Archive of Our Own

Bucky wasn’t sure exactly how it happened. He had stayed late at work with three other men for an overtime shift at the dockyard. For an extra two hours the group worked to finish unloading crates and set them aside for unpacking the next morning. The time went by quickly, even after hours of doing the same thing since eight in the morning. When it was all over the two married men left, leaving Bucky and another man around his age. He was a good guy, someone Bucky had shot the shit with during down time or during the occasional happy hour. Just another guy from the neighborhood. It must have been in the middle of spring because the snows had stopped but it was still cold at night- which was unexpectedly welcome when Bucky found himself on his hands and knees with his fellow dockman balls deep in his ass. 

He was getting fucked behind the same crates he had hauled hours before. Despite the sun having gone down and the docks being empty, Bucky choked back his moans, knowing that privacy was a pretense and any noise could still draw attention. That’s how it started. The details about how it started were blurry but the memories of what happened were clear as a bell; the slightly distracting pain of gravel pressing into his knees through his heavy work pants, the feeling of dirt and bits of wood under his palms, the dryness of his mouth as he alternated between gulping down breaths and shutting his mouth tightly to keep quiet. And that wasn’t even the actual feeling of the sex. Feeling a cock inside of him where it sure as hell shouldn’t be felt so good that Bucky had decided to let the perversion slide. 

That was how it started but not how or when it ended. They never talked about it. Clocked in, they were just two working stiffs doing the business man's labor. After hours, it was as simple as he and Bucky being the last two men to punch out at quitting time. It was more of the same, except on days Bucky brought his coat he laid it out under his hands to save his skin. Literally. 

That went on not quite regularly for a few months until the guy got hurt on the job. That was the last of him and Bucky thought that was the last of that. It was just a convenient way to blow off steam. There was always a reason- money was tight that week, his date didn’t pan out, foreman was being a dick- that made it reasonable for him to need something to take his mind off things. It was perfect, until it wasn’t. Standing at the docks, poignantly aware there was no one waiting for him, Bucky finally admitted that he didn’t need a reason to want to get fucked except he just damn well wanted to. 

But there were places men would be waiting for him; or if not him per say, at least open to the idea of his company. That’s how Bucky ended up in a shabby room above one of those seedy queer clubs, naked, with a cock deep in mouth. Not that he was some good time Girtie who dropped his pants for the first schmuck who winked at him. He cased the place, spending his first forays chatting up the regulars and getting comfortable. An easy smile here, a laugh there; he was happy to learn that his charms worked just as well on men as they did on women. Even before he took the plunge he found how easy it was when you found the (a) right person. No dancing around the issue or needing to go steady for a while for the sake of her (and maybe, if you cared about being an upstanding man one day, your) reputation. 

The man Bucky was on his knees for was picture star handsome with dark, combed back hair and espresso-colored eyes. The first time at the club was its own first time. Bucky was fully naked, for one, and even though it wasn’t “safe”, it was safer than having his ass out in the open with only the dark and crates as cover. Handsome also introduced him to getting properly prepared. At the dock, he had to settle for his co-worker just using globs of Vaseline from a tin he kept in his overalls for cuts. The guy slathered too much onto his cock and Bucky’s hole and didn’t do more than a bit of rubbing the area with his cockhead before slowly, so slowly , pushing in. Neither man had to say it; they both knew the luxury of time wasn’t something they had. Handsome had time. He could play with Bucky’s hole, tease it open with slicked fingers and make it so everything went in easy. It was like a different experience altogether. All of the pleasure with none of the pain. Not having to pick rocks out of his skin was another plus.

Bucky still went on his dates. As much as he loved cock, he also liked dancing. He also knew that behaving like a eunuch all of a sudden would make people talk. If he was with the sort of girlie who invited him into her apartment after a date, batting her eyelashes with impure thoughts in her head, he would simply give her a goodnight kiss and tell her she could do a hell of a lot better than him. He wasn’t a womanizer, and he certainly wasn’t a cad. He was just being truthful in a roundabout sort of way.

Maybe his heart was never really in it. He liked that girls were perfumed and that they liked him. He liked the ones who were witty and weren’t too serious, and if they could keep up with him on the dancefloor he was all for it. Soft lips were nice on any part of his body. And yet…

It was a tightrope of a social life but one that Bucky balanced like a pro. When he was on the docks with the boys he was one of the guys. He laughed with them and when the topic of the queers came up he’d play his part like some Shakespeaean thespian. He’d cringe and ponder out loud how any man could go googly-eyed over another fella let alone do anything else. How could anyone think about… let alone do any of that!?. Kissing? Sucking a prick like a dame? Add taking it up the ass to that secret list of things. 

One night he was bent over a loveseat in that same queer joint. He felt the wedding ring of his partner pressing into his hips deep enough to leave a perfect cast in his skin. His head was thrown back while his partner thrusted roughly. Since learning the magic of taking one's time Bucky found he liked it rough; the deep fill, someone else's hands gripping his flesh and hearing grunts with every forceful movement. This guy knew how to do it. He was giving Bucky the best fuck in a long time while his wife was at home getting supper ready for when he came from from overtime at work. When it was over they quietly got dressed and went their separate ways. When Bucky got home he was greeted by Steve’s warm smile and pleasantly asking how drinks with the guys from work went.

And there was Steve. The only problem Bucky had was lying to him. Really, it was no business of Steve’s how he spent his time or who was playing with his cock but dammit they were best friends. Lying felt rotten in general, but there was a reason that lying about this felt especially rotten. 

