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A smell as familiar as the sound of soldiers training back at Camp Lehigh curled its way into Bucky’s senses and made his mouth water like the smell of a sweet perfume on a bombshell at a dance. Close enough, at least. His eyes opened just enough to take in the room about him, plain and sparse – disheveled, the room of someone who didn’t spend much time inside it or caring for it. That someone had left an empty space next to him in the bed, and the fact that Bucky hadn’t actually woken up when they left sparked a bit of curiosity. Was he that comfortable here? Bucky rolled onto his back and brought his forearm up against his forehead, letting his eyes search for the answer to that question in the ceiling overhead. His stomach, however, didn’t care much for getting an answer as that warm smell continued to roll about the apartment: sweet and earthy like a hot August sunset bathing a ripening field of wheat.
He pushed up into a seated position, finally, the comforter that had been lingering over his bare abdomen falling down to his equally bare waist. The cool metal fingers of his left hand scratched gently at his chest as a quiet yawn slipped past his lips. Every inch of him glowed with last night’s memories just brimming under the surface. A warm body arching underneath him, going taut like a bow string, and then the rush in his head and his heart and his cock – the rapid breathing when their eyes met – the balmy feel of their damp bodies curled against each other once he’d pulled out. Bucky’s mouth betrayed the past months of cold brooding with a smile. Swinging his legs out from under the comforter, Bucky searched for some clothing in a bag he’d brought with him, choosing just a pair of steel grey sweatpants and a black tank top.
The Winter Soldier put his training to perfect morning use as he quietly stalked out of the bedroom of the New York apartment into the living room like some bed-headed panther, his eyes focused on the figure over in the kitchen dressed up in nothing more than a pair of blue boxers and a white t-shirt. Bucky’s eyes took in, not for the first time, how Peter unconsciously made himself a little smaller outside of the costume, how he made his movements a little stiffer, even in something as simple as making breakfast. Pete had sprouted out of being the nerd who got picked on all the time (as Bucky had heard the stories), hadn’t he? And yet he still stood a little taller in the costume, letting his mind and body move more fluidly. Peter Parker still posed a mystery at times, but that didn’t hold Bucky back from slipping both of his arms about the younger man’s waist as he flipped a pancake in the skillet in his hand.
Peter froze for a second – no alarm had gone off in his head, not even the faintest buzzing of his spidey sense to warn him about Bucky’s approach, to warn him of the slightest bit of danger. It had worked about half an hour ago, blaring in the mist of drowsiness to keep him from stubbing his toe against the bed. Now it buzzed again, telling him that he was about to press his hand against the burner of the stove in surprise. So Bucky Barnes didn’t set it off. In an instant, he relaxed, his shoulders dropping down and back against Bucky, even as the older hero rested his forehead against the back of Peter’s head.
“If you’re trying to seduce me, I think you might be succeeding,” said a still sleep-gruff voice before its owner’s head tilted just enough to press a kiss against Peter’s neck. The light prickle of stubble sent goosebumps rushing across the smaller man’s skin, reviving Bucky’s smile, which grew further as his fingers felt Peter’s body go just a little more slack.
“You might not wanna get used to it. I just had the day off from Horizon and, well…” Peter’s lips quirked up sheepishly – his day off, and instead of spending it out on the streets from the get-go, he had decided to make breakfast for first man he’d ever slept with in thirty-one years. His stomach had gamma-irradiated butterflies swarming about and his body hummed with a half-pleasant soreness it had never felt before. “Anyway, I was just finishing up for myself and yours are over there.” He gestured with the spatula to a covered plate, where he’d laid out pancakes and bacon. By the feel of Bucky’s head turning to look at the plate, he imagined those arms might slip away from his waist and those butterflies in his stomach turned to lead for a second. They stayed, though, and he focused on getting that last pancake over to a plate sitting on one of the cool burners.
“Set that stuff down for a bit, Parker.” Bucky reached to turn off that burner once he saw Peter was done, and he tugged the smaller man off to the side and turned him about in a series of quick, gentle motions. He pressed Peter back against the counter after turning him about and looked right into his eyes. Bucky’s still had sleep half-weighing them down, but they shone with a tender mischief that blew a gust through all those Hulk-butterflies working about Peter’s body. The gust grew into a hurricane as Bucky leaned in for a kiss, his lips capturing and holding Peter’s. Bucky counted the seconds in his head, seeing how long it took for Peter to relax completely. One – Peter’s muscles tensed like bands of adamantium. Two – his arms came about Bucky’s waist. Three – they didn’t jolt as Bucky reached back to place his hands over Peter’s. Four – Peter let Bucky pluck his hands away from his body. Five – they yielded to Bucky pushing them back to the counter. Six – they stayed there for support once Bucky pulled away, leaving a lightheaded brunet gazing dreamily at him. Peter didn’t catch on to the soldier’s intentions until his boxers found themselves halfway down his thighs.
