Archive of Our Own

Sarah Rogers

The first time that they even realise there might be an exhibition kink at all, it almost doesn’t count. That’s what Steve will tell Bucky later down the line anyway, though Bucky isn’t fully sure he agrees. Just because it only technically involves Steve and not the both of them doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.

Steve also claims that it isn’t his fault that they discover it. Bucky… well… he has to disagree.

Really, Bucky wouldn’t even be on his knees between Steve’s matchstick-skinny legs on the barely covered floorboards of the shitty apartment Steve shares with his Mom if Steve wasn’t so goddamn Steve in the first place, so everything that followed on from that moment was definitely Steve’s fault… even if they’d been in this position before now.

“Oh, oh, Buck…” he’s gasping, that deceptively deep voice panting out somewhere above Bucky’s head as those long, thin artists’ fingers lace in his hair. It’s going to make it into a right damn mess and Bucky will spend far too much time later trying to wrangle it back into something respectable looking, but right now he can’t bring himself to care.

He’s got Steve’s cock hot and heavy and pulsing in his mouth as he squirms and struggles not to push up into Bucky’s mouth - not that Bucky would mind if he did. He’s slutty for Steve, he always has been, he can’t help it.

He’s hard in his pants again despite having come apart already this afternoon at the mercy of Steve’s fingers and he has a hand pressed to his crotch, pushing down and lazily trying to relieve some pressure.

He’s so gone on Steve generally some days that he’s willing to risk it all - be called a faggot, be arrested - if it means he can enjoy the way this man sounds when he’s deep in the throes of pleasure and if there’s no way he has to see him with anyone else. How Steve can stand watching Bucky go out night after night with different girls on his arm and flirt and dance he has no idea - but then, Steve has always been a better man than Bucky himself.

“Do you need some relief, baby? Is sucking me off like this making you want more? Yeah, I’ll bet it is,” Steve coos and Bucky knows that if he looks up now those baby blues will be almost black and Steve will be looking at him, watching the show. And really, if it’s a show he wants, it would be rude for Bucky not to perform, especially when he knows how much Steve loves it.

He moves his tongue, completely focussed on his task - on making Steve feel good - and pushes downwards, taking in his full length and swallowing around him, giving him just enough suction that it makes him gasp. His nose is fully pressed into the blond curls at the base of Steve’s cock and he loves the way the musky scent of Steve’s skin is stronger here, loves that every sense is taken over by the beautiful man in front of him. Beyond that, Bucky knows Steve’s noises and he knows the way his thighs are quivering against his upper arms and he knows he’s so close and Bucky can’t wait to taste it. He moves faster now, almost finding himself a little desperate for what he knows will come.

“Buck, Buck… oh oh...” Steve’s managing now but right when Bucky knows that he’s right on the precipice, teetering on the point of no return, he freezes. And then he pulls Bucky away, wiping Bucky’s mouth with his own hand, a panicked look in those blue eyes.

“Buck, I heard the door,” he hisses, pulling his ratty, bobbled blanket up over his lap, covering his exposed cock as Bucky spins around, running a hand through his hair as his heart pounds because if Steve has just heard someone come back - a miracle in itself with Steve’s partial deafness - then he knows that it’ll be Sarah Rogers and she’ll immediately come and find out where they are.

“I thought you said your Mom wasn’t due back until late tonight!” Bucky whispers frantically wiping his mouth again and moving to sit on Steve’s rickety bed because that’s actually less suspicious than him sitting on the floor in front of Steve with a boner evident at his crotch, and picks up the copy of whatever sci-fi novel it is he’s reading - he can’t even remember now - and tries to look less flushed, less panicked and less thoroughly fucked.

“She isn’t meant to be! You know how her shifts at the hospital are!” Steve replies, running a hand through his own hair and adjusting the blankets and giving some to Bucky to hide what’s going on in his pants, his skinny legs thankfully covered now too - and really, with the fall winds creeping into Brooklyn it isn’t a bad idea for Steve to be wrapped in a blanket at all times, quite honestly. Neither Bucky - nor Sarah Rogers for that matter - is likely to forget how Steve had sounded with his chest rattling from pneumonia or how long it took his frail body to recover.

If Bucky knows one thing and one thing only, it is that he never wants to live in a world without Steve Rogers in it.

Before either of them has much chance to panic any more, the door is creaking and opening, Sarah Rogers’ face appearing in the gap. Steve moves the blankets again and lets out a small, sudden gasp and his face changes from panic, to that slightly dopey face that he pulls when he… and wait, did he just…?

Either way, Bucky can’t focus on that now.

“Hi Mrs Rogers, you’re back early!” he says, aware he probably sounds a bit too jolly but hopefully she won’t pick up on it.

“Hi there James,” she replies warmly, giving him an indulgent smile. “I am. It’s surprisingly quiet there today, so I thought I’d invite your Mom and your sisters over for dinner as I’ve time to cook for once and they’ve done it for us so often. Of course, the invite would have extended to you, but I see you’re already here.”

“I sure am, and I’m sure they’ll be grateful,” he said with a smile. Of course he really knows that his Mom will argue, will say that it isn’t up to Mrs Rogers and her family of two to feed their family of four, but it will fall on deaf ears like it always does - especially given how often Steve eats at theirs when Sarah works late.

“I think we both know that’s not quite true,” she says, giving him an indulgent smile all the same. “But either way, I’m going to go to the market now and see if I can’t rustle up something a little special for the occasion and I’ll drop by and see your Mom afterwards and see what I can do.”

“See you later, Ma,” Steve says, finally piping up. Bucky notes the soft pink flush on his cheeks which is a good look for several reasons - one of which being because it makes him look healthier than he does on average.

“Bye, boys,” she replies, and the door clicks closed.

Bucky immediately turns to Steve.

“Did you just..?” he asks, pushing a hand below the blanket and feeling the naked skin of Steve’s thigh and over to his cock and… oh. It’s damp in a way that’s not just sweat and Bucky feels the stickiness of come on his fingertips. “You came?”

“I couldn’t help it! The thought that she nearly… oh god, it did something for me and I can’t explain!” Steve manages, blushing bright, tomato red and looking at Bucky with those big blue eyes.

“Someone nearly seeing what we’re doing got you all hot and bothered, huh?” Bucky asks, wondering if this is something he can later use to his advantage and Steve blushes and nods. Bucky can’t help but laugh and pull Steve closer to him kissing him on the lips as even he hears the apartment door click shut again - not half as distracted from the world around him this time.

“Yeah,” Steve manages, between kisses, panting a little but his breath isn’t wheezing too much so Bucky doesn’t worry about it, especially not when Steve’s hands are wandering now, a fingertip running the length of his dick teasingly, showing him that Steve is very much aware that Bucky is very much still hard.

“How much?” he asks, wondering if Steve will actually tell him.

“A lot. Like… if she’s gone long enough I might even get hard again, even if I can’t come,” he replies, and actually, Bucky knows that’s a pretty big deal all things considered - sometimes Steve can’t even get it up, even when he wants to, what with his dodgy heart and bad circulation.

Bucky chuckles, kissing him deeply and grinding down into his hand, showing his intentions very clearly. “Well, I’m game for trying if you are,” he promises and Steve’s only answer is to lean down and kiss him hard again with intent.

“I’ll bet you are,” he replies as they start working on just that.

*****

Steve only realises that he’s not the only one who gets a little… excited by the danger of getting caught a few years later.