He had a thing for Steve. For years he didn’t know what it was aside from a thing. It started sometime in high school. Even when girls started giving Bucky the time of day he would still be thinking of Steve. Once in a while he could catch some uncovered skin when Steve was changing and he wondered why he wanted to see more. Even into adulthood Steve was the introspective one of the duo but Bucky wasn’t so thick as to not know who he really wanted to fuck him. The night he came home with a ring mark in his hip he told Steve that he had a great happy hour. 

Things were dry for a while. He was working a decent amount of overtime (really) and wanted to be at home more. Occasionally he would think it was all out of his system, like he finally sweated out some bastard fever, but then Steve would do something stupid like bend over to pick up a damn pencil or smile real nice or get into a scuffle where Bucky had to help clean his wounds. 

“I’m going to help Mrs. Gallo with her groceries,” Steve said one Saturday evening. 

“You’re an angel, Steve. You know that?” Bucky teased from their living room sofa. 

Steve sighed and took his keys from the hook by the front door. “She made us all that soup when we were put up with that cold a week ago. It’s the least I can do.”
Bucky popped up and rested his elbows on the top of the sofas back. 

“I guess you’re right. Need a hand?”

Steve shook his head, “No, when I talked to her yesterday she said she was just running out for a few things.”

As Steve opened the door Bucky said sincerely, “You’re saving the world, Rogers. One little old lady atta time.”

Steve rolled his eyes and unsuccessfully tried to hide the smile that crept onto his face. As if Steve could ever not do the right thing. At least this demonstration of his morals would mostly likely not end in a black eye.  

With Steve out the door Bucky was left by himself in the silence. Autumn had just about arrived and the sun was setting earlier every day. Bucky drummed his fingers on the top of the sofa. Even without a full grocery run he figured that he had about 30 minutes to himself. He tapped his fingers pinky to pointer while he mulled over what to do with the time. The idea that popped into his head wasn’t surprising. 

He got off the couch and went to lock the front door. With that taken care of he went to the bedroom he and Steve shared. He pushed the bedroom door closed except for a thin crack so he could hear the sound of Steve unlocking the front door when he eventually came home. The last rays of the sun warmly illuminated the room. He fluffed his pillow before laying down on his bed. He stretched and settled himself to get as comfortable as he could get on his not-incredibly comfortable bed. Ready, he slipped his belt out from it’s loops and unbuttoned his pants so he could reach in his underwear and pull his cock out. He wasn’t hard but his solution to that problem was a few quick, light jerks. He closed his eyes while he felt himself get hard in his hand. His strokes got longer with his length and in his mind he could see the subject of his deepest desires. 

He tightened his grip. He imagined he and Steve, naked, on a proper bed that was both big and plush. Their bodies rubbed together while they kissed. He visualized Steve’s hands running over his body and tried to imagine how good it would feel to have Steve pressed against him. The Steve in his head was whispering how badly he needed Bucky. 

Bucky felt himself getting close. He loosened his grip for faster strokes. In his fantasy he was outside of his body watching himself getting fucked by Steve.

“St-ugh!,” Bucky panted.

His hips were raised slightly off the bed as he chased his climax. Between breaths he moaned only a single word: “Steve”.

“Bucky.”

Bucky’s eyes shot open. The orgasm building between his legs stopped cold and was replaced by the feeling of his stomach dropping. The room had gotten dark but he could see Steve standing in the doorway backlit by the light coming from the living room. Steve’s jaw was slightly ajar and he looked tense, like an animal that wasn’t sure if it was going to fight or flee.

“Steve! I- I-”

Steve shook  his head and bolted back the way he came through the living room and out their front door not bothering to shut it.\

“Steve!” Bucky yelled as he put himself back in his pants and leapt off the bed. 

He ran to the living room, hurriedly shoved his feet in his shoes and tried to give chase. He was alternating between swearing loudly at himself and screaming Steve’s name, neighbors be damned. 

His feet were heavy and loud on the stairs as he took them two or three at a time. When he got to the bottom of the stairs onto the street he frantically looked around and tried to figure out what direction Steve went. He whipped around like mad and screamed Steve’s name with panic shaking his voice. A few passers by gave him dirty or confused looks while they went on their way but Bucky didn’t notice. He couldn’t notice and couldn’t care less. Steve was gone. 

Bucky felt his chest tighten to the point where he could barely breathe. His eyes were so wide it was almost painful. He felt ice cold but could feel himself sweating. If the Lord struck him down where he stood it would have been an improvement. He took a few small, chaotic steps one way and then doubled back with no input from his higher functioning. The voice in his head was screaming over the sound of his heart pounding. 

By the fifth set of paces he gave up. He had no idea where Steve was or if he’d ever come back. He turned his back to the street and made his way back up the steps of his building, going more numb with every step. Morosely, he dragged himself into the flat and shut the door but didn’t bother to lock it. He sat on the sofa and put his head in his hands. Never had he ever felt more helpless. There wasn’t a fucking thing he could do. He dug his fingers into his head but that didn’t help. He balled his fists and let out a guttural scream but that was just as ineffective at alleviating his suffering.

He fucked up. And he knew it. And every second Steve was gone just made it more apparent. 

Bucky laid down on the sofa. He wasn’t able to stomach going back into the bedroom; just the thought of it made him want to vomit. He closed his eyes but wasn’t tired, but the adrenaline was giving way to fatigue. The voice screaming in his head continued while he huffed and fought back tears. He was panting like a dog and trying to hold himself just together enough to not cry. Nothing he could do could help. The only thing that silenced the voices was sleep.

~

Bucky woke up to the sound of thunder. He opened his eyes and was greeted by the sight of the ceiling. The room was dim; the sun outside hidden by dark storm clouds. The first thought he had was about last night and how he still felt ill. In addition to that, his back ached from spending all night on the lumpy sofa. Rubbing his eyes, he stood up and turned to face the rest of the room. He blinked the last bit of sleep away and looked to the flat’s kitchenette and saw him. 

