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The first picture he gets comes from Sam. Steve’s phone buzzes in his pocket, an hour or so before he’s due to leave, and even though he’s in the conference room with a lot of extremely important people, he pulls it out, checks the message. There’s no text, just an attached picture, and Steve glances up, angles his phone in towards himself, loads the photo.
It’s not dirty, or anything. Just the curve of Bucky’s cheek, his mouth, hair falling into his eyes. Real close-up, a little out of focus, and unutterably tender. Steve smiles for way too long before he types in a reply.
Beautiful. Also, this meeting is taking forever.
He keeps his phone out for a couple minutes, waiting for Sam’s reply, but nothing arrives. Steve frowns, just a little. Slides his phone back into his pocket, and then five minutes later, it buzzes again.
This time, it’s from Bucky. No text, just like Sam’s, and a photo attached, and Steve clicks into it, wondering what they’re doing.
Sam’s lying down, his cheek pillowed against his hand, eyes closed. Lashes curling up on his cheeks, a small smile just showing at the corners of his mouth like he knows he’s being photographed. Steve smiles again, probably obvious, replies as surreptitiously as he can.
If this is trying to encourage me to come home, believe me, I’m more than ready to leave.
The next photo is from Sam again. Sam and Bucky both, like they're taking a selfie together the way they do sometimes, but instead of goofing for the camera they're leaning into each other, mouths very close but not quite touching. Just the very last moment before a kiss, soft and close and intimate. Then Bucky sends one, and in this one Bucky's angled in for the kiss, Sam's hand cradling his jaw like he's pulling him in closer. Seriously, Steve taps out, I'm leaving as soon as I can, this is mean. No reply, but when his phone goes again, the lead negotiator for General Ross clears his throat.
“Something you need to deal with, Captain Rogers?”
“No,” Steve replies, bland and easy. “No, it’s fine.” He checks his phone anyway, real quick. Sam, and the photo is Sam’s hand in Bucky’s hair, cupping the curve of his head. Steve knows that gesture. It’s the one that comes right before Sam tightens his fingers, gathers Bucky’s hair into his grip and pulls just a little, just enough to make Bucky go soft and pliable and breathless. He swallows, closes the photo, puts his phone back in his lap. It’s not long before Bucky sends him the next one. Sam again, shirt unbuttoned and hanging open to reveal the planes of his chest, his smooth dark skin gorgeous against the light fabric. Steve takes a deep breath, and tries very hard to focus.
His phone buzzes once, twice, three times with incoming messages, and he ignores them very heroically for twenty minutes, listens attentively to the discussion. It’s so fucking dull though, and his phone buzzes again, helpfully reminding him he’s got unread texts. He drops his gaze to his lap, opens the first one. From Sam, Bucky’s head tilted back, the line of his throat, the divot between his collarbones. There’s a red mark at the base of his throat, fading already, like Sam's kissed his way down and grazed his teeth just a little over the skin. Steve swallows hard, clicks to the next one. Bucky must have held the phone up, angled it just right, because it's almost the same view as Steve’d get if he were in Bucky's place. Sam's face, his mouth on Bucky's chest, Bucky's hand on the nape of Sam's neck. Steve takes another breath, and opens the most recent photo. It's another view of Bucky's throat, but this time the bite mark is darker, purpling in a bruise, exactly the shape of Sam's teeth. Steve can imagine the noise Bucky made, the breathy little gasp he would have let out as Sam sunk his teeth in, and he's so fucking hard in his suit trousers he can't hardly breathe.
You're killing me, he sends to Sam, because of the two of them Sam is more likely to listen. He clearly doesn't, or doesn't stop Bucky, because the next picture is from Bucky. Sam on his knees, his hands fumbling with his belt like he's in the middle of undoing it, and Steve can see how Sam's hard all the way through his jeans.
Jesus Christ, he replies, more in awe than in any hope they'll cut it out. Can imagine just how Bucky’ll laugh when he gets it. He glances at the clock, back at his notes, turns his phone from vibrate to silent just in time for the next message. Bucky’s hands, lifted above his head, one flesh and one metal but both delicate and beautiful. Crossed at the wrists, fingers curled loosely in on themselves, and Sam’s framed it so carefully Steve can basically feel his love radiating right through the picture. Steve swallows again, bites his lip.
“Look,” he says, “I- I need to go, actually. Personal matter.” He thinks he makes it out of the room without anyone noticing he’s blushing and flustered, but he’s not a hundred percent sure. Doesn’t really care, at this point. He makes it to the car just as he gets the next text, and feels his face burn as soon as he opens it, because Jesus fucking Christ, Bucky’s sent him a literal selfie with Sam’s dick in his mouth, and it’s absolutely the hottest thing Steve has ever seen. Since he’s alone in the car, he gives in, palms himself through his pants, and then Sam sends him another angle of the same thing. Bucky’s eyes are closed, mouth stretched wide, and Sam’s thumb is on his bottom lip, slick with spit.
