Chapter 1: You Picture Me
Summary:
DUBOUS CONSENT! Steve accuses Bucky of something, and Bucky copes in a rather…surprising way.
Notes:
bucky says doll in this chapter, and i see SO many people complain on tiktok that this is a mis characterization. i genuinely disagree. dolls, dames, these were words used at the time to describe beauty standards and women that men sought after. people seem to forget that bucky was a bit of a popular guy as painted in the first avenger movie.
the focus in catfa was obviously his friendship with steve, but he scored dates often, and was even able to score a double date with steve just because of his charm. bucky had a silver tongue, or whatever. flirting with women was something that came easy to him. i think people focus too much on post serum bucky, where he’s completely different when it comes to how he views literally anybody. but pre war? pre serum? bucky was a handsome guy who wasn’t afraid to flirt!! so please, give it a chance!
Chapter Text
It was just another day of Bucky coming home to Steve’s lone apartment going on about his date. The one detail he never failed to mention was her “beautiful blonde hair, and her body was so thin, very petite.” But, this was a common thing Steve had heard Bucky say a million times over. And the thing was, he always said it—without fail—AND without a second thought at the beautiful blonde with a skinny body standing in front of him.
“She was beautiful, Stevie—I mean, her hair was blonde, and she had that body you know I like,” Bucky rambled.
“Mhm, yeah,” Steve nodded along, twiddling his fingers as they stood moments away from each other by the entrance of Steve’s home.
“I mean, really Stevie- ya’ should’ve seen this doll dancin’ with me on the floor. We were the life of the—,” Bucky got interrupted.
“Yeah, I get it. You danced the night away while I stayed at home barely able to get out of bed,” Steve groaned and rolled his eyes, exclaiming his misery to Bucky as though it was a proclamation to envy.
“Steve, that’s not—,“ Bucky stammered.
“No, you’re right. It’s not fair. I’m sorry I lashed out,” Steve rubbed his eyes and took a sharp inhale, “there’s just so much that I want to do in this life that seems out of my hands and it always will be,” Steve’s sighs fell short into his breath, and his eyes carried weighing down to the floor.
“Buddy, there’s still time,” Bucky rested his hand on Steve’s shoulder, gazing down into his soft blue green eyes. They stared at each other a little longer than anticipated, but this was a common occurrence between these two. The longing, the tension. It was all there, undeniably, but words never came complimentary to the situation.
“Tell me more about your night. Do you think you’ll pursue this ‘gal?” Steve broke the silence by trying to engage in conversation he believed Bucky was passionate about.
“Ha, me? Pursue a dame? Steve, you know I can only manage flings,” his Brooklyn accent came seeping through. Bucky was notorious for going on dates with women, but he was also notorious for ending relationships with women. Everyone knew this, and Bucky wore it like a badge of honor. In reality, “validation” was a better word to describe his tendencies.
They both sat on the couch as Steve itched to inquire about Bucky having a type. As said, Steve’s heard Bucky go on and on about these skinny blonde women anytime he talked about a date, and Steve always wanted to make a joke, or bring it up given the irony of it all. Though, because of the nature of the joke and the times they were in, Steve was so scared of how it’d be received by Bucky.
“Your dame’s, will you ever go for a brunette one? Maybe even a red haired gal?” Steve sat up right as he glanced at Bucky. Bucky was amidst a sip of his coffee he stole from Steve’s kitchen and he couldn’t help but cough into it as he anticipated the implication of this question, and where it was going. His eyes swiftly gleamed over to Steve as he collected himself and forced a confused look on his face.
“How do you mean?” He attempted.
“I mean, they’re always prettied up blonde dolls with smaller frames and milk white skin. Is that what catches your eye?” Steve pressed.
“These gals just happen to like me. ‘M not always the one makin’ that first move, Stevie,” Bucky looked away, feeling repressed in his own truth. This honesty he battled, was one that would sink him and his reputation down. It was one that was dangerous for him, and for anyone he involved. From the moments he would think these things, he’d shove them way down before he could even conceptualize what they could mean. His truth was so deeply internalized that it represented itself as homophobia. He wasn’t an outward homophobe, but given the times, the general notion that gays were scum was something Bucky had openly adhered to in moments where he and Steve had observed such a thing.
Steve, on the other hand, had openly expressed that he feels bad for gays. But that’s as far as he could go before Bucky snapped at him saying he “doesn’t want to talk about this”. Steve was always afraid to tread into this territory from then on, but always had deep inquiries about Bucky and his intentions with the Steve-like-women he was always pining after. Which brings him back to…
“It just always sounds like you’re talkin’ about me until you say ‘her’ or some other pronoun that makes me remember what you’re on about,” Steve held his breath and looked down at his feet, sitting criss cross on his couch with an awkward breath of space between he and Buck.
It was quiet and time stood still.
“Is that what you think?” Bucky said sternly but quietly, cutting through the silence like a knife. His gaze met Steve’s lowered eyes. He sounded offended.
“It- It’s just something I’ve accidentally thought about, Buck,” Steve struggled to find words that could sway him away from the image of himself he just created—but he already crossed the line.
“Tell me, Steve. Do ya’ like that or somethin’? Do ya’ think about me dancin’ with yous? About me grabbin’ your waist? Do ya’ think like a fuckin’ queer?” Bucky tensed up, standing and looking down at Steve. He felt sick yelling at his best friend like this, but he felt sicker knowing what Steve had just said.
Steve had a sudden wave of confidence wash over him, in the intensity of this situation. He couldn’t believe Bucky’s audacity to yell at him like this, after all they’ve been through. He knew in his heart this question wasn’t coming from nothing—it’s been a thing since Bucky started seeing women, and that was back when they’d still call them girls ‘cause they were all still kids. Steve would remember those looks Bucky would give him, how he’d hear his heart skip a beat if the two accidentally touched one another—he wasn’t making this up. It’s always been a thing.
“YOU—have no right to talk to me like that!” Steve jumped up and met Bucky’s eyes, staring up at him with a breath of space between them. Bucky looked down angrily and held his furrowed brows and piercing glare.
“You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” Bucky said sternly and quietly, all in one breath.
“YES I DO,” Steve took another sharp breath before challenging his lungs with a fit of rage, “YOU PICTURE ME when you dance with them ! YOU PICTURE ME when you TOUCH THEM- when you KISS THEM- when you FU -,” Steve almost yelled a word Bucky hadn’t ever come to hear from him—and seeing Steve use all of his energy and then some just to prove a point sent shivers down his spine.
Bucky couldn’t bear to hear innocent Steve say such obscenities to his face. He threw his palm over Steve’s mouth before he finished that sentence and said ‘fuck’. Along with this gesture, he put his other hand onto Steve’s bony shoulder and began pushing him backwards until they slammed into the wall.
The two boys just stared at each other, panting in the silence and the aggressive tone of the space between them. Bucky moved his hand off of Steve’s mouth and placed it on his other shoulder, ultimately pinning Steve against the wall.
“Buck—you’re hurting me- you’re pushing too hard,” Steve panted in distress, pleading towards Bucky with his big blue green eyes. But, Bucky didn’t budge. He just stayed there, staring down at Steve…thinking.
“Buck, please—let go of me…,” Steve continued. He felt Bucky release his right hand from his shoulder. Thank god, he’s finally coming to his senses—right?
Instead of backing up from him like Steve thought he intended to do, he began to feel a tight grip on his waist—one that would leave marks. Steve looked down to see Bucky’s hand grabbing his thin waist, and he panicked, looking back up at Bucky, whose eyes were glued to Steve’s waist and how it looked with his hand squeezing it.
“Is this what you want?” Bucky whispered low and angry, as if his teeth were gridlocked.
“W- wait Buck- Bucky..?! Why are you touching me like that,” Steve asked hurriedly—disregarding Bucky’s question.
“Stop talking, doll,” Bucky muttered as his hand cupped Steve’s soft dick through his pants. Steve gasped. Bucky’s hand quickly moved up to Steve’s belt and unbuckled it. He ripped it out from the belt loops and Steve’s pants dropped to his feet. He wasn’t wearing any boxers—looks like he forgot to do his laundry.
“Buc—Bucky, wait—,” Steve felt exposed, violated. He wasn’t prepared for this. Bucky eyed his body, scanning him up and down. His eyes grew bigger and they brightened at the sight. He looked like a dog, a hungry dog. His eyes met Steve’s for a moment, Steve pleading with a nervous look on his face. Bucky didn’t care…he turned Steve around.
“Bucky- we should talk about this!” Steve whimpered in a defeated sigh against the wall, head turned to his side. He heard Bucky’s belt coming undone, the distinct clatter of the metal rings as they hit the wooden floorboards.
He couldn’t believe it. All this time, he was right, but Bucky’s truth was so deeply rooted within him that the only way he could communicate it was through aggression…angst…through pinning his best friend against a wall and touching him—right? He’s just touching him? He’s gonna stop, though…right? He’s just trying to teach Steve a lesson…
“Or was it…this?,” Bucky spoke sharply in Steve’s ear, hearing Bucky pull his finger out of his mouth. Before Steve could process it, he felt immense pressure at the entrance of his asshole—the most intimate part of his entire body. He shouted against the wall at the abrupt touch, realizing that Bucky had inserted just part of his middle finger into his asshole.
“Oh—my god—fuck!” Steve cried out, he didn’t know whether to give in or fight it. Truth is, he’s thought about this. This wasn’t foreign territory for him—he’s pictured it, without a doubt—he just didn’t imagine it happening as a coping mechanism for Bucky after being battered with potential queer allegations.
“There you go, sayin’ that word anyway—,” Bucky cleared his throat as he pushed his finger in further, surpassing his last knuckle. His finger was fitting snug up Steve’s asshole—it was warm, and kind of wet. Bucky began moving his finger around inside of Steve, his palm facing the ceiling and his other fingers caught up on and between Steve’s ass. Bucky was moving in a hooking motion, like he was searching for something. He watched Steve’s face twitch, his left eye was closed and his eyebrow squinting. These sounds escaping his pretty mouth were turning Bucky on.
Bucky glanced down at his own cock, buried in his boxers. He gasped at the realization that he was hard—like, really hard. He could see that precum already started drooling out of his tip, making a wet spot through the fabric. Bucky looked back up at Steve who was still taking his finger, blurting out an ‘ah! ah! ah!’ with every reset Bucky did inside of him.
Bucky looked down again, his brows were furrowed and his face felt hot—like he was surprised his body wanted this . Before he knew it…he pulled his finger out of Steve, who was left with a small but slightly gaping hole and it made him jump at the sudden gust of air pouring in.
“Fuck! What the fuck!” Steve cried out, trying to turn his body toward Bucky.
“I’m not done,” Bucky muttered underneath his breath, feeling the blood in his face wash out of him. He felt light headed, confused by his own actions as his left hand that was placed on Steve’s left shoulder pushed him back into the wall, resetting his grip.
“Steve, I’m sorry…—Stevie…,” Bucky leaned down into his ear, angry. Tears began to fork on his waterline, but he just kept moving. His voice sounded shaky—and the tears started rolling out. He was pushing himself against Steve and began to cry into his ear, head resting just above his shoulder.
Steve was looking the other way, and couldn’t comfortably maneuver towards Bucky—but he doubted Bucky wanted to look him in his eyes.
“I have to…Stevie—I have to,” his Brooklyn accent came on strong as he sniffled and squinted his eyes to push out his tears.
He stood back up straight , looking down to see he’d already taken his cock out of his boxers and he was there—sitting between Steve’s skinny ass. Bucky started stroking himself—and he felt so good. He threw his head back, gasping into the air before looking back down, pushing out any precum right onto Steve’s hole.
Bucky lined himself up with Steve and pushed himself into him, slowly. He didn’t know how to handle himself. He wanted to fuck him roughly so that he felt more manly about what he was doing, but this was Steve…his Stevie. It made him hesitate, it made him…careful? He listened as Steve groaned and whimpered with his dick slowly filling his ass. He wanted to be sure he wasn’t hurting him too bad…
“Jesus- Buck- B-b-Bucky- it feels like I-I’m ripping in two—,” Steve panted as his hands turned into fists against the wall, but he wasn’t fighting it. He wasn’t resisting…he was..acclimating?
“Shh, Stevie…I’m sorry…I have to go deeper,” Bucky said before he pushed himself all the way into Steve. Steve jerked and cried out before settling back down and exhaling shakily, in a way that conveyed pain. Bucky sensually rubbed his hands up and down Steve’s arms as his head rested on his shoulder, whispering “ I’m sorry ” and “ Stevie ” into his ear over and over—and then continued to thrust in and out of Steve, slowly…
Bucky had never felt this good in his life. Not with the dame’s, not with himself, not ever. He felt bliss. He had his eyes closed because he couldn’t bear the thought of being with a man, but in these couple thrusts, his eyes peeled open and he stared at Steve…Steve was right. He wanted to look at him.
Bucky could feel the ridges and waves inside of Steve’s asshole, how each wall had its own texture. It was overstimulating. His hips had a mind of their own, consistent slow thrusts, adhering to Steve’s tolerance.
“Mmmughh,” Steve whimpered.
“I’m sorry, Stevie,” Bucky was still crying, “I can’t stop,” he admitted, “I can’t fuckin’ stop!”
Steve could barely process the pressure in his asshole. He’d never had something so big pushing itself inside of him. He could feel hints of butterflies so low in his tummy on occasion, and he figured that’s what it may feel like if all of this pain wasn’t so prominent. The pain was overbearing. His moans and cries did not come from a place of pleasure.
It had already been a couple minutes of Bucky thrusting himself into Steve against the wall. The two of them pant and whimper and Steve winces of pain every other thrust. Steve could hear Bucky whispering ‘fuck’ in his seductive low voice, shaking every now and then.
But Bucky wanted more.
He pulled himself out slowly, hearing a big sigh of relief from Steve. He grabbed Steve’s arm firmly and aggressively pulled him to the bedroom—pushing Steve onto the bed. Bucky’s pants were still on just low enough to reveal his dick, but now it was time to take them off. He removed his shirt and pulled Steve’s t-shirt off too.
He crawled on top of Steve, and the two of them glared at each other, no words. Bucky leaned into Steve and stopped, hesitating as Steve’s eager eyes met his. Bucky continued, until his lips touched Steve’s. Before he knew it, his tongue was inside of Steve’s mouth. It was so wet, so slippery. Steve hadn’t ever kissed anybody before, but he followed Bucky’s lead. Their tongues were eagerly licking one another as their mouths occasionally fell into a kiss to gather themselves.
Bucky’s hand found its way onto Steve’s neck, squeezing lightly. His other hand ran through Steve’s hair until he gripped it tight. Steve didn’t know what to do with his hands. His body was so overstimulated, he couldn’t process where they even were. He didn’t realize they were grabbing onto each of Bucky’s arms, the muscle in his bicep. Steve was holding on for dear life!
Just as sudden as it started, Bucky stopped kissing Steve and pushed himself off until he was glaring down at him once again. Steve felt kind of threatened at Bucky’s erratic behavior and situational comfort.
Bucky took deep breaths and looked as if he were fighting tears before he sighed, “fuck…Steve,” though not seductively—rather full of guilt. He looked up to the ceiling, grabbing at his head, and took a very deep breath before he looked back down at Steve, who was also panting and looking at Bucky—brows furrowed and guard up. Bucky reached for Steve’s shoulders and quickly rolled him over, where Steve was now laying on his stomach.
Bucky felt better about this.
Bucky positioned himself over Steve, completely covering his smaller frame. He had put himself on Steve’s asshole once again, and wrapped his left arm around Steve’s neck, resting his left hand on Steve’s right shoulder. This felt controlled, and Bucky needed that.
Bucky did the same thing, pushing out any precum before he put it in. He knew this was painful, but he couldn’t help himself. Bucky rubbed his tip on the entrance before he pushed himself inside of Steve and went all the way in. Once he was balls deep, he began to pull out slowly, and then back in again—slowly. He was warming Steve up again, listening to the shakes in his voice that were likely not going to stop tonight.
“I…have to go faster,” Bucky said this with shame, like he was admitting to a crime. He gritted his teeth as he listened for Steve’s response.
“It—it hurts,” Steve said quietly, but Bucky heard him.