Steve, sitting at the table, held a mug in his hand, as if nothing had ever happened save for a morbid expression on his face. He looked at Bucky, unsurprised and without any change or movement. 

“You’re back,” said Bucky, whose voice was soft and relieved. 

“I do live here.”

It was supposed to be a lighthearted rib, an attempt at levity, but Steve’s deadpan delivery robbed the statement of that effect.  

“Of course you do,” Bucky’s words were just spilling from his mouth, “I just didn’t think you’d come back.”

His voice cracked sadly during that last statement. 

“I got back about an hour ago,” Steve said, not truly responding to what Bucky said. 

Bucky looked at the clock on the wall. It said 9:43. If it wasn’t for the circumstances he’d love to have slept in so late. 

“You were out all night?” asked Bucky. 

Steve nodded and took a sip from his mug. Bucky felt a knot tie itself deep in his gut. Terrible images flashed through his head of Steve sleeping in an alleyway or on some doorstep. All because he was disgusting. 

“Jesus, Steve,” Bucky said pathetically, “If I knew you were out on the streets all night I woulda-”

“Wait, what?,” more head shaking, “ No, dummy. I wasn’t sleeping on some park bench. I went to your Ma’s house.”

“My Ma?”

“Told her we had a fight and for once I did the smart thing and left to cool off. I spent the night in your bed.”

Knowing Steve had been safe all night made his gut knot loosen briefly before tightening back up. 

“What did you tell my Ma?”

Steve looked Bucky square in the eye and in that moment Bucky had the fear of God in him. As if the forces that be agreed, a loud thunderclap boomed. 

“You really think I’d tell your Ma about what really happened? After all our years of friendship shouldn’t you know better than that?”

There was pain in Steve’s voice and Bucky instantly regretted his question. It was stupid for him to even consider that Steve would tell a soul about what happened. It was excruciating how every little thing he did was wrong.

His voice was pleading, “I’m sorry, Steve. I didn’t mean it like that.”

There was another clap of thunder but much farther away. After that the sky was finally ripped open and the rain began to come down in sheets. The agonizing quiet between words was replaced with the pounding rain. 

“Did you really think I’d never come back?”

“I was afraid you wouldn’t. You just ran.”

A guilty flush rosied Steve’s cheeks. He tried to cover it up with another sip from his mug. When he put it back down he licked a lingering drop of coffee from his lips. He said, “I didn’t mean to be so dramatic. I was just really surprised, w’s all. Why don’t you sit down with me?”

The simplicity of the request took Bucky by surprise. He had no idea why on God’s green earth Steve would want to be so close to him. He took the seat across from his friend and put both hands on the table, as if the gesture signaled he wasn’t a deviant. Bucky opened his mouth to speak but the only thing he had in his head was just, “I’m sorry, Steve.”.

Steve shook his head. “I just caught you with your prick in your hand. Not much to be sorry for.”

The ever-present knot in Bucky’s stomach tightened again. Just his prick in his hand? For a split second Bucky wondered if he had blown this whole thing out of proportion and that his entire mental self-flagellation for nothing. But no. 

“Did...didn’t you hear me?”

“Hear you moanin’ my name?”

Bucky groaned, “So you did.”

“It was pretty hard to miss.”

Another deeply uncomfortable groan from Bucky. 

“Look,” he said, “Cards on the table. You heard what you heard. I ain’t gonna try and convince you otherwise. But I gotta tell ya, Steve- I didn’t ever want you to catch me like that. And when you ran I was afraid you’d never come back and that I lost my best friend in the world.”

His voice cracked towards the end and he shut his mouth despite having more to say. The only thing that kept him from going on was that he was afraid he’d say something wrong.

“I didn’t mean to scare you so badly,” said Steve, adding, “I really hope you’re not sore at me.”

If he wasn’t feeling lower than the floor Bucky could have cracked a smile at the absolute absurdity of what Steve just said. Of course Steve was worried that Bucky was the sore one. 

“No, never. Shit, I’m the fucking monster here thinking about you when I’m playing with myself.”

Steve released his mug and held his hands together on the table. His words were spoken clearly and carefully, “You’re not a monster, Buck.”

“Then what am I? Being queer might not be right but that don’t hurt anyone. But me thinking about you?"

He looked down at his hands on the table, fidgeting with his fingers as if he were a scolded schoolboy. He wanted to better articulate himself but before he had a chance to say more Steve had reached across the table and placed one of his hands on Bucky’s. Bucky’s head shot up to look at Steve, who’s expression was soft. Steve’s hand didn’t have the roughness or callouses of laboring men but wasn’t quite as soft as those rich boys who never did a manual task in their lives. His hand wasn’t big, but it was bigger than a woman's hand. With that perfect hand he gave Bucky’s hand a squeeze and repeated, “You’re not a monster, Buck.”

Dumbfounded and wide-eyed, Bucky didn’t know what to say. Something was different, the entire atmosphere in the room changed. 

“You’re not the only one thinking about someone the wrong way.”

Bucky couldn’t believe what he had just heard and was convinced he misunderstood. That thought, however brief, was a different kind of terrifying. 

“You… you mean you’ve been thinking-”

“Of you, Bucky,” said Steve plainly, “When I’m having my own alone time.”

The words and what they meant didn’t just go to Bucky’s brain, but also to his heart. Despite the heavy rain Bucky felt like he was suddenly bathed in some eternal sunshine that warmed him inside and out. The upset in his stomach was gone and he felt like he could never be sad again. 

Steve continued, “I really was surprised when I caught you, but I ran because I didn’t know what to do. It was like something outta my dreams, but what could I do?”

