His voice cracks as he reaches for Steve, silent moisture sliding from the corners of his eyes and into his hair when Steve gathers him carefully into his chest.

“Ruin me, Steve.” He whispers.

 

---

 

“So the rumors are true, then!” Falsworth exclaims when he spots the brief flash of red, white and blue among Steve’s military greens and blacks. Somehow, Steve couldn't bear to toss it away after that night.

“What rumors?” Bucky asks from his spot perched atop a low hanging branch, his long legs encased in high boots and navy uniform pants. He’s got a sniper rifle braced against his left shoulder, the flicker of their campfire gleaming off of the dark metal.

“The USO girls from the last checkpoint told us they caught you red-handed with one of them, but no one would admit to seducing the famous Steve Rogers, so they weren’t sure exactly who had been so beautiful that Captain America himself couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.” Dum-Dum barges gleefully into the conversation before Monty can explain. A few members of the Howling Commandos snicker softly around the fire. Bucky adjusts his rifle, but otherwise stays silent.

“You did remember to 'put it on before putting it in', right? We wouldn’t want the national icon to end up with an illegitimate child overnight.” Morita asks, cautious as always.

Steve exchanges a brief glance with his vigilant sniper before peering down at the thin dress packed carefully in his belongings. He traces a hand over the cool fabric and smiles wistfully.

“No, that won’t happen,” He says quietly and settles down for first watch.

Notes:

They did in fact sneak in and take back Bucky's clothes and shoes. Don't worry. :)

Chapter 5: Reunion

Summary:

"Stevie, that you?" Bucky groans at the rasp of rough facial hair against bare skin, a soft lingering kiss being placed between his shoulder blades.

Notes:

Contents: Beards, tiny mentions of D/S. So very tiny. Like literally one sentence.

Rough cold hands against the bare curve of Bucky's spine jolt him out of his slumber. He feels the heavy solid weight of another body press down upon his own, naked and warm, wrapped in the soft sheets of Steve's bed. He'd caved and taken to sleeping in Steve's bed a week into his month-long mission with Natasha. Sneaking out the morning after proves to be a bit troublesome, but he welcomes the challenging burst of adrenaline and the exercise of scaling up three stories of gleaming glass back to his own floor. Besides, the incredibly intelligent talking computer is rather fond of him, so no one even suspects.

"Stevie, that you?" Bucky groans at the rasp of rough facial hair against bare skin, a soft lingering kiss being placed between his shoulder blades. Steve lets out a rough exhale and Bucky gets flipped over onto his back, his sleep-crusted eyes adjusting to the dark as he looks up at Steve.

"Hey." He murmurs softly and traces a warm palm against Steve's cool unshaven cheek, the lingering scent of blood, gunpowder and crisp mountain snow saturating the air around him.

Steve surprises him by taking both his hands and securing them over his head with one gloved hand, tearing off the other leather glove with his teeth and attacking Bucky's neck with biting kisses. Bucky's fully awake and panting now, aroused and suddenly desperate for Steve's touch. He arches up to the attention and spreads his naked thighs, allowing Steve to drive his uniform clad leg between them. He grinds shamelessly against the rough cold material, breath stuttering in his lungs at the heady shocks of pleasure.

Steve jerks his own pants open and pulls out his dick. He jacks a rough fist over his angry red erection and tears into the small packet of lube in his breast pocket with his teeth before lubing himself up. Bucky's own cock throbs painfully at the sight. Steve looks wild-eyed with desire, his lips red against the darker blond fuzz on his cheeks.

Bucky doesn't get more than two lubed fingers in his ass, scissoring impatiently, before Steve spreads his legs and bottoms out in one agonizingly deep thrust. Bucky moans at the sharp stretching burn, but he's had enough sex with Steve to know he can take it like a champ. Steve puts large hands around his bare hips, lifts his ass up for a better angle and drills back in so hard and deep that Bucky can almost taste him in the back of his throat.

Eyes watering from the sensation, he wraps his arms around Steve's neck and groans, trying to angle his hips away so Steve doesn't pound into his prostate every time he slides in. It's been a month with him gone, and Bucky hasn't really touched himself, choosing instead to vent off the extra energy by going down to the gym, sparring with Clint, and annoying the hell out of Tony Stark (also with Clint). But Steve's back now, and he's buried balls deep in Bucky's warm tight heat and he's going to come embarrassingly fast.