“I know, Stevie—I’m so…I’m sorry,” his eyes swelled up and immediately after, he began to pound him, in and out, over and over again. He grunted into Steve’s ear, and tears fell from his own eyes. But he didn’t stop.
“B-buck- ugh-oahhm ommy ggg-goddd…!!” Steve whimpered, hardly making sense of his words. He could barely contain himself. He never receives this much stimulation, let alone this kind of stimulation. His body generally can’t handle much given his immune system or lack thereof. But that didn’t matter, he couldn’t even pay attention to how he may feel after this. He felt threatened—but he’d never felt so close to Bucky.
Steve could feel the aggression from Bucky, a sense of power that he held over him. Bucky, who swore up and down that queers are such scum he’d rather not speak of them, was pounding him into his mattress. As this aggression for Bucky manifested…the tighter he’d squeeze Steve’s body, wrists and neck—he could feel the guilt seep through his fingertips…the shame was there. It was all over, but Bucky couldn’t bring himself to stop.
Bucky felt himself about to finish. He moved his right hand down by Steve’s waist and gripped it real tight, claws digging and all, before he released inside of Steve. Bucky was crying—an extreme release of emotion as he filled Steve to his brim, and pulled himself out of his body, rolling over onto his back and putting his hands to his face. He laid there like that, contemplating this reality.
How did their night come to this?
Chapter 2: This Can't Happen Again..Right?
Summary:
I'm sure the title implies enough.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Steve, on the other hand, laid there rolled slightly onto his side, where he could see Bucky going through every stage of guilt, and he couldn’t help but feel as though something had been…answered? He couldn’t explain it. It was just a feeling of closure—almost. He panted and caught his breath. As he stared at Buck, his eyes began to examine his own body, revealing the violation that had just occurred.
He was beat up. Not like the alley ways or the dock fights—no. He had bruises, his hips were scraped up, he had teeth marks along his arms, he was bleeding but he couldn’t tell from where. He didn’t even remember Bucky biting him…So much was happening—it was hard to process. He sat up and felt the discomfort of Bucky’s seed spill out of him. Steve wasn’t sure he could stand. He collapsed back down and let out a big groan of pain—the adrenaline was leaving his body.
“Ooouuuaaah-hhh-hhhh…ughhhh…,” Steve cried out.
This got Bucky’s attention. He slowly removed his hands from his eyes and began to sit up, blinking hardly to push out the tears that swelled on his waterline. He examined his hands, and then his used up cock that had some unmistakable blood on it. He turned his head left, looking at Steve. Bucky was gonna be sick.
Before he could do anything else, he quickly leaned off of the bed on his right and fell onto his knees—he threw up. “Oh my god? W-what did I do? What have I done?” He panicked to himself as his knees dug into the cold hard ground. He found it within himself to stand up and really look at Steve.
He couldn’t believe it. He moved closer to Steve, still naked and vulnerable, and put his hands around Steve’s face, cupping it gently.
“S-steve?—Stevie?” He hesitated at first, but at the second attempt, he found more confidence. His voice shook, like the voice of someone who had just stopped crying.
“Bucky… you hurt me ,” Steve said softly, eyes still closed.
Bucky couldn’t believe this. This complete and utter guilt he felt for a million different reasons. He just fucked a guy—like, he really fucked a man. His lips touched another man, his hands, his cock. I mean, he really couldn’t wrap his head around this. And? That man was his best friend. His best friend for life—and his best friend was laying there, in pain and discomfort because of something HE had done to him. He felt so guilty. He was man fucker and a horrible friend. He was a HORRIBLE person.
“I’m so sorry I-…I’m so…,” his voice trailed off with apologies, whispers and tears began to come out from him. He looked Steve up and down again, vulnerable and wounded on the side of the bed, and as he stood there at the edge, he scooped Steve up into his arms. Steve yelled out from pain at the sudden movement. Bucky winced at the shriek—so much guilt.
He carried Steve right into the bathroom, and laid him in the bathtub. He turned the faucet and let the water get warm before he plugged the drain. As the bathtub filled up, Bucky scrambled around for a washcloth and some soap, keeping an eye on Steve.
Finally, Bucky started to clean Steve. He gently scrubbed him with the washcloth, and bubbles began to float atop the water. Steve’s eyes were now open. His eyelids were hung low, but he could still see as Bucky carefully cleaned his body.
Bucky made his way to Steve’s face, where he had noticed for the first time that his eyes were open. The two stared at each other for a moment before Bucky reached his hands onto Steve’s face and wiped his cheeks with the soapy water, and then moved his hands into Steve’s hair, carefully cleaning him. He did this until he was satisfied with how Steve looked.
Now that Steve was clean, he took the wash cloth and stood up near the bathtub, and began to wipe his dick and everywhere necessary down, ridding himself of the blood and cum. He moved over to the mirror, where he put his palms in the sink and started to wash his mouth out with soap. Yes, soap. He scrubbed his teeth with the spare toothbrush. He scraped his tongue. He hurriedly did all of this while staring directly into his own eyes, full of guilt.
At this point, Steve was sitting upright in the tub, knees tucked towards his chest as he watched Bucky continue to lose his mind. Bucky broke eye contact with himself and met Steve’s eyes through the mirror after he had wiped his face with the dry cloth, essentially finishing what he was doing. He stared at Steve through the mirror for a moment before he turned around and walked over to him, pulling him out of the tub, unplugging the drain, and wrapping him in a towel.
The two walked back out into the bedroom silently. Bucky examined the bed for a moment before he aggressively tore the sheets off and threw them to the corner. He found his boxers and put them on, and then his pants. Bucky quickly cleaned up his puke, which he nearly forgot about.
He examined the room again, noticing how much darker it had gotten as they were in the later hours of the night at this point. Bucky turned to Steve who was just standing there looking at the balled up sheets with the towel around his waist.
“I’ll be in the kitchen,” Bucky said bluntly, breaking the silence that had been cast over the two of them for the last half an hour. He walked out of the room, leaving the door open.
Steve stood there alone, collecting all his thoughts. He didn’t know how to feel, let alone what to feel. He was so surprised at everything. The one thing he did know was that he didn’t feel guilty. He walked over to his closet and put on some fresh linens, baggy sleep pants and a white t-shirt. He also put on socks since his feet can get really cold and that can be bad for his health.
When he walked out to the kitchen, he came to see Bucky had turned on the warm yellow light that illuminated a fraction of the kitchen. Bucky was sitting at the table with a glass of rum and the bottle right next to him. He glanced over at Steve quickly before he looked away and took another sip.
“I thought you weren’t going to be out here when I came,” Steve admitted.
“I thought a lot of things,” Bucky sighed with a sense of dread attached to his voice.
Steve walked over to Bucky and took the glass from him. Bucky snapped his neck up to him, angrily before Steve, staring back at him, took a big gulp of the rum as well. Steve never drank—until today. Bucky just stared at him and sighed.
“Steve…we can’t—we can’t, uh—we can’t tell anyone about today,” Bucky hesitated, breaking eye contact with Steve.
“Why? Are you afraid people will think you raped me or that you’re just a queer? Which one’s scarier for you?” Steve said passive aggressively. No fucking shit they wouldn’t be telling anyone about this. Bucky’s uncertainty almost felt condescending, like Steve was stupid or something. So, he snapped back. But Bucky didn’t appreciate that.
“I’ll fuckin’ kill you,” Buck said in a controlled matter, angry but keeping his eyes to himself, running his hand over his face and pulling down at his cheeks while he stretched his jaw.
“After today, I wouldn’t put it past you,” Steve said before he set the glass down and walked into the living room, collapsing into the couch.
Bucky finished the glass and then walked out over to Steve. He sat down on the couch beside him, giving a reasonable amount of space between the two of them. They both sat in silence and Bucky put his fist in his mouth, biting hard at his knuckles. He was anxious.
“Can we talk about this without you getting mad at me, Bucky?” Steve asked, turning towards Bucky.
Bucky cleared his throat and wiped his knuckles onto his pants, “I think we have to,” Bucky said defeated.
“How do we start?” Steve had no idea.
“I’m sorry for what I did to you,” Bucky’s eyes welled up, “I’m sick with somethin’, Stevie…I couldn’t even look at you, and when I could, it made me feel like a lucky boy until I’d remember that you are a boy, and then that made me sick. I’m sick all around, ‘m not okay, Stevie,” Bucky rambled quickly and hesitantly, as tears began to fall from his eyes, “‘N I mean, look at you, I hurt you bad, real bad, and I couldn’t contain myself. You’re hurtin’ bad because of somethin’ I did to you, ‘m suppose to care for you, ‘m suppose to be your best friend, ‘n what I did to you was wrong ,” he kept rambling, fidgeting his hands together.
“Bucky, it’s okay,” Steve didn’t know what to say.
“But it isn’t okay, ‘cause I liked it Steve—hell, I loved it, I ain’t never felt so good before, and lookin’ at you now it’s like the only thing I want to do, but there’s somethin’ in me that knows it’s wrong ,” Bucky said more calmly, tears still falling from his eyes.
“Bucky…I,” he was at a loss.
“Didn’t I hurt you Stevie? It was blood, I saw, you were hurtin’ and you didn’t ask me to stop—why weren’t you asking me to stop!?” Bucky exclaimed in this moment of reflection.
“Would you have?” Steve spoke quietly.
Bucky gazed at him for what felt like a minute before he sighed, “I don’t know.”
“It hurt me real bad at first. But some point…? It started to feel good,” Steve scratched his head, “I’ve touched myself like that before,” he felt honest. Bucky heard his heart skip a beat when Steve admitted to it feeling good.
“I hurt you bad , Stevie. Look at yourself, I bit your arms and shoulder, I made you bleed. I bit your neck. I felt like I couldn’t control myself. It felt so good being inside of you like that, I ain’t never felt that with the dame’s,” Bucky felt increasingly comfortable talking about this with Steve.
“So, what does that mean? I mean, what does any of this mean,” Steve sighed and leaned further into the couch, putting his hands to his face and rubbing his eyes.
“This can’t never happen again, Stevie. This is the kind of thing that gets us killed,” Bucky shook his head and looked down.
“How can we pretend like this didn’t happen—I can’t promise you that, Bucky,” Steve replied, annoyed.
“‘Cause I ain’t a queer, Stevie. This isn’t my path. It might be yours but I ain’t getting caught up in this ,” Bucky moved further up onto the couch and laid back, sprawled out and manspreading while he stared at the ceiling.
Steve honestly couldn’t look away. Bucky looked good. His shirt was still off, and Steve looked intently at his body. He didn’t get this view before.
“How can you be sure?” Steve said bluntly. Bucky looked over to Steve.
“Sure of what?”
“How can you be sure you’re not queer ,” Steve moved on his side, facing Bucky.
“Well…I like women,” Bucky said unconvincingly.
“And if I tell you that I think I’ve liked men before, would you hurt me for it?” Steve was taking a risk.
“Don’t think I have it in me to hate you, Stevie,” Bucky said softly.
“Good, ‘cause then I’d really be alone in this world,” Steve wiped a tear from his cheek.
“So is that what you’re sayin’ then? That you’re queer?”
“I don’t think I like that word, Buck, but…yeah. I’ve always not been into dame’s like that, and today—well, today helped me really understand what goes on inside my head. I mean, I can’t even look at your body without…well maybe I should stop while I’m ahead,” Steve felt vulnerable.
“Without what?” Bucky pushed, hesitantly.
“Well, I don’t have the words…so maybe I’ll just–,” Steve began to pull himself over top of Bucky, legs on each side of him. He was basically sitting in his lap, looking down at him as he was elevated from the position. “How does this make you feel?”
“I-I don’t know,” Bucky gulped and examined Steve on his body. A minute passed of them sitting like this, awkward and hesitant—breathing heavily and analyzing each other’s faces. Bucky’s eyes kept trailing down, looking at Steve’s body sitting on top of him. Bucky made a conscious effort to keep his hands to himself.
“You may not be able to tell me…Bucky…but I can feel you right now,” Steve broke the silence, rolling his hips over Bucky’s groin, “I feel your dick, Bucky—you’re hard,” Steve said assertively–Bucky following with a sharp inhale.
“Steve—this just— this is the kind of thing that happens behind closed doors,” Bucky hesitated nervously, keeping his hands off of Steve’s body, balled into fists on the cushion.
“Our doors are closed,” Steve whispered, contemplating his next move. Their eyes kept an intense lock on one another, and Steve made up his mind. He leaned in to kiss Bucky—and he was scared, admittedly. So far, Bucky had been rough and aggressive, he only had one moment of calm before his guilty nature took over. So, Steve was nervous to see how this played out.
“Steve, I—,” Bucky said softly before Steve’s lips had shut him up. They began to kiss, awkwardly at first—like they were unsure. Bucky’s mouth hung open as shaky breaths escaped him, and Steve let him breathe while their heads pressed against each other. They kept at it, soft pecks as the two exchanged breaths of uncertainty.
Steve had never felt so emotional in his life. It’s like his world was becoming everything he never knew he wanted. He was in pain from earlier, and felt so turned on at the same time. He hadn’t ever kissed somebody like this—like there were new chemicals as their saliva mixed.
The kiss got deeper, and Bucky’s hands were on Steve’s waist now. He was playing with the waistband, slipping his fingers in gently while creating a new ecosystem between he and his best friend's mouths.
This continued for several minutes before Bucky pushed Steve off of his face and the two were now staring at one another with anxious but eager glares.
“We can’t do this again—what are we doing?!” Bucky whispered like he had something to hide.
“Bucky…please,” Steve pouted—almost. Like he was embarrassed, but he was just being honest.
Without any extra convincing, “won’t it hurt you?” Bucky asked almost endearingly.
“It won’t matter,” Steve whispered as he rolled off of Bucky for a moment to take off his pants. He got right back onto Bucky—who still had his pants on.
The two continued to glare at each other before Bucky pulled Steve’s shirt off. Steve could see the guilt in Bucky’s eyes. He thought about it—how he might resent him come tomorrow.
Steve was hovered enough for Bucky to reach down and undo his pants. He was able to pull out his dick, which was already rock hard and dripping with precum. Steve was looking down at it as Bucky stroked it, looking up towards Steve.
“I didn’t really get to see it last time,” Steve said astounded.
“I couldn’t look you in the eyes,” Bucky said softly as he blinked hard and looked down at his cock.
Steve had begun lowering himself to take advantage of the precum. It hurt, pushing himself down onto the tip. His asshole was worn out, raw almost. But he wasn’t new to this. Like he said, he’s played with himself before. Once the tip was fully in, it became easier to let himself fall onto Bucky—gravity was on his side. He watched Bucky’s face as it happened, how his eyes squinted and his brows furrowed, his mouth hung open. Steve couldn’t hold himself together any better. The pain and pleasure of it all—well it was unbearable.
“Oh my god,” Steve whimpered. He started to move himself up and down. Bucky felt eager, and he used his hands on Steve’s waist to guide him. The two started slowly, exchanging glares before Bucky pulled Steve into him and began to kiss him with passion.
Bucky’s hand had a fistful of Steve’s hair as the two rocked back and forth together. Bucky pulled Steve’s head back slightly until he was able to whisper in his ear.
“This can’t never happen again, okay Stevie?” Bucky said shakily, as Steve was actively taking him balls deep—and Steve kept panting–“okay Stevie?” Bucky said it a little louder, tightening his grip on Steve’s waist.
“Oh-ouh—okay…mmmnnhmm—Bu-ugh-ucky,” it almost felt like Steve was TRYING to tease Bucky. He moaned the entire reply and even said his name. Bucky almost climaxed right then and there.
“ I mean it ,” Bucky pleaded as he kissed Steve’s ear, trailing to his neck. He kissed the bite marks he had made prior. And then he began to suck on them. Steve’s skin was quickly turning purple. “ No one can know about this ,” he continued.
“Mmhmnn…,” Steve teased.
“No one can know how I take care of my best friend,” Okay, Bucky was teasing too now.
The two kept going for several minutes, kissing and panting, breathless moans and shaky inhales before Bucky couldn’t hold it anymore. He gripped Steve’s waist tight and leaned his head into Steve’s shoulder as he cried out in pleasure.
