Archive of Our Own

It's a sticky summer in Brooklyn. Eighty-eight degrees and climbing by the hour. Steve's sitting at the furthest table in the corner of an ice cream parlor, frowning into his banana split. When he was skinny, he used to be cold all the time. The ceiling fans and the ice cream would make him shiver. He spent most of his time out of the house with Buck's jacket hanging off his shoulders, just trying to stop shivering.

Buck's on the other side of the parlor now, buying a scoop of ice cream for two girls Steve can't remember the names of. He thinks one of them might be called Cathy. He watches Buck pay with a quarter from his pocket and lead the way back to their table, grinning at Steve the way only girls can make him grin.

One of the dames, the one with long red hair and perfectly curled bangs, takes her designated spot next to Steve, though she keeps her eyes on Bucky anyway.

The blonde next to Bucky pouts her bright red lips. "This ice cream is making me cold," she says, and right on cue, Bucky slips off his blazer and throws it over her shoulders.

That used to be Steve's jacket. Now he's so big it probably wouldn't even fit him.

"You know," Bucky says to the table. "Katie went to school to be a journalist."

The girl next to Steve smiles.

"Steve's done films. Maybe you could interview him."

Steve shoots Bucky a nasty look, but he pretends he doesn't see it. "You're free tonight, aren't you, Stevie? Dot and I are going to go dancing; you two could go back to the apartment. Get the latest Captain America scoop."

Katie—not Cathy— turns to Steve, the corners of her mouth tugged up. She's pretty in the way that makes Steve's hands clammy, and his tongue feel too big for his mouth. Bucky picks up on it effortlessly and fills the silence for him.

"I've got leftovers in the fridge, Steve, just heat 'em up. You can stay for dinner, Katie, we don't mind. Dot and I will be out late anyway." Dot giggles and Steve wants to reach across the table and smack Buck upside the head.

He didn't even want to go out with the girls. Not that Katie isn't very kind, and very, very pretty, but Steve's no good with dames. He's never been like Bucky, never been handsome and good at flirting. But his birthday's in a few days, and Buck told Steve for his big day he's going to get him laid.

Steve said that wasn't necessary, and really, it's more trouble than it's worth. He'd rather have a box of nice colored pencils from the art shop up the road, but Buck's always been stingy as all hell, and he insisted getting Steve a dame would be better. This is Steve and Bucky's third double date this week, and Steve still hasn't brought any of them home.

Bucky has. But after the disaster of the first night and the paper-thin walls of their shared apartment, now Bucky only brings them as far as the car.

"I think that would be fun," Katie says, with a neatly manicured hand on his shoulder. "What do you think, Steve?"

"Yeah," Steve manages, swallowing a big bite of banana split. Bucky motions for him to wipe his mouth, and Steve wipes away a smear of whipped cream on his sleeve. "That would be alright, yeah."

"It's a date," Katie says, and Steve's stomach sinks.

Steve's been on lots of dates. Sort of. Technically.

He's been on lots of double dates with Bucky. He has no idea where Bucky even finds this many women. He must have dated his way through half of Brooklyn by now. But his dates are usually out dancing with someone Bucky found for him, or getting food after, or going to see a show. Steve's going to be twenty-six in a few days, and he's never been alone with a dame like this.

They're in the apartment. True to his word, Buck and Dot are out late. Steve made a wonderfully mediocre dinner of leftover chicken soup and a glass of white wine, which they ate over awkward, forced conversation. Steve spent as long as he could doing the dishes, and finally joined Katie on the couch when he couldn't think of any other way to busy himself.

He and Katie had talked for a bit, he can't even remember about what, and then they were kissing.

Steve had kissed a grand total of one person before Katie. He kissed Mary Lou on the lips under the slide on the school playground when he was eight. Now, with Katie next to him on the couch, her lips on his and her fingers running through the short hairs on the back of his neck, Steve has no idea what he's doing.

She pulls back after a moment. "Are you alright?" she asks, "you seem tense."

"I'm fine," Steve says. "Just a little out of practice."

"Been a while?" She asks sweetly.

"Yeah." Steve rubs his sweaty palms on his pants. "Been a while."

She kisses him again, and Steve isn't sure what to do with his sweaty hands now. He leaves them flat on his thighs, sitting stiff as a board, focusing on moving his lips in time with hers.

She pulls back again after a moment with a frown. "It doesn't feel like you're into this," she says. And Steve isn't sure how to talk his way out of it after that.

Bucky doesn't come home until nearly two in the morning.