It’s an impossibly warm and sticky summer evening three days before Bucky is due to ship out, his number having come up in the draft. Steve can still remember how he felt about it, seeing Bucky go pale and worried and knowing that his best friend and the man he’s been in love with since he knew the meaning of love was being shipped off somewhere that he couldn’t follow… not that Steve had tried. In fact, he was still trying - another fake enlistment attempt booked for Bucky’s last night.

As much as he wanted to fight the good fight and stick it to some bullies who’d gone way past their stations, he didn’t want Bucky to be alone. Steve had never been alone even when he thought he had because he’d always had Bucky. He didn’t want the same not to be true the other way around, and yet the more 4F stamps he accumulated on enlistment cards with slightly different details each time, the more impossible it seemed that he could do anything about it.

Still, Steve wouldn’t give up, even if Bucky had asked him to.

But that wasn’t a problem for right now.

No, right now they were lying out on their fire escape and trading soft, adoring kisses in between checking that the neighbours aren’t looking.

Of course, they could go inside, but the air inside of the apartment was even more stifling than it was outdoors and it’s getting onto Steve’s chest and making him cough and even though Steve knows it’s nothing Bucky isn't hearing any of it, saying he can’t go without knowing Steve’s chest is perfectly alright… as if he has a choice.

Either way, Steve is in a mood to indulge, wanting Bucky as happy and comfortable as he can be before leaving, so here they are.

Bucky is stretched out on the side of the fire escape furthest from their window, his broader form giving them more cover for their covert kisses than Steve’s could ever hope to do. He’s almost cat-like when he’s like this, all relaxed and lounging and Steve loves the way that the sunlight makes his skin a soft golden colour.

He lets his eyes wander, taking in Bucky’s high cheekbones, his lips, the cut of his shoulders and he tries to commit every detail to memory, wanting to have that even when Bucky is gone. He knows that the memories will hurt, but they’ll hurt less than not having them, he knows that already. Wandering lower he takes in the V of Bucky’s partly-undone shirt, and the line of buttons down his naval to his waist and then…

“Buck, is this…?” he asks, before darting a hand out and cupping Bucky’s crotch, feeling the outline of his half-chubbed cock there in his pants and looking up at the light rosy blush that’s already colouring Bucky’s cheeks in response to his movement. “Oh, hi there.”

Bucky watches his face, half bemused. “Steve, someone’s going to see,” he warns.

“Nah,” Steve replies, noting that Bucky hasn’t grabbed his wrist or made any move to stop him which he would have if he were serious. “I’m sure we can do something real careful.”

“We can’t do what I want real careful, not out here,” Bucky says, watching Steve with those steel-blue eyes and oh, Steve immediately knows what he’s really looking for, what the ideal situation for him would be.

Despite the whispers he’s heard around the docks and on certain very particular side streets in the city, where in every homosexual couple there’s a ‘dame’ and it’s usually the smaller party, he and Bucky don’t do it that way. No, despite the fact that Bucky is a whole lot bigger than Steve in every single way - and yeah, even that way - Bucky likes it when Steve takes charge… when Steve is the man.

And Steve… well.

He loves it too.

“Can’t we?” Steve asks idly, knowing he’s pushing his luck. He supposes that in his defense they push both of their luck every time they’re intimate anyway, what with their tenement having paper-thin walls and families living in cramped conditions either side - families who know this place only has the one bedroom and no dame in sight, or at least no resident dame.

Bucky tries to help with that, being the better looking and the better catch of the two of them he takes girls out dancing, albeit a different one every time to stop them getting attached to something they can’t have - and to stop their good names being ruined by him. Selfishly, Steve’s also glad of it - it shows that Bucky isn’t attached either, though he knows he should wish that Bucky would find one he did like and have a normal life - wife, kids, family and all.

But he’s not that big of a man. He loves Bucky too much.

“Steve,” Bucky says warningly, though Steve can feel his cock filling more, becoming more solid and thick against his palm, the warmth evident even with the outside temperature as it is. “How would we even..?”

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” Steve promises him, an idea forming in his mind now, an idea he thinks he might be able to pull off. “Come back over here and I’ll come up behind you when I’m back - I just need a couple of things…”

He expects Bucky to stop him as he moves, sitting up and sliding himself back through the open window into the apartment, but he doesn’t. Steve takes that agreement to considering Steve’s plan if not enthusiastic consent. His cock twitches and heat pools in his stomach at the thought, though he can already feel that tonight’s not a night where what they both really want is going to happen. He’s had some issues recently with feeling faint when he stands - not enough blood to circulate, or his heart not doing a good enough job of using what he has, a doctor had told him once. It was probably right.

Either way, he knows what he can do now, and Bucky can have what he wants. Bucky deserves it. He goes to their bedroom and grabs a cotton sheet from the bed. It’s white and a little threadbare, but it should be enough - he can certainly tell the neighbours he’s struggling in the direct sun and this offers a little shade - and then he lifts the loose floorboard on his side of the bed and takes the small glass bottle of oil, pocketing it and heading back out.

“Get under,” he tells Bucky, who glances at him like he’s finally lost it but does it anyway and Steve slides in behind.

“Now Buck, you’re gonna have to be real quiet for me, babydoll,” he says quietly, letting his voice dip low and pressing his lips close to Bucky’s ear as he gets under the sheet behind him. “And leave everything else to me. Being quiet is literally your only job right now.”

Bucky nods and Steve breathes out a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding, realising that yes they really were going to do this.

“Good boy,” he says and Bucky fucking shivers. Steve stares for a second before tucking away that reaction as a little nugget of information to use at a later date and gets to work, sliding a hand up and over Bucky’s waist, making sure to ruck his shirt more and allow his fingers to trail the skin, as he gets to the button of Bucky’s fly. “Last chance to back out…”

Bucky shakes his head then, his hair softly tickling the top of Steve’s forehead given their height difference and position and Steve can’t help but smirk. Bucky wants this - he wants it as much as Steve does. Steve very much plans to use that to his advantage.

Using only one hand, Steve manages to undo the button to Bucky’s pants and then gets the zipper, shuffling them down so they sit at the crease below his ass. Thank god neither of them buys their clothes new and therefore they never quite fit properly, always just a little too big.

He moves then, hearing Bucky make a soft noise of dissent as he pulls the bottle of oil from his pocket. “Sorry Buck,” he breathes. “But if you want me to do what you want, I gotta get you ready, huh?”

He coats three fingers before slipping the small bottle back into his pants and takes a minute to use his clean hand to rub over and massage the cheeks of Bucky’s ass. Unlike his own, which is flatter than your average pancake, Bucky’s has always had a bit of meat to it, creating a delicious curve that Steve very much likes to draw and lavish attention on.

Bucky shivers again and Steve can’t help but smile. “It’s okay, baby, I got you,” he all but purrs, before parting his best friend and lover’s cheeks and pushing his index finger between, teasing at the whorl of muscle there as he props himself on an elbow, determined to see Bucky’s face.

Right now his eyes are open, staring across the way to the opposite side of the street, but they’re blown wide with lust and those plush, full lips are parted. A pretty pink blush is across his cheeks and he has an expression of awe and wonder like he can’t quite believe that this is actually happening. Well, Steve thinks, he’s definitely going to believe by the time he’s done.

Pushing just a little more he breaches the muscle - but only just - rubbing a small circle just inside. Bucky tenses a little, like it’s a surprise that Steve is doing what he’s doing, but then begins to relax, and that’s when Steve knows it’s more than okay to push a little deeper.

