Work Text:
Bucky slips back into consciousness slowly. It starts with the brightness, an awareness of lights shining on him. He squeezes his eyes tighter and the light dims. Instinctively he freezes when he hears feet shuffling near the chamber, bracing for the hit that always comes when he shows any signs of weakness.
“Sorry about that, I turned it down. You’re waking up faster than I anticipated.”
The voice is soft, warm, feminine, and accented. A gentle hand settles on his forehead and smooths his hair back.
“Can you wiggle your toes?” she asks, and now that she brings it up, he’s aware of his feet, thousands of tiny pinpricks of sensation, and he curls them down tight.
“Excellent. And now your hand?”
Bucky blinks his eyes open as he grasps the small hand in his—so breakable, he thinks—and focuses on the young, dark skinned woman at his side.
Right. Wakanda.
“Let’s get you upright,” she says, and he remembers her name now, Shuri, and he looks around as the room shifts and—
“Steve?” he asks, voice raspy.
“I’m here, Buck.”
The familiar voice washes over him, and some of the tension in his shoulders eases as he follows the sound of it, the deep timbre that saved him from a lifetime of agony, and—oh.
“How long was I in there?” He twists around to look at everyone else in the room, sure that Shuri hadn’t aged, but then there’s Steve, and he’s laughing now—
“Not that long, I swear. I’ll explain it later.”
Bucky stares at the long hair—mostly silvery white, not the dirty blond he’d had—brushing the nape of Steve’s neck and the full beard on his jaw, dark but also shot through with white, and it—fuck, it looks good, Steve wears it comfortably, looks more relaxed and himself than he had when they’d arrived, and Bucky has to take a deep breath, force himself to calm before the monitors he’s hooked up to give him away.
“How are you feeling?” Shuri asks.
“Honestly? Confused. I—” Bucky flicks his gaze to Steve before looking down to his own feet, now swinging over the edge of the table. He swallows hard and takes a deep breath. “HYDRA didn’t exactly do gentle wake-ups,” he mumbles. “Never came out of the tube like that before.”
“Your heart rate is a bit elevated, as are some other endocrine responses. Your subconscious seems to be in a bit of ‘fight-or-flight’ right now, which is completely understandable.” Her words carry a tone of reassurance without pity, which Bucky is thankful for.
In the background, Steve makes a softly pained noise, one that likely only Bucky can hear, and he finds himself unable to look up at him, to see the kicked puppy look on Steve’s face whenever there’s talk about the things Bucky endured during his time with HYDRA. Steve will never not blame himself for what happened to Bucky, he knows this, and right now he just can’t deal with it.
“Did you figure out how to fix my brain?” he asks, focusing on the fact that he’s awake, which means that they have a solution. Or, worst case scenario, and somehow far more likely in his opinion, there’s a fight and he’s being aimed and told to shoot once again.
“The short answer is, I believe so. We’ll need to test it, of course. But I am sure that I have freed your mind from the remaining effects of the code words.”
“If anyone in the world can figure it out, it is my sister.” T’Challa’s soft voice comes from the doorway, and Bucky looks up at him. “Granted, I am probably biased. But if she believes she has freed your mind, then I believe it.”
*****
“So what’s with the grays?”
“They’re silver and white, thank you very much, and Shuri calls them ‘glitter highlights,’ for the record.”
Bucky snickers. “Glitter highlights?” he repeats, confused, but enjoying the fact that Steve is laughing.
“Yeah, that’s what she said. Glitter is this stuff—”
“—Steve, I know what glitter is.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Steve blushes and drops his head, bringing a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. Bucky’s heart stutters.
“Sorry,” Bucky mumbles. “Anyway, I like your glitter hair. It looks good on you. The beard, too.” He moves to the fridge to get some drinks out, helping himself to Steve’s apartment, before Steve can look up and see the inappropriate way in which Bucky is surely looking at him. He doesn’t want to go to his own room. It’s Bucky’s first night out of cryo, and Steve had asked if he wanted company.
Having someone who can read you, even after decades apart, helps.
Despite having lived on the run for two years, he really didn’t want to be alone. Maybe it was just because Steve was here, and not off with Natasha and Sam somewhere, but he certainly wasn’t going to decline Steve’s offer of crashing at his place.
“You really think so? I keep meaning to ask Nat to dye it for me.”
“Don’t!” Bucky answers probably too quickly and too earnestly, but thankfully Steve doesn’t comment on it.