“What are you do-” Normally the one with speed on his side, Peter couldn’t get much done in the time it took Bucky to finish tugging down his underwear, freeing his half-hardened cock, and taking it in his grip. It – along with the rest of Peter – jumped at the feel of the warm, calloused hand against it. It looked like, to Bucky’s eyes, that Peter had no more words for him, seeing as his eyes had this haze in their hazel. Peter swallowed and let out a slow exhale.
Bucky lifted Peter’s length just enough to press a kiss against the underside of the head, and from there he brushed his lips down to where the hard flesh met Peter’s balls. He pressed a kiss to each one, soft, yet enough to get the younger man’s skin to tense and then drew back. Peter’s cock twitched now and then with a little jerk, his heartbeat and excitement meeting in precious little pulse. The older man’s eyes looked up once more, hungry for the way Peter’s mouth drew open while his worked its way slowly over the head of the younger man’s cock.
For a good second, Peter’s legs threatened to give way under him, but his hands kept him holding tight to the counter, and Bucky’s cool metal hand pressed against his side, grabbed at his hip to steady him. Bucky had some unknown ocean of experience behind him – because who knew what sort of things he did undercover for years and years under Soviet control – Peter didn’t have to be a philosopher of the bedroom to recognize that in the way the soldier took all of him with ease, the way a warm tongue worked at the underside and sides of his throbbing cock, the way those brown eyes watched him. Through the wall of fire rushing through his veins, Peter could make out the glimmers of care, concern… happiness.
Peter sighed and brought his hand to Bucky’s head; he ran his fingers back through those messy brown tresses, grateful he’d trimmed it back down to that clean and tidy look. The long hair had been nice – interesting – when Bucky managed to take care of it, but he rarely did when he was gone on the missions he did now.
Taking that as a sign to continue, Bucky shut his eyes and began to draw upon Peter’s cock, his lips snug about it as he moved them along the shaft and back to the head. His tongue played with that softer bit of flesh, tracing small patterns of wet warmth with the tip – he tasted the light tinge of Peter’s precum, drops of it mixing in with taste of the younger man’s skin: warm and mixed with the taste of last night’s dried semen. Bucky pressed in again and began to draw back and forth at a steady rhythm, his mouth never letting an inch of skin go unattended for very long.
Head tilting back, Peter focused on the ceiling, his mouth hanging open as his breathing sped up and then hitched and then returned to panting once more. His hips jerked forward now and then, but he really did his best to keep from hurting Buck. If the older man had any problems with it, he didn’t show it. Both of his hands rested at Peter’s hips now, trying to knead out the tension. A soft “Ah!” sprang from Peter’s throat as the bundling wave of heat in his core contracted and then pulsed, rocking him to the edge just that much sooner.
His hands settled on Bucky’s shoulders but then traveled up to the back of his neck and then back again, unable to decide where they wanted to rest. They felt the older man shudder a bit under that touch and it prompted Peter to try it again; Bucky’s eyes, which had shut, tightened up a bit and then eased. Bucky knew how to keep himself under control, keeping the pace even and only ever slowing down, never quickening, to make Peter seek more, to push himself. When Peter couldn’t take anymore, his legs tensed and a soft groan rumbled in his throat. His cock pulsed in Bucky’s mouth, which continued to draw back and forth even after he had drawn what felt like every drop of cum from it.
When Bucky finally drew his mouth away, Peter’s cock stood half as hard as it had been when they started, swollen though easing down. Bucky’s smile returned and he very gently slid Peter’s boxers back up again, laughing a little at the way Peter shivered from the feel of the fabric against his sensitive flesh. Rising to his feet, Bucky licked his lips quickly just to make sure they were clean, and he planted a kiss on the younger man’s jaw. If Peter minded, considering where Bucky’s mouth had just been, he didn’t say anything and just settled against the soldier with a lazy grin.
“If that’s what happens when I make pancakes, I’m gonna have to invest in a griddle.” Peter laughed when Bucky pressed his stubbled face against his neck and nuzzled it, unaware that Bucky, while kind of perking up at that thought, was more content with the fact that Peter was standing just a bit taller. Not that it was going to stop him from pulling Peter into his lap while they ate their cooling breakfast, but first he needed just one more kiss.