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Bucky takes a deep breath and flexes his fingers before pressing them flat against the desk like he had been told to. His bare ass is in the air, rounded curve exposed and already stinging despite only taking a few hits from Steve’s tiny hand. He hears the next hit before he feels it, the loud smack of skin against flesh echoing in his ears, noise broken by the small whimper that forces its way past plump and bitten lips. When he does feel it though, it smarts more than the last few, burning on his skin like a hot iron.
“It’s so red,” Steve murmurs in awe, trailing his fingertips as lightly as a feather across the sore skin, bringing goosebumps to Bucky’s skin. The next hit feels like fireworks going off, popping and tingling on the surface but he has no moment to linger on that before Steve brings his hand down once more, this time against the sensitive space where Bucky’s thighs meet and he yelps.
There’s a pause as the smaller man’s brain ticks over, figuring out what to do and realizing that he hadn’t been told to stop so he continues, raining down blows and watching blood rise to the surface like a intricate watercolour of pinks, purples and reds.
When Steve next stops, they’re as flushed as each other; panting for breath from both exertion and arousal.
“Should I k-”
“Yes.” Bucky blurts out, rolling his hips against the hard edge of the desk, relishing in the pain of his backside and the pleasure of the unyielding friction provided by the solid wood against his cock. Steve’s hands - one hot, the other startlingly cool in contrast - push between his thighs and he spreads his legs without needing to be told to, the air rushing over his swollen balls making him shiver despite the heat radiating out in waves from his soon to be bruised ass.
When Steve hits him next, it’s against unblemished skin. It feels like the first smack all over again and all he wants is more. The impact jerks Bucky down against the desk he’s braced on and his eyes roll back behind closed lids as he bites his bottom lip hard enough to bruise to keep himself from making a noise that would definitely travel through the walls of their apartment.
Steve steps closer, wrapping one arm around Bucky’s waist to loosely fist his cock, not stroking but simply holding as his other hand comes down bruisingly hard. The feeling of Steve’s hand against Bucky’s arse while the other is wrapped around his cock makes sparks fly up his spine, bringing him closer to the edge with alarming ferocity. Steve is pressed against Bucky’s hip, dick hard and wanting through the rough material of his slacks.
“Fuck.” Bucky utters, letting his head fall forward with a thunk, overwhelmed with sensation but nowhere close to wanting it to stop. He arches his spine, sticking his ass out even further at the expense of his dick slipping from Steve’s grip. He whines deep in his throat and wriggles uncomfortably, wanting to minimise the wait between slaps but desperate to feel the blonde’s fingers wrapped around him. Steve laughs, not unkindly, and it’s a loud, rich sound that makes him feel slightly self conscious in the best kind of way with the realization that all the focus is on him - naked and exposed compared to Steve’s fully dressed form.
Instead of hitting again, Steve’s hand fits into the small of his back perfectly as he presses Bucky back down against the table with little force, the brunette gladly following the silent guidance he’s being given. A quick movement has Steve’s right hand wrapping around his dick again with an almost bruising grip and all Bucky can do as the other hand moves from his back to reign blows on his ass over and over is thrust helplessly into his boyfriend’s touch as pleasure builds in his stomach with every hit.
The thing that really pushes Bucky over the edge, though, is when those fingers come down hard against the incredibly sensitive furl of his asshole. His thoughts go blank and all he can focus on is the exquisite stinging pain as his hips jerk forward and then stutter in their movement. His dick spurts in Steve’s hand as his breath catches in his chest and then comes out in a series of small, choked off gasps that could have started as a plea for more just as much as they could have been Steve’s name on his lips like an ethereal prayer.
Bucky collapses against the table, glad for the sturdy wood holding up his boneless form and he barely even registers Steve pulling away slightly to give him space. The first thing he notices is the stickiness against his stomach, the next thing the dull fuzziness tugging at the edges of his brain. For a few moments, he simply lies there and listens to Steve’s breathing - heavy, like his own, but not laboured enough for either of them to worry about.
“Was that good?” Steve asks, blue eyes bright and pupils so blown that they look like an eternal pit that Bucky would be happy to fall into.
“Yes.” Bucky’s voice is slightly hoarse, as if he’d screamed (had he? He isn’t sure), but he clears his throat and repeats himself. “Yes. Definitely. That was… Wow.” He’s not one to struggle for words, but it’s hard to focus on anything but the stinging, popping pain of his ass.
One of Steve’s small hands comes to touch his sweaty forehead, pushing back strands of brown from his eyes and then Bucky moves quickly, standing up and pressing his body against Steve’s skinny form in one smooth movement. Steve leans up on tiptoes to crush their lips together, pouring unspoken words into the kiss as he licks his way into the taller man’s mouth. The kiss is all heat and passion, tongue and teeth and reckless abandon and it doesn’t lose any of the roughness until Bucky breaks away. He drops to his knees, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and looks up at Steve like he hung the stars.
“Now it’s your turn.” He says, voice sounding as smooth as sin as he tugs on Steve’s belt buckle.