Work Text:
Sam Wilson was no stranger to diplomatic meetings. He’d been an Avenger, and worked with Captain America -hell, he was Captain America now (that newfound truth had never stopped baffling him)- but dragging on semantics had never appealed to him. Get in, get the job done, get out. The praise and congratulatory wishes were all trivial, and not why he did his job, but he accepted them nonetheless. His mama didn’t raise him to be rude.
So, in driving to his childhood home after a grueling 8 hours of shaking hands with this emissary from God Knows Where, and that ambassador from Jesus Fucking Christ, he was beat. Most of all, he was ravenous and craving the satisfaction that probably only his mom’s old recipes could give. It was a Wednesday, so Sarah was sure to be home with his nephews, hopefully whipping something up to sedate his wanton need for a home-cooked meal in his goddamn stomach. His car engine choked and promptly died as it stopped in the driveway, along with his hope of being fed. Sam sighed.
His sister’s truck was not in the driveway.
Sam placed his head on his steering wheel, and the car gave a headache-inducing honk for as long as he kept it there. Today was just not his day. Removing his suit jacket and grabbing his keys, the weary man walked up to the front door and opened it expecting a silent house but finding some of the lights on in the hallway and kitchen. ' I swear to god if someone broke in they’re getting their ass handed to ‘em. Fuck being a hero, villianism looking real sexy right now.' However, instead of being met with a random face that he was already cracking his knuckles to put in a coma, he was pleasantly surprised by someone familiar.
“Buck!”
“Surprise.” The other man replied from his seat at the countertop, waving a few metallic fingers.
It had been a while since they’d been the White Wolf and Falcon together again, with Sam off trying to be the Symbol of Peace and Bucky chasing the coattails of the Power Broker alone (to Sam’s dismay.)
“Sarah said you’d probably come back up here after the meeting. How’d that go by the way?” Bucky scratched the back of his head, raising his flesh arm to do so, flexing it slightly. The early sunset rays coming through the kitchen window made him look unfairly good-looking, Sam noted. He also noted that Bucky was unusually on edge, fiddling with his hands and swinging his feet, the high chair made him look oddly small. Chuckling, Sam answered.
“It was, a meeting, and uh, mandatory. So, what are you doing here though?” He placed the suit jacket down on the countertop opposite where Bucky sat and leaned onto it, trying to look as natural as possible.
“I missed you.” The words are so blunt that they clip on the end of Bucky’s tongue, and Sam is taken aback before the intruder quickly continues.
“And I need to talk to you about something.”
“Oh?” He folded his arms, a smile creeping onto his features like an assassin, ignoring the roaring in his stomach. “Do tell, dear citizen. Captain America’s got time for all.” Amusement clear in his lilt, making the other shoot a small smile back at him. Bucky rolled his eyes and adjusted the flannel around his waist, eyes darting everywhere except Sam’s face. He rubbed his palms together, flesh against metal, and opened his mouth to start. Only to close it again a second later, and Sam could tell he was retreating back into himself.
“I-”
“Are you- oh.”
“Do you wanna spar?” He rushes out, finally holding Sam’s gaze. The other man goes to respond, before being promptly betrayed by his body. His stomach rivaled Mufasa at that moment, ready to get out and jump Bucky itself if it didn’t get sustenance.
“I would, but then you’d be responsible for killing the new Captain America within his first month from starvation. That wouldn’t look good Buck, especially with your...track record.” He snickered as the other man flipped him off.
“First off, fuck you. Second, the loser has to buy the winner food.” A mischievous glint Sam hadn’t seen in a while came back to life. How anyone could have ever denied Bucky anything was beyond him.
“Fine. I’m feeling Thai food tonight.” He replied smugly, knowing Sarah probably wouldn't be home for another few hours. This would be a piece of cake anyway.
★
Tie and belt removed and shirt unbuttoned, he and Bucky stood in his backyard like they did a few months ago. Memories of bickering and many shield hits to the face came rushing back, and Sam would be lying if he said he didn’t miss it. They’d laid the ground rules, whoever kept the other pinned for more than three seconds won the match, and consequently the food order.
“You gonna use the shield?”
“You gonna use your arm?” Sam raised an eyebrow.
“That’d be incapacitating me, Wilson. I thought you wanted a fair fight?” Bucky shot back, stretching his arms overhead.
“I’m up against a superhuman, ain’t nothing about this is fair. Unless you’re carrying extra super serum?” Sam left the shield near the wall as he got into position, he did want to fight fair after all. The other chuckled and then lowered his center of gravity.
Sam and Bucky had fought hundreds of times before, in training and in actual fights when they got too heated (hell they’d fought in the middle of fighting those with villainous intent.) He knew his way around Bucky’s body. Knew to duck when the other lunged for his chest, metal fingers grazing his neck, and knew to sweep at his ankle when Bucky leaned too far right when seizing for Sam’s side. For a hydra-trained operative, you really would expect better.