"Steve, stop, I’m gonna-" the words claw out of his throat in rough staccato bursts, the whole bed thumping softly against the back wall with Steve's hard thrusts. The thick coils of heat in his belly tighten unbearably. Bucky muffles his yelp of surprise against the lapel of Steve's uniform jacket when Steve wraps calloused fingers around him, swiping his thumb against the wet slit of his cock. Bucky comes undone with a shudder and a low whine in his throat, white stars exploding behind his eyelids and thick hot ropes of semen landing on his own heaving chest and Steve's clothes. Steve curses low in his throat and presses his forehead against Bucky's bare shoulder, his beard rasping against Bucky's sensitive skin. Steve follows him not long after, eyes fluttering shut and rhythm faltering as his orgasm rolls over him. He comes searing hot deep within Bucky's belly. He collapses over Bucky's chest and tucks his face into his neck with a contented sigh. Bucky lets out a long breath and kisses Steve's forehead, playing with the soft blond locks on his head.

“Welcome back, punk,” Bucky whispers quietly, brushing a wet kiss to Steve’s temple. “My man’s almost a hundred, and he’s still got the body and stamina of a twenty-year-old.”

Steve muffles his laughter against Bucky’s neck. “I am twenty something, jerk.”

“Hmm…” He agrees, sighing contentedly when Steve strips down to join him under the covers, one strong arm coming to wrap around his bare waist.

"I missed you," He whispers gently. "Russia's cold..."

"I told you to pack those fur-lined gloves before you left." Bucky murmurs back, settling his warm palms over Steve’s cool fingers and rubbing gently to get the blood going. They lay there in the darkness, still catching their breaths a little. Bucky rolls Steve onto his back and plasters his naked body along Steve's muscular form, pressing his face into the cool firm skin and breathing in Steve's scent. This close, Bucky can feel the slow solid beat of Steve's heart, strong and vital against his cheek. One of Steve's fingers slide down the smooth curve of his spine to rub at his hole, still loose and wet with Steve's come.

"Ready for round two, soldier?" Steve bites playfully at the tip of Bucky's ear.

He raises his head with a tired frown, “Are you fucking serious?"

Bucky's eyes flutter shut when a finger slips inside and circles his prostate. He bites his lips to stop the whimper from slipping out. Steve tugs his face close and kisses him hard, ravishes his mouth. He's hard and warm against Bucky's thigh again.

“Language,” Steve reminds gently. The fingers inside his ass press cruelly into that magic spot and Bucky can't help the breathless hiss of pleasure, body automatically clenching down on Steve's fingers.

“Have I ever told you that I hate you?” Bucky groans, biting down on Steve’s earlobe.

“Yup, every morning when you wake up,” Steve answers sweetly, his beard rubbing against Bucky's sensitive neck.

 

---

 

Bucky doesn’t get much sleep after that, because they somehow end up in the master bathroom, him seated on the gleaming marble top and Steve pressed in between his spread thighs, necking like a couple of 21st century teenagers.

“Three times, you came three times. It really is true then,” Steve whispers hotly into Bucky’s ear, reeling him in by the arm around his waist and aligning their bodies together.

“What’s true?” Bucky asks, dropping his chin atop Steve’s bare shoulder.

Steve chuckles, “That absence makes the heart fonder.”

“More like absence makes Steve Rogers hornier,” Bucky rolls his eyes and pinches his side, trying to keep his gruff uninterested demeanor up. If Steve finds out how aroused he is at the sight of his, well, facial hair, Bucky would never live it down.

Steve’s appearance has always been boyish, what with his baby blue eyes and golden blond hair, but now the neat beard covering the lower half of his face makes him look older, more authoritative and dominating, and it’s doing weird things to Bucky’s dick. Good things, but still-

“Buck, I think we should tell them,” Steve’s voice pulls him out of his fantasies. The blond man is watching him with quiet affection on his face.

“Tell who what?” Bucky asks, puzzled. Steve smooths his wild golden hair behind one ear.

“Natasha tried to set me up with the fourteenth date.” He admits.

“While you guys were in Russia? I thought you guys didn’t have any down-time.” Bucky slides off the counter and steps into the tub, turning on the hot spray and ducking under the water.