The thing is, he’s been doing this for years now. Bucky Barnes might be the most patient man in all of New York City with how he’ll stay down on his knees worshipping Steve’s cock even when it won’t get fully hard, focussed on his task until Steve finally, finally gets his release (or at least feels really damn good), but Steve is the best at knowing what Bucky needs - and he can more than deliver it, he knows that. Idly, he thinks once again that perhaps it’s one of the real merits of falling in love with your best friend - you get plenty of practise time. They’ve learned together what works for them, and it really shows.

He knows how to work Bucky to a stage where he’s a quivering mess and he also knows it’s beautiful. Already, he can’t wait.

“You gotta tell me when you need more, Buck,” he breathes, pushing the finger in, feeling the warmth and the tightness of Bucky’s body even as he’s accepting it, coaxing him open as best he can. He knows he can’t linger like he wants to - there is a risk of being seen or heard here after all - but that’s not an excuse for him not to make this good.

“You know I want more, Stevie,” he breathes and Steve can’t help but smirk. That little use of the nickname ‘Stevie’ tells him everything he needs to know about how Bucky is right now and he loves it.

“I got you,” he whispers in response, risking a kiss to the back of Bucky’s neck, right at the spot where his collar ends and a strip of naked skin is exposed before gently moving his hand again, working Bucky open with the two fingers now and knowing that he’ll be feeling the stretch and the burn and knowing that Bucky absolutely loves that.

“Oh yeah, you have,” he murmurs, shifting himself and pushing back just a little against Steve’s hand, letting out a soft needy whine.

Steve chuckles a little even though he knows he shouldn’t. “Remember babydoll, you gotta stay quiet, don’t need anybody looking up here and trying to see what’s going on.”

“Oh but - oh!” Bucky starts, before bringing his own fist up to his mouth and shoving it in, clearly trying his hardest to stop himself from making more noise now as Steve crooks his fingers just so, knowing exactly where he needs to and where to put that pressure.

“There we go, good boy,” he encourages, moving more in earnest now, slipping in the third finger and letting Bucky feel that fullness, and being sure to press against that spot inside of him that always made him loud even though he knows it’s a terrible idea… but there’s just something about the idea of getting caught - even if it’s way more trouble than it’ll be worth - that gets him hot.

And apparently it does the same to Bucky.

No matter how much he wants to, Steve is very aware he can’t take his time, so he slips an arm up and over Bucky’s waist, wrapping it around the firm line of his cock and squeezing - working up a rhythm that he knows will compliment what his other hand is doing and really, the reaction is instant. It’s clear to him immediately that Bucky’s struggle to stay quiet has just gotten a whole lot worse - and Steve knows he shouldn’t be enjoying it as much as he is, but he just can’t help himself.

The thing is, Steve knows he’s good - or knows he’s good for Bucky at least. Whilst the rest of his body might be defective on all kinds of levels, Steve’s hands and fingers are dexterous and clever and he uses that to his advantage now, working Bucky over quickly.

He’s making these soft, needy “ah, ah, ah” noises and Steve can’t quite bring himself to tell him to shut up even though he knows it would be for the best, instead working him over harder and plunging him over the edge, feeling the throb of his dick as he comes hard and hot and probably making a mess of the damn sheet.

Unfortunately, as wrapped up as Bucky is in coming and Steve is in watching Bucky’s pleasure, neither of them hears a noise from above until it’s almost too late.

They watch in horror as the spindly form of their upstairs neighbour, Mrs Schrager, comes out of her own window, a cigarette in her hand and she looks down at them, seeming distinctly unimpressed.

“Hey, you boys want to stop horsing around so much, you’re causing a neighbourhood disturbance!” She berates them immediately, taking a box of matches from the pocket of the apron she’s wearing, presumably from cooking dinner for her husband who’s nearly as awful as she is and works long hours down on the docks.

Steve can feel his heart pounding in his chest and he knows his eyes are wide. They’ve literally been caught with their pants down - or at least Bucky’s pants down - and despite the fact they live in a generally progressive neighbourhood for New York in the 1930’s, he can’t imagine Mrs Schrager is one of those people. What if she knows? he thinks, blindly wondering if they can get those pants up or hide the jizz that’s probably on the sheets now or whatever else and save themselves and…

“Well? Nothing to say for yourselves?” She asks, rolling her eyes and flicking her ash off the edge of the escape onto the street below. “Honestly it’s a good job the army’ve got a hold of you Barnes - might make a decent man out of you yet!”

“Er… good afternoon Mrs Schrager,” Bucky says, giving his most charming smile and Steve wonders how in the fresh hell he can be so blasé, though that’s got to be better than Steve’s current impression of a goldfish whilst he wonders if he’s actually having a heart attack this time.

“Don’t you good afternoon me, boy, I’m not one of your floozies you can bat those eyelashes at and have them draping themselves across your arm,” she says, shaking her head. “Anywho, some of us have a useful contribution to make today. Don’t let me catch you out here again!”

Of course, Steve has no idea what she’ll do if she does, but that’s a problem for another time because now she’s climbing back into her apartment, still smoking the cigarette as she goes and he wonders not for the first time if her walls and ceilings are as yellow as they ought to be.

“Holy shit,” he breathes then and Bucky nods, pulling his pants up and over his ass before buttoning them.

“S’about right, huh? Do you think she suspects?” he asks, and Steve pauses, thinking about it. She hadn’t treated them any differently to how she usually did, but that didn’t mean much.

“I hope not,” he says honestly before breathing out. “I’m sorry, Buck.”

“Sorry, shit Stevie, that was hot,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “And maybe I get your thing for nearly being caught now, but Jesus, maybe I ought to take Barbara to the Stark Expo like she’s been hinting at huh? And get her to find a friend for you?”

Steve breathes out, sighing. The Stark Expo is the night before Bucky ships out and Steve would really like them to have that time at home alone together, but he can see what his friend is doing. Without Bucky around Steve is a much bigger target for anyone wanting to throw accusations around, and he’s never going to score a date on his own, for all Bucky’s jokes that he’s about to become one of the most eligible bachelors in New York - there’ll be rumours he didn’t get drafted because he’s queer before he knows it, he’s sure.

“I… yeah, okay,” he acquiesces, deciding that spending the night with Bucky with some girl mooning over him is better than not spending the night with Bucky at all… and Steve’s still the one he’ll be able to go home with. He’ll console himself with that.

*****

Image: [Steve and Bucky, pre-war] | Art by: murky crush

Bucky knows that Steve is worried about him - has been since Azzano - and really, he can understand why. He knows he looks haunted - he’s not seen his own face, but the blankness he feels in his mind sometimes must be written all over it - he’s always been too expressive for his own good. That, and finding someone strapped to a table and mumbling their name and their military number over and over and over with nothing else between can’t exactly be reassuring.

He’d originally thought that this new, bigger, healthier version of Steve was some sort of fever dream, something he’d dreamed up to stop himself from losing hope completely and going mad - but it was real. And yet, he was still somehow so Steve that it hurts in the most wonderful way.

Of course, he knows that Steve is only in this war because he is - and he’s certainly only ignored orders and gone deep behind enemy lines to get to him and even if Bucky definitely wants to wring his neck for it, there’s something about it that settles his stomach. When Bucky told Steve he was with him til the end of the line and Steve repeated the sentiment it had seemed like the right thing to say, and Bucky had wondered in the dead of night sometimes whether Steve actually meant it or whether he just gave the expected answer - but this proved that he did.