"You're up," he says when he comes in, hanging his blazer on the rack. His shirt is untucked, and his hair is messed up in the back. Steve tries not to look at him. He keeps his eyes trained on his sketchbook instead.

"Yup," Steve says.

"Is Katie in the bathroom?"

"Nope."

Bucky sighs and sits next to him on the couch, patting him on the back. "I'm sorry, pal."

"It's alright," Steve says. "I don't think I really liked her."

"You didn't like her, or you were too nervous to give her a fair shot?"

Steve's grip on his pencil snaps it clean in half. He tosses it across the room in frustration. He's had this new body just over a year now, and he still doesn't know his own strength.

"What are you so worked up for, Stevie? It's not your birthday yet. We've still got a couple days to get you a dame. Let me ask Dot if she'll—"

"No." Steve interrupts. "No, Buck, I don't want that. I don't want any more dates."

Bucky cocks his head, like he can't imagine why anybody wouldn't want to go on a date.

"I just, I don't know what to do," Steve says, shutting his sketchbook with more force than he means to. "I don't know what to do with a dame."

"I thought maybe you'd had some experience now. There were a lot of rumors, you know, about you and those show girls."

"I would have told you if something happened."

"You're a private guy," Bucky says defensively. "I don't know if anything happened."

"Sometimes they helped me squeeze into those pants."

"That's something," Bucky says encouragingly. "Did they ever cop a feel?"

Steve rolls his eyes and gives Bucky a kick in the thigh.

"So you're a virgin," Bucky says, untying his shoes and kicking them across the floor. Steve will have to pick them up later. Bucky doesn't pick up anything. "That's no big deal. It's nothing we can't work with."

"Even if I found a dame who didn't make me clam up, I think she'd run as soon as I tell her."

"Then don't tell her."

"Be serious, Buck. She'll be able to tell."

Bucky sits back on the couch and raises his eyebrows. "What are you doing so wrong that she'd know?"

"I don't know, everything? I'm not good at any of it. I'm not like you, I'm not…" Steve pauses to consider. "I'm not charming."

Bucky grins. "You think I'm charming?"

"No," Steve says quickly. "You know what I mean. Dames think you're charming."

"Well, that's easy. You just need to know what to say."

Steve thinks it actually has very little to do with what Bucky says, and everything to do with his handsome face, his square jaw, and his bright blue eyes. He'd rather die than admit that, though. Buck's ego is endearing right now, but if it gets much bigger, he'll be completely insufferable.

"What do I say?" Steve asks, just to humor him.

"You gotta compliment her. Tell her how nice she looks."

"I do that."

"You don't do it very well."

Steve crosses his arms. He should just go to bed. Buck's got this awful habit of making him feel like an idiot, and like the most important person in the world at the same time. It makes Steve dizzy on a good day, and today has been awful. "Tell me how to do it then, if you're the expert."

"Steve," Bucky says seriously, leaning closer on the couch. "You look great tonight. Was Katie all over you? I bet she was."

Steve's stomach sinks. "Well, don't try it on me."

"Why? Is it working?"

"No," Steve says quickly.

"I'm not doing anything, Stevie. Just asking my best pal a question. A question he didn't answer, by the way."

"We kissed."

"Did you?" Bucky sits back and smiles. "How was it?"

"Fine."

"Steve."

"Jeez, Buck, I don't know. It was awkward. I don't think I was very good, is that what you wanted to know?" He sets his sketchbook on the table and stands, but Bucky grabs his wrist and pulls him back to the couch.

"Come on, Stevie, I didn't mean to make you upset."

"I'm not upset." Steve knows he gets broody when he's embarrassed. The serum made him stronger, but it didn't make him any less sensitive. Buck is still as blunt and unaware as ever, and Steve still pouts like a child every time.

"Why do you think you did a bad job? I'm not going to judge; I'm your pal. I'll help you out."

Buck looks so sincere when he says it, his brows furrowed, his eyes huge. Steve takes a deep breath and lets it all out. "I haven't kissed many people. She just didn't— I don't know. I think if she was enjoying herself she'd have a different reaction. I think I'm doing something wrong."

"What are you doing wrong?"

"I don't know! I can't tell, I'm not kissing myself."

"I've kissed a lot of people," Bucky says.

Steve rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I got that, Buck, thank you."

"No, I mean, I could tell you what you're doing wrong."

Steve's eyes go wide when he realizes what Bucky's saying. "No. No, you don't need to do that."

"I know I don't need to."

"You don't want to."

Bucky shrugs. "Would it help you?"

Steve's so nervous his vision's going all spotty at the edges. Telling Bucky what a complete moron he is with the girls is one thing, but showing him's a whole other. He'd never get to live it down. "You'll make fun of me."