“I’m cumming, Stevie—I’m cu—oohhh my gggodddd,” he leaned back into the couch feeling his body pump out whatever he had left, leaving him drained. Steve stared at Bucky’s pinched face, where his lips were still in the shape of an ‘O’. Steve admired him…looking like this–he leaned down and kissed him on the lips, closing his parted ‘O’ face. Bucky kissed back, but he kept his eyes closed and his brows furrowed—like he was afraid to look at Steve.
Steve lifted himself off of Bucky and rolled onto the couch, his bottom half on the floor. In the moments after, they both continued to catch their breaths and take a minute to settle in what had just happened. Bucky eventually opened his eyes and felt as though it was his responsibility to clean this up. He got up and took a towel from the kitchen, and started to wipe himself down. He lifted Steve from off of the ground and laid him across the couch, ass up, so that he could wipe him down–Steve felt limp.
“Jesus Christ,” Bucky muttered as he cleaned up. Steve was basically passed out from exhaustion and the physical violation his body went through twice today. He lay there as Bucky cleaned him up, eyes closed and faintly conscious.
Once he was satisfied with the cleanliness, he made sure to note that Steve still had his socks on. Bucky put his pants back on and then crawled on top of Steve, wedging himself into the corner of the couch between the cushioned back and Steve.
He was cuddling him, keeping him warm. He felt guilty for everything. Bucky pulled the blanket that was draped over the couch onto him and Steve.
His arm wrapped tightly around Steve’s body. Steve felt warm, warmer than he has in a long time. Bucky was like a furnace. He snuggled up against Bucky, naked and vulnerable—but he felt safe.
The silence felt like a punishment, and Bucky was struggling to find comfort in it, but he didn’t have any words either. So…silence it was. He felt himself beginning to tear up, hot flashes in his cheeks, before the exhaustion had taken him off to sleep. Until tomorrow, peace prevailed.
Notes:
bucky and aftercare LMAOOO...
anyway.
homophobic bucky comes full send nxt chapter i think. yeah he indulges twice but just wait til he sleeps on it, wakes up and is in denial tenfold. idk when i'll post i'm gonna be inconsistent...sry stucky nation!!
Chapter 3: Let Time Pass
Summary:
Steve and Bucky cope in their own ways.
Notes:
SHORT chapter but come on…i need to add some more plot!!
Chapter Text
Steve woke up to sunlight seeping in through his living space window. It took him a moment to remember where he was and what had happened the last 12 hours. He quickly noticed that Bucky’s presence was missing, and there was a note on the coffee table with ink scribbled across it.
“Gone to the docks - Buck”
Steve sighed and began to stretch, relishing in the soreness of his entire body. He had put on his pants that still lay on the floor before he stood up and made his way to the kitchen—making some coffee and having some fruit for breakfast.
He wondered if Bucky was going to come back that day. He worked down at the docks most times, and would usually come home to Steve or occasionally stay at his family home where he’d take care of his parents. Bucky was unpredictable, and given the circumstances of the last 12 hours, Steve was genuinely nervous for what was to come.
He really couldn’t wrap his head around it himself. I mean, all this time of knowing Bucky for it all to lead up to this earthquake of a moment—this soul defining prominence. Steve felt butterflies in his stomach reminiscing about how Bucky touched him, how they kissed—how Bucky felt ashamed but that wasn’t enough to stop him.
It was so complicated.
Steve looked down at his hips, examining these marks Bucky imprinted onto him. It looked like they could scar, and the bruising around them was rather artistic. Steve nearly felt inspired to pick up his pen and paper again—start selling some pieces. He had been out of commission lately given his sickly condition, though if the last 12 hours taught him anything, he could withstand a lot more than he let on.
Steve wasted his day cleaning around the house and taking frequent endurance breaks, meanwhile Bucky…
Was down at the docks, helping move cargo off and on to ships. The boats he was working today weren’t so big, rather manageable to handle with the smaller dock crew today. Bucky kept to himself, quieter than usual and his buddies seemed to notice.
“Hey, James- ya seem quiet this day, huh? Cold gettin’ to ya?” This was Robbie, he was a talker who always found a way to include everybody.
“Just got a lot on my mind today, Robbie,” Bucky sighed and kept his eyes low.
“Hope nothin’ too bad,” he meant it.
“Don’t feel real enough yet for it to feel as bad as it is,” Bucky said mysteriously.
“Right on, brother,” Robbie laughed, patting Bucky’s shoulder in an endearing manner, signifying the relatability of Bucky’s statement—alluding regret.
The two fell back in their streamline of cargo movers, handing heavy sacks off to one another like a conveyor belt. This was the main part of the job, all day everyday. They did a bunch of other little things, like cleaning up and occasionally attempting some mechanics on the smaller boats. Bucky didn’t dislike this job, but his mind had been elsewhere all day.
He kept getting these gut punches of good nervousness when he’d think back to how it felt last night, and then that gut punch would turn into a throat punch—like he’d forgotten how to breathe for a moment. It was like this all day. He wasn’t sure who he’d go home to tonight.
After the day faded, Bucky was walking home before he realized he had walked to Steve’s apartment. It was like he had been on autopilot, and just came here out of innate desire.
Steve had just finished taking his bath when he heard the front door rattle. Quickly putting on his clothes, he decided to collapse into his now clean bed sheets and lay there, pretending to be asleep.
Bucky walked into the room quietly and immediately went to the bathroom, turning on the shower. Dock work was something nasty during the colder months.
After he cleaned himself up real good, he collapsed next to Steve on the clean sheets. Aside from last night, sleeping on the same bed together was never a weird dynamic between these two. They’d done it many times before, as Steve only has one bedroom since his folks passed and he moved here. They never minded and it never felt weird, rather a blessing to be able to afford housing like that given the times they lived in. A bulk of their childhood was during the great depression, and they swore to never take their luxuries for granted again.
Sooo, sharing a bed? It wasn’t weird, it was routine. The space between them felt larger than usual, and Bucky just laid there looking at the ceiling, fighting his urge to go outside for a smoke. He didn’t want to come back smelling of ashes and cause Steve’s lungs to act up.
“How was it down at the docks today?” Steve startled Bucky, who didn’t realize he was awake.
“Jesus, Steve!” He nearly laughed before the overwhelming dread washed over him. “Yeah, it was alright. Nothing out of the ordinary.”
“You sound drained,” Steve commented.
“Yeah, well, that wadn’t the docks,” Bucky sighed and pinched between his eyes on the bridge of his nose, attempting to relieve a headache.
“Right…well I’m feeling real sore today, thanks for asking. Was able to clean up a bit but not too much,” Steve said bitterly.
“I swear Steve, you never make things easy,” Bucky turned away from him and laid on his side, turning off the only lamp left on in the room.
The room got dark and cool, silence rang between the walls. Steve didn’t want to fight him, so he burrowed into the covers and let the dreams take him.
The next morning felt like deja vu, only it was in his bedroom this time. Bucky was gone with another note left behind. “Docks - B” Steve would crumble these up and toss them into one of his drawers. This went on for days, and days turned into weeks.
The two would hardly speak and Bucky couldn’t even look him in the eyes anymore. He’d come home late and then leave early in the morning. Steve felt miserable, and started drawing again. He’d draw Bucky, focusing his eyes and how warm they felt when the two embraced one another as close as people can get. He wanted that picture to last forever—so he’d just draw it.
These sketches helped him make a buck on the street, he’d sell his portraits and landscapes to anybody willing to buy, and boy was he budget friendly. Steve needed to do what he could—he’d always felt guilty about Bucky having to take care of him physically and financially. Bucky never seemed to mind, but it was a struggle Steve had within himself. He always felt that he was meant for more, but his circumstances were so dull and unsatisfying to what his heart felt capable of.
So, he adapted. He did what he could, and that’s the best you can do.
Steve thought Bucky putting time between the incident and them would help the two feel more comfortable around each other, but as the days dragged on, he began to feel frustrated. He couldn’t conceptualize how Bucky was able to avoid every single conversation about this. Literally. Steve had tried everything, and Bucky always found a way to shoot it down or just not say anything at all
This had to change.
Chapter 4: They're Just Favors...
Summary:
The freak is back on...! These two are finally dabbling in some foreplay.
Notes:
so sorry it's taken me a while to post. i was on a family vacation and OBLITERATED my left hand playing volleyball, bruised it so bad it was hard to type for a bit!!
Chapter Text
Steve was getting impatient. This wasn’t just about Bucky. It was him too, and he felt like Bucky was acting as if he was in this alone. So, sitting around and waiting wasn’t an option for Steve anymore. If you can do something to better a situation, just do it—Steve thought to himself.
Bucky came crashing down into the bed again after taking his routine shower, and Steve didn’t waste a minute.
“I think about us having sex everyday,” he said abruptly, with intent to shock Bucky. He may have tried everything, but bluntness? Not yet.
Bucky shot his eyes at Steve like they were weapons, “Jesus..Steve. You better keep that dirty mouth shut,” but there was nothing funny about it. Bucky had a deadpan look on his face, like any wrong word and he might let the wolf out.
“I mean it, Buck. I get hard thinking about it, and thinking about you. And I don’t know if you thought I’d get over it or something but you got it wrong, and I won’t ever forget about it. I hate that you won’t acknowledge it,” Steve sighed and cozied up into his pillow.
“I hate that you want to talk about it. Just reminds me you’re some queer ‘n that it’ll probably end up getting you killed,” Bucky sighed too, defeated in their reality.
“It might come down to that if I start going someplace else to get what I need,” Steve tensed up after these words escaped him. It felt like he didn’t even mean to say that.
Bucky angled himself further over towards Steve, with a harsh and concerned look on his face. “How do you mean?” except he knew exactly what he meant.
“Don’t make me say it,” Steve turned away, ashamed.
“You’d let some strange men touch you just because I won’t?” Bucky said disgustedly.
“Oh please, you can hardly look at me,” Steve rolled his eyes, “a touch from a strange man would be better than sharing a breath of space with you these last couple weeks,” it felt mean, but necessary.
“Jesus Christ, Steve, it’s like you want to get killed,” Bucky shook his head in pure frustration.
“I don’t want anything…I just need it. I’m not satisfied by myself, and ever since I got a taste of what touch can feel like..I just…I need more,” Steve was being serious, and Bucky could tell he was sexually frustrated.
“I don’t want you going out there and getting yourself into trouble, Stevie,” Bucky said sternly.
“I don’t have a choice anymore, Buck,” Steve pivoted.
“No, no, you’re being reckless-“
“Please, Buck. You don’t understand ‘cause somehow you’re able to pretend like nothing between us ever happened, but it’s all I can think about,” their voices began to raise and they were shifting their bodies at one another as it happened.
“I swear to god, Steve, you’ll end up getting hurt,”
“If that’s what it takes,”
“Stop it,”
“Why do you even care anyway?”
“I can’t have some random man touchin’ on you,”
“Okay, and if he’s not random? Yeah, let me take you two to dinner first so you can tell me whether or not you want him fucking my ass,” bluntness found its way into Steve’s mouth easily these days.
“NO! No, fucking Jesus Christ,” Bucky was shocked at Steve’s words, like a punch in the gut.
“Was it something I said?” Steve rolled his eyes and folded onto his back, giving up on the tension.
“I don’t want another man touching you,” Bucky said quietly.
“You act like it’s your choice,” Steve was over it.
“Steve, I won’t allow it,” Bucky said, turning towards Steve and reaching for his arm, “come here,” — he pulled Steve towards him.
“What are you doing?” Steve asked nervously. Bucky had pulled him into his lap, like Steve was sitting between his legs as the two both sat up against the bed frame.
“I don’t want another man touching you— it’s my job to take care of you, it’s what I do and what I’ve always done,” Bucky said as his hands trailed down to Steve’s boxers. He reached underneath the waistband and pulled his dick out.
“Oh wow,” Steve whispered as he quickly understood what Bucky was doing–he surrendered himself completely, letting Bucky take control. Bucky had wrapped his warm big hand around Steve’s average sized cock, and began to stroke him gently.
His grip was tight but respectful around his cock, starting slowly as Steve melted deeper against Bucky’s body.
“Bucky…I..,” Steve didn’t even know what he wanted to say, he was just surprised.
“Deep breaths, Stevie, this is to help you relax,” Bucky suggested in a way that justified his actions to himself. Whether he could say it out loud or not, Bucky wanted this.
He wanted to touch Steve, he wanted to share intimacy with him no matter the cost. No one else mattered. He just couldn’t find it within himself to say such things—let alone think it. So…he would stop thinking. Instead, he just let his body take the lead. Words would slip out in these moments of weakness, and he would say things that even he couldn’t believe.
“Does that feel good?” Bucky whispered into Steve’s ear. His head lay on Bucky’s chest and he could see as Bucky would dip his head down by his shoulder.
“Y-yes..I.,,” again, Steve couldn’t find the words. Bucky seemed to like his hesitation and overstimulation—with his free left hand, he wrapped his fingers along Steve’s chin and lifted his chin up towards him, now looking down at Steve’s eyes. Bucky held his head up like this.
“You’re so cute when you’re miserable,” Bucky said in a mocking way, trying to make Steve feel vulnerable and shy, “can you cum for me, Stevie?” Steve’s breaths were getting more and more labored. He couldn’t hold himself together. His hands were gripping the sheets as his eyes remained locked with Bucky’s.
“Mmnn..mhhaaa,” Steve was losing it. Bucky’s hand slid up onto Steve’s mouth and he started stroking him faster. This got intense. Steve’s body began to recoil forward, and Bucky kept himself wrapped around Steve comfortably, moving forward with him.
Bucky felt Steve’s hot cum dripping through his fingers, “good boy,” he whispered to Steve. Steve lay there in Bucky’s arms, panting at the release his tense body had felt.
Bucky analyzed the mess and just let Steve rest in his arms against his chest for a moment before doing anything else. He almost wanted to lick the cum up so as not to dirty another rag…but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. After a minute or two of letting Steve rest, Bucky swiftly got out from behind Steve and retrieved a rag from the bathroom. He wiped Steve down and then washed his hands.
Bucky washed his hands vigorously as he stared at himself in the mirror. His expression looked angry, like he had relapsed—done something he shouldn’t have.
Bucky walked back into the room to see Steve had taken off his soiled pants and was just laying down naked on his back. He sat up and met eyes with Bucky.
“Let me return the favor,” Steve said as Bucky collapsed against his pillows.
“No,”
“Please, Buck,” Steve crawled over towards Bucky until his head was above his crotch. He put his hand on top of Bucky’s dick—he could feel it pulsing through his boxers, “please…let me,” Steve kissed his dick through the fabric.
Bucky leaned back with a disgusted look on his face, eyes crooked and brows furrowed—but he hadn’t said anything. It looked like he was contemplating. Steve kept kissing his cock…
“Please…Buck..,” he’d say between each kiss. He did this as he slowly pulled his boxers down enough to pull out Bucky’s hard cock.
This was Steve’s first time seeing him up close. He couldn’t believe how big he actually was, and how he had been fully inside of him before. He had to be 7.5 inches…and thick.
Steve kissed the now exposed flesh, and Bucky flinched, gripping the sheets. He kept staring down at Steve, like he was eager but nervous to indulge. Steve teased him, touching the tip to his lips and kissing it softly. Bucky wasn’t saying anything.
Steve finally gave in, and slowly inserted his cock into his mouth, wrapping his wet lips perfectly around him. He went as far as he could before he choked and had to begin pulling it out. Steve began to suck his dick, bobbing his head up and down slowly. His arms reached up to Bucky’s hips and grabbed his sides.
Bucky was letting this happen despite every inking in his body fighting against it. He couldn’t believe how good this felt. Before he knew it, he saw his right hand going to run his fingers through Steve’s hair and guide his head through this process. His left hand grabbed Steve’s bicep and he began to squeeze him, tightly.
Steve continued to take Bucky’s cock in his mouth, gasping for breath between swallows. He would grip the bottom of Bucky’s shaft to hold him in place while he tried to slide Bucky down his throat, as far as he could go. Steve wanted to impress him—he wanted him to want this again. What he didn’t know was that Bucky already wanted this again, no matter what—but he’d never tell him that.
Bucky tightened his grip on Steve’s head, pulling his hair. He was following Steve’s lead, not pushing or pulling him—just letting his lips glide the way. Bucky felt unbelievable. It felt SO good—so good, he had to say something.
“Stevie…I think I’m going to cum,” Bucky expected Steve to take his mouth off of him, he was getting ready to jerk himself off to finish the way. Steve didn’t stop, though.