Bucky placed his other hand on top of Steve’s. He didn’t remember ever touching Steve’s hands, at least not since grade school when it was still ok for boys to hold hands. He felt how pronounced each knuckle was and how cool Steve’s skin naturally was. Bucky squeezed, feeling those boney knuckles press into his palm. 

No more hiding. Steve wasn’t gone, not even mad. The man was holding his hand! Bucky mustered his voice and spoke low and deadly seriously. If Bucky was brave just once in his life, he knew it had to be now. 

“When you saw me- if you had stayed… when you said what could you do... What did you wanna do?”

Steve smiled slightly at Bucky’s question, almost as if he didn’t quite understand what Bucky had said. But Steve was no monk. “I woulda liked to join you in bed. Swap your hand for mine.”

“Fuck,” Bucky’s voice was light and sounded like he was releasing a long breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

He gave Steve’s hand a harder squeeze and asked, “And what if I told you I wanted us to do a lot more than just that?”

“I woulda asked what you had in mind.”

Bucky leaned in closer and lowered his voice. He wasn’t worried about anyone overhearing, especially with the storm, but he wanted to keep his words close as if they only belonged between the two men. The words themselves felt rough in his throat and sounded just as rough in the air. “I want you to fuck me, Steve.”

Steve didn’t flinch but his eyes went wide. The statement hung in the space between the two and the invisible words seemed to radiate their own heat. The tense of Bucky’s statement wasn’t lost on Steve or Bucky.

“You really want me to fuck you?” asked Steve.

“Unless it’s too much and-”

“No,” Steve cut him off quickly, “I do. So much. I just never thought you’d want that.”

“I really do. But only you. All the other times-”

“Other times? You’ve been fucked before?”

That horribly familiar creeping cold came back just as icy as ever. He planned on taking those encounters to the grave but thanks to his big mouth it was all coming out. No ignoring it now. Bucky took a deep breath and explained, “I haven’t always been honest about where I’ve been.”

“You mean when you were out with the fellas from work?”

Bucky pulled his hands back and spread his fingers out over the table.. 

“It wasn’t every time. Alotta the time I really was with the guys or on a date or wherever I said I was.”

“But you have been fucked before.”

The words stung the second time and made Bucky wince. The words weren’t cruel and Steve’s tone was just matter-of-fact. But it still made Bucky feel like a good for nothing. Maybe that’s how he was supposed to feel about having sex with men. 

“Yeah. I have. A good amount of times.”

Bucky braced for a bad reaction but only had to handle Steve taking back one of his hands and clasping it between his own. Instinctively, Bucky coned his fingers over Steve’s digits. It was so simple yet intensely intimate, more than anything he had ever done with anyone else before. 

“I’m not mad,” Steve said, “Honest. Just wish you didn’t need to do all that sneaking around. But I can’t be mad at you. We didn’t know what each other was feeling. It woulda been nice having our first time together, but that’s not everything.”

Bucky felt like he was about to explode. 

“Goddamit, Steve, let me kiss you.”

Bucky lurched over the table and was just able to reach Steve’s lips for a gentle barely there kiss. It was so light, so brief that when Bucky pulled away he thought Steve might not have felt it. He was proven completely wrong when, like a lightning strike, Steve brought a hand to the back of Bucky’s head and pulled him in close for a more substantial kiss. Bucky was stretched uncomfortably into the edge of the table but the discomfort was more than worth it. 

When the kiss was finished Bucky was allowed to pull back and get a good look at Steve. He was smiling softly but his eyes had the unmistakable look of astonishment. Never missing a chance to give Steve a ribbing, Bucky asked, “What? Thought I’d want you to fuck me but not kiss you?”

What he said was snarky but the sentiment was sweet. 

“Guess you don’t have one without the other. At least with someone you like.”

Finally, finally, Bucky felt like everything was okay. He got up from his chair and walked over to Steve. Bucky towered over Steve and that was even truer when he stood over Steve still in his chair. It might have been comical, the idea that big Bucky Barnes would get plowed by small Steve Rogers. Bucky's partners were always around his size. Maybe a little shorter or taller or heavier or lighter but always in his range. 

“Please. Now.”

“Now.”

Steve got off his chair and started to walk towards their bedroom but was pulled into Bucky’s arms before he took more than three steps. Bucky held him tight, but not too tight, and kissed him- properly. Bucky could feel how slightly chapped Steve’s lips were and thought that he liked the slightly rough texture. He also found a new appreciation for Steve’s size. His friend was smaller than most, but didn’t feel like any dame. He was stiffer and not as soft and just felt like a man. Most importantly, however, he felt perfect in Bucky’s arms. Despite their differences in height and body type they slotted together like two puzzle pieces made for each other and each other alone. 

Emboldened by Steve pressed comfortably into his chest, Bucky slipped his tongue into Steve’s mouth. Steve pressed his tongue against Bucky’s and moaned into the other man’s mouth. The sound- the feeling- got Bucky hard. With the subtle shifts in movement from kissing came the sensation of his erection rubbing against his underwear. He adjusted his leg and serendipitously rubbed his cock against Steve and could feel the same hard flesh between his friend’s legs. 

Bucky licked his lips, looked deeply in Steve’s eyes and said, “You have no idea how much I need you.”

Steve nudged Bucky to move and they began making their way to the bedroom, but not before Steve replied, “I think I have a good idea.”

They moved in an awkward shuffle, Bucky still holding Steve close and their lips still being put to good use. The bedroom door was still open from the night before so they slipped right inside and only then did they break apart. 

Bucky made quick work of their beds. He pushed them together in the center of the room and laid their blankets over the center to add padding and fill the dip where the bedframes met. 

“That’s a good idea,” Steve said as he sat down on one of the beds.