"I would never," and his voice is so sincere, Steve almost believes him.

Bucky scoots closer to him on the couch until their thighs are pressed together. He can feel the heat of Bucky's skin through two pairs of slacks. "Pretend I'm a dame," he says. "What would you do?"

"I would wait for you to make a move," Steve says honestly.

"Well, that won't do. You're Captain America now, there'll be some expectations. Start by tucking my hair behind my ear."

"Your hair isn't long enough."

"You're a movie star, Captain. Pretend."

Steve swallows hard and pretends to tuck a strand of hair behind Bucky's ear. Bucky looks up at him from under his long lashes and blinks bashfully.

"Now cup my face," Bucky says.

Steve's never really touched Bucky's face before. His jaw is stubbly, and Steve rubs his thumb along Bucky's cheekbone without thinking about it.

"Just like that," Bucky encourages. "Now, kiss me."

"I don't know if I should—"

"Steve. Kiss me."

Steve closes his eyes and presses his lips to Bucky's. He expects it to feel like kissing Katie did, but it doesn't feel anything like that. It feels just the opposite, actually. He's nervous, but not in the same way. He's nervous in the pit of his stomach instead of his chest. He's antsy because he likes it. He's kissing Bucky, and it's great, and he hopes Bucky likes it too, and—

Bucky pushes him off with a hand on his chest. "Why are your lips so stiff?"

Steve's face falls. He feels sick. "I don't know."

"You need to calm down. It feels like kissing a rock." Bucky's hands move to Steve's shoulders, digging his thumbs into the tense muscle there and massaging until they start to slump. "There you go," Bucky says. "You're just wound up too tight."

"Feels good," Steve says, letting his head fall forward. He didn't even realize how tense he was until Bucky started poking around.

"There you go," Bucky soothes. "Relax a little. Now lift your head, Stevie."

Steve lifts his head, and Bucky leans in.

They're kissing again, Bucky's lips working against his. Steve can feel the difference this time. He's more relaxed, it feels like Bucky's melting into him. His lips are soft and warm, and god, Steve could do this all day.

"Part your lips," Bucky mumbles, pulling back just enough to get the words out.

Steve parts his lips, and when he does, Bucky's tongue traces along his bottom lip. Steve shivers and presses his tongue against Bucky's. Bucky moans, and Steve thinks maybe he's doing something right.

"Is that any better?" Steve asks when they finally break apart.

Bucky's cheeks are flushed. "That was good, Stevie. You're still a little stiff, though. You just need to relax."

"I thought I was relaxing."

"Your lips are relaxed," Bucky agrees, "but you're stiff. It's just me."

Steve has to bite back a laugh. It's just me. Like Buck isn't everything. "How do I relax?"

"Like this," Bucky says, and leans forward again. Kissing feels easier now. Judging by the noises Buck is making, Steve thinks he's at least doing an alright job. Bucky gets his hands on Steve's shoulders and pulls him forward. Bucky lies out across the couch, and Steve ends up on top of him. "There you go," Bucky mumbles against his lips. "That more comfortable?"

Steve has to readjust when Bucky lies back, an arm next to his head, a knee propped up on one side of his hip so he doesn't crush him.

"I don't think me and Katie got this far," Steve says.

"That's alright, use your imagination. What would you do if I were a girl?"

If Bucky were a girl, Steve would run, but something tells him that isn't the answer Bucky's looking for. He reframes it in his mind: what feels natural? What does he want to do next?

"I think I would touch you," Steve says.

"Do you want to try?"

Steve goes still above him. "I don't know where I'd start."

"Well," Bucky says, and he doesn't seem bothered at all by the fact that Steve is Steve. He grabs his hand and presses it to his hip. He guides Steve's hand up his side, over the top of his shirt. "I usually touch girls here, first," he says. "If they like it, you'll be able to tell, but if they don't like it, you haven't made them feel uncomfortable yet."

Bucky lets go, and Steve lets his hands keep moving, up and down Bucky's side while they kiss. Bucky sighs against Steve's lips, deep and throaty, and Steve tries to keep his composure. Under his shirt, Bucky's body is firm. Lean and muscular. Steve, in a moment of bravery, lets his hands slip under Bucky's shirt and run along bare skin. He can feel the muscles of Bucky's stomach jump under his fingers, hear the stuttered breath Bucky lets out.

Steve's spent his entire life trying to convince himself the way he felt about girls was substantial, but he knows immediately after touching Bucky that this is what it was supposed to feel like all along.