“Buck, you’ve been avoiding this talk since forever,” Steve sees through his bullshit faster than a chocolate truffle disappearing down Barton’s gullet.

“Avoiding what?” He slicks his wet hair back with both hands and turns to squint at Steve through wet lashes.

“I love you,” Steve says instead, his voice firm and certain. Bucky shudders a little when Steve cups his face with both hands, joining him under the spray. “How many times do I have to say it? It’s never going to be anyone else. Ever.”

He pulls away and turns to slick up his hair with shampoo, “I know.”

“Then why won’t you let me go public with our relationship?” Steve demands, hot hands settling on Bucky’s naked hips.

He doesn’t answer.

“Bucky, we’ve been together longer than 90% of the couples out there, and I want the world to know that, I want the media, the papers, and those stupid women’s magazines to stop thinking I would ever consider anyone but you,” The edge of anger in Steve's voice is more prominent now.

“Exactly,” Bucky sets his own hands over the ones on his skin, “we’ve been together for so long, we don’t need the public or a ring to prove that it’s real, Stevie.”

“That’s not the real reason,” Steve tightens his fingers in warning, rough beard scraping along his sensitive shoulder, “I know when you’re lying, Bucky.”

“Yeah?” He twists around and breathes into Steve’s ear, “what’re you going to do about it?”

Steve’s hands dig warning pinpricks of pain into Bucky’s hips, but he feels the tell-tale pressure of the other man’s hot erection against his thigh. He laughs softly against Steve’s cheek, brushing his nose against the rough hair on his face.

“Are you gonna punish me, Sir?” He whispers and feels Steve’s arms wrap around his waist like iron bands.

 

---

 

He always sneaks out of Captain America’s room before dawn, before everyone else wakes.

“There is no one awake at this hour. The elevators are empty, James.” JARVIS’s soft voice murmurs through the quiet darkness when Bucky’s got one leg off of the balcony.

“Does that mean what I think it means?” He cocks his head and squints up at the closest camera lens.

“I will take care of the video feed,” JARVIS clarifies, sounding almost sympathetic.

Maybe Stark had been right about JARVIS liking him above the other tenants. After all, the AI had never called anyone else by their first names despite their constant reminders, and JARVIS certainly never offered to fiddle with the surveillance for the others.

“Thanks, Jarvis.” He sneaks back in with a sheepish smile.

"It is not my place to say, but I believe Sir would be ecstatic if you ever choose to share the secret,” the AI suddenly speaks when Bucky slips into the empty elevator.

“I thought you said you’d stop monitoring us in the bathroom,” Bucky accuses, feeling betrayed.

“Procedures dictate that I only keep track of the sound feeds, in case of emergency,” JARVIS says cooly. “They are always permanently deleted within 12 hours.”

Bucky laughs, “I’ll say. Imagine Stark having a heart attack with his pants around his ankles, Game of Thrones style.”

“James, please refrain from fantasizing about the possible ways Sir might meet his demise.”

“Sorry, sorry. That was my bad. I’ll keep it to myself next time.” He chuckles and steps out of the elevator. The wall display reads 4:36 AM. Bucky veers toward his own balcony and slips outside, taking a deep breath of the cold chilly morning air. It is still dark, but he spots a lighter splash of lilac on the Manhattan skyline.

“Jarvis?”

“Yes, James.”

“Watch the sunrise with me?”

“Of course.”

Bucky curls up in a wicker chair, wrapped in the thick quilt blanket Sam Wilson go him last Christmas. It had come as a surprise when everyone found out that the Falcon was the king of knitting and arts-and-crafts.

“He’s always been like that. Sayin’ what he wants to say and wearing his heart on his sleeve, without a damn care about what the rest of the world thinks,” Bucky murmurs, breaking the silence.

“But you do,” JARVIS points out. Bucky yawns.

“Well, somebody’s gotta make sure he doesn’t end up dead in a ditch for opening his mouth.”

“You will find that the world is more accepting and tolerating of things now.” The AI’s words are gentle. “Sir would never allow harm to come to those he call friends.”

“I know Stark’s a rich badass, you don’t have to keep telling me, buddy,” Bucky laughs and exhales loudly, “I just, I don’t want anything to tarnish his reputation, because Goddammit, Steve Rogers is every bit as perfect as the stories say he is. And the world had better believe it. Me, I’m fine with being on the receiving end of all that verbal backlashing, hell, I’ve had worse things thrown at me.”