“I’m just saying,” he continues. “It becomes you. Makes you more attractive. If you’re, uh, trying to attract anyone, that is. I mean, your looks don’t matter, because if she don’t like you for you, then she’s gotta answer to me, but. Um.” He stops when Steve starts laughing.
“Back together for barely a day and already you’re trying to set me up with someone, huh? Did Nat get to you somehow when I wasn’t around?”
“What? No, I’m not. Why would she?” He tries to hide how flustered he is by looking in the fridge to see what they can make for food. There is a lot of stuff, and Bucky isn’t sure what some of it is, only that he’s hungry.
“Just, she’s been trying to set me up for years now. I keep telling her that her picks aren’t my type, but she doesn’t listen.”
“You mean their last name wasn’t Carter?” he shoots back immediately, and then mentally cringes because Steve probably could have been happy with Peggy, had things gone differently.
“Oooh, that’s a low blow.” Thankfully, Steve doesn’t sound like he was actually offended by the comment.
“Steve, to my knowledge, you’ve kissed two women in your entire life and they both were named Carter.”
“I’ve kissed more than two people,” he hedges
“Oh really? Then who else have you made time with?”
“I—I’d rather not say.”
“So nobody, then.”
“No, I’ve kissed others than Peggy and Sharon.”
“Who?”
“Buck, c’mon.”
A sudden thought occurs to him and he narrows his eyes as he looks at Steve.
“Steven Grant Rogers. If I find out you were kissin’ on my sister, one-armed or not I swear we’re gonna fight.”
“What? No! I wasn’t kissing Becca!”
“Then tell me who!”
“Thor!” Steve yells. “Alright? I’ve been with him! Fuck’s sake, Bucky. Why does it matter to you, anyway? You got better things to be worrying about right now than who I may or may not have kissed or fucked. I certainly never asked any of the guys their names back before the war.”
They stare at each other in stunned silence.
“Maybe I wanted things to feel normal, okay?” he says softly, trying to keep the hurt from his voice. “I just wanted to not think about my own problems for a bit. And was hoping you’d found someone. Especially since that kiss with Sharon looked really painful from where I was sitting. Which, apparently that’s cuz you like guys instead.”
“I like ‘em both,” Steve offers meekly, face red with—shame? Embarrassment? Bucky isn’t sure. “I just, prefer guys, is all,” he finishes. He’s watching Bucky carefully from beneath his lashes, and Bucky knows that what he says next needs to be the right thing.
Bucky’s head spins. He’d never thought, truly, that Steve was interested in men.
“I—” He must take too long to find the right words, because Steve cuts him off.
“We don’t have to talk about it ever again. It’s fine. I get it if you don’t like it. We grew up with some really strong attitudes against that. I just hope you’re still willing to be my friend, now.”
“You are so fucking stupid. I didn’t take any stupid with me, you kept it all for yourself, you know that? Why would it make me want to stop being your friend? Did you forget about the neighborhood we lived in—oh, well, I guess not, since you said—anyways. I remember the neighborhood is probably the more correct way to say it. So I’d be a shitty person and an even worse friend if I held that kind of thing against you.”
He wants to scream, to yell, to tell Steve that it is more than okay with Bucky because Bucky only really likes guys and he never was actually with any of the girls he dated. But he can’t do that to himself. He can’t get his own hopes up, wishing for a glimmer of a chance with the man now before him, when he’s still not even sure that he’s truly free of everything HYDRA did to his head. Or that he even deserves a chance at happiness himself.
Steve visibly deflates, all the tension in body releasing in a rush of breath. “Really?”
“Yes, really. I know that serum fixed your hearing. You heard me.”
“I—thank you. I haven’t told anyone else, but that’s more just because I don’t want Nat working double-time on the attempts to set me up. Although, thankfully, that’s mostly stopped since we’ve been here.”
Bucky grins, knowing how tenacious and determined Natasha is.
“Well, I can keep it to myself if you’d like. C’mon, help me make something here. I’m starving, and this is gonna take forever with one hand.”
Steve joins him and starts pulling things from cabinets.
“So, Thor, huh?” he asks, teasing, after a minute.
Steve blushes, cheeks flaming above his beard.
“Is it a thing? He’s like, not on Earth, though, right?” He’s trying to be nonchalant about his questions, and not make it sound like he’s fishing for information for himself.
“Nah, it’s not a thing. We, uh, got together a couple times, and he’s nice, I like him, but not like that. He understands me better than most, but…he’s not someone I could settle down with. I’d prefer someone with more shared life experience, you know? Or at least from the same planet.”