Bucky's back arches into the touch and, once again, he pulls back. "Pop quiz," he pants, "if I were Katie, would you say I'm into it, or not into it?"

Bucky's cheeks are flushed, his pupils are dilated, and he's leaned into every touch Steve has given him. "Into it," Steve says.

"Right. I'm into it," Buck agrees. "That means you get to touch me more."

Steve's hands are still under his shirt. Buck grabs Steve by the wrist and drags his hand across his stomach, up over his chest until Steve's hand is resting on his pec. "Now tell me something nice," Bucky breathes.

"You have beautiful eyes."

"Not about my eyes," Bucky scolds. "You're trying to get laid, compliment my tits."

"I love your… tits," Steve says, and even though it feels vulgar and humiliating on his tongue, Bucky squeezes his wrist and lets out another incredible breathy sigh at the words.

"Your tits are gorgeous," Steve says, with a bit more confidence now, squeezing Bucky's pec then running his thumb over one of his nipples. Bucky chokes on his breath, and his hips shoot up at the sensation. Steve angles his hips away. Cripes, he's already stiffening in his slacks. He doesn't need Bucky to know that.

"Good," Bucky gasps, "Yeah, that's good, Steve. You're a quick learner."

Steve is struggling to breathe at this point. He's not stupid; he can tell Bucky's physically enjoying what's going on, but it's all different for Steve. It's not the fantasy, it's Buck. It's been Buck the whole time, probably, but Steve has been so deep in denial he's hardly noticed.

Steve's probably a bad person for not putting a stop to it, but whether Buck knows exactly what Steve's getting out of it or not, it's useful information to have.

"If I'm touching her like this, and she likes it, what should I do next?" Steve asks.

Bucky closes his eyes. Steve's never seen him with his cheeks so red. "Use your brain, Steven."

"I'd imagine sex."

"You're so smart," Bucky deadpans. "Next is sex. Congratulations. You made it this far. Are you feeling more confident?"

Steve lets out a breathy laugh. "Not by much."

"Have you ever touched a woman, Steve?"

Steve thinks back to all the double dates he went on with Bucky, all the time he spent with the friends of whatever girl Bucky wanted to go out with. Steve's danced a little even though Bucky likes to tease and say he hasn't.

"Of course I have."

"You know what I mean," Bucky counters. "Have you ever touched a girl?"

Steve swallows hard. "Not… no. Not like that."

"I'm going to give you a bit of advice," Bucky says. "If she wants you, she'll be wet."

"Wet," Steve repeats, with an ironically dry throat.

"Between her legs," Bucky clarifies. "When you touch her she'll feel—"

"Wet," Steve finishes.

"You've got it, pal." Bucky reaches his own hands down to undo the button and zip of his slacks. "It'll be a little different with a man, but the technique is the same."

Steve doesn't think he has a technique at all. He's about to tell Bucky as much when Bucky's hand covers his, guiding it from his chest, over his stomach, down to the waistband of his underwear. "Is this alright?" Bucky asks.

"Yeah," Steve gasps. Nothing's ever felt more alright in his life. With Bucky's hand guiding him, Steve pushes into the waistband of his underwear until he's sort of cupping Bucky's cock.

Bucky throws his head back and moans, and Christ, Steve's starting to understand what all the buzz is about. The noises Buck is making send a wave of arousal straight down his spine.

"How does it feel, Stevie?"

Bucky's hard in his hand, growing harder when Steve gets a fist properly around him. He strokes Bucky a few times, the same way he'd stroke himself. Pre-cum beads on the tip of his cock, Steve smears it with his thumb. "Wet," he says.

Bucky nods with his teeth digging into his bottom lip. "Do you know what to do next?" he gasps, and the sound makes Steve's rhythm stutter. He made Bucky lose his composure like this.

"Sex," Steve says. He thought they already established this.

"I'm a lady," Bucky tells him. "You wouldn't just feel a girl up a little and go right for it."

Right, okay. Even Steve knew that, but Bucky's making him so nervous he can hardly think straight. He's known Bucky his whole life and has never gotten to see this side of him. He's hardly gotten to imagine it. Every time his brain steered in the direction of this particular fantasy, Steve would try to stop the thought in its tracks. If he was touching himself, he'd take his hand off instantly, refusing to reward his brain for bad behavior. He'd lie under the sheets, hard and desperate until he was thinking about a girl again before he continued.

But Buck doesn't seem to be bothered at all by the fact that Steve's another man. Steve supposes he wouldn't be. He's so bad with women, and Buck's always been protective to a fault. If Steve needed a little hands-on experience, of course Bucky would be happy to help him.