They’re somewhere in the French Alps now, heading for the next HYDRA cell that the Howling Commandos have found and it’s cold. It’s that horrible creeping cold that seeps in under his skin and has set deep in his bones. He’s healed well and he knows he’s lucky for that… or perhaps lucky for whatever they injected into him though he doesn’t much want to think about that - but it’s still always there now in a way that it never has been before.

Luckily, his nightmares disturb the other men and he’s been the perfect excuse to bunk with Steve in the small but private tent he is afforded as Captain because now, apparently, Steve doesn’t need much sleep at all. Bucky is glad for it, is glad that he’s less likely to catch a chill and die - but he almost finds he misses Steve curled on their ratty old couch in their shitty tenement wrapped in every blanket they own and several of his own sweaters as well as Bucky’s. He’ll never see that again, and there’s a sort of mourning attached to it that he can’t help.

Tonight though, Bucky is shivering. He can’t sleep because every time he closes his eyes he can hear them talking, mixtures of German and Russian. He started off not knowing what they were saying, but after an indeterminate amount of time spent listening he thinks he started to understand. If he’s right, he’s the only one that they’d run their sick ‘experiment’ on who hadn’t died in some horrible way. Thankfully the details eluded him, but it’s still an awful thought - and between that and the cold it’s not going to be a restful night.

As he lies there, listening out for any noise - and he swears that he can hear better now too though he’s not completely sure - he hears the door of the tent opening, and Steve’s head appears, looking over him with that concerned expression he so often wears now where Bucky is involved.

“Hey Buck,” he says, voice soft enough not to wake Bucky if he isn’t already and Bucky sort of appreciates the tenderness of it.

“Hey Stevie,” he says softly, and rolls, glancing up and seeing a fond smile spread across his friend’s face - a face which is finally actually large enough that his nose doesn’t look too big for it anymore.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks and Bucky sighs and shakes his head. He doesn’t want to tell Steve about the nightmares - doesn’t want to tell anyone, actually. Nightmares are to children, not grown men who have wars to fight, even if he knows that the guys know and he knows he’s not the first.

“Cold again,” he admits quietly and Steve breathes out, the puff of air forming steam in front of his face almost like it’s trying to prove the point for them.

“Okay, well…” he pauses, glancing at Bucky like he’s scared that whatever he’s about to suggest might break him. “I uh, I got a few minutes before I’m taking Gabe off his watch - he’s beat and I can keep going… I… could try and warm you up a little before I go? Then you can have my sleeping bag as well as yours if it helps?”

Bucky sighs out. He shouldn’t need this, but he’d spent a lot of years telling Steve’s stubborn ass off when he refused help that he clearly needed when the New York winters set in and the crappy windows didn’t keep out the draughts and they didn’t have the money to run the heat all night like they really needed to.

“Thanks, Steve,” he says after a couple of moments and he sees that dork in front of him smile like an idiot as he slides inside the tent doors.

“M’gonna leave this a little open, just in case they need me,” he says and Bucky nods, watching him fix it so that not much wind can get in, but so that they’re not completely sheltered either.

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Bucky whispers, feeling Steve move in, loosening his boots and leaving them at the foot of the ‘bed’ and climbing in, moving around and curling behind Bucky in the end, spooning him.

These days Steve was the walking, talking equivalent of a furnace and as soon as the residual coolness from outside left his clothes, Bucky could feel it seeping in and he relaxed, burrowing backwards. Well, the door might be open but the guys knew they slept in the same tent, and it wasn’t like anything was going on beyond keeping warm. It was fine, really.

Bucky feels himself relax against it, the sensation of being close to Steve familiar and comforting even if his body shape and size are different now. A large arm comes and rests over his waist, holding him close and he feels Steve’s warm, even breaths puff against the back of his neck.

“Okay?” Steve asks then and Bucky nods, shifting a little to make sure there’s enough space and to give Steve some sleeping bag to cover himself.

Except, that’s when he notices.

“Steve, is that…?” he asks, shifting his hips and hearing Steve make an adorable, half-embarrassed noise.

“Sorry Buck, I know, it’s just it’s… oh god it’s so sensitive these days. I swear to god a good stiff breeze is enough to get me up these days, and with you around as well…” he moans out softly as Bucky shifts again, deliberately brushing against it this time.

“It’s… it’s kind of bigger as well, isn’t it?” he asks curiously, moving softly against it. “And wait, you have this problem a lot, big guy?”

Steve is blushing, Bucky knows it without even having to look and he’s nodding. “Yeah, Buck. And sometimes it just won’t go, you know?”

Something about the admission, the fact Steve’s been hiding massive boners as they’ve been making their way through Europe lights a fire inside of Bucky. “Okay, well… I know this is probably situational but…”

Steve freezes then, stock still. “Buck?” he asks dumbly.

“Come on, tactical genius, you know what I’m saying,” he says lightly, and grinds his hips back again, and shit that is a lot bigger than it was. It’s bigger, and Bucky wants it, wants to try it out, especially when it’s reliably hard and shows no signs of going down, which he supposes makes sense given Steve’s heart is all fixed up.

“Oh, Buck,” he gasps softly, and then yes, thank god he’s getting with the program because he’s pressing soft, gentle kisses to the back and side of Bucky’s neck that he can reach. “I didn’t know if you still wanted… I mean, I’m not exactly your little Stevie now, you know?”

“Punk, you’ll always be my little Stevie, now come on,” he whispers, slightly harshly, but it’s enough to snap Steve out of it. “I wanna test out the new hardware.”

“Hard is kind operative,” Steve murmurs, pawing at Bucky’s torso now, those large hands he’s got now no less dexterous than they’d been when they were smaller and thinner as he rucks up his shirt and starts fiddling with his pants.

Bucky decides then that he needs to help - they don’t have long if Gabe is already struggling to stay awake - and gets them off in double-quick time, pushing them down so they’re pooled somewhere around his knees as Steve does the same to his own.

“Gonna have to be vaseline, Buck, don’t have slick out here,” he murmurs, that mouth still all over Bucky’s neck, kissing and sucking, just hard enough to be pleasurable in the way Steve knows Bucky likes, but without leaving any visible marks.

“We’re gonna have to rectify that. Next time we’re near a town,” Bucky promises but really, right now he’s totally consumed with want and need and he just wants his man inside of him and if it’s a slightly rougher ride and he suffers tomorrow then so be it.

Thankfully Steve is clearly on the same page, and whilst Bucky can feel the tip of his hard cock rubbing against his ass cheek he can feel his fingers at his entrance, circling before the first one is in. He gasps softly, letting out a low moan - it’s been too long and it feels so goddamn wonderfully tight even to him, though immediately Steve’s other hand comes and he presses it against Bucky’s mouth.

“Shh now Buck, I know it feels good baby, want you to feel so good, but you’re going to have to be quiet. We got no idea how close the others are,” he whispers and Bucky nods, understanding but seriously doubting whether or not he’ll actually be able to keep his side of the bargain or not.

And then he’s back to it and he’s working quickly, but somehow the burn and the ache and the sting is healing itself faster than it ever has and Bucky finds that he doesn’t care because despite the difference in size those fingers move right and for the first time since the lab in Azzano he feels good.

Steve’s hips are moving now, gently grinding up against his ass and Bucky knows he needs that friction and he can’t wait until he’s getting it from inside of his body. The fingers are good, but already he feels greedy - he wants to be fuller.

He knows he’s panting and moving against Steve, trying to show him what he wants, especially when Steve’s fingers reach that extra sensitive spot and he cries out again, Steve’s hand clapping against his mouth once more.