I’m on my way, he texts, don’t have all the fun without me, and starts the car.
Steve’d feel bad for checking his phone while he’s driving, except it’s not the worst thing he’s ever done on a freeway, not by a long shot. And every picture is so fucking worth it; they’ve stopped trading off, and instead Steve gets a series from Sam, Bucky sucking dick like it’s his main goal in life. The shot of Bucky, mouth open, Sam’s hand fisted tight in his hair and yanking him off Sam’s cock, makes Steve’s own dick throb. He has to grit his jaw, clench the steering wheel, look away for a couple minutes. Puts his foot on the gas and floors it just so he can get home that much quicker, thanking god the whole way there’s no traffic yet. And then they switch it up, Bucky sending him a photo of Sam stretched out on his stomach, the long lean lines of his back and shoulders. Steve can imagine exactly how Bucky would lean down, press a kiss to the nape of Sam’s neck, trail his tongue slowly down Sam’s spine. The next shot is the swell of Sam’s ass, Bucky just barely thumbing him open, and even though Steve’s alone he can feel his whole face go so hot he feels like they must be picking it up on heat sensors across the damn country. He’s pulling off the freeway, only a couple minutes from home, and Jesus, he’s never had better timing, because Bucky sends him another photo, Sam’s thigh splayed up, a drop of sweat rolling down the base of his spine, and Bucky must be fingering him well and good based on how tight Sam’s hand is clenched in the sheet.
He gets the car in the driveway, unlocks the front door and slams it shut. Takes the stairs up to the bedroom two at a time. When he pushes open the bedroom door, the first thing he hears is Sam moaning. Bucky’s got his face buried in Sam’s ass, pulls back when he hears Steve come in. Grins at him, mouth red and wet, eyes bright.
“Oh hey, Steve,” he says. “You’re home early. Something distract you?”
“You little shit,” Steve says, with affection. “Don’t you got something you’re supposed to be doing?”
“Yeah,” Sam gets out, “quit fucking around, Barnes,” and Bucky must crook his fingers just right to scrape across Sam’s prostate because Sam gasps and shudders, arches back against it. Bucky kisses the curve of his ass, his thigh, and then gets back to it, and Sam’s breath stutters out. “Oh,” he gasps, “oh oh oh oh god right there, fuck, don’t- fuck,” and Steve crosses the room, stripping off his jacket as he goes.
“Hey, baby,” he says. Bends down to kiss Sam. “Having fun?”
“So much,” Sam agrees, “you gonna join us or what?”
“Yeah,” Steve says thoughtfully. Straightens back up, unties his tie, unbuttons his shirt. “Yeah, I can’t let you have all the fun, can I?” He sits down at the foot of the bed where Bucky is sprawled out, slaps his bare ass a little just to hear him squeak. Grabs the lube and slicks his fingers up, traces the rim of Bucky’s hole. Bucky moans, and it must feel so good with how he’s got his tongue right in Sam’s ass because it makes Sam moan too, and sweet Jesus God Steve’s hard. “So here’s what we’re gonna do,” he continues, and he’s never going to admit it to either of them but he’s impressed his voice is still level like he’s sitting at the negotiating table and not here, watching something that’s setting him on fire. “I figure, Bucky’s gonna fuck you, right, Sam?”
“You’re goddamn right,” Sam gasps, voice hoarse, and Steve pushes one finger into Bucky, feels him clench and then relax.
“So,” he says, strokes slowly into Bucky, “the way I figure it, Bucky’s gonna fuck you, and I’m gonna fuck Bucky. That work for you?”
“Hell fuckin’ yeah,” Sam groans, and Steve works another finger into Bucky, stretches him open. Bucky moans again, muffled by how he’s still licking into Sam, and pushes his hips back against Steve’s fingers, trying to fuck himself deeper.
“Oh, you want more? I think he wants more, Sam,” Steve says, teasing. Sam laughs breathlessly.
“Always so goddamn needy,” he agrees, and cries out; Bucky must have hit Sam’s prostate again. Steve pinches Bucky’s ass with his free hand, scissors him open, shoves in a third finger just hard enough he knows the edge of pain will make Bucky gasp. “Come on,” Sam says, “come on, are you gonna fuck me or what, Barnes?”