Steve takes the advice and tries to slow it down a bit. He kisses Bucky again, hungry and open-mouthed. The feeling of Bucky's tongue in his mouth is new, but not unwelcome. Steve angles his hips up, because he's enjoying this new sensation and it's starting to become obvious just how much he's enjoying it. He moves his lips from Bucky's, across his jaw, to just below his ear and down the side of his neck. He keeps Buck's cock in his hand, stroking him slowly, and at an awkward angle, but stroking him all the same. It's not at all like touching himself. Not just because he's coming at it from a different direction, but Bucky's got all different tastes than Steve. He needs to try a new grip, a new speed.

"Shit," Bucky breathes, and cranes his neck to the side to give Steve more room. He can smell Bucky's aftershave this close. Steve's always liked the smell, though it's always been a little sophisticated for Buck. His skin tastes salty, with a sweet tang to it. Steve needs more of it. He breathes in through his nose and darts his tongue out to get a better taste.

Bucky squirms beneath him, and his hands, which have been planted on the back of Steve's neck until now, move down to his waist. He tugs Steve's hips down, so he's pressed right up against Bucky.

"I want to— if I were a girl, I'd want to feel you," Bucky says.

They're touching now, just two pairs of slacks separating skin. Steve pulls his hand out of Bucky's pants, and he's shocked by how good it feels to rut up against Bucky like this. Bucky's fly is still down, and he can see him straining against his underpants when he looks.

"Can I ask you something personal?" Bucky asks after a moment.

Saying no has never stopped him before, so Steve nods. He isn't sure he can keep his voice steady if he answers out loud.

"Were you always this big? Or is it because of the serum?"

Steve feels himself flush all the way down his neck. "You haven't even seen it."

"I can feel it," Bucky says, and Steve's pretty sure sexual experiences are at least supposed to last until clothes start coming off. At this rate, he wont last long.

He moves his hands to the front of Bucky's shirt, undoing the buttons at his throat and moving his way down. With each button that opens Steve kisses the newly exposed skin. Buck's hands land on his shoulders, giving them a squeeze and then pushing him off.

"What's the rush?" Bucky asks lowly.

Steve's cock jumps in his pants. He's never going to be able to look Buck in the eye again after this, he knows it. If he had any sense, he'd back out. But Steve's never had any sense. It's why he and Bucky get along.

"Sorry," Steve breathes.

"Don't be sorry, I've just got a lot to teach you."

"Yeah, sure. Teach me everything."

"This next part is hard to explain. Might be easier to show you."

"Show me," Steve says quickly. "You can show me whatever you want."

Bucky sits up, and Steve scoots off him. He keeps going back until he's lying on the opposite end of the couch, neck propped up on the armrest. Bucky's hovering above him now. He slips the suspenders off Steve's shoulders and untucks his shirt from his pants. He pauses before he undoes the belt.

"You oughta tell me if this is making you uncomfortable."

"Nope," Steve shakes his head and swallows hard. "Keep going. Please."

Bucky fumbles with the buckle and tugs his pants down, followed by his underwear. They get caught around his ankle, and Steve has to help kick them off. Once they're off, he feels exposed in a way he hasn't this whole time. Even when they were kissing, even when he was touching Bucky, the clothes were a barrier. Kept it from feeling too real.

The only people who have seen Steve naked before this have been a string of doctors and nurses. When he was young and sick, he'd sit through physical after physical, where they'd have him take off his clothes, poke and prod him, have him change into hospital gowns with no privacy. After the serum it got worse, somehow. More doctors. More needles. More hours spent naked and on display like a specimen in a test tube.

Being undressed now makes him feel a little bit like a lab rat, but Buck isn't looking at him the same way the doctors did. Buck's looking at him with wide eyes and his lips parted. He looks like he's about to start drooling.

Steve closes his legs instinctively, and Bucky gets a hand on his left knee, pushing it until he's spread out on the couch, one leg over the side with his foot resting on the floor, the other on the cushions, knee bent, and his cock, hard and completely on display in between.

"You could just cut right to chase if you were some jerk," Bucky says slowly. "She'd probably be ready enough. But you're no jerk, Stevie, you're a gentleman, aren't you?"

Steve's heart has jumped to his throat. He doesn't trust himself to speak. He nods instead.

"Yeah," Buck agrees. "You're a gentleman. I'm gonna give you a little anatomy lesson, alright? Girls are going to look different than us down there."

"Cripes, Bucky, I know that."

"Just listen," Bucky says. Steve shuts his mouth. "Some guys just want to have sex, but that's not us, Stevie. You gotta trust me that the best part of fooling around, is making your partner feel good. It won't feel any good for you if she isn't feeling good."