“I don’t wanna do things wrong. Or half-assed,” replied Bucky, sitting next to him. 

They resumed their kissing. They got comfortable and sprawled out over the beds and it wasn’t long before Steve ended up rolling on top of Bucky and straddling his hips. 

“Tell me what to do,” he asked in almost a whisper in Bucky’s ear.

“Let me see you,” Bucky said while he rubbed Steve’s back, “Without all this on.”

Bucky eased up Steve’s shirt until Steve pulled it off and let it fall to the floor. Steve moved one of his arms in a way to try and cover himself but Bucky gently moved the arm away so he could continue to look. As his eyes gazed over uncovered skin his hands instinctively went to start undoing his pants. His cock was still restrained by his underwear but it was a start. Steve went to help him with his shirt and with Bucky shirtless Steve went to work on his own pants but didn’t get one button opened before Bucky took over. Steve’s pants were loose and unbelted so it was easy for Bucky to slide the garment down low enough to expose Steve’s underwear being tented by his erection. They helped each other finish disrobing until they were just in their shorts. 

Bucky pulled Steve into his chest and rutted into him causing Steve to let out a rough moan. 

“Tell me how we start.”

“I need to get myself ready. But there’s other stuff we can do.”

Bucky worked his underwear off before carefully making quick work to get Steve the same way. Completely nude the two men sat on the bed facing each other. Steve was leaning slightly forward with his arm resting on his knee. 

Little wasn't the right word for Steve. He was certainly thin and not tall, with smooth, almost hairless skin that was stretched over his sharpest points. But little implied a lightness that had nothing to do with weight. As small as Steve was and, frankly, as sickly as he could be he was always a force- of himself, of nature, of strength. 

“Bucky, you’re staring,” said Steve.

“How can’t I?”

Steve blushed but smiled. As much as Bucky enjoyed the view Steve was just as happy with what he saw. Bucky was handsome. Seven ways to Sunday, no doubt about it. Manual labor sculpted his muscles, as if dock work was a force of Michelangelo and Bucky was his stone. His complexion was healthy and his face had just the right angles that made his face masculine, but not brutish. If it wasn’t for last night his hair would be styled the way dames liked it with pomade that could withstand a wash or three. Even unstyled the natural waves in hair were attractive in their own right.

“Steve, you’re staring.”

Bucky smirked and Steve lightly hit him on the shoulder. It was dark in the room thanks to the heavy clouds and rain but what light shone through the dirty windows and thin curtains was enough. 

Bucky placed a hand on Steve’s hip as a starting point before gliding his fingers down Steve’s thigh. Steve flinched slightly which made Bucky stop. “Keep going,” Steve said quietly. So continued Bucky’s fingers, dragging down until they reached in between Steve’s legs over the slight prick of neatly trimmed hair. He got between Steve’s legs and propped himself up on his elbow. He curled his fingers into a fist at the base of Steve’s cock while he lowered his head and took the tip in his mouth. 

The second that Bucky closed his lips Steve gasped. Bucky’s mouth was warm and wet in a way Steve had never felt before. Not having any plans to stop with such a small amount, Bucky slid forward to take more of Steve until he reached his hand. Steve groaned and his hips slightly raised off the bed, much to Bucky’s delight. Steve felt so good in his hand and even better in his mouth. He started simultaneously sucking Steve’s cock and jerking off what wasn’t in his mouth. Steve tried to keep his hips down but couldn't always help the urge to push into Bucky’s mouth. Bucky happily took any slip, any push too far that he was given. 

At first Bucky kept his head down and eyes closed. He savored having his best friend’s cock in his mouth. Steve wasn’t the biggest and Bucky had sucked plenty bigger but Steve had plenty. More than size, Steve had a good shape. His cock was thinner than most but curved nicely upward just enough. 

Mouth full, Bucky looked up at Steve. Steve’s eyes were half-lidded and he was chewing his lip, desperately trying to keep the moans in his mouth. Even in the dimness the blue in Steve’s eyes shone like sparking sea water. 

“You can be louder,” Bucky said before going for a long lick on the underside of Steve’s cock, “Storms doin’ a’ helluva job of making noise.”

That was true. The rain and thunder hadn’t let up since it started. The regular booms and constant pelting of rain was a nearly perfect cover. With the license given, Steve moaned louder. He gently put his fingers in Bucky’s hair and asked, “You’ve done this a lot, haven’t you?”

“A decent amount. But that means I don’t gotta waste time practising.”

And with that comment Bucky stopped holding Steve’s cock and slid the length inside of his mouth until there was no more left to take. Maybe if Steve said what he had said before they were naked Bucky would be ashamed, but comfortably between Steve’s legs it was like he didn’t know what word even meant. 

He gagged a bit at how much he was taking but hearing Steve gasp in pleasure was worth it alone. He felt saliva pool in his mouth while the tip of his nose touched the hair at the base of Steve’s cock. 

“Jesus, that’s good,” sighed Steve while Bucky sucked.

Steve kept making noise. He wasn’t screaming, that was too much, but the sounds of groaning, humming and the occasional choke on Bucky’s part kept the room from being silent. The sounds and sensations went to Bucky’s head and could have put him in a trance. He momentarily went back to his time with other men, mostly on his knees but sometimes positioned like he was now. He remembered his first time deep throating and how much effort it took to breathe. The guy was nice enough. Patient, probably getting off just as much on watching Bucky take it. As warm as the memory was of him discovering his love of giving oral, all it took to snap him right out of it was a single sound that was unmistakably Steve; a little yelp when Bucky sucked the tiny bit harder that was the result of how Steve pushed the air out of his lungs.                                                          

There were only two things stopping Bucky: his jaw tiring and seeing Steve get pushed right up to his limit. The jaw issue he could power through but the other could turn into a problem when there was so much more to do. Steve’s face was getting redder and he felt an occasional throb on his tongue. Steve was doing his absolute best not to blow. Truthfully, although Bucky would never say it, he was surprised Steve hadn’t shot his load by now. But Steve was defiant and he was determined. He wouldn’t call it quits.