“Jesus fuck, I thought I was makin’ you feel good, here,” Bucky complains, coming up for air, “but if all my efforts are gonna be dismissed, I guess I’ll just-”
“Don’t you dare,” Steve says, “you’re gonna fuck the guy like he asked, alright?”
“Fine,” Bucky sighs, sounding put-upon, but he’s kissing the dimples at the top of Sam’s ass and Steve can see how he’s smiling, lovestruck like there’s nowhere he’d rather be. “Jesus, Steve, you gonna get your fingers outta my ass so I can move?”
“I don’t figure I gotta,” Steve says, twists them to hit the good spot just so he can hear Bucky go breathless and begging, and then he does pull them out, undoes his belt, gets his stupid dress shoes and pants off. By the time he’s done, Bucky’s manhandled Sam up onto his knees, head pillowed on his arms, and he’s lining his dick up with Sam’s hole.
“Doing okay, baby?” he asks, soft, and slides in, careful and gentle at first. Sam moans, and Bucky strokes his hip, rocks into it a little. “Yeah, that’s right, I’m gonna make you feel so good.”
“Yeah,” Sam gasps, “yeah, that- yeah,” and that’s Steve’s cue to get involved.
“My turn,” he murmurs, and gets Bucky bent over, pushes all the way in. He’s not at all gentle the way Bucky was with Sam, and Bucky yells, reaches back and slaps Steve’s thigh. “Stop yelping,” Steve says, dismissive. Smacks his ass. “You love it, don’t lie.”
“Always so rough with me, Rogers,” Bucky complains, his tone injured, but when Steve shoves his hips, thrusts hard, Bucky cries out again, whines high in the back of his throat, arches back into it.
“Yeah, look at you, you fucking love it,” Steve tells him, and Sam makes a disgruntled noise.
“Yes, we all know how Bucky likes to take it,” he says, “but I’d like to make a counterpoint, and that’s would you goddamn fuck me already.”
“Oh, that’s how it is,” Bucky mutters, “that’s how it is, huh,” and he begins to rock his hips harder.
“Yeah,” Sam says, “yeah, yeah,” and then Steve decides what this needs is executive action, and grabs Bucky’s hips, holds him still, and shoves. It pushes Bucky harder straight into Sam, and Sam’s breath sounds like it’s punched out of him. Bucky straight-up wails like he’s caught between the two of them, which, technically, he totally fucking is, and Steve digs the fingers of one hand into Bucky’s hip, gets his other hand fisted in Bucky’s hair and pulls hard.
“Oh,” Bucky moans, “oh god oh fuck Steve oh Sam,” and Steve can feel his orgasm building, his balls getting tight, but he’s damned if he’s gonna be the first to come.
“Touch Sam,” he tells Bucky, “come on, Buck, get your hand on his goddamn cock already, Jesus, this the first time you’ve fucked someone or what?” and Sam moans like Steve’s dirty talk is one hundred percent doing it for him. “You doing okay, Sam?” Steve adds, and Sam laughs.
“You mean, am I doing okay with two supersoldiers fucking into me?” he asks, sounding cheeky but also wrecked, “yeah, man, I’m doing oh sweet Jesus right there I’m doing so good, baby, I’m gonna-”
“Buck’s gonna come first,” Steve says, his grip on Bucky’s hip hard enough to bruise, and lets go of his hair before grabbing it again, pulling harder. “Aren’t you, baby? You’re so fucking tight, you’re just gonna come for us,” and he pulls back, slams straight back in, and that’s it, Bucky’s coming so hard he sounds like he’s maybe crying a little, and he must be jerking Sam off because Sam makes a noise like he’s tipping right over the edge too. Steve keeps going and keeps going, hard and fast and just a little mean, knowing Bucky must be right on the brink of painful oversensitivity, and when he starts making soft little noises, wet and gasping, Steve comes so hard he actually maybe blacks out a little.
It’s difficult not to collapse down in a pile, but they manage it, because if Sam winds up at the bottom of the pile they might actually smother him. He’s only human, after all, and they gotta take care of him. They sprawl out instead, gasping for breath, covered in sweat and lube and come, and it’s all kind of fucking disgusting except that Steve loves them both so much he can’t actually handle it for a few seconds, has to put his arm over his eyes and take some deep breaths.
“Jesus Christ, Steve,” Bucky says afterwards, sounding equal parts impressed and taken aback, and Steve shrugs.
“You wound me up,” he says like it explains everything. “I was in a goddamn meeting, and the two of you were sending me dirty pictures, come on.”
“Well, it paid off, didn’t it?” Sam asks, and yeah, it did, it did pay off, except-
“I think General Ross noticed my boner,” Steve says, and can’t tell who laughs the hardest.