Instead, Steve started sucking faster, moving his hand along with his mouth as if it were a dance. Bucky sat up more, elbows holding him up staring down at Steve in disbelief. He couldn’t hold it anymore.
“Stev-Steve I-,” he began to cum, right into Steve’s mouth. What the hell is going on!? As soon as it started, he fell back into the bed releasing his arms and head from the tension of holding himself up. He completely collapsed, flinching as the cum pumped out of him.
When he stopped cumming, Bucky looked down at Steve. Steve let Bucky’s dick slide out of his mouth, and swallowed what Bucky had let release. Steve crawled up on top of Bucky.
The two looked each other in the eyes, and Steve didn’t hesitate—no. He just wanted to look at him first, before he made the embrace he had been anticipating. He leaned down to kiss Bucky, who was breathing shakily as Steve hovered over him.
Their lips sealed together at first, one soft and long kiss. Steve broke the kiss by lifting his head up and opening his eyes again to see Bucky—but Bucky didn’t waste time. He leaned up into Steve’s lips to continue the kiss—this time more sloppy. The two pushed and pulled at one another as their lips met and unmet, allowing space for breaths and tongues to slip through.
Bucky took it upon himself to sit all the way up, lining Steve’s spine and bony shoulder blades with his large rough hands. This gave Steve chills—on top of the ones he was already experiencing. He let out a gasp at the feel of Bucky’s touch.
This night wasn’t over yet.
Chapter 5: A New Perspective
Summary:
VERY lustful...they go crazyy!!
Notes:
this chapter feels short but i wanted it to just focus the smut...sryyy!!
Chapter Text
Bucky maneuvered Steve by grabbing his upper thighs that were spread on each side of him, and moved him to the side where Steve now sat on the bed and Bucky quickly filled the gap between his legs. Their lips remained in contact the entire shift—Steve could feel the desperation in Bucky’s movements.
Bucky situated himself on top of Steve—who had now sunken into the bed on his back, with his legs still spread and Bucky laying between them. The two continued to make out like this, Bucky’s half-hard cock laying across Steve’s stomach. One arm held the back of Steve’s head while the other caressed over his body, touching the parts of him that only he himself had touched up to this moment.
“Buc..are you-..sure?” Steve whispered between kisses.
“No,” Bucky’s voice shook, but he didn’t hesitate in his action.
With his right arm, he pulled Steve’s left leg up, hand behind his knee. Pausing the kisses for a moment, he looked down to the vaguely illuminated bed from the moon pouring through the window and lubed up Steve’s asshole with his spit. He began to stroke his cock, squeezing out any leftover cum before he desperately put the tip at his asshole.
Bucky made sure to lean back down on top of Steve and look him in the eyes as he entered his body. He went slow—listening to Steve’s breaths as each inch spilled inside of him. Bucky went in as far as he could go before beginning to pull himself out—slowly. He leaned down to continue kissing Steve, who reluctantly kissed back, as he had other things on his mind.
His gasps were loud—this angle was different. It felt unbelievable, Steve couldn’t wrap his head around all of the pressure. He felt like this was the deepest Bucky had ever been—and maybe it was just the circumstances of it all—Bucky chose to put him like this, facing his eyes while Steve surrendered beneath his body. Steve was in paradise.
Bucky redirected his kisses to Steve’s neck once he realized Steve wasn’t going to be able to focus enough for a kiss. As Bucky kissed his neck, his strides became slightly faster. His hips moved in a fluid motion, gently fucking Steve into the mattress. His hand was still holding Steve’s left leg up, and he began to squeeze him tightly.
Steve felt himself succumbing to the pain and pleasure of it all. Every time he thought he’d felt the best he could, something else would happen that would take everything up a notch.
“Do I feel good, Stevie?” Bucky panted shamelessly. He moved his right hand out from Steve’s leg and up to his face, grabbing his jaw and gripping it tightly. His left arm remained at his side in an L shape, holding him up comfortably as his hips thrust into Steve’s twink body.
“Yes, B-buck..,” Steve whispered in gasps that escaped from his tongue as Bucky reinvented his exit.
“Promise me you won’t tell anybody about this, Stevie,”
“I- I prom-ise…Buc,”
“Good boy,” Bucky kissed his lips and moved his hand from his jaw down to his throat, with a loose grip but tight enough for Steve to feel constrained.
Bucky kept pumping himself into Steve, their skin meeting at their groins, sticking together and peeling apart as the sweat fabricated. Bucky kept rocking himself into Steve. He felt like he could cum at any moment, but he willingly held back. He wanted this to last—he wasn’t just trying to get off—he wanted to feel like he was really having sex…with Steve.
“God..Stevi-,” Bucky said with a gasp. His asshole felt so good. He was tight, and so slippery—Bucky couldn’t conceptualize a better feeling.
“D-deeper,” Steve pleaded in a whisper. At this, Bucky felt shivers run down his spine—it felt like he just got harder—if that’s even possible.
“Careful what you wish for, Stevie,” Bucky slowed his pace as he said this. He had resituated his legs and moved Steve slightly til the two lay more comfortably. Bucky slowly pushed himself into Steve until his balls met his entrance. The slowness of it all made Steve cry out—though he was getting loud.
“Shh…,” Bucky said as he went in to kiss Steve, shushing him up. Their tongues escaped their mouths over and over as Bucky slowly began to pick up his pace again.
“Steve…” Bucky began to whisper in his ear, panting between each thrust.
“Bucky…” Steve whimpered.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this again,” it sounded like a confession—Steve could feel the guilt. Bucky had the tendency to introduce a little more pain whenever these waves of guilt would wash over him—his hand squeezed tighter around Steve’s neck as those words fell from his lips.
“B-b-let-g-“ Steve couldn’t utter a sentence until Bucky released his grip. He ran his hand through Steve’s blonde hair until he gripped onto a tuft of it on the back of his head. He pulled Steve’s head back so he was looking up higher—meeting Bucky’s eyes.
“You hurt me,” Steve said this as if it were a statement, not a comment. At this point, Bucky had hurt Steve during sex a lot—so this wasn’t an observation.
“I think I like to,” Bucky said deviantly as he broke eye contact to lean in for a kiss…or two.
The two continued kissing as Bucky took Steve’s right leg and pulled it up to squeeze his own body. Steve took the lead once he understood Bucky’s motion. He brought both legs around Bucky’s body, interlocking them above his back.
Bucky put both forearms on either side of Steve’s head and held them together to support him. Steve felt comfortable—he felt safe. He kissed Steve's forehead softly as his slow pace picked up faster. He was going hard. Bucky pounded Steve into the mattress so hard, he had to shimmy his palm to cover Steve’s mouth—because boy was he drawing attention.
Bucky didn’t stop, though. It just made him harder—IF THAT’S EVEN POSSIBLE. He kept going until he felt his cum leaking out of him. It started shooting out before he could even process his climax. Steve was shaking, and Bucky could feel his legs loosen their grip as his body twitched in overstimulated pleasure.
It felt like he was cumming for a minute before his own body relaxed overtop of Steve’s, who was panting with his eyes closed and his body limp. Bucky pulled himself out of Steve and remained hovering over top of him with his head in the pillow next to Steve’s head.
“Fuck…” Bucky sighed in a relaxed manner. He laid down sideways next to Steve, looking at his face. Steve opened his eyes to evaluate the shift in movement, turning his head to the right. He and Bucky made eye contact and stared at one another.
“What does this mean,” Steve broke the silence.
“Mm,” Bucky made a sound that Steve couldn’t decipher. Maybe he was thinking. Either way, he didn’t look away from Steve. He wasn’t shutting down.
“I could do this all day,” Steve said with a laugh to ease the unspoken tension. Bucky cracked a smile and a laugh escaped through his teeth.
“I wouldn’t do that to you,” Bucky remained with his eyes on Steve’s. It was endearing, his remark to a comment that was more than obviously a joke. Steve felt…butterflies? He felt protected.
“Does it feel like the dames, Buck?” Steve remembered the first time it happened, Bucky stated otherwise. But he wanted to hear him say it again. Bucky glared at him and cracked another smile before he said,
“Better,”—his hand reaching over to Steve, running his fingers through his hair. When his hand got to the back of Steve’s head, he pulled him closer so that the two could kiss. They did. The kisses were soft and delicate—driven from love, not lust.
Chapter 6: A Downward Spiral
Summary:
PEOPLE! We have more plot.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Let’s clean up,” Bucky whispered to Steve.
“Mhm,” Steve agreed.
At that, Bucky got off of the bed, scooping Steve up in his arms before walking the two of them to the bathroom. Bucky set Steve down in the bathtub. He turned on the faucet and let it get real warm before he plugged the drain. Bucky plucked a couple of leaves off of the eucalyptus plant that Steve keeps in his bathroom and placed them into the water.
He got in the tub, sitting behind Steve. The water filled up high before Steve leaned over and turned it off. The two laid together in the hot water, letting it ease their aching muscles. Bucky already started washing Steve with the soap, rubbing it across his shoulders and chest, despite half being in the water.
He washed him gently, scrubbed his scalp with a midas touch.
“Your skin is so soft, Steve,” Bucky spoke smoothly, floating through the calmness of the atmosphere.
“Your chest is so warm,” Steve responded.
“I don’t think I can pretend that this won’t happen again,” Bucky said in truth.
“How do you feel about that?” Steve asked, still leaning against his chest, facing the wall. As much as he wanted to analyze Bucky’s expressions, he thought giving him a moment to think without the pressure of his gaze was for the best.
“I honestly haven’t got a clue…how do you feel about it?” Bucky said in a sigh and cleared his throat before the question.
“Bucky, you won’t ever hear me complaining. I’d take anything you’d give me. Hugs, kisses, handjobs, sex—hell, I’d even take your hand in marriage,” Steve laughed to himself as his ramble got increasingly complicated. He knew Bucky might freak out at the thought, but he didn’t care anymore.
“Hm, don’t be ridiculous,” Bucky gave a half laugh before he spoke with uncertainty.
“Buck, I’m not messing with you. Don’t you get it?” Steve sat forward and turned his body enough to see Bucky’s face.
“Well what?” Bucky enticed.
“Obviously I like you—but these times ain’t in my favor in any way. I’m doomed in health, in work, and in love,” Steve was rambling again, eyes trailing the tile of the flooring.
“I don’t understand?” Bucky seemed genuinely lost. Steve looked him dead in the eyes and got on his knees, facing Bucky entirely. He put his hands on Bucky’s shoulders and said as directly as he could,
“I mean that if it was up to me, I would call you my boyfriend,” Steve patted his shoulder before letting go and standing up to get out of the tub, leaving Bucky in his stunned silence long enough to comprehend Steve’s perspective. He knew this kind of thing wasn’t something Bucky had ever thought about, despite his lustful tendencies. Really, he’s just been acting on compulsion—Bucky hasn’t taken the time to break it down and comprehend the meaning of it and why it’s happening.
Steve went back into the bedroom and removed the sheet, replacing it with a new one. He threw on some boxers and socks.
“Should really start laying down some towels,” he muttered to himself. Steve crawled into bed, exhausted. He fell asleep as he listened to Bucky shuffling around in the bathroom—draining the tub, brushing his teeth, cleaning up—it was all music to Steve’s ears, knowing Bucky was just behind the door.
Bucky came out of the bathroom, fresh and clean. He looked at Steve laying cozy in bed, and then he looked at the bedroom door. Bucky stood there, contemplating. He opened the dresser drawer to put on some clean boxers, and then he looked at the bed again. Bucky was fidgeting around—as if he was stalling. He kept making glances at the bed before finally deciding to get in it, next to Steve.
He did it quietly so as not to wake Steve up, who was obviously passed out at this point. Bucky looked up to the ceiling and squinted hard before opening his eyes and rolling onto his side, placing an arm over Steve. He pulled Steve into his chest tightly and made adjustments until he was the most relaxed he could be. At that, his eyes fell closed.
—
The sun spilled through Steve’s sheer curtains as his eyes blinked open. He felt warmth wrapped around him, much stiffer than a blanket. He couldn’t believe it as he realized Bucky was holding him while still fast asleep. Steve nearly cried at the embrace.
As he lay there fighting tears, the reality of everything found its way in. He wasn’t struggling with guilt like Bucky had been, he was struggling with frustration and envy—envy of women. Steve couldn’t fathom that he lived in a world where he wasn’t allowed to have what he was so confident he wanted. He was so distraught as the emotions rushed in that the tears won the fight.
Steve broke down crying, and he was loud. He almost sounded hysterical, and that woke Bucky up in an instant. Immediately, Bucky was concerned.
“W-what’s wrong?!” He frantically sat up looking down at Steve’s face with a panic. “Steve??” He shook his arm as Steve continued to cry and put his hands to his face.
“Steve?!”
Bucky sat him up and continued to fidget with his face trying to get him to stop—but nothing was working. Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve really tight in a last stitch effort to put pressure on his nervous system. He had positioned himself to sit behind Steve and his arms lay across his chest and stomach.
Steve’s crying began to slow as he caught his breath.
“Steve? Are you okay..?” Bucky said softly with a concerned tone in his voice.
“I-I…I’ll never be s-satisfied i-in th-this life,” Steve said with sharp breaths.
“Steve…” Bucky felt sick. Steve was right, this was unattainable. All of it. Bucky’s eyes began to swell but he kept it quiet.
“I’ll never be happy,” Steve sounded clearer now.
“You don’t know that,” Bucky sighed with a tear falling from his eye.
“I know it,” Steve pulled himself away from Bucky angrily, and stood up out of bed.
“Why are you being like this?” Bucky said surprised at his behavior.
“We shouldn’t keep doing this, Bucky, it’s so bad for me,” Steve cried as he paced around the room.
“Steve, this is coming out of nowhere!” Bucky seemed angry—and he began to feel that guilt again.
“It’s bad for me, Buck—I’m already attached,” Steve sighed while he quickly threw on his clothes, layering up with the intention to go outside, “this doesn’t have a happy ending,” he continued.
“What are you doing? Are you seriously going to walk away?”
“I need to clear my head,” Steve walked out of the bedroom and went to put his boots on. He laced them up and was out the door, just like that.
Bucky sat there in the bedroom with his face in his hands reflecting on what just happened. He felt angry, sad, frustrated, guilty—it was overwhelming.
Steve continued down his neighborhood, kicking rocks with his hands in his pockets and face buried in his coat collar. He tries not to go outside much during the winter, but he found himself engulfed in the beauty of a Brooklyn morning with snowfall and sunshine. Two opposing forces happening in harmony.
He walked down to the corner café and got a decaf black coffee—hot. He sipped on his coffee and analyzed the room. It had to be a little after 7:00 a.m. on a weekday, given how busy it was. Honestly, Steve had lost track of time. Bucky always worked random days, usually everyday. It was on his own accord, he’d show up at the docks whenever. So, Steve didn’t have an honest grasp of time based on Bucky’s schedule.
He watched as men hurried inside in their suits and long coats, collecting their daily dose of caffeine before heading into work. He also watched as women walked by the windows, likely on their way to their own jobs with a little less dependency on a substance to get them through the day. Steve’s eyes trailed until he met someone he knew.
“Aye! Steve!” The friendly voice walked over to him and sat at his small table.
“Hey Robbie!” Steve said excitedly. It was good to see a friendly face.
“What brings you out of that damn house?” He said with a laugh. Robbie’s known Steve and Bucky for years—so he’s aware of Steve’s health.
“Just wanted a taste of fresh air—how’s it down at the docks?” Steve wanted to catch up.
“Ah yeah, same old. I’m sure James tells you enough about it—except last night, someone did drop a crate into the bay and turns out—it was a wine crate! Boss was SO mad. Hey, that’s why we tell ‘em don’t come floatin’ in at midnight cause we can’t see shit!” Robbie was very animated in his story telling. When he told a story, his arms told it too.
“No way!” Steve laughed, and it felt good.
“Surprised James left early, seem like he got better places to be lately. You seen him recent?”
“He came over after his shift and crashed on my couch, which seems like his favorite pastime lately. Don’t think he much likes it at home.”
“That’s right—damn, I wish my best friend would let me stay at his place. WAY better than my sisters with her two kids!” The two continued to go back and forth sharing recent stories between one another. It was good for Steve to immerse himself back into reality. He missed this.