“Shhh, Buck, remember,” he says, slipping in the third finger as he does and Bucky moans before sucking one of Steve’s fingers into his mouth and lavishing it with his tongue, feeling himself dribble on his chin, but he doesn’t care - the choked noise that Steve makes in response is worth it and his hips stutter.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he whispers then and Bucky can’t help but whimper around the fingers, especially when he feels Steve rock back just enough to manage it and hears the slightly sticky sound of him slicking himself out.

And then he is, the blunt head of his cock dipping between Bucky’s ass cheeks where his hand had just been and it’s so big and so warm and Bucky fucking loves it, loves the careful way that Steve pushes into him as if he’s actually scared that he might break Bucky this time. His mouth is hot, sucking softly on the join between Bucky’s neck and his shoulder and he feels his hard cock throb, overtaken by all of the sensations and sucking on Steve’s fingers like his life depends on it not to make a sound.

It feels like it takes way too long now for Steve to finally bottom out, for his hips to be flush with Bucky’s ass, but it feels so full and so good and Bucky isn’t sure what to even make of it, because somehow, this monster cock Steve has gained is apparently capable of brushing every sensitive spot inside of him and it’s so much...

Bucky immediately knows that he wants more.

Now.

Thankfully, Steve seems to be on the same page and he slowly begins to move, working a rhythm easily now and he’s pushing harder than he could before - deeper - and it’s a lot. Even with Steve’s hand against his mouth Bucky can’t be quiet.

“Shit, Buck, it’s almost like you want us to get caught… or do you? Oh fuck, that’s so hot…” Steve is murmuring now and of course this is setting off whatever exhibitionism kink he has, and really, Bucky likes it.

Besides, their tent is pitched a short distance from the guys and they should be on watch if they’re awake. It should be fine, he figures and lets himself go, the frisson of excitement he feels himself at really doing this - tent flap technically open and all - is huge. He has to take a sharp breath, willing himself not to come everywhere just at the thought of it.

“Oh, you do, oh god Buck, I thought you might back on our fire escape… you know, when I was three fingers deep and oh god you felt tight then, but it’s nothing on how you feel right now…” he’s saying now, and Bucky wonders in the moment whether he should be the one telling Steve to shut the fuck up… but the thing is, he doesn’t want to. He loves Steve Rogers’ dirty mouth, loves hearing how good he is and how good he feels, and if that makes him a slut then so be it.

“You think I was ever gonna forget that, Stevie?” he asks, chucking in the nickname because he knows what that does, and Steve doesn’t let him down, hips pushing in deeper as he rips his hand away from Bucky’s mouth to hold onto his own hips.

“Oh god, Buck,” he whimpers, pushing in harder now, little short, sharp pumps of his hips, but he’s so deep in anyway and it’s still overwhelming. If Bucky was honest he’d had a few concerns and misgivings about the new-and-improved Steve (mainly because he didn’t think that the old Steve needed any improvement whatsoever) but this - this is worth it.

“Yes, Stevie, yes, right there, right there…” he’s gasping out now, letting out little aborted moaning noises as he catches himself, knowing they’re really pushing it now and pressing his face into his shitty army-issue pillow like the pillow-biter he is.

“Yeah? Yeah, you like that? Oh god, you really… oh!” he manages, and then stills, clearly listening out.

Bucky lets out a shuddering breath, forgetting himself entirely as he pushes back all the same, unable to help himself because he’s so close right now and he just wants to fall over the edge into the oblivion of pleasure that he knows is waiting….

“Uh, Sarge, is everything okay in there?” Comes a familiar voice - Jim Morita, a Japanese-American soldier that Steve had chosen for the Howling Commandos. And Bucky knows that Morita is a good guy, he really is - he’s here checking on him because he knows about the nightmares, for god's sake - but right now he wants to strangle him.

“Nothing to worry about here, Morita, we’ve got it covered,” Steve assures him in his best ‘Captain America’ voice and something about it and the fact that Steve’s hips are actually still moving - soft, small movements that Bucky feels in his very core even if they’re not enough to rustle the sheets too much.

“I uh… right, Cap, sorry, didn’t realize you were with Sarge…” he says unsteadily as if he knows something is going on, though realistically Bucky knows he probably doesn’t, not really.

“Everything okay out there?” Steve asks then and he’s moved, Bucky realises, is pushing in at a different angle and oh… oh no…

Oh yes.

Bucky doesn’t hear Morita’s answer, or more accurately, he entirely fails to comprehend it because Steve pushes in one more triumphant thrust as if he knows exactly how close Bucky is and hits that one spot which makes Bucky let out a strangled noise pressing his face into the pillow even harder as he balls his fists helplessly in the sleeping bag fabric around them as he comes hard for the first time in weeks - the first time since before Azzano when he’d managed to grab a few quiet minutes alone, thinking about spitfire blonds who can apparently gain the body of a god overnight.

He feels Steve tense then, pushing in deep, and he can practically hear his teeth grinding as he comes too, somehow being much quieter than Bucky - though really, Bucky had always been the vocal one - before clearing his throat.

“Okay, give me ten, soldier. I’ll come out and relieve the both of you,” he says decisively and Bucky wants to thump him for being able to sound so goddamn calm and collected, except that he knows that’s a terrible idea, it would probably bruise his hand these days with all that muscle.

*****

“I’m not touching you until you’ve washed. You’ve got… whatever this is all over you!” Bucky complains, poking at a spot of what is quite probably alien goop on the chest of Steve’s uniform. “In fact, before I even let you near my bathtub covered in that, you’re going in the lake. Come on.”

Steve can’t help but laugh a bit at his reaction but once Bucky has gathered clean clothes for both of them and towels, he dutifully follows him down the short path from his little hut down towards the clean, cool lake - and even Steve has to admit it looks pretty damn inviting right now.

“Off. All of them off,” Bucky says, motioning to Steve’s clothes and he raises an eyebrow in response.

“What, all of them?” he asks and Bucky nods.

“Yes. You act like I’ve never seen you naked before. And don’t act like you don’t like the idea of other people seeing you that way. You forget, I know,” he says with a cheeky grin that only makes Steve grin back like the lovesick dope that he is.

“Right but uh…” he starts and Bucky shakes his head.

“Nudity isn’t as big a deal here. You haven’t got anything they haven’t seen before,” he points out, before promptly stripping himself off, and really - Steve can’t argue with that, but actually, he’s not concentrating on what’s being said at all anyway.

No, the view he has right now is… beautiful.

Of course, Bucky has always been beautiful to Steve. Back in Brooklyn he was always taller and broader and had that athletic build from running track and boxing, though he’d always been a touch too thin. Then, later, in the war he’d looked haunted and really, those army rations didn’t feed anyone properly, much less someone fighting on the front line. And really, Steve wasn’t even going to go near what Bucky had looked like when he’d come back from HYDRA...

But now, maybe for the first time since Steve had known him, Bucky looks truly healthy. He’s facing away from Steve, towards the water, and there’s meat on his shoulders, not just raw muscle. His waist is thicker than Steve’s own and his ass… well. Steve wants to draw it more than anything in the world right now, but instead of that he commits the image to memory, knowing he can later. It’s round and peachy and leads down to the most gorgeously thick thighs and it’s not that Bucky is chubby - he can’t be with the serum running through his veins - but he’s thick.

It makes Steve’s cock twitch immediately, which isn’t great when he’s about to strip down, but he figures who can blame him?

He gets the various zips and buttons and catches to the damn uniform undone and gets his boots and the rest of it off before following Bucky. He can see why he’d like this - aside from the obvious benefit of getting clean it’s good to feel the sun on his skin and he strolls down, watching Bucky’s eyes darken and giving him a coy grin as he does.