Steve nods. That makes sense. The single most arousing part of this interaction so far has been Bucky, and all the different noises he makes in response to all the different ways Steve touches him.

"Before you have sex with her, you want her to be begging for it. You'll know you're doing it right because she'll be so wet you slip right in, that makes sense?"

Steve nods again. His mouth feels a little dry. In their new positions, he's got a feeling Bucky's about to make him the girl in this example. He shifts his hips and takes a deep breath in through his nose. He's getting eager at the thought.

"Like I said, we've got different anatomy going on, but I'm going to teach you the basics. First, you want to make sure her legs are spread, but some dames will get real shy on you. You need to make her feel comfortable," he leans down to press a quick kiss to Steve's lips. "You're gorgeous, Stevie, you know that? Prettiest thing I've ever seen."

Steve scowls and flushes. Bucky laughs. "I'm not kidding," Bucky says. "You're gorgeous. Can I touch you?"

"I won't last long if you do."

"Making you feel good is the goal." Bucky reaches his hand down between Steve's legs, and for the first time in his life, there's a hand wrapped around his cock that isn't his own.

Steve jumps and bucks his hips at the sensation. "Oh, hell, Bucky," he gasps. "That's—that feels good." He isn't sure why he's so surprised it feels good. Of course it would feel good, but it doesn't feel at all the way it does when he touches himself. It feels better. Bucky's palms is warm and calloused, and it wraps around his cock right at the base.

"When you're making a dame feel good, you need to take your time. Enjoy how she sounds. Enjoy how she tastes."

"Tastes?" Steve swallows hard. Is he going to…

"You've got nothing to worry about. It tastes good."

"Like what?"

"Well, everyone's different." Bucky closes his eyes and leans forward, and before Steve knows it, Bucky's mouth is wrapped around the head of his cock.

"Holy shit, Bucky," Steve gasps, hands flying to Bucky's hair. "That's—wow, Buck, wow."

Bucky pulls off of him, grinning. "For example," he says, "you taste kind of sweet. Like candy."

Christ on a cracker, Bucky's going to be the death of him.

"Now, like I was saying, it's not going to be a one-to-one comparison anatomy-wise, but I can give you the basics for when you're out there on your own. It's a sensitive spot, you've gotta be real gentle, and you've gotta listen to her body. When she likes something, you keep doing it. Make sense?"

"Sounds easy enough." Steve's chest is heaving, one hand still tangled in the back of Bucky's hair.

"You don't want to go straight in with your fingers or anything right away, she'll appreciate you more if you work her up on the outside first. Understand?"

Steve screws up his face. "I think so?"

"Sort of like this," Bucky says, and he drops his head again, tongue darting out to lick a stripe along the underside of Steve's cock, then circles the head before wrapping his lips around it again.

Steve doesn't even recognize the noises coming out of himself. He can't stop the moans that fill his mouth and spill over his tongue. He babbles his way through it, completely unaware of what he's saying.

"Bucky, oh lord. Oh wow, Bucky, that's—ugh, that feels good."

Bucky drops his head more and takes Steve further into his mouth. He works his hands along the length he can't fit in his mouth, and god, it's everywhere. The pleasure creeps up his spine and down to his toes. His vision goes white at the edges. Steve needs to squeeze his eyes shut so he doesn't get completely dizzy with the feel of it. The muscles in his stomach tense up and flex, and he squeezes his hands in Bucky's hair so tight it's got to hurt. He'll apologize later, when he's thinking straight.

Steve hardly lasts a few seconds with Bucky's mouth on him, and sooner than anticipated, he knows he's done for.

"I can't— can you stop? Please?"

Bucky pulls off him in an instant, the cold air hitting his spit-soaked cock and making him shiver. He's already barreled past the point of no return, and even without Bucky's mouth, Steve cums all over his own shirt, some of it dripping down the shaft and getting all over Bucky's hand, which is still holding him right at the base. He must have been too surprised to move it.

"I'm sorry," Steve says quickly, pushing himself into a sitting position. "I didn't mean to—I've never—"

"Hey," Bucky says, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve and his hand, that's covered in Steve's cum, on his thigh. Steve will have to wash those pants later. Buck never does his own laundry. He'd let it pile up until the whole house stunk if he had his way. "I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking pushing you like that, I went too far."

Before Steve knows it, Bucky's on his knees leaning over him, stroking his hair and looking down at him with big, worried eyes. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I'm real sorry."

"No," Steve shakes his head miserably. "No, you were just trying to be helpful, I'm the one who went too far when I—" he motions at the mess on his stomach.