It wasn’t long before they made their way to the ground, grass cushioning the fall’s impact. Bucky's arms were both pinned neatly above his head, and Sam’s knee positioned expertly on his pelvis. The latter smiled, ready to claim his victory and finally get something in his stomach.
However, for as much as he knew Bucky’s body, Bucky knew his.Not even one second later he was flipped over, the back of his white dress shirt paying the price of their fight. Despite trying to struggle, Bucky was straddling his hips and keeping his arms spread outward and, damn, there was that superhuman strength.
“I won.” The most shit-eating grin a human could possibly have, found its way onto Bucky’s face.
“So you did.” Sam sighed, Thai would have to wait another day. “What do I have to fork my wallet over for this time?” He squinted, the sunset’s rays shining a little too bright around Bucky’s head, giving him a halo.
“Hmm?”
“What are you craving, Buck?” Sam sighed, immobilized. The older shifted, loosening his hold around Sam’s wrists before leaning down. His gaze softened, and Sam quite literally could not think straight.
It was barely heard over the thudding of his heart, but a soft whisper fell onto his ears before he felt something on his lips. “This.” Bucky moved his elbows to drop near Sam’s ears as he deepened what connected them, tongues pushing past lips. Kissing Bucky, Sam noted, was surprisingly cool in temperature. He also noted the fact that he was kissing Bucky back.
Oh god, he was kissing him back.
Sam’s fingers snaked their way into the other man’s fine black hair and tugged, finally getting Bucky to come up for air. Before Sam could get a word out, Bucky spoke.
“Dr. Raynor said I need to be more direct with my feelings about things. So. I like you. That’s what I came here to tell you.”
“And you kissed me.”
“So I did.” Bucky sat back on his knees, pulling on his metal fingers, still straddling Sam’s body between his thighs. “And you liked it.”
“So I did.” Sam replied, sitting up a little on his elbows. The sun had gone down behind the forest of trees on the west of the house, leaving the two to each other in the first slips of dusk, the sun having stopped its spectating.
The silence was comfortable, but pregnant. Bucky stared expectantly at Sam while the younger cleared his throat.
★
Things certainly had escalated from there.
From tripping over the shield to almost hitting several walls, (because neither of them wanted to remove their lips from the other’s) they finally made it to Sam’s room. It hadn’t been remodeled since he was a teenager, so Bucky had promptly taken to making fun of him for his collection of Dragon Ball Z action figures, only to be shut up with another kiss.
Most of their clothes shed onto the floor of his room before the two end up on Sam’s twin bed. This time Sam on top and Bucky beneath him, both of their muscly frames overcrowding the poor twin bed.
“You still hungry?” Bucky’s shit-eating grin made another rousing appearance and Sam groaned.
“Ravenous, actually.” He replied, despite the clawing hunger having disappeared, and been replaced with something that took a little more to satiate. Sam didn’t miss the dark look that passed in Bucky’s eyes, it hypnotized him. His gaze never left him.
“I think I’ll have to do as an appetizer then.” He chuckled nervously, eyes flitting from his dark skinny jeans and back up to Sam’s eyes in a split second. Sam quite easily got the memo, unzipping the jeans that sculpted the curve of Bucky’s ass perfectly. How did he even move in these, Sam thought, struggling to shimmy them off of Bucky’s rock-hard thighs.
“You’re more like a five-course meal, Buck.” Sam breathed, drinking in the body of the man beneath him. “How do you want to do this?” His hands traced over the scars of Bucky’s body, he was no stranger to the toils of war and recognized some of the scars reflected on his own body.
Using his strength, Bucky quickly maneuvered the two into quite the incriminating position. He sat, naked (boxers having come off with the skinny jeans from hell) on Sam’s chest, knees around his ribcage. Despite the small upturn of his lips, Bucky’s cheeks still held a faint dusting of pink and he couldn’t look at Sam’s face.“I haven’t, uh, done this in a while. So.” The older man put his hands together and pinched at the space between his thumb and index with his metal fingers.
“Hmm?”
“Just be patient with me, Wilson.” Bucky started, sounding small. Before he could continue, his worries melted away to the touch of large, dark hands gripping into the meat of his thighs. The hindering thoughts that bounced around his mind seemed to fade away. Rubbing circles into them, Sam sighs contentedly, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
They smiled in the comfortable silence as Bucky finally shuffled his way up to Sam’s face, only to stop again, precariousness wading onto his features.
“Someone deprived of a basic necessity will not be easily placated, Barnes. Pretty sure Shakespeare said it so it has to be true.” Sam teased gently as the flush on Bucky’s cheeks darkened. Tentatively, he let himself hover above Sam’s mouth.