“See something you like?” he asks cheekily, wondering what the response will be.

“You know I do,” Bucky replies easily, giving him a smile. “Now, get in deep, you’re still covered in crap.”

“Alien intestines, we think. Did you know if you throw a shield at giant genetically engineered maggots they explode? It’s pretty messy,” he says conversationally, as calm as if they were discussing what to have for dinner instead of the very strange and very messy mission that Steve had just returned from.

“Great,” Bucky replies in a tone that suggests that he thinks it’s anything but great before he wades in further. “Come on, let me try and wash some alien guts out of your hair.”

And really, that’s not an offer Steve wants to refuse - a hair wash means Bucky touching him and right now that’s all his touch starved ass wants in the world. His visits since the Wakandans undid whatever HYDRA left inside of his brain have been nowhere near frequent enough, even if he’s here - home, his brain supplies - whenever he’s not on a mission and not required for a debrief.

He wanders further before bending his back towards Bucky as he lets him carefully use the warm lake water to rinse out his hair with all the care and attention that he can and massaging his scalp at the same time. It makes Steve soft, relaxed and almost purring, especially when Bucky carefully maneuvers and starts to take care of the grime that must be on his face, using his thumbs to rub careful circles over his skin.

At home, with three younger sisters to worry about, Bucky had always gravitated to a sort of ‘caretaker’ role and Steve couldn’t help but think how wonderful it was to see him coming back to that on his own terms and owning it.

He lets his eyes fall closed for a few seconds enjoying the sensation and the quiet that there is here. Steve wouldn’t swap New York for anything - it’s still where he comes from, after all - but it’s so different now and even louder than it was when he knew it well. There’s something peaceful about the only sounds being the water of the lake and the local wildlife - with the occasional bleating of Bucky’s goats, of course.

“Enjoying that?” Bucky asks softly, and Steve can hear the smile in his voice without having to open his eyes and see it.

“Of course,” he replies, still focusing on the feeling of those hands on him.

“Now you know why I was okay with it when you had to do this for me,” he says quietly, and Steve can’t help but smile a little at the memory, even if it’s bittersweet. When he’d first been back Bucky had been a bit of a shell - he wasn’t really taking care of himself, not really beyond making it so he was able to function - and Steve had gladly stepped into this role, even if Bucky hadn’t really known him all of the time.

“Yeah,” he says softly, before grinning. “And now you definitely don’t have a problem when I touch you.”

Bucky chuckles and the sound is wonderful, almost warming Steve as much as the sun on his skin, but in the opposite way - from the inside out.

“Yeah, I do - when you’re not covered in alien intestines,” he adds, teasingly and Steve can’t help but laugh, too.

“Does it mean that I can touch you now I’m not, though?” he asks, managing to keep his tone mock serious, a smile on his lips.

“I’d better check first - if you got that much gross on your face and in your hair, who knows where else you’re hiding it?” he asks, tapping Steve’s shoulder so that he stands back up, and before he even knows it both hands - metal and flesh - are on him.

Bucky starts at his shoulders, rubbing over them, before sliding down to his forearms, feeling over those and then sliding back up and onto his chest. He moves slowly, as if feeling for dirt he can’t see, and all Steve can do is stare at his face as he does it - so it’s a shock when he feels those metal digits against his nipple and he gasps softly.

“Why am I not surprised that you like that?” Bucky murmurs, though he’s smiling as he does.

“Because you know me way too well,” Steve replies, before leaning in and kissing him gently. He half expects some resistance, but instead Bucky sighs into it and kisses him back, sliding his flesh hand down Steve’s side to his hip and pulling him in closer, pressing their hips together.

Steve smiles into the kiss, feeling the beginnings of Bucky’s arousal pressed against his own and deepens the kiss, bringing one hand up to put his fingers through Bucky’s long, thick hair, and sliding one to that ass - because he might be enhanced these days but he’s still a human and there’s something about the curve of it in his palm that sets everything inside of him on fire.

He grips slightly at the flesh, squeezing at it and Bucky moans into his mouth, the softest of sounds and really, Steve feels it on his tongue more than he actually hears it, but it’s enough to have Steve’s cock filling more and he pushes his hips into Bucky’s, getting that soft noise again for his trouble.

“Do you wanna?” he asks, pulling back and Bucky looks at him like Steve’s the biggest idiot in the world (and maybe he actually is).

“Of course I wanna - come here, you punk,” he replies, metal hand going to the back of Steve’s head now and pulling him in and kissing him deeper this time, Steve shivering softly as he feels Bucky’s tongue enter his mouth.

In return, Steve grips tighter, encouraging Bucky to put one of those gorgeously thick thighs up and around his waist, which Bucky does and they both gasp softly into the kiss because it changes the angle, giving them more pressure where they’re both hard. For a fleeting second Steve wonders if Bucky would prefer to get back to his hut to do this, but Steve sort of wouldn’t for one thing, and for quite another they’re both hard now and super serum enhanced boners are way more difficult to get rid of if you’re not going to do anything about them.

For a few languous minutes they stand there simply kissing and grinding and it’s wonderful, really, but it’s not enough.

“Sorry Steve, but I gotta…” Bucky murmurs as they pull away, panting hot breath onto the side of Steve’s neck as he does. Steve pauses for a second, wondering what he means, before Bucky’s moving his other leg and really, thank god for the serum because Steve can still support him, putting one arm around his waist and keeping the other where it is and hoisting him up, Bucky doing some of the work by clinging to Steve’s shoulders and wrapping the other leg around his waist too.

Once settled, they’re kissing again, and Steve knows what he has to do. He moves his fingers, and gently starts to stretch Bucky, before finding something else.

“Buck, is there already lube here?” he asks, running a finger around the rim of Bucky’s hole and feels the water of the lake but also something thicker and more slippery.

Bucky grins at him before nodding. “Figured there might be a chance for a little something like this so I prepared.”

“You set this up,” he says, a little incredulous but so in love with the man wrapped around him like some sort of spider monkey that it’s ridiculous as he pushes his fingers inside anyway,

“Mmm, well, you might be the man with the plan but I’m allowed to have them too,” he replies, mouth moving and sucking hard against the little spot right below Steve’s ear that always makes him the weakest.

“Come here, you sneaky little…” he murmurs, manhandling Bucky entirely, loving the fleshy feel he has now rather than being skin and bone - he looks and feels like he’s been cared for which in Steve’s view is exactly how he should look.

Bucky just makes a soft purring noise, letting himself be moved and not reacting at all when Steve starts to walk them backwards towards the shore of the lake before bending and putting Bucky down on the bank. Alright, it’s probably not the most sanitary place they’ve had sex, and it’s definitely the most open, but it’s not like either of them can catch anything and it’s not like there being potential to be seen has ever done anything to either of them before now except fire them up more.

Bucky grins at him lazily. “Now you got me here, what are you gonna do next, Punk?” he asks, that lazy Brooklyn drawl he’d favoured way-back-when coming out more now than Steve has heard it in a long time - he loves it.

“You, Buck. I’m gonna do you,” Steve promises him, leaning down and kissing him deeply and listening to Bucky moan into his mouth.

“Thank fuck for that,” he replies and he’s spreading his legs so that Steve can really get in between them and he’s pulling Steve down between them, the movements aided by the face that whilst Bucky’s head is out of the water, their lower bodies are still mostly submerged.