Rather than end up with a mouth full of cum due to sheer stubbornness, Bucky eased back and sat up on his knees. He gave Steve his most winning, slightly lopsided smile with red, worked lips. 

Steve visibly relaxed and said blissfully calm, “That was incredible.”

“Nothin’ but the best for you, Steve.”

Bucky thought that was it and he should start to ready himself for the main event, but Steve gently pushed him down onto his back. Steve slid down and got between Bucky’s legs just like Bucky had before. He was slow, cautious, and started simply with the tip. He ran his tongue on the underside of the glands, spreading precum along the way. 

“That’s- mmphf!- that’s really good,” moaned Bucky who propped himself up on his elbows to get a better look.

Steve flicked his tongue over Bucky’s tip. “Tell me how to do better.”

“You’re doing great.”

“No,” Steve said, “I wanna do better for you. C’mon, Bucky, tell me.”

Bucky ran his hand down Steve’s cheek. He wasn’t lying when he told Steve he was doing great, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t have ideas. 

“Start slow. Relax, and just keep going slow. You gotta just… keep your throat relaxed, I guess. And just suck more when you’re comfortable. Does that make sense?”

In lieu of answering Steve took Bucky back into his mouth. He took more in that attempt than he did initially but stopped before he was uncomfortable. He ran his tongue over Bucky’s cock, taking a special pleasure in tracing two particularly pronounced veins. 

Just as Bucky was no stranger to sucking cock, he was equally familiar with being sucked off. Even though he had objectively better head, none of those other men could compare simply because they weren’t Steve. Watching Steve bob his head up and down, taking a little more each time was so much better in reality than how he pictured it in his head. Fuck, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Goddamn, baby, your mouth feels good. Just take as much as you can. God, that was a nice sound. I’ve never been this damn hard. Yea, use your tongue just like that.

Bucky felt his cock sliding deeper in Steve’s mouth. Steve was pushing himself, sucking faster, deeper on his shaft and working to breathe through his nose. Steve wouldn’t give up when their positions were flipped so Bucky knew he would have to end this lest he blow or let Steve burn himself out. 

He carefully tipped Steve’s chin up just enough so the two could make eye contact.

“Steve, baby, I need you. Inside me.”

Steve’s eyes were locked on Bucky’s but he didn’t stop. The stubborn bastard could never do something not on his own terms.  He sucked faster, taking as much as his limits would allow, even on the verge of gagging. Despite the praise, he knew he wasn’t as good as all the others. But he would try his damndest to be better. He wanted to be inside of Bucky, but that didn’t mean giving up easily. He stopped sucking slowly, making sure to drag his lips and finishing off with a final lick at the slit. 

“Are you ready?” asked Bucky. 

“I am,” replied Steve quietly, yet assuredly. 

Bucky sat up and reached under the corner of his mattress. He knew the exact spot and when his hand came back it was holding a pomade tin. Steve cocked an eyebrow.

“Less risky to carry this,” he shook the tin to emphasize, “than Vaseline. Don’t worry. This ain’t for my hair.”

Bucky gave Steve an open mouthed kiss while he unscrewed the lid from the tin. He knew all the steps to this dance. He adjusted to stand on his knees, dipped two fingers into the slick and began to work himself open. 

Steve, watching with a pretty pink flush on his face, asked, “Is it really that easy?”

Bucky nodded and flashed a smile. 

“Mostly. It gets easier once you’re used to it,” Bucky felt himself loosen enough to push a finger inside of himself, “Maybe next time I can show you how to do it.”

Steve mirrored Bucky’s position, up on his knees, and got close enough to where they were chest to chest. He gave Bucky a kiss on the neck eliciting a groan. 

“I’d like that. Like to open you up on my fingers before I open you up on my cock.”

“Fuck, Steve.”

Bucky didn’t expect that. Even with how tongue-tied Steve got around pretty women or how he was never one to kiss and tell (nevermind Steve had never been kissed; Bucky would have known and been the one exception to the rule), he knew Steve was no saint. His friend was a man, and not just that, but a man with needs. He knew that from the nights he rolled over onto his side and tried to ignore Steve palming his cock as quietly as he could manage. Stark naked with Steve and with two fingers up his ass he thought he was beyond being surprised with Steve. 

Taking advantage of Bucky’s surprise, Steve wrapped his arm around Bucky’s waist, careful not to obstruct him working himself open. “You look really good like this, Buck. Maybe it’s good you’ve been with other fellas. Worked out the kinks, y’ know?”

“You could say that.”

Bucky pushed his fingers as far as they could go at that angle. Steve moved slightly so that his cock rubbed against Bucky’s. Bucky felt himself clench at the light touch but worked himself back open with no problem. 

“Do you prefer doing it yourself?” Steve asked. 

Bucky shrugged, “Not really, but you gotta make sure you’re ready. Some guys rush and don’t do it right.”

He cringed at the thought, having learned that the hard way. 

Steve tightened his arm around Bucky’s waist and put his other hand on his chest. 

“I would never not take care of you.”

It was unintentional, but his voice was so much softer and more earnest than a moment ago when he was talking about opening Bucky up. Even in dirty talk Steve couldn’t let that go unsaid. 

Bucky was about to respond but as soon as his lips parted to speak he got a better idea. 

“I should teach you how to do this now. Get some Vaseline.”

Steve reached for the tin and lubed his fore and middle fingers. He reached around Bucky’s waist and slipped his fingers below. 