Bucky swallows hard, and an awkward silence stretches between them before Steve shakes his head and plates their food, moving to the table.
“Anyway, can we go back to my hair or something? I—I don’t really wanna talk about this right now, if it’s all the same to you.”
“Sure, pal. I’m sorry.” Bucky lingers at the counter and takes a deep breath to collect himself before he joins Steve at the table. He feels like an ass for pushing him like he had, unintentional as it had been. He supposes, in his defense, it’s the longest conversation he’s had with anyone in nearly eighty years. Thankfully, Steve has his back, like always, and he looks relaxed by the time Bucky turns around.
“So when did this start, anyway?” he asks, swatting at the silver and gray lengths tucked behind Steve’s ear.
Steve ducks and bats his arm away, but he’s smiling, so Bucky figures they’re good.
“Couple years out of the ice. We don’t really know why, because all my tests have remained consistent with what the SSR had and with the results I’d gotten from my early SHIELD trials.”
Bucky hums contemplatively as he sits.
“I seem to remember your ma having a few grays early on. Although I always chalked that up to havin’ to take care of you all those years on her own. Personality of a cactus, and all.”
“Jerk. And of course I don’t know about my father’s hair. Nearest anyone can guess, it’s that being on ice for so long damaged the follicles somehow.”
Bucky tips his head as he chews, assessing Steve’s hair. “Okay, but. I was in cryo for all those years. And I was out for what, two years or so when you found me. And I haven’t started going gray yet.”
“Mmm, but it wasn’t consistent though.” Steve waves with his fork as he swallows. “You were in and out, and mine was straight through. And also different kinds of frozen? But who knows. Maybe now yours’ll start turning too.”
“You’re just jealous,” Bucky shoots back with a smirk.
Steve eyes him with a look Bucky can’t decipher.
“Nah,” he finally answers. “You always were the better looking one out of us. No sense in changing that now. Anyway, someone pointed out that Captain America wasn’t supposed to look old, and then the next thing I knew it was being ‘gently suggested’ to me—” Steve actually curves two fingers in the air around the words, and Bucky knows well enough what he means by a gentle suggestion, “—that I start dying my hair to cover the grays. And I was absolutely not allowed to grow out facial hair unless I was planning on dying that as well.”
“Their loss, because you look good. If anything, I’d say it gives you more respectability. Makes you look like you actually know what you’re talkin’ about.”
“Asshole.” Steve throws his napkin at Bucky and Bucky laughs. “But yeah, so I kept it short to make it easier to keep it dyed and have it all blend in. It is nice not to fret with it all the time, but it’s definitely weird to have it this long. But I like it.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Steve
Staying in the city, while Bucky and Ayo go out into the wilderness to test the trigger words, goes against every instinct Steve has.
He’s not worried for Ayo, truth be told.
He believes in Shuri, and is sure that she’s managed to fix Bucky’s brain.
It’s just that he wants to be there for Bucky. He wants to celebrate with him, hold him tight, cry tears of joy with him. He wants Bucky. But Bucky had insisted that Steve stay behind.
“I need to do this alone, Steve. If something goes wrong, I couldn’t bear it if I hurt you again. Besides, Ayo won’t hold back.” Bucky smirks, but they both know he’s telling the truth. Steve wouldn’t be able to handle it if things didn’t work and he ended up with a triggered Bucky awaiting his commands.
Steve paces his apartment, practically wearing a path into the floor in front of the window wall. The darkness beyond taunts him. He checks the clock for the millionth time—it’s just after midnight, they should be done by now, but he hasn’t heard anything, and what if something went wrong, what if Bucky attacked her, what if Shuri was wrong—
There’s a knock at his door and he damn near rips it off the hinges as he flings it open.
“Bucky,” he breathes, eyes racing over Bucky’s face, seeing the obvious signs of him crying, but no sign of having been in a fight and—
“I’m free,” Bucky chokes out, voice wet with emotion, and then he’s crying again, lurching into Steve’s arms. Steve nearly crushes him, tears of his own falling into Bucky’s hair that still smells of fresh air and campfire. He doesn’t lessen his grip as he drags him inside and closes the door.
Bucky pulls back, hand gripping the back of Steve’s head and he makes no move to step away from Steve, but instead he’s looking at him like…well, like how Steve always wanted him to when they were kids, and he doesn’t know what to do with that.