He angles himself and lines Steve up, Steve gasping out as he feels the tip of his cock meet the lube between Bucky’s cheeks - and it’s so much warmer than the lake water surrounding them. The sensations, along with the mental image he still has of Bucky in his little hut preparing himself for exactly this, make him shudder softly before he does what he knows Bucky wants and gently pushes himself in.

Bucky lets out a noise of his own, soft and wanting and oh, Steve thinks - he’s going to be loud today.

He moves a little closer, using his body strength to keep himself close despite the drag of the water and pushes in fully, seating himself as Bucky moans out.

It’s clear that this isn’t just a quick fuck - this is fucking making love if Steve Rogers ever saw it, and he knows he needs to make it clever that he very much loves this beautiful man beneath him and everything about him. Bucky opens up beautifully, throwing his head back and exposing his neck and Steve marvels for a second that he’s able to be this open with him - this vulnerable, especially after everything.

He begins to move, pushing in and then pulling out and listening to the way Bucky breaths and sighs and moans at him, dragging him down for long, filthy kisses in between.

Steve is completely taken up and buries with BuckyBuckyBucky by this stage and he fucking loves it, loves losing himself in the euphoria of fucking the only man he’s ever goddamn loved - hell the only person-

“I want you to know that I am not looking at what you are doing and that I do not want to!” Comes a voice, and Steve looks up, pulling away from Bucky’s mouth with a lewd sucking noise. For a second, Bucky looks confused, and then his eyes widen, horrified. “I can hear enough to tell you that it is not of interest!”

“Ayo?” Bucky calls in response and Steve makes a frustrated noise, struggling not to move his hips, something about it reminding him of a cramped tent in the alps in the war.

“Yes! Do not tell me what you are doing - and do not think I will ever forget how you subjected me to this!” she replies, her voice coming from somewhere near Bucky’s goat shelter. “I am only here to pass the message that King T’Challa requests an audience with Mr Rogers at his earliest convenience, which I am assuming will not be for a while!”

“I… yeah…” Bucky replies, and Steve can see him squirming, except he’s squirming right onto his dick and it’s making it throb.

“I am leaving! We will discuss this tomorrow!” she calls and even from her voice it’s clear that she’s moving away already… not that Steve blames her.

“We just got caught by one of the Dora Milaje with your dick in me,” Bucky says, looking at Steve, the pretty pink colour still high on his cheeks, making Steve want to lean down and kiss it better, which he starts to do immediately.

“Not the first time, not really,” Steve pointes out and Bucky’s breath leaves him in a puff that sounds suspiciously like a laugh.

“No, I guess not,” he says, before looking at Steve more determinedly. “Well, damage is done - what’s say we carry on?”

“Like you don’t enjoy that the damage is done,” Steve chidies and Bucky grins boyishly at him, even looking more like himself than he has in years - albeit a much longer haired version with a beard.

“I didn’t say that. And besides, I know you do, I can feel the evidence pulsing in my ass right now,” he replies cockily and Steve can’t argue. No, instead he starts fucking him in earnest.

*****

To Bucky, it’s fairly obvious that this HYDRA base they’ve found is a bust right from the moment they get inside. He vaguely remembers something about this place, knows that it has been active at some point in the last seventy years, and yet… nothing. Which probably means it’s inconsequential.

He knows that Steve wishes he wouldn’t come on these missions, but even when you include Natalia into the calculation, Bucky knows HYDRA best. He knows what their tells are, knows what they’re likely to have left, and knows when things are a bust.

And this, in his professional opinion, is a bust.

He and Steve are walking through a very clearly trashed and unsalvageable lab of some kind, complete with creepy brainwashing chair - which really, that explains why Bucky thinks he might have been here before, that’s probably what he was here for - whilst Clint and Wanda are going through the other wing.

It’s clear the place is deserted, has been for a while, and it’s so deserted that Bucky isn’t even bothering to walk quietly. He’s been working on making sound when he moves, he might as well use this as practice.

“Buck, seriously, what are you doing?” Steve asks him, sounding more than a little exasperated.

“Making noise. There’s nobody here, Steve,” he says simply, opening a cupboard and finding it empty besides a single pill bottle - also empty. “So as far as I can see it, it really doesn’t matter?”

“Look, there might be, or there might be some security…” Steve starts, but Bucky shakes his head.

“No, there really isn’t. They wouldn’t go tothe effort of destroying this place quite like this if they were ever going to use it again or if there was anyone here or if there was anything useful still here. Trust me, it’s a dead base. Anything that isn’t defunct will have been moved to somewhere else already,” he says, crossing his arms.

Steve sighs. “Were you always this insubordinate?”

“You know I was, Captain,” he says, and the effect the word from Bucky’s lips has on Steve is immediate and obvious - or it is at least to Bucky’s eyes. “Oh, I see.”

“See what?” Steve asks, though it’s a play, and not a good one at that.

“Do you want to punish me, Captain?” he teases, and he knows they crawled in here through a vent - Clint’s idea of course - but it left Steve crawling along behind Bucky who’d led them, staring directly at his ass for the better part of fifteen minutes. “I know how you look at my ass these days.”

And of course, he does. Steve has never been subtle in anything, least of all his enjoyment of Bucky’s body. Bucky knows that he likes the way it’s thicker now than it was even when they were young, likes the curse of his ass. He’s bitten it enough times - which Bucky loves too - and palmed at it when Bucky slides into his lap to make out with him.

“So what if I do?” Steve challenges and really, it’s the wrong thing to say. Bucky already knows from being in this room for more than thirty seconds that there is no surveillance here and there’s no threat. Clint and Wanda will be busy for a while - they have time.

“Well, get over here and do it,” Bucky says nonchalantly, wondering if Steve will, though he immediately realises that he should have known better than to wonder.

Steve advances, almost stalking towards him. “That’s what you want, isn’t it, you slut? You want me to spend my time down here giving you a good seeing to?” he asks, voice low and dangerous, though instead of giving Bucky any sort of fear reaction it makes a shiver of want run down his spine.

Bucky doesn’t respond to Steve’s words but his breath hitches, and that’s enough. Steve knows him well enough for that.

“What to do, though? That’s always the question, isn’t it?” he asks, as if he’s pondering aloud, though if Bucky knows Steve it wouldn’t matter what he says here, his mind must be made up already.

“I think I’m gonna eat you out,” he decides, pausing for a reaction and Bucky turns, wide eyes looking right back into those cobalt blue ones.

“You’re gonna…. here?” he asks, not sure if Steve’s actually serious because for all his bravado they’re still in an old HYDRA base and eating him out is so goddamn intimate... and Steve knows what a mess Bucky is after he’s done that.

And yet, now he’s advancing on Bucky, his hulking form towering over him and despite the fact that Bucky is of a thicker build, he towers somehow… and Bucky - well, he loves it. He feels his breathing speeding as Steve comes closer, his heart doing the same and the plates in his metal arm whirring and realigning the plates as it does.

“Pants down, Buck,” he says before he’s leaning down and giving Bucky a searing kiss that makes his toes curl in his combat boots - which is something that Soldat would never have done. The knowledge of that gives Bucky some satisfaction and nudges his hands to the various zippers at the front of his combat pants as he undoes the button and the various zippers keeping them up and closed.

“You’re seriously going to do this, aren’t you?” He checks, though he hopes that Steve is because already his dick is responding, filling in the confines of his pants because really, it’s not often that Steve is the one down on his knees but when he is he does this and it’s a beautiful thing. He loves eating ass as much as Bucky loves sucking cock, and that, Bucky can happily attest, is a whole damn lot.