Bucky had cleaned up Steve’s apartment and contemplated going down to the docks. He had been working daily for weeks straight to try and take his mind off of Steve and the problems that he created—but today, he decided he was giving himself a day off. Instead of working, he wanted to be lazy.
He put on Steve’s radio and listened to the news stations as they went on about the war overseas. There was a lot of tension and Bucky kept hearing more and more everyday at the docks about another friend of a friend who’d enlisted. Bucky didn’t believe in war—he didn’t want to fight in one. He didn’t believe in killing. He understood the innate desire to protect, but he felt it unethical when combining life vs death.
He sat on the couch and laid out a deck of cards to play solitaire.
An hour or two dragged on before Bucky finally heard the sound of a key in the door handle. He turned to see Steve come in with a brown paper bag in his hand, shaking off the snow that had fallen on his golden hair.
“Wheew!!” Steve exclaimed. “SO damn cold. I always forget what that feels like,” he laughed.
“You okay?” Bucky didn’t know how to act. Was he still angry? It didn’t seem like it…
“Saw Robbie at the café—he’s talking some notion of a gal he wants to marry—Dorothy, I think? He ever mention her to you?” Steve fumbled around as he removed his winter clothing and settled back into his moderately warm home.
“Hah, yeah—he’s mentioned her. That’s good you saw him, he always asks me about you,” Bucky was still treading lightly.
“It was good to get out. Robbie noticed some marks on my neck, had to remind him I bruise easy,” Steve laughed some as he avoided eye contact with Bucky.
“Wait—let me see,” Bucky stood up and walked over to Steve who was making sure his shoes and coat were neatly tucked at the door before walking away. Steve tensed up as Bucky approached, still avoiding eye contact.
“Let me see your neck,” Bucky placed his hands around Steve’s face looking down at him, and moved his head upwards til his eyes were fixed on the ceiling. Steve seemed reluctant but he didn’t pull away.
Bucky’s left hand traced down his neck as he saw the discoloration across his throat.
“God Steve—I mean it looks like someone choked you, and Robbie ain’t askin’ more questions?!” Bucky seemed genuinely surprised at the bruising and how widespread it was.
“I had my jacket collar up, he only saw some,” Steve said as he grabbed Bucky’s wrists gently and pulled them off of his face. Steve wandered into the kitchen to snack on some nuts.
“God…” Bucky continued to himself as he made his way back to the couch.
“What have you been up to anyway?”
“Well, I cleaned up the apartment and then I decided I needed a break from the docks. From everything. So, I put on the radio and listened to how humankind still won’t get along with one another while I played with the deck of cards,” Bucky rambled.
“Robbie told me that Ennis enlisted,”
“It’s someone else we know everyday, I tell ya’. ‘N Steve, it’s no joke. It’s getting pretty serious out there. They’re talking about a draft,”
“Don’t think about it too much, Buck,” Steve knew how Bucky felt about warfare and how his thoughts could eat him alive. Despite the weird energy in the room, he still made his attempts to calm him.
“Yeah yeah…I’ll try,”
“The new year is nearly here. Robbie had to remind me, hah,” Steve giggled at his rather nonexistent concept of time.
“Gonna be ‘43 in like a week, no?” Bucky clarified.
“Just about. Isn’t that crazy? God- I’ll be 23 come September. And you’ll be 24 in three months!” Steve kept having epiphanies.
“24 and no wife, god—my mother’s gonna have a lot to say,”
“Hah, maybe the war will get you first,” this was friendly banter.
“You’re so dark, Steve,” Bucky laughed with Steve. It felt good to have some normal banter—it had been a while.
The day continued on with banter and co-cooking in the kitchen. This felt like an old fashioned hang out where nothing mattered except that the two of them were laughing together. Bucky did leave for a bit to check in on his family home, his parents and sister, but returned just in time to eat the dinner he and Steve spent all day trying to make.
After their shared dinner, Steve was exhausted and fell asleep quickly in his bed. Bucky was soon after—though this time, like old times, pillows were laid between them. It was Steve’s idea—he had done it without even saying a word about it. It was an unspoken act.
That next morning, Bucky had gone out to the docks rather early. Steve slept in, as his immune system was working overtime from his early morning stroll yesterday. He needed more rest if he wanted to avoid that awful cough he usually gets plagued with every winter.
This day played out similar to yesterday. Bucky came home and had dinner, and then the two went to sleep with pillows in between. It happened again, like this, for another night. And then another…and another. It wasn’t until this sixth night where things played out…differently.
Notes:
guyss don’t be afraid to leave comments!!! i hope i’m painting the picture of the plot well, i realize the smut has been the focal point LMAOO..
Chapter 7: Happy New Year
Summary:
DUBIOUS CONSENT chapter. I don’t want to say too much, just that this is a very NSFW chapter and there is dubious consent.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It was New Years Eve in Brooklyn, NY. 1942 was closing its chapter and the streets were filled with people. Steve partook in people watching on his porch this evening, spoke with his neighbors and was happy to stay home alone until Bucky came later—who said he’d be drinking with some buddies after the docks.
It wasn’t until a little after 11:00 p.m., which was real late for Steve, that he finally heard Bucky stumble in through the front door.
“SSSSTTTTTTTTEEEEEEVVVVIIIIEEEE!!!!” Oh god…he was drunk. Steve walked out of his bedroom to see Bucky undressing his layers and stumbling in the process.
“Jesus- Buck! How was it?” Steve laughed at him.
“Sooo good, so so good. I wish you’d have been able to come, Stevie. I missed ya’ alllll night—the boys didn’t hear the end of it,” Bucky rambled with slurred speech.
“Oh, I’m sure,” Steve couldn’t help but feel a little awkward. He’d always been sober, observing others in their inebriated behavior. But Bucky? He’d hardly seen Bucky get drunk like this. Tipsy, sure. Drunk? Not really.
“Steeevieee,” Bucky sang in a sing-song voice as he wandered into the kitchen eating bits and pieces of food he’d find, “mmm, soo hungry,” he continued.
“Bucky, maybe we should get you to bed,” Steve suggested.
“Bedd?? Noo no, I’m not even tired yet!” Bucky wandered over to Steve after feeling satisfied in the kitchen.
“Let’s dance,” Bucky shuffled around with Steve’s arms as he maneuvered drunkenly around the living space with the illusion of a dance. Steve laughed a bit as he let Bucky move him around.
“I misssss touchin’ YOU, Stevie,” Bucky exclaimed as his hands sporadically trailed down his arms and touched his shoulders.
“God—Buck,” Steve clicked his tongue in discomfort as Bucky got increasingly touchy, “maybe you shouldn’t be touching me like this,” Steve bowed his head.
“Mmm, maybe I oughta’ remind you why I should be touchin’ you like this,” Bucky said as his hands trailed down to Steve’s waist, pulling him in for a slow dance. Steve’s body fell limp. He kept himself standing but couldn’t help but feel…helpless.
Bucky gave Steve a spin before he picked him up and walked him into the bedroom.
“You keep talkin’ up a storm about me gettin’ in bed so why don’t we get in bed?” Bucky said as he put Steve down standing near the end of the bed.
“Bucky, don’t get the wrong idea,” Steve hesitated.
“Steve, I miss you,” Bucky sighed as he leaned in for a desperate kiss. Bucky kissed Steve’s closed mouth in a hurried manner. Steve pushed Bucky off of him.
“Bucky! You know what I said!” Steve was panting.
“What if we forget about it for a night? How about that?” Bucky slurred as his arms trailed down Steve’s back, grabbing at his waist.
“Please, Bucky…I just need to go to bed,” Steve continued trying to push Bucky off of him—but Bucky wasn’t having it.
“Ya’ need to go to bed?” Bucky asked before he turned Steve around and pushed him—belly first—onto the bed, “now you’re in bed.”
“Bucky—,” Steve didn’t know what to do as Bucky dropped his pants and lined his fingers along Steve's waistband of his sleep pants. Bucky began to slide them off of him while Steve sighed and planted his head into the mattress.
Bucky wrapped his hands around Steve’s thighs and pulled him up until he was on his knees with his ass in the air. When Bucky saw the arch in Steve back, his mouth hung slightly open and his thirst began to build. Steve’s arms were laid out on each side of his head to support this new position and his head was turned to his left, viewing the moonlight coming in through his blinds.
“Mmm…Steve, baby—you look so good like this,” Steve lay there, reluctantly succumbing to Bucky’s seduction.
“I don’t know about this,” he tried.
“Mm, I do…I’ve been cravin’ it,” Bucky felt Steve’s ass with his hands, running his left hand over his asshole. Bucky leaned in and kissed his soft pink hole a couple times before letting his tongue slip through.
“W-woah—Bucky!” Steve’s body jolted at the feeling, but Bucky gripped him tighter and pulled him back into place as he continued to lick his asshole. Steve was helpless—it felt good. Bucky’s warm and wet tongue kept sliding into his asshole and out of it, pausing to kiss him in between—he could hear Steve moaning quietly—and it was making him really hard. He bit Steve’s left ass cheek hard and sat up right.
“I need you,” Bucky whispered as he got onto the bed himself. He nudged Steve’s ass to move him forward enough to give him more space at the end of the bed. Steve crawled forward anxiously.
“Goddd…yes,” Bucky panted as he laid his cock between Steve’s ass cheeks. He spit directly onto his cock and began moving it back and forth on Steve’s hairless crack. His spit made it slippery, he was gliding between his cheeks preparing himself to enter. The precum kept leaking out, creating more lubrication.
“You want me, Stevie?” Bucky was so seductive—his voice low and smooth.
“M-maybe we should think about th-this…,” Steve panted in his soft stifled moans. Bucky licked his lips.
“Trust me, baby…I’ve thought about this,” his voice turned into a whisper.
Bucky kept gliding over Steve’s asshole until he brought his tip to the entrance, and then he began to push himself in—slowly. He watched as Steve’s body innately fell forward until he couldn’t go anywhere with his upper body buried into the mattress as far as it could go. Bucky followed this motion and kept pushing himself in until his balls kissed Steve’s.
“Mnmeuhh,” Steve cried out like he was in pain. Bucky’s hips began moving anyway.
“You okay, baby?” Bucky slurred despite his compulsion to keep going. Steve was gripping the sheets and clenching his jaw until Bucky’s voice rang in his ears. It made him forget the pain and the pressure for a moment, and remember who he was with.
“Mm, y—yes,” Steve muttered in muffled discomfort. He couldn’t help but keep thinking about the circumstances. He had set a boundary, and Bucky broke it while intoxicated. He didn’t know how to read this situation, and quite honestly, he couldn’t think about it either.
Bucky’s cock was buried in his asshole—it’s like Steve forgets how it feels every time. There was this spot about more than halfway up his ass that made him feel like he was microdosing an orgasm every time Bucky’s cock rubbed past it. It made him forget everything—like he was in some daze. His mouth began to hang open as his moans escaped and his eyes went crossed.
“Mmm—fuckk…Stevie, baby, I’ve missed you…mmmnn,” Bucky rambled out loud while his hands kept tracing over Steve’s lower back, ass, and thighs. He’d tighten his grip right at the bend of his hips going into his legs. This helped Bucky get better control of how deep he penetrated Steve with each stroke—and he liked going deep every time.
“You’re takin’ it so well, baby,” Bucky slurred. Steve couldn’t even believe how flustered he felt. Bucky was never this talkative—he hardly liked to acknowledge the sex WHILE they were having sex. This? This was something else—Steve almost hated to think that it takes Bucky being drunk out of his mind to talk to him like this—but before that thought could eat him alive, “mmnn baby, you feel me pulsing in you?”
“Mm—hm, B-buck,” Steve could barely get a word out.
“Say you like it, baby,” Bucky said softly.
“I—I,” Steve attempted.
“Tell me you like it,” Bucky sounded more demanding this time.
“I like it,” Steve panted—he was met with a hard thrust.
“Good boy…you feel sosoooso fuckin’ good, baby—fuck,” Bucky slurred—it almost sounded like he was tearing up.
“F-faster,” Steve cried out. Bucky took this like it was his mission. He sped up and pulled Steve’s thighs back more, putting his hand on Steve’s lower back to fix the positioning. Bucky leaned downward so he was angled more toward the mattress. He was gonna cum like this.
“God…Stevie,” Bucky could see how Steve’s pink asshole stretched around the width of his cock—he was so tight. Bucky didn’t know how he was taking him all the way. Where did his cock even go? Steve’s body was so skinny, Bucky could see his bones where they lay.
“You impress me, baby,” Bucky kept thrusting fully into Steve and then back out again, “fuckkk,” he muttered.
“Mmh—ugh—auhh,” Steve moaned after every thrust into him.
“Baby…Stevie…I’m holdin’ myself back,” Bucky rambled, “‘cause I’m wantin’ this to last…”
“Keep g-going!” Steve pleaded. He wasn’t done yet either.
“Anything for you, baby,” Bucky continued pushing himself into Steve, gripping his ass to hold him in place. He went in and out….in and out. Bucky moaned under his breath, softly but Steve could hear him.
“Mmnn,” Bucky moaned, “I missed you baby,” he continued. Steve liked it, hearing him talk like this.
“Yeah?” Steve panted back.
“Yes, baby…I’ve been needin’ you—yous all I been thinkin’ ‘bout…,” he slowed his strokes while he spoke to him, but he didn’t stop. Bucky was glaring down at Steve’s perfect face, which was turned to his left side. His eyes were closed and his mouth hung slightly agape, letting the moans slip through.
“You’re soo deep…,” Steve’s voice shook. Bucky was looking at him while he said this, and he couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“‘Mm gonna cum in you, baby,” Bucky panted, “you want me to cum in you?”
“Yes,” Steve panted.
“Yes what?” Bucky leaned forward and his hand trailed to the back of Steve’s neck and upper shoulder. He tightened his grip.
“Yes—Bucky!” Steve cried out. That spot was getting stimulated over and over again, it made Steve’s legs start shaking, like he was going to collapse as Bucky fucked him—and that’s exactly what happened. He fell forward onto his stomach into the bed, and Bucky followed, collapsing on top of him with his cock still buried in his ass. He kept fucking him into the mattress and Steve’s legs were still shaking.
Bucky had his arms laid beside Steve’s head to hold himself up as his hips pounded his ass.
“I’m cumming, baby—f-fuck, you feel that?” Bucky panted into Steve’s ear. His cum spilled out of him like someone had just unplugged a drain to a full bathtub. He pulled himself out and watched as the cum came out of Steve’s ass and continued to leak out of his dick, “My god…”
Steve turned over with an anxious look on his face. Bucky leaned back on his knees with his legs still spread as Steve’s legs were laying between him. The two stared at each other in tense silence as they caught their breaths.
“James,” Steve broke the silence.
“Steven,” Bucky squinted at Steve like he was bracing for what came next.
“You’re drunk,” Steve spoke quietly, “and you fucked me,” his voice was beginning to raise, “even when I told you that we can’t do this anymore,” rage filled his eyes.
“Stevie, I—,” he couldn’t get a word in before Steve sat all the way up and laid a slap across Bucky’s face. Hard. Bucky looked back at him like he had just struck a nerve—his eyes wide and his mouth agape.
He wasted no time before he lunged forward at Steve, grabbing his jaw and falling into the bed with him. Bucky was now on top of Steve pinning him to the bed with his hand still gripping Steve’s jaw.
“Steve,” Bucky said his name sternly.
“G-get off!” Steve struggled. The two wrestled but Bucky still kept his grip on Steve’s jaw.
“Steve,” he said again, “Steve…Steve, Steve,” he broke out crying as he repeated his name. Steve moved his right hand up to Bucky’s face and pushed him. Bucky used his right hand to grab his wrist and pin him to the bed again—he kept getting loose.
“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” Bucky panted, “don’t you fuckin…dare,” he repeated as tears swelled in his eyes.
“L-let go of me,” Steve started crying too, through his gritted teeth. His left hand was wrapped around Bucky’s wrist that was at his jaw.
“It’s not fuckin’ fair,” Bucky still continued crying, tightening his grip. His eyes were trailed off to the side of the pillow as he cried overtop Steve.
“Bucky!” Steve shouted into a cry.