“If you bite my ass, Sam, I swear to god-” His threat was cut off with a small moan as Sam took that time to leisurely lick a stripe from Bucky’s hole to the base of his balls. He pushed Bucky a little further down onto his face, using his hands to pull apart the older’s asscheeks in order to get a better view. Sam’s tongue made itself home along the creases of Bucky’s lower half, particularly around Bucky’s tight hole, which clenched whenever Sam’s tongue came near it. Smirking, he continued his ministrations there. Bucky, having long ago put his hands on the headboard, whined as Sam prodded with tongue and bucked his hips.
“For someone who spent 70 years in some ice, you don’t seem all that out of practice.” Sam commented, coming up for air. The man above him panted before promptly ignoring the jeer in favor of whining some more.
“Use your words Buck. Tell me what you want.”
“Keep going.” He gritted out. “Please.”
“Good boy. Was that so hard?” Sam would be lying if he said that he wasn’t enjoying pulling Bucky’s metaphorical (and physical) leg.
“Fuck you.” The retort didn’t hold much venom though, because not even a split second later another moan fought past Bucky’s lips, the older keeping his eyes closed in bliss and Sam began to work one finger into his spit-slick hole. The sensation was cold in contrast to the warmth of Sam’s mouth, due to the lube Sam had covered his finger with. Had he been so caught up in his own bliss that he didn’t notice Sam opening the bottle he got from the nightstand? Embarrassed at his own inattentiveness, Bucky opened his eyes only to be met immediately with a pair of hazel ones staring darkly right back at him.
Adding another finger, Sam continued lapping around the rim of Bucky’s hole like a man on the verge of dehydration. The temperature climbed, along with Bucky’s building orgasm. It was so hot right where they were connected, a warmth neither of them wanted to let go of. They continued like that, a fusion of hitching breaths and choked moans before Sam added a third finger, hitting Bucky’s prostate and forcing him to come undone and paint his abs with white. In throwing his head back, his vision went white, and heard some variation of Sam’s name howled almost inhumanely. The force of it rocked him, but Sam’s steady hand held him firm, like he always did. The Falcon is always flying, and has there ever been a time he’s let me fall? He thought, as the bounce of his hips finally slowed and his vision returned.
Sam let out a low whistle as Bucky shuffled numbly back onto the younger’s still-clothed lap, allowing Sam to sit up with his back against the headboard and get a proper view of Bucky’s body. “God fucking damn, that was hot.” Bucky mumbled a thank you as he slumped forward into Sam’s chest, wrapping his arms around his neck.
“Never would have pegged you for the clingy type.”
“Shut up.” Bucky kept his face pressed into the crook of Sam’s neck while the other set his arms on his waist, the whole thing disgustingly intimate. It was a while before Bucky shifted and felt something poke him on his thigh and- oh.
Sam was still hard.
Of course he was, it wasn’t like just watching Bucky would make him come untouched, but the older was still a little surprised. However, he grinned nonetheless, he had caused that and that was more than enough satisfaction.
“Oh I can take care of this Buck. You don’t have to-”
“I want to.” He answered, already pawing at the tent in Sam’s boxers, making the younger's breath hitch.
Sam’s boxers were promptly discarded somewhere in the room with his other clothes as he quickly put on the condom before Bucky lined himself up above Sam’s cock. Gradually, Bucky let himself sink down on the length that curved slightly when fully erect. A few moments later he bottomed out, letting out a moan of relief with ass fully seated on Sam’s lap. The younger watched him through half-lidded eyes and placed a hand on Bucky’s waist, keeping him steady.
“Has anyone ever told you how pretty you look when you take cock, Barnes?”
“Has anyone ever told you how pretty you look when you shut up, Wilson?”
“Touché.” Sam replied with a chuckle rumbling in his chest that became strained as Bucky gave a few experimental rolls of his hips. He smirked as he heard Sam gasp to catch his breath. This is going to be far too much fun, he thought, as he opened his mouth to snark about how his ass quite literally left Sam speechless. However, instead of spitting his smart comment, he was left a little bewildered as rough calloused hands grabbed his ass and lips soft as butter landed on his.
Leaning into their kiss, Bucky began to slide up and down on the younger’s cock, filling their kisses with half-finished whimpers and strangled syllables. He continued bobbing along Sam’s length as the younger made his way down Bucky’s neck, kissing, licking and nipping at whatever expanse of skin he could see. Sam’s hands grabbed everywhere, leaving every part of him feeling like he was on fucking fire. The heat choked him, eyes rolling back as he strangled to breathe with Sam’s lips and hands too close and too far from him at the same time. Sam began grunting as he shallowly thrust into the tight heat, and kissed his way back up to Bucky’s ears before letting his low vibrato fall onto half-listening ears.
“Come for me sweetheart.”
Bucky wailed, his red neglected cock spurting madly as Sam moaned his name in erratic thrusts, filling up the condom. They slowed, pulses roaring and chests heaving. Sam pulled Bucky into him and held the man tightly.
“I like you too.”
“Yeah, I kinda got that from the whole y’know, uh, sex thing.” Bucky chuckled, smiling into the crook of Sam’s neck.
“So, Thai food?”