“Just start slow, one atta time.”

Bucky slipped one of his fingers out to make room giving Steve all the space he needed. Slowly, Steve pushed a finger past the ring of muscle that was relaxing so nicely. Bucky moaned and it took all he had not to collapse on the bed.

“God, Buck,” Steve said, his voice low and husky, “Will my cock go in this easy?

Bucky nestled his face into Steve’s neck and nodded against his skin. His breathing was trilling.

Steve continued to finger Bucky with one digit while Bucky kept his hand steady, a finger of his still inside.

“Take your hand away,” Steve said. 

Bucky slowly pulled his finger out and allowed Steve to insert his other digit. Steve couldn’t get his fingers in too far with how they were positioned but this was less about getting ready and more for the experience. He kept a slow pace, making sure his movements weren’t choppy. 

“Steve, fuck, that’s nice.”

“You want more of this, or are you ready for the real thing?”

“More like I need the real thing.”

Steve removed his digits. With his other hand he maneuvered Bucky’s face to his and

gave him a kiss. It wasn’t quite chaste, but not as hungry as Bucky would have expected. After the kiss they broke apart, but just barely. They were only as far apart as was necessary to look in each other's eyes. Never breaking eye contact Bucky reached for the tin and spread some of the slick on Steve’s cock. He applied it almost lovingly but wasted no time, getting a secret kick out of seeing Steve try to hold back the shiver that went down his spine and hold his expression. 

“Give it to me, Steve.”

Bucky turned and got down on all fours. He had long since gotten over any shyness or vulnerability (you can’t really care too much about those sorts of things behind crates or fucking strangers) but was feeling a sense of excitement he never felt. It was more than just physical arousal and getting his needs met or having a good time. 

He looked over his shoulder at Steve and asked, “Are you ready?”

Positioning himself behind Bucky, Steve replied, “I’ve never felt more ready for anything.”

As excited as he was, for the first time in a long time he had to consciously relax. Being too excited could tighten him up too much, just as much as being nervous. The few moments it took Steve to line himself up and settle his legs the right distance apart for thrusting felt protracted. In that time Bucky could put it all in perspective. None of the others mattered. 

When he was ready Steve put a firm hand on Bucky’s  waist and guided his cock inside with his free hand. He forced himself to not hold his breath when he felt his cockhead enter inside his dearest friend. 

Bucky let out a long, low groan as Steve pushed in. He was thankful Steve was being careful, but fuck if it wasn’t a tease. He gripped the sheets and arched his back, eagerly taking everything he was getting, slow as it was. 

“You were right about how easy it goes in,” Steve said. Maybe if Bucky’s brain wasn’t completely on fire he could register the dry humor in Steve’s voice.

Steve was barely in and he was already slowing down. 

“Please don’t stop, Steve. You can’t stop.”

“I don’t wanna, but, dammit, you feel so good, Buck. Gimme a minute.”

Steve’s voice was tense. He was acclimating to the impossible squeeze even if it felt like

Bucky’s insides were pushing against him. With every fiber of his being he wanted to give Bucky more. He wanted to grip the meaty hips in front of him and fuck Bucky with all the passion he had. But the tightness in his chest and the shake in his knees were potent. If he had an asthma attack or passed out he’d never forgive himself. And frankly, even if he powered through it he’d probably cum before he even started. 

“Please, Steve,” Bucky was nearly begging, “Don’t just stand there.”

“I-I know. Just a minute, I swear.”

Bucky swallowed hard. Even expecting it he felt goosebumps carpet his skin when Steve finally began to push deeper. It felt so good. The hand on his hip, the perfect curve of Steve’s cock and how it filled him up in the perfect way. Beyond that, he felt a sense of safety he never had before. Nevermind he was in his own bedroom and had the rain to help muffle their noise. Bucky was never a shrinking violet. Even when he was green, he was cool. But there was always a shred of himself that held back. Not anymore. Head dropped down, shoulder blades high and beads of sweat forming at his hairline, Bucky didn’t keep in the moans from deep in his chest. 

Finally Steve began to thrust as a comfortable, if slightly slow, pace. 

Bucky gasped, “C’mon! Gimme more! Gimme everything.”

As if Steve could take it anymore. He pushed deeper with every thrust and worked up to fucking Bucky faster.

“You know I will,” Steve panted, “I’ll give ya everything I got.”

“Fuck!” Bucky’s exclamation was dampened by a thunder clap, “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

“So do you. Oh, Mother of- fuck! Bucky... “

Bucky tightened his grip on the sheets.

Steve leaned forward and held Bucky’s shoulder, “Never thought anything could feel this good. I’m a little surprised I haven’t burst yet.”

Bucky didn’t respond. He could barely process the praise.

“Not gonna say anything?” Steve asked with a hard thrust, “Since when aren’t you a talker?”

“Since when are you such a talker?”

Steve began to laugh roughly, “Guess you’re just bringin’ it out outta me.”

“Keep talkin’.”

“Alright… yeah, alright. You wanna hear how damn tight you are? How if I knew this is what you wanted I’d a’ started fuckin’ you a long time ago?”

As Steve spoke he fucked Bucky harder. He snapped his hips hard and the sound of his body making forceful contact with Bucky’s backside added to the cacophony in the room. 

Through gritted teeth Bucky grunted, “Fuck, Steve, yes…!

Bucky’s knuckles were white from how tightly he held the sheets and he couldn’t stop himself from slamming his own hips back.

“And now you’re gonna fuck me back? You’re somethin’ else, Buck. Never inna million years thought you’d be so hungry for my cock.”

“Yeah, baby,” Bucky was so focused on how his eyes could roll back in his skull in pleasure that he didn’t notice Steve had stopped moving and all the fucking was his doing, “Givin’ it to me so fucking good. Feel so fucking good. No one’s fucked me better, Steve. Understand? No one.”