“Steve…I,” Bucky’s eyes floated back over to Steve’s, and he stared at him for a moment before blinking slowly and leaning in to kiss him, despite the tears that still fell from his eyes. Bucky felt his lips fold over Steve’s top lip—he went in softly, shutting his eyes hard as it happened.
Steve started to kiss back, and his cries got heavier. He broke down as his lips connected with Bucky’s. He felt the warmth of Bucky’s lips, the stubble on his face. Their lips began parting and reconnecting, breaths of air and continuous repositioning on their lips. The realness of Bucky as a person existing right before him made him lose it.
He was real, and he couldn’t have him. So, he cried. He cried hard at their reality—the timing of everything couldn’t have been worse, and it felt like the end of the world for Steve. He kissed Bucky eagerly as his cries got louder with shaky breaths and more tears.
Bucky kept crying too, tears falling down onto Steve’s face—but neither of them stopped. Bucky realized how out of line he’d been, but what made him more emotional was how his body needed this. He was acting out of compulsion, and that felt good to him. He wanted to fuck Steve—it’s all he thought about all night. And the drunkenness just gave him an excuse, but he may have done it anyway—maybe a little nicer.
The kiss, though? The kiss was…not a compulsion. No, he weighed the pros and the cons of it as he stared into Steve’s eyes and then decided that he just wanted to kiss him—and that made him cry. Steve was a pure soul who only ever wanted to do good but was met with a limited set of abilities in this life and that hurt Bucky’s soul. He wanted to see Steve happy in life, he wanted to see him healthy—he wanted to see him love. But it was all impossible. Bucky didn’t know what this feeling was, but it consumed him. He wanted everything for Steve.
Their kiss continued as the two of them heard loud cheers and fireworks rumble outside. Bucky slowed the kisses enough to lift his head and whisper,
“Happy New Year,” he kissed Steve softly and slowly, continuing as he and Steve both calmed down from their emotional outbreak. Their tears blinked out and their breaths fell still.
Bucky put his palm to Steve’s chest to feel his heart rate had leveled out to a more normal pace, and then placed his hand on his own and felt the same thing. When he knew that they were both at peace, Bucky gave him a soft peck on the lips and then rolled off of him and laid on his side. He was looking at Steve, who had his head turned to his right as he lay on his back, looking at Bucky.
Bucky could see the moonlight reflecting in Steve’s eyes. At this moment, nothing mattered.
Notes:
i really liked writing this one guys LMAO..also i hardly have internet so this has been taking a while to figure out when to upload. i’m on a trip!! should have more posted this coming week but i’m also gonna be SO busy moving back into college. don’t worry, i’ll find the time cause i love writing this every night if i’m awake enough xx
Chapter 8: Moonlight
Summary:
Some feels & angst…kind of a short chapter!
Notes:
IVE BEEN BUSY moving back into college. i’m also re editing past chapters to add more details and i should be done with that by the end of this week. today is my last day moving back into my dorm which means i’ll finally be free and have some more time to rot in bed and pour my heart out
Chapter Text
They laid like this, staring for a moment—both naked and exposed, marinating in the soiled sheets.
“What are we going to do,” Bucky sounded defeated.
“Bucky…,” Steve sighed.
“Ain’t neither of us gonna be happy in this life,” Bucky reached over and put his palm on Steve’s cheek.
“You don’t know what you’re saying—you’re drunk,” Steve got scared at the tip of this conversation. What was Bucky implying? Sure, it’s no secret that they both like having sex with one another, but what about the other part? What about the feelings? Well…Steve didn’t know—seems like he was afraid to talk about it.
“Stevie…” Bucky replied, “I hope I remember this tomorrow…when I wake up,” he sighed. Bucky’s eyes closed—he couldn’t fight the alcohol anymore. Steve softly lifted Bucky’s hand off of his face, placing it onto the bed. He sat up and looked around, glaring down at his body.
He analyzed the marks on his hips and thighs—they looked like bruises. Steve stood up off of the bed and went to the bathroom, cleaning up his bum and relieving his bladder. He brushed his teeth and walked back into the room with a cloth.
He watched Bucky’s lungs inhale and exhale—exhaustion and alcohol really had him out like a light. Steve walked to the other side of the bed and began to carefully wipe down Bucky’s private area. He felt perverted, touching Bucky like that while he was asleep. He wondered if he’d wake up if he put it in his mouth. He shook his head roughly trying to push the thoughts away.
Steve put the cloth in his laundry basket and then threw a blanket over Bucky. He crawled back into the bed, avoiding the wet spot of Bucky’s spilled cum—and bundled up underneath the blankets until he felt warm. He was facing away from Bucky, otherwise he’d just keep staring at him thinking every possible thought. His eyes closed and fell asleep.
“Steve…,” Steve heard his name in his sleep, but it started sounding too real, “Steve…,” his left eye squinted open. Steve saw Bucky’s silhouette sat slightly upright looking at him with the moon illuminating behind him—it was still night time.
“God, Bucky? What time is it?” Steve groaned and rubbed his eyes.
“I think it’s 4:00?” Bucky whispered back.
“Why are you waking me?” Steve kept squinting at Bucky trying to adjust to the lighting.
“I woke up and took a leak, got back in bed, and I couldn’t stop lookin’ at you…you’re beautiful, you know that?” Bucky kept his voice low. Steve was stunned.
“Bucky…,” he didn’t know what to say.
“I just wanted to talk to you, it’s all I was thinkin’ of layin’ here looking at you. I like hearin’ you talk…Stevie,” Bucky continued.
“Are you still drunk?” Steve sat more upright, resting on his forearm.
“Not likely, I’d have called you ‘baby’ already,” Bucky gave a soft giggle to himself.
“Oh, so you remember?”
“Yes, baby…I remember,” Bucky giggled again. 4:00 a.m. was channeling some other kind of energy.
“It’s cold in here,” Steve changed the subject.
“It looks like we got some snowfall, heat is workin’ overtime. Let me hold you, I’ll keep you warm,” Bucky smiled—he meant it.
“Bucky…the last time you held me like that, I kind of lost my mind,” Steve hesitated.
“So, don’t lose it this time,”
“Yeah, right,” Steve laughed at his own expense.
“I mean it, Steve—it’s just us here. No one’s here to judge you or hurt you, I’m your best friend. Let me keep you warm, I’d do it regardless,” Bucky tried to be comforting.
“Okay…,” Steve pulled himself closer to Bucky, “how do you want me?” His big eyes looked up at Bucky’s.
“Right here,” he rolled onto his back and opened up his left arm, gesturing towards his chest, “on my chest,”—Steve took a gulp and laid his head on Bucky’s warm chest. He reached his left arm across Bucky’s body and laid it there.
“Wow,” Steve whispered. Bucky put his left arm back down onto Steve, pulling the blanket up higher and then placing his hand onto Steve’s left shoulder.
Steve felt the texture of Bucky’s skin on his chest, clean shaven and smooth.
“Why do you shave your chest, Buck?” Steve struggled to grow hair in places that weren’t his head given his genetic makeup and inherent illnesses, so he was curious.
“Honestly, Stevie—I never did til I touched your smooth body the first time. I liked how it felt, wanted to try it on me,” Bucky spoke with his eyes closed, moving his hand up to caress Steve’s head—massaging his scalp. Steve’s eyes immediately fell closed at the stimulation, but he kept moving his finger around on Bucky’s chest.
Steve was tracing his muscles, the abs that poked through.
“Your body feels unreal,” Steve said quietly.
“So does yours,” Bucky said with a grin.
“I mean your abs,” Steve giggled.
“Mhm, ‘n they’re all yours baby. Ain’t nobody else seein’ my body like this,” Bucky sounded confident.
“I wish I had a body like yours,” Steve sounded disappointed.
“Steve, your body is beautiful—it houses the very person I care about most in this world. Never forget that, you’re alive because of those skin and bones,” Bucky moved his hand back to Steve’s shoulder and squeezed him tight.
“Mhm…thank you, Buck—still, maybe one day I’ll have a body like yours,” Steve giggled again.
“Yeah? I’d like to see that,” Bucky enticed the idea, “but I’d like you however you come,” he rebutted.
“Bucky?”
“Yeah?”
“What if someone saw us like this,” Steve was in his thoughts again.
“Like what?” Bucky avoided the question.
“Like…this—like, intimately…,” Steve flattened his palm on Bucky’s chest and gently groped at his right peck.
“I’d rather not find out,” Bucky sighed as he traced his hand down Steve’s shoulder and upper arm, lightly touching his skin. It gave Steve chills.
“Mm,” Steve said in agreement.
“Steve?” Bucky sounded flat.
“Yeah?”
“I think, one day, this will be the death of me,” Bucky sighed as his eyes fixated into the dark abyss in front of him—his face fell still. Steve readjusted himself until he held himself up enough to see Bucky’s face.
“Why can’t you stay happy for more than 5 minutes at a time,” Steve sounded annoyed, “I mean, we’ll be having some kind of moment, and then you fall back into this horrible—dark state of mind and suddenly I feel like the elephant in the room that you can’t even look at,” Steve’s voice didn’t shake once. Bucky’s eyes trailed onto Steve’s.
“Steve—I’ll never stop looking at you,” his gaze felt soft, like he was defeated at Steve’s words but wouldn’t defend himself, “it’s not you that’s got me like this,” he sighed.
“I just wish you’d see the bigger picture,” Steve still remained looking at Bucky.
“The bigger picture is an impossible one,” Bucky sounded angry but kept his voice calm.
“Okay, if that’s too much for you then just look at the picture right now, at this moment,” Steve sighed. He was desperate for some kind of validation from Bucky.
“All I see is you,” Bucky put his hands around Steve’s face, framing him and holding him close.
“Isn’t that enough?” Steve sounded like he could cry. Bucky leaned in and kissed his lips, softly. He held their faces together for a long embrace before pulling apart and turning Steve on his side.
Bucky didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what he was thinking either, but a kiss? That felt…natural. He wasn’t sure how he meant it, I mean, kissing was a common occurrence between these two now. But all of this emotional tension? Bucky wasn’t sure why a kiss felt the most comfortable—if anything, it made the least sense. But he didn’t understand this part himself, anyway—and all of this worrying and questioning never got him anywhere but further down the rabbit hole that he believed he never dug.
Bucky wrapped himself up behind Steve as they laid down together, spooning. Bucky pulled Steve in real close, placing his right arm over his body and locking himself in by placing his hand around Steve’s neck, gently.
“I want to be held like this every night for the rest of my life,” Steve sighed as he succumbed to the warmth of Bucky’s body so perfectly wrapped behind him. Bucky didn’t say anything, but Steve felt him squeeze gently at his throat.
Finally, they fell back asleep.
Chapter 9: Bruised
Summary:
What happens when Steve comes home with bruises that Bucky didn’t make?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Steve woke to the sound of birds and Bucky moving behind him—he turned around and rubbed his eyes, taking a look at the clock hands that ticked over his door.
“It’s 9:30 and you’re not at the docks yet?” Steve groaned while he stretched.
“It was hard to get out of bed this morning,” Bucky giggled as he sat on the side of the bed, putting his socks on.
“I had this horrible dream, Bucky,” Steve’s dream hit him like a truck, and he felt the need to say something before it slipped away, as dreams do.
“Yeah? Go on then,” Bucky was curious.
“It was like…we woke up in a different lifetime? I don’t know how to explain the context, I don’t even think I understand it, but it was more so about the feeling of it. Like it felt so daunting, so horrible, like everything was twisted. When I woke up and turned around to see you as you are right now, god, I was just so relieved,” Steve rambled, and his voice shook with anxiety as he got into the story.
“Sounds like some bad juju, Stevie. Hope that doesn’t find its way to us,” Bucky buckled his belt and layered his linens, preparing for his day.
“Yeah. You better be careful down there today,” Steve always worried.
“Should be a slow one anyway, psshh, I’ll probably be the only one there. Guys unloadin’ their own ships, I’m sure,” Bucky giggled. He glanced over at Steve and smiled, “I’ll see ya when I’m home, but I’ll be stopping by my folks first,” his smile was warm.
“Yeah okay, Buck. Don’t be too long now, you know I’ll come looking for you,” Steve smiled back—the two held their gaze for a moment too long before Bucky finally looked away, walking out of the door and heading to work.
Steve went about his own business. He cleaned, like usual, he read the paper, he watched the snow fall, and he was bored. So, so bored. Today was a beautiful day, he figured he oughta go take a walk, maybe go to the cinema. And that’s exactly what he did.
Steve found his way into a theater, a nickel and a dime for some popcorn and a seat. He made sure to bundle up real well, this Brooklyn weather was no joke. He’d sat down in a row near the back, analyzing the half full room. Dates, small get togethers, loners—everyone was there. New Year’s Day consisted of people calling off work with hangovers and people finding ways to kill time—start the year off good.
During the film, Steve found it within himself to shush up a couple of bigger guys in the row in front of him. If he could hear their voices back here, he couldn’t imagine how their voices carried to those in front. Steve didn’t like these kinds of people, disrespectful bullies. They turned around and mocked him, shushing him too, and laughing while they did it.
Steve felt annoyed, and walked out of the theater. He couldn’t enjoy the film, so he best removed himself from the situation. As he wandered in the hall of the cinema, he noticed the two guys had walked out behind him. Steve was paranoid—he’s been in fights before. He kept his head down, trying to seem as though he hadn’t noticed their presence.
The two guys took it upon themselves to hurry up behind him, shoulder checking him into the men’s bathroom. Steve stumbled as he caught himself from falling on the floor.
“Really? Because I asked you to keep your voices down?” Steve fixed his jacket as he angled himself up towards these two men.
“We don’t take orders from men like you,” they snarled.
“Oh yeah? And what’s men like me?” Steve’s fists balled.
“The ones who look like pretty little girls,” they giggled and nudged each other, clearly impressed with themselves.
“Come on, calling me pretty just makes you sound like the lesser man,” Steve hit them where it hurt. Implying any kind of gayness was the quickest way to piss a man off, in this time.
“Oh boy, will you be regrettin’ that one,” the taller one said as he closed in on Steve, raising his fist. He brought it down swinging, and Steve fell over immediately from the impact. The two men began kicking him where he lay, giggling and talking down to him as it happened.
“Fuckin’ faggot, pretty boy. You probably like taking it up the ass,” one of the many lines Steve’s heard before, but not since he really did start taking it up the ass. It almost made him laugh, but the kicks snapped him back to reality as his ribs felt each strike from the snow boots. They finally stopped, preparing to walk off and leave him there before they heard some shuffling behind them.
“I can do this all day,” Steve panted with his fists in the air. Before the two had time to react, the door swung open with an employee standing there.
“We’ll need you guys to clear the room—you two? OUT,” his voice was stern, an older man who directed the instigators out of the building, leaving Steve alone in the bathroom. Steve had a minute to let the pain sink in. His body was already bruised from things he’d let Bucky do to him—or rather, Bucky took upon to do himself. But this? This was going to be something else.
Bucky was always super protective of Steve when it came to these bullies. He knew Steve had the will to stop them, but not the strength. So, he’d usually come back beat up. Steve was worried how quickly Bucky would notice this—he could already feel how painful it was to move his body to the side. Steve started on his way home, bundled up with a scarf wrapped all around his face.
Spilling into his home, the snow quickly began falling off of his boots. He stomped his shoes and tore his clothes off until he reached the bathroom, immediately washing his body. With all those layers he had on for the weather, it really stopped his skin from tearing. No open wounds. He reached up to his cheek, where the original punch had collided.
“Ah! Owee,” he groaned to himself. After he felt satisfied with his cleanliness, he analyzed himself in the mirror. His cheek was turning purple, and his ribs looked all kinds of discolored like some abstract painting. He looked closer, at his neck and upper arms, tracing the marks that Bucky had left on him.
He hated looking at these marks that weren’t left from Bucky. It felt…impure. Like he had soiled his body for Bucky. He felt ashamed. Before he knew it, he’d crawled back into bed with his boxers and a t- shirt on, to cover the damage. His eyes closed like he’d been waiting for this moment of recovery.
—
“Stevie?” Steve could feel a hand running through his hair, and his eyes slowly blinked open, “hey, Stevie, I’m home now and I brought a little bit of chicken pot pie for you to eat, we had at my folks. I have it in the fridge, you want any?” Bucky’s ocean eyes were so full of life, and Steve found himself mesmerized.