“Steve, I need you to know… And, I don’t think I’m wrong, but if it freaks you out then say so, but…I love you, Steve. I love you so much it hurts to look at you sometimes, and I’ve always loved you, even back before the war, loved you in a way we were told was wrong but—”
Steve’s head spins, and he can’t speak, can’t breathe, because here, now, finally, he’s got everything he ever wanted and he doesn’t know what to say or do as Bucky keeps talking, so instead he surges forward, bringing their mouths together.
It’s far from their first kiss—in hindsight, now he’s not so sure who was tricking who when Bucky was ‘teaching Steve how to kiss’ by kissing him himself, saying that if he was good enough at it then the girls might overlook how small he was—but this one is different from all the rest. It only takes a second for Bucky to recover, and then his hand fists tight in Steve’s hair as he takes control of the kiss. It’s messy and wet as they gasp for breath, cheeks wet with tears, and they’re still in the hallway by the door, and Bucky backs him roughly up against the wall.
“Yes,” Steve pants between kisses. “Yes, I love you, I love you,” he manages, and then Bucky is stealing his breath once again, kissing him with all the pent-up ferocity of years of longing.
“Fuck, I want my other arm right now,” Bucky growls. “Can’t pick you up properly with just one.”
Steve laughs and slides away from the wall, grabbing Bucky’s hand and pulling him along to the bedroom.
“And why are you wearing so many clothes? And shoes in the goddamned house? It’s the middle of the night.”
“I…” Steve looks down. “It was in case they needed me. For you,” he mumbles.
“Well, I do need you, in fact. To be naked. So strip, Rogers.”
Steve can feel his face heat as he clumsily unties his boots and tosses them to the side of the room.
Bucky cocks an eyebrow. “I know for a fact that your ma would smack you upside the head with one of those boots if she saw them just layin’ there like that.”
“Oh my god,” Steve huffs as he stomps over to neaten his shoes. “You told me to get naked, I kinda thought maybe that was taking priority here.”
The sound of Bucky’s laughter—even at his expense—is always music to Steve’s ears, and now is no different. Steve can’t help but grin as he returns to the bedside, where Bucky has already shucked his wrap and is folding it into a surprisingly neat square with just one hand.
“Better?” Steve snarks as he reaches behind his head and pulls his shirt off.
“Listen, punk. Just because the hair on your head started going gray before mine don’t mean nothin. I’m still older than you.”
Steve sets his shirt down and goes for his pants—Bucky is down to just his boxers, so Steve intends to do the same. “I really gotta do something with it,” he says, running a hand through it as it falls in his face again.
“Don’t you dare,” Bucky replies before Steve even finishes speaking.
“What?”
“I loved it when it was too long for your face back in the forties. I dealt with it when it was short and slicked back when you were the All-American Man With A Plan. But this?” Bucky fists his hand in Steve’s hair and tugs, bending his head back. “This is all you. This is my Steve. Not the Steve who belongs to the Avengers. Not the Captain Rogers who belongs to the government. Mine. And I think I’ve earned the right to be a bit possessive of him.”
Steve’s chest heaves at the sudden display.
“Besides,” Bucky adds, nosing along Steve’s exposed neck. “You have no idea how fucking sexy you look with the grays. Damn near gave me a heart attack when I woke up and saw you like this. And you for damned sure were the reason for the first hard-on I had since I broke free of HYDRA and left you on that riverbank.”
His breath is hot against Steve’s neck, and Steve doesn’t try to stop the whimper that rises in his throat, or the way he arches into Bucky’s body.
“Do you know how many times—how many—I’ve had to take myself in hand these last few months, looking at you like this, so fucking gorgeous with this beard and this hair the goddamned cocky confidence you have? All the attitude of the little shit I used to pull out of alley fights in the body of a goddamn Sherman tank. Do you know what that does to me?”
“Bucky,” Steve gasps, clutching at his shoulders.
“And now, I don’t have to hide it. We don’t have to hide. I get to have you. And I’m scared—I’m so fucking scared that this is a dream, and that I’m going to wake up any second now, all by myself, back in my hut by the lake.”
“If you’re dreaming, then I’m having the same dream.”
Bucky steps back and eyes him up and down. “Christ, is it wrong that I told you all that and all I want to do is just lay in bed and fucking hold you? Just have you in my arms—well, my arm—and simply know that you’re mine?”
“Anything you want, I don’t care so long as you’re here.” Steve knows he sounds a bit desperate as he kisses Bucky again, but he can’t be bothered to give a fuck about it. Not when this is finally happening.