Bucky's hand leaves his hair, and Steve tries not to look visibly distressed at the loss. "Is that what this is about?"

Steve nods.

"You really think my only motive here was to help you with your lady problems?"

"Well… yes?"

Bucky laughs, short and sharp, and Steve is somehow more humiliated than before. "I was saying all that stuff to open you up, see if you wanted to, you know?"

"Wanted to what?"

"Well, don't make me spell it out, Rogers. I thought you might've been a little sweet on me, so I gave it a shot."

Steve blinks. "You wanted to do all this?"

Bucky kisses him again. Steve's too stunned to kiss back. "Of course I did, you idiot. I thought I was obvious. Thought I've been obvious for years."

Years? Steve's actually dizzy now. He grabs onto Bucky's arms to keep himself grounded. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"You know why."

"It'd be alright."

Bucky shakes his head. "I was giving you an easy out. I was giving us a way to try it without having to think about," he motions vaguely. "Everything."

"I'd put up with all of that and then some for you, Buck. I don't care what anyone thinks."

"Yes, yes, I know," Bucky says with an exasperated sigh. "Captain America in all his chivalrous glory."

"This isn't a Captain America thing, it's a me and you thing."

Bucky sighs again, and his features twist into something unmistakably sad. A furrow between his brows, his lips tugged down at the corners. A far-off expression in his eyes, like he's gone somewhere else entirely. He shifts around on the couch and grabs Steve by the shoulders, pulling him close until they're both lying down, Bucky on his back with his head propped up on the armrest, Steve on top of him, supporting himself with an arm propped next to Bucky's head.

"They'd kick you out of the military," Bucky says finally. "Howard would probably demand the shield back. There's a lot more to this than caring what the neighbors think. What good would you do as a socially ostracized civilian? You oughta keep your good standing."

Steve looks away. He can't stand looking at Buck's face all sad like that. Steve's spent so long knowing Bucky didn't feel that way about him, that he didn't even let himself daydream about the possibility of it. It feels like he got everything he wanted and then had it ripped away from him all in the span of a couple of minutes. It's a lot to wrap his head around.

"What are you thinking about?" Bucky frowns. "You've got your thinking face on."

He didn't have everything ripped away, he supposes. Bucky's still here, he's still hard. If this is how it has to be, well.

"I'm thinking about what I'd do if there were a beautiful dame on my couch," Steve says quietly. "I think I'd finish getting her undressed. I've always thought she was beautiful, I can't say I haven't wondered what she'd look like without any clothes."

Steve finishes the last buttons of Bucky's shirt and helps him out of it. Buck wasn't particularly shy in the first place, but he's not holding back at all now. He moans when Steve kisses his neck, and he only gets louder as Steve's hands reach the waistband of his slacks, which they strip off together.

Bucky is everything Steve thought he'd be without his clothes on. His arms are ridiculously muscular, his stomach toned and flat, his skin all smooth, except the dark patch of hair that starts just below his navel and thickens up around the base of his cock, and the thin spattering of hair on his chest.

Steve takes his shirt off next, and Bucky's touching him before his arms are even free. Steve doesn't have any hair on his chest. He can hardly grow stubble on his chin. There are some things even the serum can't change.

Steve presses their lips together and tangles their legs unceremoniously. There's really no good way to do this on the couch, but he needs to be closer to Bucky. He grabs his hips and rocks against him, tries to pull him even closer somehow.

"How are you hard again already?" Bucky gasps.

Now that's courtesy of the serum, but Steve doesn't want to get into it. "I'm a good student," Steve says. "Very dedicated to my studies."

"I think you know everything you need to know. I'm just here to supervise at this point."

"I want to have sex with you," Steve blurts after a moment. "Is that alright? Would you want that?"

"Yeah, want you," Bucky breathes, and it's the best sound Steve's ever heard in his life.

He grabs Bucky under the knees and shifts them around again, so Bucky's legs are bracketing Steve's hips. Steve's on his knees on the cushions, his hands propping himself up on the armrest, on either side of Bucky's head.

"Slow down, tiger," Bucky says with a hand on Steve's chest. "You're big. You need to work a gal up."

Once again, his inexperience is humiliating. "I know with a dame I could use my fingers but—"

"Right," Bucky interrupts. "Works the same way. Only difference is I'm not getting wet on my own."

Steve looks around helplessly. "I could get a glass of water?"

"Idiot," Bucky says, in a voice so gentle it's hard to take the insult personally. He grabs Steve by the wrist and brings his hand to his lips, taking two of his fingers into his mouth and swirling his tongue around them. And isn't that a sight to see, Bucky with his mouth full, looking up at Steve with his bright eyes.