“Mister Stark’s PR team is one of the best-”

“Jarvis, what did I just say?”

“I apologize,” JARVIS says sheepishly.

“I know Stark and the others are trying their best to turn things around for me with the whole Winter Soldier joining the Avengers thing, but I almost lost him years ago, people in the army almost found out, you know, about us.” He gazes off into the distance with a sad little smile, “It scared the crap out of me and I told myself then that I was satisfied with what we had. I was gonna let my fella go off and marry a dame if that was what it took to keep his name clean. I was fine with the way things were, in secret I mean. Still am.”

“I understand,” the AI says politely.

Bucky closes his eyes and buries the tightness in his chest, “do you, Jarvis? Do you really?”

 

---

 

Saturday mornings are the official Avengers communal breakfast gatherings, aka the chance to steal free (and healthy!) food from Steve Rogers’s floor while the good captain served as their private cook.

Tony staggers out of the elevator, still half-asleep. The alluring scent of coffee and warm food becomes considerably stronger the closer he gets. Tony’s barely rounded the corner when warm muscular arms snake around his waist and a naked torso plasters against his front. Tony freezes in his tracks.

It’s Barnes, clad only in a pair of loose sweatpants, soft brown hair free-falling around his face as he clings to Tony.

“Nataliaaaaa…” The sleepy moan gets buried against Tony’s neck. He smells distractingly nice, Tony’s lizard brain notes.

“I’m over here, Princess.” Natasha snaps her fingers from where she’s perched on the kitchen counter next to Clint. Barnes yawns, pulls back to peer at Tony’s stunned face and shuffles away in her direction. They all watch in silence as he walks over, swaying a little along the way. Natasha spreads her legs and he inserts himself between them, dropping his face onto her shoulder. Natasha forks a piece of the fluffy scrambled eggs into her mouth as if nothing had happened. Bruce shrugs when Tony turns to him for an explanation.

Tony gapes for a while before his brain catches up with his eyes and notices the curious patches of red along James’s bare shoulders and back. The red marks disappear down the waistline of his loose sweatpants.

“You okay, Barnes? You’ve got some…rash on your back, dude.” He says out of courtesy.

“‘m fine,” comes the ex-Russian assassin’s muffled reply, “‘m probably just having an allergic reaction to semen.”

“Sorry, what was that last part?” Tony hasn’t had coffee yet, so his six senses still feel water-clogged.

“Said I’m allergic to cinnamon,” James says sleepily, lashes fluttering shut serenely as he turns his head and pillows his left cheek on Natasha’s soft breasts.

“Coffee and eggs, Tony?” Steve interrupts, beaming through his neatly-trimmed beard and his pink rhinestone-studded ‘Licensed to Grill’ apron.

Huh.

Tony’s zombified brain cells attempt to connect the dots. They fail.

“Yeah, thanks, Cap.” Tony tosses the question to the back of his mind and reaches for the cup of hot elixir.

Chapter 6: +1

Notes:

Well, boys and girls, this is the end.

1945, Germany

When Steve arrives at Colonel Philip's designated "office", which in fact is no more than a temporary tent made from thick geen tarp, he sees Bucky (no, he prefers Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes while on duty), slip out of the colonel's tent without a word, his face chalky pale. Sergeant Barnes avoids Steve's inquiring eyes and quickly brushes past him.

"Captain, come inside."

Steve doesn't get to chase after the sergeant to ask if he's alright, because Colonel Philip's voice echos out from within, sounding oddly flat. He lifts the heavy tent flap and slips inside.

It’s not much, Philip’s office. There’s a four-legged desk with peeling brown paint, a foldable chair with the colonel's thick uniform draped over the back, and a giant tactical map pinned to the wooden board next to his chair.

“Come over here, Captain.” Philips beckons, not looking up from a stack of papers on his desk. Steve does as he is told and comes to a stop a few feet away.

“You recall my telling you to refill the information on your draft registration card after you became captain?” He asks, still not looking up at Steve.

“Yes, Sir.” He answers, wondering what this is about.

Colonel Philip pulls out a familiar folded piece of paper and slides it across the table toward Steve.