“It’s certainly not because I don’t want to. But since we’re baring souls and being honest here, I am fucking exhausted. And you deserve so much more than what I could offer you tonight.”
“Buck, we’ve established that I’m not a virgin. You don’t have to be gentle with me.”
The responding growl that comes from Bucky, and the flash of anger in his eyes, probably shouldn’t be as hot as Steve finds them.
“I know,” Bucky snaps. “But I refuse for our first time together to be terrible.”
“Get in the bed,” Steve laughs, shoving at Bucky. “I’ll tell you all about some of the terrible sex I had so you don’t feel pressured.”
“Well now I feel like we have to. On principle.”
“For fuck’s sake, Bucky. You’ve had a very long, very mentally and emotionally draining day. Stop it. Let’s just go to bed and enjoy the moment. I don’t think, after all this time, that it’s going to matter if it takes another day to get your cock inside me.”
Bucky narrows his eyes at Steve but climbs into the bed, watching Steve as he checks locks and turns out lights. Steve leaves the bedside light on low as he climbs in next to Bucky. Now that the moment is here, though, his stomach flutters—it hardly seems possible that this is actually real. They lay facing each other, and Bucky reaches out to tuck Steve’s hair behind his ear.
“C’mere, punk.”
Steve’s smile is as soft as Bucky’s words, and he scoots closer.
“Hi,” he says, feeling suddenly shy, as if he’s still that scrawny little kid with a secret crush on his best friend.
“Hi.”
Bucky pulls him in and kisses him softly, sweet, and Steve relaxes into his hold.
“I spent so many nights wishing you were kissing me and not some girl,” he confesses, sighing as he tucks his face into Bucky’s chest. Bucky hums quietly as he rests his cheek on top of Steve’s head.
“There were plenty of girls I kissed and wished they were you.”
Steve wraps his arm around Bucky’s back and holds him tight. There had been more than a few winter nights spent huddling like this for warmth, and despite his increased size, he fits against Bucky perfectly still, the only difference being that this time they’re pressed together fully, legs entwined and groins touching—no need to keep space there now for fear of getting an accidental hard-on.
As much as Steve had hoped their frenzied kisses and confessions would lead to him finally knowing what it felt like to make love to Bucky, he has to admit that this is nice, too. He honestly can’t remember the last time anyone held him, and doesn’t want to think about the fact that it was probably before Bucky shipped off to war—and the same truth is likely to apply to Bucky as well.
“I missed you so much.” The words are whispered against the skin over Bucky’s heart, but he knows they’re heard.
“Not leaving you again, sweetheart. I promise.”
***
Waking up in Wakanda very often meant waking up to a flood of light as the sun rose outside his windows, helping him to start the day early as he was prone to doing.
This morning, however, he was receiving a much different kind of wake-up.
Wet heat surrounds him as his hips rock on their own accord. Long hair tickles against his thighs as Bucky swallows him down, takes his cock deep into his mouth, tongue swirling and teeth scraping as he balances himself over Steve’s body.
“Buck,” Steve moans, pressing his head back into the pillows, knowing that he’s going to finish embarrassingly fast.
Bucky pulls off with a gasp and a wicked glint in his eyes.
“Mornin’, gorgeous.” He gives a long lick up the underside of Steve’s shaft and then moves up to kiss him, morning breath be damned. Steve can taste his own saltiness on Bucky’s tongue and whimpers into the kiss. It doesn’t last long, though, and then Bucky is pulling away, rolling onto his back.
“C’mere, baby. Sit that pretty peach on my face so I can use my hand, too.”
It takes only a few seconds for Steve to work out the logistics of it in his brain, and then he’s yanking Bucky’s boxers down before he straddles him, his ass in Bucky’s face as requested, and his cock in Steve’s face.
“Steve,” Bucky stutters, hips jerking as Steve braces himself on one arm and cups Bucky’s balls with his free hand. Bucky growls and nips at the inside of Steve’s thigh before he takes one of Steve’s balls in his mouth, sucking it in as his hand wraps around Steve’s cock, jerking him long and slow.
Steve trails kisses along Bucky’s thighs, slowly working his way toward the long, thick cock before him. He teases licks along the head peeking out from the foreskin before he wraps his hand around the base and takes just the tip in his mouth. Bucky moans, mouth going slack for a moment around Steve’s cock before he redoubles his efforts, doing his best to suffocate himself by taking Steve deep.