“I’m not hungry, Buck…but thank you,” Steve glanced at the clock, it was already 8:00 p.m.
“Of course,” he smiled.
“You already shower?” Steve asked as he observed Bucky’s damp hair and clean skin.
“Yes, and somehow I didn’t wake you,” Bucky giggled.
“Must’ve needed the sleep,” Steve gave a half smile, knowing full well he needed it.
“You never wear shirts to sleep, let me get you out of this one,” Bucky said as his hand slid under the white shirt, intentionally going slowly and caressing Steve’s skin.
“Mm, no, Buck. Keep it on,” Steve reacted like he had something to hide, pushing Bucky’s hand away. Bucky’s eyes immediately darted to Steve’s who was avoiding eye contact.
“What is it?” Bucky’s voice sounded demanding, and afraid.
“Buck, just forget about it,” Steve tried.
“Did someone hurt you?” Bucky’s been through this before.
“Buck…,” Steve sighed in defeat, “yes, but please don’t get mad,” his eyes started tearing up.
“Steve—,” Bucky seemed angry, and began shifting like he was ready to go find the person who hurt Steve.
“Bucky, just stay here with me. I don’t want to be alone,” Steve wrapped his hand around Bucky’s wrist, who was sitting on the side of the bed next to where Steve laid. Steve meant this, he didn’t want to be alone—he wanted Bucky with him. He also said this because he needed to tame Bucky and his urge to hurt some guys who hurt his Stevie.
“Okay…yeah, okay…,” Bucky collected himself, “let me assess the damage,” he stated as his hands went back to lift Steve’s shirt off, and Steve let him. Steve cried softly at the revelation—his skin was black and blue all over his right ribs. Bucky placed his hands on Steve’s body gently, tracing the bruising, “I hate that this isn’t a mark I made,” his voice droned.
Steve felt shivers run down his spine when Bucky said that. He’d thought about it earlier, despite never having discussed the marks as an important thing in their weird relationship—so it was oddly comforting to Steve that Bucky had thought the same thing.
“I hate it too, I’m sorry,” Steve’s eyes swelled.
“Don’t be, you didn’t do this,” Bucky pushed lightly on one of the bruises, watching Steve wince in pain.
“Ah! What did you do that for?” Steve looked up at Bucky.
“Just wanted to hear you whimper,” Bucky began giggling to himself.
“You- you make me- ugh,” Steve stuttered as his face flushed, hiding it in his palms. Bucky smiled and repositioned himself over top of Steve, where his head floated above his ribs. Bucky leaned in and kissed his bruised skin softly.
“I’ll make it better, baby,” Bucky whispered into Steve with a breath of space between his wet lips and Steve’s soft, sensitive skin. Steve tensed up as each kiss was planted onto his bruises. He could feel bursts of pain, and moments of sensibility trickling out of Bucky’s lips.
Bucky kept kissing his bruised skin, slowly making his way downwards—his lips began kissing the brim of Steve’s boxers—and they kept going…until his lips were planted on Steve’s soft dick. Bucky began to kiss him through his boxers. Each kiss made him harder, his precum seeping through the fabric, and Bucky’s spit dampening the cloth simultaneously.
“Let’s get these off,” Bucky whispered up towards Steve as his claws gripped the waistband, sliding them completely off of Steve. He wanted to take control of Steve in his pained vulnerability. Steve watched as Bucky planted his lips onto his bare skin surrounding his dick.
“Stevie - you’re so - soft,” Bucky said in between kisses to his skin. His lips trailed over to his balls, Bucky lifting his cock back to expose the pink flesh. He began to kiss him there, letting his tongue slip through. As he’d lift his head away, lines of spit would follow—his saliva was building. He licked the saliva all the way up to Steve’s tip.
“Oh…my god!” Steve nearly cried—he hadn’t ever been touched like this here before. It made him squirm and twitch as Bucky’s tongue reached the tip and closed his mouth on top of Steve without a second thought. Bucky liked this—Steve losing his mind. His head began bobbing up and down as Steve acclimated to the sensitivity of it all. He threw his head back onto the pillow and gripped the sheets, knuckles turning white.
“Gg-guh,” Bucky was gagging on Steve’s cock, and Steve couldn’t believe it. Bucky deliberately put himself in this situation, taking his cock into the back of his throat—Steve didn’t even beg him. He could not believe it! He lifted his head, staring at Bucky wide-eyed, mouth agape. His breaths were heavy, watching Bucky take him all the way in and out of his throat.
“B-bucky…I-,” Steve’s brows were furrowed and his legs were tense. Bucky could feel his muscles gaining tension as his hands were gripping his thighs. Bucky knew he was already going to cum, and he wanted him to. He wanted to put his mouth somewhere else, and he was eager.
Steve began cumming, his body convulsing into Bucky’s mouth. He watched as Bucky gripped onto him tighter at his hips, locking him in place as he emptied his load down his throat. Steve’s body stopped twitching and calmed down in a matter of a minute, and that’s when Bucky let his cock fall from his mouth.
Looking up towards Steve, Bucky gave a soft smile with his lips parted.
“That’s my good boy,” he kissed Steve’s softening cock a few times, delicately. The spit carried itself between kisses. Steve felt shivers run up his spine whenever Bucky called him names like that. Baby, good boy? It made him…horny. He liked it, it reinforced their dynamic together. Bucky had an aggressive attitude, a more dominant aura. Steve was a small, sick boy, and he liked it when Bucky reminded him of that—even though it was his burden in this world.
“I like it…when you call me that,” Steve admitted.
“I can tell,” Bucky giggled.
“I’ve never had someone’s mouth on me there before,” Steve added.
“I know,” Bucky kissed around Steve’s groin, his hips and slight inner thighs as he spoke between, “and you’ll never have anyone else’s mouth there,” Bucky nipped at Steve’s skin.
“Mmm,” Steve groaned.
“I want you to turn around,” Bucky spoke softly, gaze meeting Steve’s eyes as he still hovered over his soft cock.
“Bucky, I don’t know if I can take it tonight,” Steve’s breath got shorter, like he was going to panic.
“I’m not going to fuck you,” Bucky said abruptly.
“What are you going to do,” Steve was nervous.
“I’ve put your tight asshole through so much, I want to say sorry,” Bucky smirked and bit his bottom lip as a chuckle slipped through.
“You’ve put my whole body through so much,” Steve laughed. Bucky joined him, and started turning him over in the process. Steve braced himself. Bucky had kissed him there before, but it was brief. This time? It’s all Bucky wanted to do. That was the purpose—the focus.
Bucky began to spread apart Steve’s cheeks, analyzing his asshole.
“It amazes me that I can bury my whole cock in here, Stevie,” Bucky noted.
“I can’t imagine the view,” Steve replied with his head turned towards the window, planted into the mattress.
“Your asshole is so tight. Your skin is so pink, so pretty. I love seeing you stretched out around my cock…fuck…I’m getting ahead of myself,” Bucky didn’t even realize he’d been saying this outloud. He ran his thumb over Steve’s hole and watched his body twitch, tensing up at the sudden touch.
Bucky leaned down and began kissing around Steve’s hole, softly. He finally kissed Steve’s hole, and he kept repeating this kiss for a long moment. It was slow, and intimate—until his lips parted. He began to introduce his tongue, letting it get familiar with the taste of Steve’s sensitive skin there. He heard Steve’s soft moans and could feel his body adjusting further into the mattress, tensing up as each lick ensued.
Bucky kept licking him and kissing him, feeling him squirm through it all. He did this for a while until Steve’s legs were shaking from the sensation. Steve could feel the tingling sensation so deep in his asshole, as if it was connected to that spot he’d feel Bucky’s cock run up against. It had to be connected, because ohh.. oh- ouhHH!—
“OH MY GODDD!!!” Steve cried out as his legs shook with adrenaline and pleasure. Bucky kept his mouth glued onto Steve’s asshole, helping him get through it. He pulled back a little, receptive to the uptake in sensitivity Steve was inevitably experiencing, but he kept licking him, slowing down the pace until he began to feel Steve’s body relax. Bucky pulled himself off of Steve, standing up at the foot of the bed and looking at Steve sprawled out on the mattress—naked and vulnerable.
“You feelin’ any better?” Bucky giggled.
“I feel…so…much better,” Steve sounded muffled with a breathy voice.
“I want to fuck you,” Bucky admitted.
“Buck…,”
“I want to fuck you hard,” he added.
“Bucky, I can’t take it,” Steve groaned in a way that highlighted his pained body.
“I want to do it anyway,” Bucky said with his hands on his head, grabbing at his hair like he was out of control for saying that.
“Bucky, please,” Steve pleaded, turning around and facing Bucky, who was just staring down at him from the foot of the bed, looking like he was fighting demons.
“I won’t…I…I just…need to—,” Bucky nearly slapped his own face, like he could punch away the thoughts.
“Are you holding back because I’m asking you to or because you feel guilty for wanting it in the first place,” Steve asked and it felt like he had strung a knife above his head and gave Bucky the string that was holding it from falling into his skull.
“I…don’t want to answer that,” Bucky began pacing around the room, “I’m so fucking…I’m just so confused. At everything—,” it sounded like he was spiraling.
“Bucky, maybe you should just come lay down,” Steve suggested, trying to find a solution to Bucky’s growing nerves.
“Steve, if I get close to you, I’m goin’ to have to fuck you,” Bucky spoke bluntly as his eyes locked onto Steve’s.
“I…,” Steve didn’t know how to respond.
“Do you want me to? To fuck you? Because I want to, Stevie…I need to. My body’s cravin’ for it, and I can’t stop my mind thinkin’ it. Those bruises? They ain’t mine, and I hate lookin’ at them. They make me angry, so angry like I wasn’t the last one that touched you so harshly. It should’ve been me, who left you hurtin’ like that. Bruises all over your ribs, fuckin’ up your pretty skin. I hate that it wasn’t, and I’m not blamin’ you. I’m blamin’ myself, I shouldn’t leave you alone. I should’ve been there, fucked them up myself, Stevie,” Bucky was getting riled up, and Steve couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“You’re…kind of scarin’ me, Bucky,” Steve sat there, analyzing Bucky losing his mind.
“Is that crazy to say? It almost makes me jealous, Stevie. Lookin’ at your bruised body. It’s tellin’ a story that I’m not part of. It makes me angry, and I wanna fuck you for it. I wanna fuck you into the floor—I wanna fuck you bloody. I want you screamin’ my name, screamin’ for more. I want tears rollin’ out your pretty fuckin’ eyes, as I pound into your pretty asshole. I want my nails gripping into your pretty blond hair,” he kept going, and his pace was picking up as he walked back and forth at the foot of the bed, fidgeting his hands through his hair and over his face, like he couldn’t believe the words himself as they fell out of his lips.
“Bucky…watching you talk like this, it—it’s scaring me, ‘cause I know I can’t really do anything about it, if you decided to do that to me. I can’t fight you off, I can’t fight anyone off. You overpower me without trying, and now you’re talking up a storm about how you want to do that to me, and you believe I’ll be into it. It’s like you’re begging me for it, for a hard fuck where I let you rearrange my insides…fuck, where I want you to,” Steve couldn’t help but picture it himself, Bucky was getting so descriptive. It was kind of…turning him on. He didn’t know what that said about him, watching Bucky’s guilt manifest into aggression, and him wanting to aggressively handle Steve because of it. Steve thought that maybe it’s just the feeling of being wanted. Maybe that’s why he was…considering it.
“Is that what you want, Stevie? For me to rearrange your insides, baby? ‘Cause I fuckin’ need it…Stevie, I don’t know what to do with my hands. I’m fuckin’ beggin’ you for it, baby, I’m beggin’, let me fuck your ass. Let me fuck you hard, let me leave my mark,” Bucky stopped pacing and walked to the side of the bed where he gripped Steve’s hair in his hand tightly, pulling his head back where his eyes met Bucky’s, who was staring intently into his glossy eyes.
“Let me fuck you,” he reiterated, “please, baby…let me fuck you,” Bucky was begging. Steve felt butterflies in his stomach. He felt nervous jumps as if his stomach dropped, everytime Bucky said something about fucking him. That word…it was just so dirty. Something about it made Steve get hard. Each time Bucky said it, he got a little harder. Steve’s breaths grew shorter while Bucky stared into his eyes with a stifled expression, gritting his teeth like he was holding everything in. Before Steve knew it, his voice croaked…
“Please…fuck me.”
Notes:
guysss please leave comments about any criticism or potential scenarios you want to see!! i’m game for ANY ideas. obviously i have plenty of my own but i’m willing to find inspiration.
this chapter was really fun to write because i adore steve and his will stand up against bullies despite his stature so OBVIOUSLY i had to incorporate it. it’s so fun writing these characters (they’re literally my favorite) and being able to include canon details that make them who they are!!!
Chapter 10: Redirected Pain
Summary:
Steve and Bucky find themselves getting introspective amidst their intimate exchange (angsty).
Notes:
just finished my first week of classes...i'm so excited for this year. sorry abt the slow upload, more soon i promise xx
Chapter Text
Steve didn’t even realize what he’d said until he said it. Hearing Bucky beg like that did something to him. Bucky wanted him that bad? So bad he was shamelessly begging? Steve was honestly enthralled. The way Bucky was standing there fighting with the idea of intimacy but knowing so badly he wanted it…Steve just—well, he couldn’t help himself.
When the words rolled off of his tongue, Bucky didn’t waste any time. He let his pants fall to his ankles while staring at Steve with desperation. He removed his t-shirt and then he began his descent onto the bed, crawling over top of Steve who was sitting up originally. As Bucky crawled onto him, Steve slowly sank back into the bed, laying onto his back.
“Stevie…,” Bucky said breathlessly, “thank you, baby…thank you,” he pleaded to Steve with his face close to his. Bucky’s eyes were glossy, like he was tearing up. As each short breath ensued, so did Bucky’s second descent—where his lips fell onto Steve’s. Steve was taken by surprise. Based on Bucky’s behavior earlier, he expected Bucky wasn’t going to take his time with him. He thought it’d be more like the first time, the aggressive fuck from behind. But—no…Bucky was kissing him, even after all he’s done already tonight.
Steve kissed back, and he could feel himself beginning to cry. He couldn’t help but be emotional lately. These exchanges—the sex, it was all so complicated. What did it mean? When will it stop? How will it end? Does having sex avoid the bigger question? What is this? What are we? These dreadful questions came so naturally, it hurt him even amidst the most pleasurable moments, like right now.
Bucky softly ran his hands through Steve’s hair and around his face before softly sliding his hand over Steve’s chest. His hand kept moving until he’d gripped onto Steve’s bruised ribs gently. Steve winced.
“What are you doing!?” He panicked.
“Turn onto your side,” Bucky demanded as he began to pull Steve’s body so that he was laying on his left, where his ribs weren’t as bruised. Steve followed this lead and watched as Bucky situated himself right next to Steve—he was spooning him. He put his right arm above Steve’s head on the pillow, keeping his own head up where he could look down at part of Steve’s pretty face.
His left arm was already jerking himself off, pushing out any precum onto Steve’s asshole. Bucky couldn’t wait any longer. He was kissing around Steve’s ear and side of his face before he whispered…
“Do you want me, baby?” Steve felt a surge of nervousness in his stomach from this, like there was a jar of butterflies and it was kicked over. When Bucky talked like this…he just kind of lost himself. It was so hypnotic, the smoothness of his voice, the breathlessness…fuck…Steve was already moaning.
“Mmnnn…yes, I want you,” his eyes were half open, staring back at Bucky.
“I’m putting it in,” he began to slide himself into Steve, watching his face as he did so. Steve closed his eyes as a reflex while his mouth began to hang open, groans escaping. Bucky just watched as Steve took each inch until he’d gone all the way in. As soon as his bush met Steve’s smooth skin, he watched Steve’s eyes relax a little, like he’d finished the hard part. Steve’s eyes closed and his head lay from lifted to comfortably resting on the pillow. His hips began to roll, making a home around Bucky’s cock that was sitting inside of him, throbbing.
Bucky began to move his hips slowly, getting a feel for how badly Steve’s bruises were hurting him. Based on the position, he’d hoped it wasn’t going to be a problem because he really wanted to fuck Steve—hard. He didn’t want to have to worry about anything else. He just needed Steve in that way.