“We were cataloging the files when Miss Pillsbury came made a mistake while copying the information. She’s been dismissed from the position and I have personally seen to it that the error be corrected.” He says, his head still bent over his papers. The colonel pulls out a blank registration card and finally meets Steve’s eyes for the first time. He doesn’t see disgust there, but the warm fatherly pride Steve had seen before is strangely absent.

“Refill the information.” He orders curtly, and Steve can hardly hear him over the rush of blood in his ears.

“Sir, I-” He tries to speak.

“There is no need to explain. Sergeant Barnes already told me about your family situation, or the lack of any. I expect you to correct the copying mistake. Dismissed.”

Steve doesn't move. He knows what name he'd wrote down in neat cursive letters in that column.

It hadn't been a mistake. At least not on his part.

In fact, it’s the only truth he knows in this world.

Philips sighs irritably, his mouth pulled down in a grim line as he looks up Steve with what seems like genuine pity in his eyes. “Under normal circumstances, I would give you a dishonorable discharge immediately, son. Those are the protocols, but this is World War II. All those men out there need something to look up to, they need faith in their country, and you are the living embodiment of that, Captain. This,” He flaps a hand at the form, mouth twisted in distaste, “they can never find out about.”

Steve swallows as he carefully picks up the piece of paper.

Colonel Philips exhales and goes back to his paperwork. “Bring a newly filled one by tomorrow afternoon. Dismissed.”

He does as he is told this time.

 

---

 

Steve finds Sergeant Barnes standing in a thicket of trees thirty-minutes walk from the main camp, a roughly rolled cigarette pinched between two shaky fingers as he takes pull after restless pull of the cheap grass.

“Buck,” He calls out uncertainly. Bucky’s head snaps up almost instantly. He tosses his cigarette and rounds on Steve. Steve doesn’t expect Bucky to sock him squarely in the jaw, but he does.

Steve stumbles a few steps back, clutching his face. It’s not so much the pain that does it, it’s the shock. He’s stunned stupid, because Steve can count the number of times Bucky’s ever raised a fist in his general direction on one hand.

“You idiot, you careless pig. You-” the sergeant is hopping mad as he drops punch after punch. Steve doesn’t try to dodge. He figures he deserves it.

“How can you possibly be that stupid, Rogers? How? Now Philips and the whole goddamn camp probably knows their great Captain America is a fucking fairy.” Bucky hisses at him, his eyes red-rimmed and furious as he grabs him by the front of his uniform. Steve feels an echoing rage rise within his own chest.

“How am I being stupid, Buck? I was only tellin’ the truth, s’all. I ain’t afraid to admit the truth,” He shouts back. Bucky swallows and takes a deep breath before reaching out an unsteady hand.

“Give it here, Rogers. I’m gonna burn that god-awful piece of paper and we’ll be done. It never happened.” He says in a low voice. Steve doesn’t move. Bucky shoves him and attempts to wrestle his draft registration form out of his pocket.

"What right do you got to take it away from me?” Steve demands hotly, an ugly flush crawling along his neck as he fights back.

Bucky drops him with a clever kick to the back of the knee and yanks the small slip of paper from his fingers. His best friend's lips twist in a bitter smile as he unfolds the piece of paper Steve had filled out four months ago when he'd officially became Captain America.

"Because you put my name down in the spouse column of your draft registration card." He says, voice trembling. "That's why. 'Cause according to your registration information, I'm your partner and your next of kin."

Steve swallows and averts his gaze as his shoulders slump. "I ain't got no one but you, Buck. You know that."

“Well, you won’t have me either if they find out about us, Steve.” Bucky glares. “They’ll charge you with sodomy and throw you in jail.”

“They’re not gonna,” Steve says after a depressing pause. “Philips told me to fill another form.” He peers up at Bucky with defeat in his face. “He sacked the poor woman who saw it.”

“Good. She deserved it.” Bucky says, his tone almost vicious as he tugs a distracted hand through his hair.

“How can you say that, Bucky? I cost an innocent girl her job.” Steve argues.

“It’s either that, or the lives of thousands of men fighting for our country, Captain America.” Bucky snarls back. “Philips did you a favor, and if you're so sorry for the gal, then it’s best to consider the consequences of your actions before you make them.”

"I don't give a damn about what those men think!” Steve blurts out hotly before he can stop himself.