Steve, still not moving, breathlessly watched his cock disappear into and reappear from inside of Bucky who was still talking, but it was little more than moaning Steve’s name and rambling about how good he felt. While Bucky kept his hips active he began to jerk himself off. He handled himself roughly; firmly gripping himself for short, forceful strokes. While Steve couldn’t see Bucky’s cock he could see the movement of his shoulder. That, with continued friction on his cock he couldn’t take it anymore and needed to do more. He grabbed hold of Bucky’s hips and started to drive into Bucky in perfect sync with the rhythm that he had established. 

“You’re all mine, Bucky,” said Steve, “Do you understand?”

“Yes!”

As if to prove a point Steve reached down between Bucky’s legs and put his hand over the hand Bucky had on his own cock.  Bucky was already jerking himself off as hard as he could so there wasn’t much more for Steve to do but he made damn sure he was keeping his hand on Bucky’s. Despite not touching Bucky’s cock Steve felt a fresh surge of excitement just by feeling the motion.

“Shit, Steve,”

His mouth was dry and his voice was almost hoarse from panting and moaning, “Cum inside me. You gotta. I gotta feel it. Don’t wanna remember what it’s like with anyone else.”

Steve loosened the hold he had on Bucky’s hand and tried to gather all the force he could muster from his slight frame. He started to fuck Bucky with every ounce of power he had. He could feel Bucky’s hole quiver as Bucky got closer to his own orgasm. 

“Y-yeah, ok,” moaned Steve, “I’ll cum in you, Bucky. Gonna empty every drop I have into you.”

“Fuck!” Bucky exclaimed, “pump me full of it!”

And that’s what did it. Steve felt his balls tighten and a burst of heat from between his legs as he shot his load deep inside of Bucky. Through the last few spasms Steve weakly pushed the last of his semen into Bucky’s wet insides. 

Filled, Bucky moaned, “Guh-Goddamit, Steve. Fuh-fucking love feeling your load in me.”

The feeling of Steve’s release kept Bucky warm as Steve carefully, reluctantly, pulled himself out despite the tensing of his hole trying to keep him in. Steve’s legs buckled and he collapsed on the bed, followed by Bucky next to him. 

“Are you ok?” asked Bucky, somewhat concerned by Steve’s sudden drop. 

Steve’s chest was rising and falling heavily but he had a fatigued smile on his face. “How couldn’t I be? I finally got to have you.”

Bucky shifted to give Steve a deep kiss. He cusped Steve’s face and slipped his tongue inside of Steve’s mouth not unlike they did plenty of times before but with more tenderness. They continued to kiss until Steve pulled away. Bucky was about to ask what the matter was before Steve said, “I still gotta take care of you.”

“Wha-?” Bucky said instinctively before he realized that he was still hard, “Oh. Well, you seem pretty spent so I can take care of it.”

Bucky went to start jerking himself again but Steve stopped him by taking his hand. Steve moved and gently guided Bucky’s legs up before positioning himself in between, just like when they started.

“Steve-”

“Hush,” said Steve as he lowered himself, “I gotta get you taken care of.”

“It’s not that I don’t want you to, but you you don’t havta-”

“Yeah,” Steve began to suck Bucky off, “I do havta.”

Bucky wasn’t in any position to argue. Steve began to bob on his cock with more immediate ease than last time. He sucked down as much as he could before coming up and laving his tongue over the shaft. When his tongue reached the root of Bucky’s cock he continued south, tonguing over Bucky’s balls and eventually getting low enough to lick at Bucky’s used hole. 

“Ahh- Steve!” Bucky cried as he felt Steve’s tongue breach his rim. 

Steve licked away the semen that had leaked from inside and worked his tongue around the muscle. While his mouth was busy he put his hand to good use servicing Bucky’s erection. Steve lapped at Bucky’s hole until until it was licked clean. Only when he no longer tasted the saltiness of his own cum did he bring his mouth up to focus his tongue on Bucky’s cock. 

Steve licked Bucky’s tip. “You said some other fellas don’t take care and do things right. I said I’d never not take care of you and I meant it,” he dragged his tongue over Bucky’s cock before coming back up and saying, “And not just about making sure you can get fucked good. You do so much taking care of me and now that we know how each other feel,” a few more drags of his tongue, “I gotta take care of you. And since you gave me a nice warm place to cum I’m gonna do the same for you.”

If the words weren’t enough to stun Bucky to silence Steve gagging on his cock did the trick. Steve took as much of Bucky into his mouth as he could and bobbed his head as fast he could without completely choking. After everything that Bucky’s body had been through it didn’t take long before he couldn’t hold himself back. He felt the familiar tensing and arched his back as he felt his orgasm peak. He came hard into Steve’s mouth and Steve happily swallowed it down. 

Bucky felt like a rag doll. Steve pulled away and resumed his position laying down next to Bucky.  

“So,” Bucky said breathlessly, “This is us now?”

Steve nodded and rested his head on Bucky’s chest. “It has to be. I can’t not have you anymore, Buck. Feels so good being with you. In all ways.”
It was Bucky’s turn to nod. He kissed the top of Steve’s head and said matter-of-factly, “You’re all I ever wanted, Steve. You’re all I need. Kissing me, fucking me, the person I come home to.”

The storm outside hadn’t let up at all during the sex. The rain was like a curtain keeping them tucked quietly away from the world. Eventually they’d have to get out of bed and properly clean themselves up and prepare for the next day when they had to pretend everything was as it should be. But within their shitty four walls everything was how it should be. And Bucky was thankful that how it should be didn’t include rocks in his palms or brands made by wedding rings.