“Is it okay, Stevie?” Bucky said with breaths of space between his words as he began thrusting faster into Steve. At this point, he had moved his left arm onto Steve’s hip to better hold him in place while he fucked him.
“K-keep going,” Steve moaned with approval. Bucky took this and ran with it. He started going faster, his grip on Steve’s waist tightening. His nails were digging into his body as he rocked back and forth, listening to Steve softly cry out.
“You feel so good, baby,” Bucky whispered into Steve’s ear, kissing his neck and surrounding skin while he continued to whisper sweet nothings, “so soft—so pretty—you’re doing so good.”
Steve loved the praise. It made it feel so personal, and that helped him manage the pain. Bucky felt good, in his asshole like that. Again, it was that one spot that made him lose his mind, like he was being lobotomized. It made him forget everything, the bruises and all—until Bucky reminded him.
Bucky moved his hand from Steve’s waist up to his ribs, placing his hand across the bruises. As a shell-shock reaction, Steve cried out and threw his elbow back, hitting Bucky’s chest.
“BUCKY!” His voice rang out, “what are you doing?!” Bucky stopped his thrusts as he and Steve locked eyes. Steve nearly broke his neck with how fast he darted up, looking behind his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did that,” Bucky said with a horrified look on his face, like he thought he’d ruined the night.
Bucky was lying. He knew why he did that. He wanted to hurt Steve—it’s what he does. It’s how he copes. He likes inflicting pain on him. It resembles his own. The sex was so pleasurable, he felt guilty for it. Introducing pain when they did it the first time was something that helped Bucky get through it. He’d get these urges to hurt Steve, but not because he believed Steve deserved it or anything—he was just so fucking full of guilt. Like—how can something so wrong feel SO good? The guilt wouldn’t subside at all, and it’d get to the point where the pain was so intense in Bucky’s head that it’d manifest in his actions—which is why he’d be so aggressive, or intentionally hurt Steve. But sometimes, it’d happen before he could even process it.
The two stared at each other for a moment of heavy breathing and no movement—until it started again. Bucky began moving slowly, while they still kept their eyes locked. Bucky was waiting for some kind of gesture that showed him approval to go fast again. As soon as Steve lost that serious look on his face and his eyes rolled back into his head with his head hanging closer to the pillow, Bucky latched himself aggressively back onto Steve’s body.
He fucked him, faster and faster, but not hard enough. He couldn’t go that hard with this angle. He had his left arm gripping Steve’s left bicep this time, which helped him gain better control of pulling himself into Steve. Bucky wanted more, though. He always wants more. He wanted to be buried as far as he could in Steve’s ass. He wanted his balls to hang lower than his dick. He wanted it all.
Bucky kept fucking him while he pushed Steve’s left shoulder forward and down into the bed where he could fall onto his chest. Along with this maneuver, Bucky rolled his hips with Steve’s ass until they rested atop the mattress. Bucky was now above Steve as they both lay stomach down. Steve braced himself.
“Bucky!” Steve whimpered in anticipation. Bucky smirked while his lips were parted—he was breathing so hard. Drops of sweat beaded down his face and his eyes fixated on the back of Steve’s head—his pretty blond hair. He REALLY liked this angle—the complete and utter control he had was just so fucking perfect. So perfect—it hurt. That pain…
Bucky began relentlessly pounding into him, lifting his hips and clapping down hard. The rest of his body was hugging Steve tightly, arms wrapped around his upper body and neck, his chest complimenting the arch in Steve’s back. Steve was propped up on his forearms, keeping himself off of his ribs as best he could.
“Talk to me,” Bucky panted with his head just behind Steve’s, closing in on his ear.
“Can’t—think!” Steve cried out while Bucky railed him.
“You feel me?” Bucky prompted him.
“YES!” He moaned loudly.
“You want it harder, baby?” Bucky moaned in a sultry voice right into Steve’s ear. It sent shivers down his spine, all the way to his legs—which began shaking.
“Y-YES!” Steve felt tears fall from his eyes as he blinked hard with each thrust. He was…crying?!
“Fuck…that’s my Stevie, take it like a good boy—fuck…you’re so pretty like this,” Bucky moaned—and he could feel the shake in Steve’s legs. He remounted himself to gain the best control and continued to fuck him, really hard. Steve’s legs were still shaking.
“That just feels so fuckin’ good for you, right baby?”
“MMN UGHH, FUCK!” Steve was outright yelling.
“Yeah? You fuckin’ like that?” Bucky kept talking, and it was driving Steve crazy.
“YES!”
“You’re so warm,” Bucky moaned, “you fit me like a fuckin’ glove,” and he was right. Steve felt like his asshole was MADE for Bucky’s cock. He swallowed him whole every time since the beginning.
“I—I’m-, I’m c—cum—CUMMING!” Steve yelled as he let his body release, arms sprawling out and head falling into the bed. Bucky let his body fall down with Steve’s, kissing his neck and side of his face as it happened. He was fucking him through his orgasm. Bucky kept kissing his face while he felt his own hot cum shooting out of him—which took him by surprise. He slowed his thrusts as his body convulsed into Steve’s, emptying his load.
The two laid there for a moment, catching their breaths. Bucky softly kissed the skin on Steve’s back and neck. In a few brief motions, he pulled his softening cock out of Steve’s body. The two both sighed as it happened. Steve’s hole felt like a gaping mess—the feeling of the air hitting the inside walls of his asshole was never something he got used to. It always made him want Bucky to plug him right back up again—but he had to be realistic. Bucky couldn’t stay there forever.
Bucky remained hovering above Steve, kissing his skin.
“Thank you…thank you…thank you, mmmn—Stevie,” he muttered in between kisses. Steve felt the butterflies, they wouldn’t go away. He slowly turned over while Bucky still continued to kiss him. When he stopped on his back, Bucky was staring down at him with glossy eyes and a soft expression. He leaned down and kissed Steve’s lips, softly. It was just a peck, but he’d lift his head and peck him again, and again…and again.
“Bucky,” Steve whispered between a kiss.
“Steve,” Bucky whispered back.
“I think…,” Steve hesitated, and the kissing didn’t stop.
“Mhm?”
“I…like you,” Steve wished he could say what he meant—but he couldn’t. It was too big a risk, and he didn’t want to take it.
“You’re my…best…friend,” Bucky replied between kisses.
“Do…best friends…kiss each other?” Steve said breathlessly.
“Mmnn…we do…,” the kisses continued.
“Do…best…friends—touch…each other?”
“We…do…mm,” Bucky did not stop kissing his soft pink lips, despite his continued attempts to keep talking.
“Do best…friends…have sex…with each…other?”
“We do…,” Bucky whispered before he planted another kiss on Steve’s lips.
“Will…you…hold me?” Steve pleaded softly, and Bucky gave him one final kiss, holding it a little longer before lifting his head.
“Of course, Stevie,” he smiled and kissed his forehead. Bucky started to get off of Steve, grabbing a cloth to clean the two of them up. When he was satisfied, he crawled into bed next to Steve, making sure not to harm his body. He cuddled behind Steve, spooning him as they both settled into each other’s warmth.
Steve loved this side of Bucky, where he was warm and full of love. These were the moments he lived for, after the sex. He loved the sex, it was intimate in a way where he expects no one else in this world will share that experience with him besides Bucky—but this? The cuddling, the sleeping. It was just so comforting. Like he was the safest he’ll ever be. And for Bucky to be okay with it and not spiraling in his own mind—it was a miracle, every time.
“I want this forever,” Steve sighed, knowing Bucky will likely remain quiet. But he just needed to say it, anyway.
“I know,” Bucky replied, planting a kiss onto the back of Steve’s head. He squeezed him a little tighter and that was it, before they’d both succumbed to sleep.
Chapter 11: Seasons Change
Summary:
We have our first larger time skip, though this was necessary. There's a lot of plot in this one, more introspection and character building that focuses the romantic side of things.
Notes:
guysss i know this is more text heavy and paragraphy but trust it's important to what's coming. ITS SPRING TIME!!!!!
Chapter Text
A couple weeks into the new year and Bucky found himself busier than ever. Things were complicated at home—his family home. His sisters and parents were struggling financially and socially. He found himself having to stay over there more often than not—and that put a damper on his time with Steve. But, Steve understood. He also understood that Bucky was becoming increasingly busier at the docks because of all the extra shifts he’d been picking up.
The last night they had spent together was the best one so far. Steve hadn’t ever felt that much intimacy from Bucky. The kisses, the attention to detail, the intention to get Steve off in more ways than one. Like—Steve came three times that night, and it didn’t matter to Bucky what he himself got. It was just all about Steve, until Bucky was begging. That begging…Steve couldn’t stop thinking about it.
The care that Bucky put in to fucking him too, this last time, was an unforgettable. It made Steve so horny, and he kept getting those nervous jumps in his stomach. He’d replay these things over and over again, all day everyday, while he’d draw figurines around his home or sketch sights he’d observe out of his windows. Steve had a big collection of sketches at this point, and it was time to start selling them again.
If Bucky wasn’t going to be around for a while, then Steve needed to find better ways to spend his time than daydreaming about Bucky. Bucky still made an effort to drop by every day or two, but it was so momentary. The two would exchange a hug, which was the normal part. They’d always been hugging, since they were on the schoolyard. The weird part was the dialogue, and the stares. Like…seriously, the staring. It’s like Bucky would forget that he’s talking to Steve, or that he’s supposed to be listening to Steve. His eyes would just lock onto Steve’s, his lips would part, and his mind would presumably go blank.
Steve would have to shove his shoulder to snap him out of it—and every time he did, Bucky would have this concerned look on his face like he’d been fighting with the devil—and boy, was he doing just that.
“You gotta stop doing that,” Steve would tell him—as it’d become so normal. The two would have brief exchanges of conversation, just making sure that they stayed in the loop of each other’s lives, and then they’d say goodbye—with another hug and a stare that lingered for a little too long. This was how it was, for weeks.
Steve really started selling his art well—like, so well. People seemed genuinely interested in having local artwork from a boy who’d clearly put a lot of time into his sketches. Steve was just trying to get by, gather some extra cash for himself to take more weight off of Bucky. It was totally working—but mostly, Steve was enthusiastic about how many people wanted his art. He didn’t realize how much people were willing to pay, and it felt amazing. He was always budget friendly, which surprised him whenever people would suggest prices that were above anything he’d expect from the average person in Brooklyn.
This unintended space between the two of them gave each boy a lot of time to think. Bucky would often reflect when he was at the docks about the things he and Steve had done, and how he undoubtedly wanted more of it. But, it wasn’t just about the sex anymore. He understood that there was more to it, and it was the first time he was actually letting those thoughts flood in. He was piecing it all together, as much as his mind would let him. It was all so foggy, but he knew it wasn’t some fling—some lapse in judgment—no. He understood how he felt about Steve, to an extent. He understood how important Steve was to him—that he’d do anything for him, no matter what. But that was as far as he’d go, thinking about this stuff. He’d hear those questions that Steve had asked before ring through his head, “what does this mean?” or more recently, “is this what best friends do?” Bucky thought about this daily, every time he had some peace and quiet to himself at the docks.
Steve had already figured it out, many moons ago. He already understood what his feelings meant, and why it was so unbearable for him. It’s why he wanted to stop, some time ago. He knew that they wouldn’t get their happy ending living in the times they did. On top of that, he genuinely couldn’t place Bucky’s feelings. Yeah, it was without a doubt that Bucky cared for him in such an overwhelming capacity, one that is hard to find, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Steve couldn’t assume that Bucky felt something as strong as love. And even if he did assume that, he’d also grapple with the idea that Bucky may not be strong enough to consider that himself—which would mean Bucky would lose himself to his insecurity, and then like Steve always anticipated, they would end.
To Steve, they were doomed in every ending–and it would eat him alive.
Both boys were at war in their own heads everyday, and every time Bucky showed up on Steve's doorstep again, all of these fleeting reflections of whispers and touches would freeze in time—all of the worry would subside, and they were just so happy to see each other. Like there were a million unanswered questions—unexplained feelings—but it didn’t even matter. They were just so happy to…be. Existing right before each other, being within a hand’s reach—it was something. And something was enough…for now.
Time went on like this until the icicles on Steve’s front porch started dripping, and the twig branches started blooming green. Steve noticed people’s coats getting lighter, the breeze felt warmer, the sun felt brighter. It was already April. God, this was a busy winter. Four months into the new year and Steve hadn’t felt Bucky’s touch since January. Well…except for that one night.
There was that one night, back in early March, where Bucky had come by real late–like, it was past midnight. Steve had been surprised to see him. Bucky had let himself in like usual, and given the hour, Steve was already asleep. This encounter was unusual. Bucky had found himself waking Steve up, who was briefly startled, and then they just sat staring at one another for a moment. Bucky couldn’t say anything–he wanted to, but he never could. So, he just stared…and stared…until he finally leaned in and started to kiss Steve.
But, this wasn’t a kiss of lust…it was like–passionate? Steve felt like Bucky was more interested in being intimate with him rather than trying to fuck him. But–at this point, Steve was yearning for anything. So, he was kissing back. It was a tender kiss–slow, like they were trying to savor it. Their breaths were shaking, their stomachs were turning inside out, and most importantly, their hands were gracefully touching each other's faces and heads. They were taking their time. Time was their friend, and they didn’t want their friend to slip away.
This lasted for roughly ten minutes of tender…slow kisses. They didn’t speak once, they didn’t touch each other’s dicks–there was no particular sign of Bucky wanting to initiate anything more than kissing Steve. This made Steve’s heart beat flutter, and he could feel Bucky’s was too. They just kept going, until Bucky pulled away, but slowly. He leaned in again, kissing Steve’s cheek–and then again, kissing Steve’s forehead. He stared into Steve’s eyes, again, not saying a word.
They both glared silently before Bucky turned away, footsteps trailing out of the bedroom, quickly closing the door behind him. Steve heard him leave out of the front door, too. And that was it–that was the entire exchange. It only gave Steve more questions, and it killed him that Bucky hadn’t found the time lately to let them talk–or even just hang out. Their time was so limited. And that was the one night where time was finally on their side–even just for ten minutes, they got to be together in the way that they think about daily, without even talking about it.
That helped Steve, despite throwing his mental state for a loop, it allowed him to move forward through March and into the beginning of April, knowing that Bucky hadn’t forgotten about anything. In fact, all of the space between the two of them just reinforced everything Steve thought he’d been feeling. Love–it was so fucking obvious to him now. He was in love with Bucky. Yeah, he’s alluded to it before, but now he knows it. With confidence. And that’s what drives him crazy–this feeling that he can never act upon, he can never fulfill, and he’s just floating through time, unable to say these things to Bucky. That was the worst part–he couldn’t even talk about this with his best friend, because his best friend was the man he was in love with.
Bucky, on the other hand, this just made Bucky go crazy in his own mind. That kiss satisfied a need for him, but he had other needs. His sex drive was so high, and he couldn’t do anything about it. He wanted to stay over at Steve’s and have sex with him, but he was so scared to act on it because of that kiss. That kiss had implications that he wasn’t ready to talk about–that he still didn’t understand. It was unbearable–ALL of this. All of these feelings–these feelings. THESE feelings. He knew what they were but he still kept pushing them down. I mean, that’s impossible, right? Bucky couldn’t feel for Steve. He was just his best friend, he cared for him like best friends do. But that was it–that’s all it will ever be.
Bucky had convinced himself of this. He’d do these mental gymnastics where he’d justify all of it. The sex–the kissing, the cuddling. To him, it was how he and Steve were. Like, that’s just him and Steve. That’s how they are together and that’s all it is. No questions, there’s no time for questions. It’s just them. They’re best friends, Bucky takes care of him, and that’s it. That’s Steve and Bucky.
A season later and Bucky was finally able to come by Steve’s and stay for longer than a conversation or a quick bite to eat. Steve knew this evening was going to be different when he heard Bucky knock on his door—like he doesn’t know where the key is.
“Hey, Steve!” Bucky smiled big while the door creaked open, Steve softly grinning on the other side. Bucky was so enthusiastic, like he had great news to tell Steve. Steve sighed into a toothy smile…
“Bucky!”
A.son (Guest) on Chapter 1 Thu 04 Sep 2025 07:48PM UTC
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