"That's right, Rogers. You never did! And who do you think it hurts the most when you get beaten up for being a stubborn asshole? Who does it really punish when you act out?" Bucky's eyes are wet when he rounds on him. His voice cracks when he spits out the words in a tiny broken whisper.

"Me, Stevie. Me."

Steve’s heart clenches.

Bucky wipes at his face angrily, shoving Steve’s hands away when he attempts to comfort him.

“Don’t touch me. Just don’t, Steve.” Bucky says, and the words cut into Steve’s chest like shards of glass.

"I'm sorry.” He whispers, voice cracking as he cautiously gathers his best friend into his arms. Sergeant Barnes’s shoulders are shaking with silent sobs.

“Damn you and your stupid big heart, Steve. Damn you. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you,” Bucky pounds a frustrated fist into his chest, tears tracking down his flushed cheeks. Steve pulls him closer and presses their foreheads together.

“Bucky, please.” He doesn’t even know what he’s begging him for, but Bucky surges up against him and slots their mouths together, his teeth angrily sinking into Steve’s lower lip in a desperate kiss. Steve cups his cheeks and closes his eyes against the salty taste of Bucky’s tears and his own blood.

The kiss tastes like goodbye.

Bucky is the one who pulls away first, wiping furiously at his swollen lips and backing away, Steve’s draft registration form crumpled in one clenched fist. He gulps in a couple of deep breaths and wipes shakily at his face.

“It’s over, Steve. This thing between us, it can’t exist anymore. I’m going to destroy this piece of paper and forget about everything. I suggest you do the same, Captain,” He says, and Steve's heart breaks with every word, but his best friend just smiles wanly and turns to walk away.

“Bucky, please.” He says, but Sergeant Barnes does not look back.

After Bucky leaves, Steve slowly crumples down to the ground and buries his face in his hands.

 

---

 

At their next stop, Steve asks Peggy Carter for a dance while Bucky downs drink after drink at the bar.

One of the female secretaries is seen walking out of Bucky’s tent the next morning, her face simpering and smug. Steve bruises his knuckles so much he needs medical attention.

The team does not ask why their captain and sniper have suddenly stopped taking, but Steve has a feeling they are already aware of the reason. He knows he does not do a good job of hiding his plain affection for Bucky.

The Howling Commandos try to stop Zola's train in the Alps.

Bucky falls off the train.

Turns out, that kiss in the woods would be the last they’d share in seventy years.

 

---

 

Present

It’s a Saturday morning when Phil Coulson drops off Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes’s original WWII uniform at the tower. SHIELD had retrieved it a week ago from the abandoned Hydra headquarters in Russia where they’d turned him into the Winter Soldier.

“Do you really think this is a good idea, Tony?” Bruce asks worriedly when they all gather in the kitchen. “I mean, this could be a potential trigger for him.”

Tony stares down at the end of the torn left sleeve, the fabric a crusted brown, and swallows. “Umm, Cap’s got his old uniform back from the Smithsonian, I thought it might be a cool 100th birthday gift if Barnes got the same." 

"You meant well," Bruce tells him gently. "But I don't really think this is appropriate-"

“Damn, this is some fine craftsmanship for a sniper uniform.” Clint interrupts their little conversation. He's turning the uniform over and inspecting the hidden pockets with avid interest. Tony half shrugs and tries for a bright grin. Bruce sighs and takes off his reading glasses.

“You’re a horrible gift-giver, Tony,” Pepper says. Natasha wanders into the kitchen closely after her to see what the commotion was all about.

“Is that James’s old uniform?” Natasha asks as she sidles over to take the seat next to Clint. Pepper covers her mouth in horror when she sees the torn sleeve with the dried blood.

“Oh my God, Tony. This a horrible idea.” She hisses, latching onto his arm with a claw-like grip. He deflates under their combined disapproval.

“Hey, one of the pockets’s still got something,” Clint says suddenly, reaching inside the left breast side and unzipping a hidden pocket.

It’s a piece of wrinkled paper, folded into a neat square and crusted yellow with age. There’s dried blood on one corner, faded a dark brownish shade with age. Under everyone’s curious gaze, Clint carefully unfolds the piece of paper.

“What is it?” Tony asks when Clint’s eyes scan over the contents. The cheeky archer is silent for once as he hands it over to Natasha without a word. She peers down at it.