"Holy cow," Steve says.

When Bucky's finished, Steve brings his dripping fingers down between Bucky's legs. He runs his fingers along the crease until he finds what he's looking for, and jeez, he never thought just this would be so arousing.

He presses a finger experimentally against the muscle, feels the resistance, watches Bucky's face the whole time. If she likes it, keep doing that, Bucky had said, so Steve watches closely.

He pushes one finger in, and Bucky's warm and soft inside. Soon, that warmth will be enveloping his cock, and it will be Bucky, tight as a damned noose around him, making love to him. With him. Steve could cum from the thought alone.

He moves his finger in and out, trying out different depths and speeds. As Bucky relaxes, it becomes less tight, then he adds the second finger, and they're right back to square one.

Steve spends a long time working him open with two fingers. Bucky keeps his legs around Steve's hips, his ankles crossed and digging into Steve's lower back. Every now and then he lets out a new noise, or sighs a new obscenity.

He adds a third finger in dry, and he can tell it hurts by the way Bucky's face scrunches up. He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth.

"That's good," Bucky hisses. "You can fuck me now."

"Are you sure?" Steve's quite a bit bigger than just three of his fingers.

"Positive, here," Bucky sits up and drools into the palm of his right hand. When he's got a nice amount, he reaches out to stroke Steve's cock, slicking it with his spit.

Steve bites into his bottom lip until he draws blood to keep from shooting off at just that.

Bucky leans back when he's done, spreads his legs as wide as he can, and that's that. Steve's about to lose his virginity. To Bucky. He still can't believe his luck.

It's not as smooth as he thought it'd be. He thought he'd be able to slip right in and start rocking his hips, thought he'd be able to screw Bucky right through the cushions until they were both shouting, trembling messes.

But it takes a lot of readjusting and using Bucky's hand as a guide to even get lined up properly. Bucky insists it would be better to turn him over, have him on his hands and knees, but Steve wants to see his face.

It doesn't take Buck much convincing.

When he's lined up, Steve starts to push in. Bucky's body is resistant. He's too tight, or Steve's too big. It's hard to tell exactly, but when there's finally give, and Steve gets just the head inside, Bucky's face screws up.

"Fuck," he grits out.

"I can stop," Steve says quickly, but Bucky shakes his head.

"Just give me a second, doll, I want you here."

Steve ignores the swoop in his stomach at the pet name, usually reserved for the girlfriends Bucky's most fond of.

Steve goes still, pushing a sweaty clump of hair off Buck's forehead. "We don't have to."

Bucky takes a deep breath, in through his nose, out through his mouth, then nods. "I'm ready, keep going."

Steve goes as slow as he possibly can, one hand under Bucky's hip to keep him at the right angle. He feels Buck stretching around him, and he feels awful that it's hurting him, because for Steve, god— for Steve, it feels amazing. Hot and wet, squeezing him in all the right spots. He doesn't think he'll last.

When he's all the way in, he presses a kiss to Bucky's forehead. "That's it, that's all of it. Does it hurt?"

To Steve's surprise, Bucky shakes his head, even though his eyes are glassy. "Feels so fucking good," he chokes out. "You can move. Please."

Please. Steve's enamored, like all this is somehow Steve doing Bucky a favor.

He moves his hips slowly at first, getting a feel for the whole thing, but Steve learns quickly that Bucky's a bossy lover. He asks for exactly what he wants. Steve's relieved to have someone tell him what to do. Faster. Slower. More spit, Steve, holy shit.

Eventually, with his head thrown back and a sheen of sweat covering his perfect chest, Bucky, his voice higher than usual and laced with need, says, "so close, Steve, just angle your hips to the left for me, oh, god, right there."

Bucky wraps a fist around his own cock and clenches so tight around Steve when he cums it's almost painful.

Steve isn't far behind him, and he isn't sure what's proper protocol here. Is it rude to finish inside? Is it rude to pull out and make a mess? The couch is ruined either way.

Bucky takes the guesswork out of this, too. He wraps his legs tighter around Steve and holds him in place while Steve finishes inside him with a cry.

Afterwards, Steve pulls out of him and they both wince. He's got all the time in the world to be embarrassed about being naked later. Right now, Steve wants to be pressed against Bucky's skin, breathing in his sweat, feeling his heart race in his chest.

"Was it an okay birthday present?" Bucky asks after a long, comfortable silence.

"Best one I ever had, Buck."

"Good," Bucky says, with his stupid grin, "I didn't buy you anything."