“I am,” Steve replies simply, and Bucky can feel Steve’s fingers on the belt loops, which he gives a sharp tug downwards, exposing Bucky’s underwear which he gets rid of using a very similar method.

He’s manhandling Bucky now, roughly kissing him before he’s turning him and bending him over the damn chair, and it should be fucked up, it really should - even Bucky with his scrambled eggs for brains can recognise that - but somehow it isn’t. Something in his brain lights the fuck up, because the idea of a memory he actually likes on one of those chairs… yeah. Somehow, despite everything, he can get behind that.

Bucky feels it as Steve knees, feels the heat of his breath against his ass cheeks and then his palms against them. Unable to help himself Bucky lets out a soft gasp and then a small moan because he knows what happens next.

And then it does.

Steve pulls apart his cheeks and now his hot breath isn’t against Bucky’s ass cheek, it’s against an area a whole lot more intimate - a part of Bucky that despite their exhibitionist tendencies nobody else had ever seen. And Bucky was damn glad about that.

And then it’s not just his breath - it’s his mouth, his beard scraping against the most sensitive skin that Bucky has and Bucky fucking loves it, loves that he’ll be feeling it for days to come and he can’t quite keep himself quiet.

Steve has only licked him there once, and Bucky’s already making soft noises, which is what makes Steve pull back and laugh softly, the puffs of warm breath making Bucky shiver anew. “Always gonna love this, aren’t you baby?”

Bucky just mewls in response before Steve’s back there and the hot heat against that private area again and his tongue is there and really, Bucky knows he’s lost to sensation completely, bent over the top of the examination chair as he is.

And really, he should know to listen out for things. They’re in a goddamn old HYDRA base for fucks sakes - if there’s anywhere that they should be being careful in, it’s here.

“Clint!’ Steve calls out suddenly, pulling away and making Bucky moan wantonly with the loss, wanting that pressure back because he’s been grinding his hips, partly into Steve’s face because he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that Steve doesn’t mind, and partly down onto the chair because his dick is hard enough to cut glass and he needs some goddamn relief.

“Clint, do not come down here, the place is a bust, get yourself and get Wanda and get back to the quinjet!” he calls, and then without waiting for an answer he’s pressing his face right back where it was, making Bucky fucking mewl and he doesn’t come up for air again until Bucky comes all over that goddamn chair.

The quinjet on their way home is weirdly quiet, even Barton apparently deciding to keep his mouth shut for the first time in his life.

Bucky… can’t quite bring himself to be embarrassed.

*****

So by the time Tony catches them, it’s a known-but-not-talked-about thing that Steve likes to do Bucky and he really doesn’t care too much about the location. Steve isn’t sure if they’ve figured out it's actual exhibitionism yet, but he’s pretty sure in his own mind that it is by this stage. Hell, it’s been going on since the 1930’s.

Either way, when it finally happens, it’s on the communal floor of The Avengers Tower.

If Steve felt the need to make an excuse, he’d say it was a quiet afternoon and they didn’t expect to be disturbed, which was completely true, but really, he feels like they’re beyond excuses at this stage.

Either way, right now he’s got Bucky pressed against one of the floor-to-ceiling windows that looks out over New York City,his pants pooled around his ankles. His hands are pressed flat against the glass surface and Steve is deep, deep inside of him.

“Look at you, baby, just look - if they were looking the whole goddamn city would see how you look right now - and I know I should be jealous, baby, but I can’t be. Because all they get is to see how goddamn gorgeous you are like this, I get to be the one who does this to you,” he murmurs, letting his mouth run away with him once again because he knows what it does to Bucky.

Almost like it’s on cue, Bucky lets out a soft moan as his muscles tighten, and Steve uses the hand that’s on his cock to sharply squeeze the base, holding off his orgasm once again. Bucky lets out a whine and Steve kisses the back of his neck, almost like an apology, still grinding his own hips inside of his man deep and dirty, knowing he’s torturing Bucky’s prostate and equally knowing that Bucky fucking loves it.

“I know baby, but you’ve been so good. Soon, huh?” he asks softly, getting a soft noise as an answer and Steve can’t help but grin - if he’s gone non-verbal Steve has really ruined him this time, and Steve can’t help but be goddamn proud of that.

If Steve was paying any attention whatsoever to anything other than the gorgeous man he’s buried deep inside of, the way he sounds, and the fact that he himself is so goddamn close so how Bucky’s even holding back by now is beyond him, he’d have heard some noise. But he isn’t. Later he’ll admit that like this, watching the city go by as he rails Bucky into barely knowing his own damn name, he can lose hours.

Suddenly, the doors of the communal floor open and JARVIS’ voice rings out across the floor.

“I’m very sorry Sirs - I did try to stop… well, Sir but…” it’s then that Steve heard an absolutely horrified noise.

“Oh god no - NO!” Tony Stark’s voice comes clear and loud and shocked across the common area. “Are you serious right now? You guys have your own floor for crying out loud. I should know, I built it, and whilst Scott would love to see your ass Cap I am…”

Except once again Steve’s not listening.

He’s not listening because the shock of the noise and the interruption has caused him another, different issue. As the doors opened, he pushed forward, hard… hard against Bucky’s most sensitive area.

And right now Bucky is gasping, ringers curling just a little at the end and Steve can see him losing the fight - has seen this a whole bunch of times and even if he really shouldn’t be thinking this right now at this moment he’s as beautiful as he’s ever been. Every muscle inside of him tightens and his legs lock and Steve feels all of it because of how deep and how close he is as that how heat around his cock gets tighter and Bucky lets out the most erotic noise Steve’s ever heard and it’s happening… yes, it’s happening…

Steve watches as Bucky tightens a last time, his orgasm overcoming him and his cock jerking as he begins to come, the white liquid painting lines across that fucking obscenely large window as he does and really, Steve might have super serum and super strength but he’s only human.

Hearing and watching and feeling Bucky come like that, there’s only one possible outcome.

He pushes in as deep as he can possibly get, feeling his own orgasm finally overwhelm him after so long of denying himself, and he comes, deep inside of Bucky.

“Oh my god, Tony, I am so sorry…” he manages, because despite all of this Sarah Rogers drummed good manners into the both of them when they were young, and then he’s lost, his brain whiting out with pleasure as he empties himself into Bucky, moaning out his name and pressing soft, wet kisses to his neck as he does.

“Oh my god we are definitely talking about this later, once I’ve had this room cleaned and fumigated and the window cleaner has been at least six times - though I’m not convinced that’s going to help because sometimes what has been seen can never be unseen - and it turns out that includes come stains on your very expensive privacy windows…” he’s rambling now and Steve can’t help but smile because even after all that he’s not quite done as Bucky replies instead of him.

“Stark, get the fuck out,” he says, pressing himself back against Steve now.

“Rogers that, Sergeant,” Stark says, and scuttles out as quickly as he entered.

Steve knows that really, he should care more, should be bothered that they’re obviously never hearing the end of this, but all he can do right now is try and recover his brain function after coming possibly the hardest he’s ever come in his life, and wrap the man he loves in his arms as they mutually come down.

“I love you,” he murmurs into Bucky’s neck, pressing a kiss below his ear.

“I love you too, Punk. And your fuckin’ filthy exhibitionism kink,” Bucky replies, his voice soft, fond and loving.

“Our mutual exhibitionism kink, Jerk,” Steve corrects and he feels Bucky laugh as much as he hears it, still so deep and close as he is.

“Yeah, that one,” he replies, and Steve can hear the smile. He’s smiling, too.