“It’s Steve’s draft registration form. From WWII.” She says, laying it gently onto the sleek granite counter.

Everyone takes their turn to look.

“Question,” Clint says, “Is it legal to write that back then?”

“No,” Bruce replies, his voice heavy.

They all fall silent, still staring down at Steve’s flowing cursive, mapping out that familiar name with each loving stroke of faded ink.

James Buchanan Barnes.

“You know, nothing has to change,” Pepper is the first to speak, her voice quiet. Tony reaches over and wraps a warm arm around her willowy waist.

“You’re right, nothing has to change.” To everyone’s surprise, Tony agrees, his expression solemn for a change. They nod, smiling faintly at one another like children chancing upon their parents’ secret stash of chocolates.

As one, they all turn toward the living room where Barnes is sprawled by the window, curled in the massive couch with the soft throw pillows that Tony loves so much. He’s thoroughly engrossed in the book propped on one raised knee, while his other hand, the human one, pets absently at the blond head pillowed on his torso. Steve’s face is happy and relaxed under the soft touch as he chatters on animatedly, not even minding in the slightest that Barnes is clearly not paying any attention. 

The morning sun casts the edges of their silhouette in gold.

Pepper smiles faintly and slips the small piece of paper back into the left breast pocket of James’s old sniper uniform.

Right over his heart all along, she thinks, threading her fingers through Tony’s.

 

---

 

Epilogue

Bucky raises his left hand, the metal plates of his ring finger shifting to reveal the thin band of polished gold. He admires the ring for a long moment before reaching down and trapping Steve’s wandering hand. The sight of the matching gold bands makes his stomach do a weird flip-flop.

It’s the good kind of weird.

“What’re you thinking, Buck?” Steve breathes the words against his bare shoulder.

“That twitter post was a bit too much, wasn’t it?” He asks, turning to grin at Steve. He shrugs innocently, but Bucky catches a flash of mischief in those baby blues.

Captain America’s official twitter account had posted a picture of their hands, pinkies hooked together and wearing matching rings, at exactly 11:59 PM on March 9th. The caption had read: Figure I’d get him while he’s still young. He said yes. #99forever

Suffice to say, Twitter had exploded.

Seconds later, Darcy had sent them a photo of Coulson, red-faced and too busy dabbing at his wet eyes to notice her taking the picture.

“I mean I was okay with the surprise proposal, but Bruce's fireworks, Clint and Natasha’s weather balloon, Stark’s armor flash mob? And please don’t get me started on Thor...” Bucky says as Steve brings their joined hands up to his face and presses a kiss to his knuckles. “Never figured you for such a sappy romantic.”

“Oh no, I didn’t do those things for you,” Steve shoots him a devious grin, eyebrows dancing on his forehead with pure glee, “I now have one million more followers than Tony.”

“Yes yes, the women adore you,” Bucky admits, shaking his head, “But there are others who…don’t.”

“You know I can’t win them all, and I don’t need to, as long as I have you,” The laughter is gone from Steve’s voice, replaced with that fierce determination and passion that Bucky had fallen in love with almost 80 years ago. He feels his cheeks heat up.

“Sweet Baby Jesus, I think I understand why so many people willingly hand over their young children to you," he mumbles resignedly. 

Steve’s hand is creeping steadily lower. “Like I said, I figured I’d make an honest man outta you while you’re still young and pretty as a picture.”

“Pretty as a picture?” Bucky can’t help the incredulous snort. Steve grins back, golden and happy as he presses a kiss to the faint laugh lines around Bucky’s blue eyes.

“You got a problem with that, jerk?” Steve’s arms tighten warningly around his waist, sharp teeth nipping teasingly at his earlobe.

“No, punk,” Bucky closes his eyes and relaxes back against the warm body behind him. “But I still think you overdid it with the Twitter thing. That picture you posted has been flashing on that mega screen in Times Square for the past two weeks.”

“We could always give them something even better to gossip about…” Steve winks suggestively. Bucky rolls his eyes but allows the creeping hand to wander between his thighs. Good Lord, he's unleashed a monster.

And they thought he was the pervert in the relationship.

They won't even know what hit them.

Notes:

Pepper framed Steve's draft registration and gave it to them as a wedding gift. Because she's awesome and likes to make souvenirs out of everything, such as old arc reactors and Hulk's torn undies.