Something slick teases along his ass, probing for his hole, and Steve lifts his head, looking to the side as he works Bucky with his hand. Bucky has the jar of coconut oil just within reach, and is making a determined effort to start opening Steve up. Steve braces one hand between Bucky’s legs and wraps his lips around Bucky’s cock once more, before reaching back with his free hand to spread himself, tugging one cheek to the side to give Bucky better access. His arm nearly gives out when Bucky’s finger finally slips inside him, and he hums encouragingly.
It doesn’t take long before Bucky has another finger inside him and has found Steve’s prostate. He’s trying to hold out, but considering how close he’d already been when he’d woken, he knows it’s a lost cause.
“Fuck, I’m gonna—Bucky, wait—”
Steve tries to pull away, wants to make everything last, wants to come with Bucky’s cock deep inside him, but Bucky ignores him, growling as he slips a third finger in and swirls his tongue around Steve’s shaft. Steve moans as he takes Bucky’s cock deep, determined to make him come too. Bucky’s fingers rub relentlessly over Steve’s prostate, and his moans vibrate against Steve’s cock. Far sooner than he’d like, Steve is coming, crying out around his mouthful of Bucky’s cock, which in turn pulses, flooding Steve’s mouth with tangy, bitter warmth.
He licks and sucks and kisses, cleaning Bucky thoroughly, marveling at the fact that Bucky returned to hardness within minutes, until there’s a push against his thigh.
“Turn around and sit on it already, for fuck’s sake. I don’t know how many times in a row I can go and I’m not blowing it all down your throat.”
Steve chuckles as he shifts around until he’s straddling Bucky’s waist. He dips his fingers into the jar and then reaches behind himself to slick Bucky’s cock before he lifts up, guiding the head to his hole. He’s fairly sure it’s going to be a tight fit, because he’s not positive that he’s opened enough for it, but that’s certainly not about to stop him.
Bucky’s hand clamps down on Steve’s waist, and their eyes lock as Steve begins his slow descent into bliss. It burns a bit, as expected, and he’s careful to lift up and then slide back down in increments until they both groan when he’s finally fully seated.
“Fuck, been dreaming about this for forever,” Bucky whispers, and Steve leans forward, bracing his hands to either side of Bucky’s head, and dips his head in for a kiss. Bucky rolls his hips, and Steve gets the hint.
It starts out slow and gentle, Steve’s hair falling around them in a curtain of silver as they share breaths between kisses.
“Love you so goddamned much, even when you were tiny.” Bucky’s eyes glimmer, and Steve can’t let that happen, because if Bucky starts crying then he’ll be crying.
“Not sure I could’ve taken this massive cock when I was tiny,” he teases, shifting position slightly, gasping as Bucky drives deeper.
Bucky laughs. “You’d’ve died trying, though. Woulda been one helluva sight, I’m sure, to see that hole stretched wide around me.”
“Mmm, trust me, I’m still stretched wide,” Steve groans, grinding down on him as he leans back.
“Hngh, yeah, that’s it doll, take it, ride me,” Bucky encourages, as Steve increases his pace. “Christ, you look so good up there. So fuckin’ pretty, sittin’ on my cock. Feels so good. Always knew fucking you would feel like heaven. So tight and hot.”
Steve can feel his cheeks flame at Bucky’s words. Unfortunately, Bucky notices, too.
“Ohh, you like that, sweetheart? Like hearing how good you look bouncing on my cock? Yeah, you do. Look at you, all hard and leaking. You love it. You gonna let me fill that sweet little hole up?”
Steve whimpers.
“Say it, pretty boy. Tell me what you want.”
“Want—want your come,” he stammers out, as Bucky’s hips rise to meet him.
“Where?” Bucky demands, and Steve swears he might come on the spot, with Bucky being as assertive and in charge in bed as he’d always imagined he’d be—granted, he was also the only person Steve ever willingly listened to, ever wanted to boss him around, and it was everything he’d hoped for and more.
“Please,” he whines.
“Tell me.”
“In—in my hole.”
“Fuck,” Bucky growls. “Get on your knees, sweet thing.”
Steve pulls off with a groan and gets into the requested position, thankful to be able to hide his face. He’d had no idea that he’d like all the praise and pet names so much, and certainly hadn’t expected Bucky to run his mouth as much as he was while having sex. He’d never been with talkative partners before, and was startled to discover how much it turned him on.
“God, to think we coulda been doing this years ago. Jesus, look at you.”
Bucky slides in easily, wiggling his hips a bit when he bottoms out.
“Hold yourself open for me. I wanna see,” he says, with a tap to one side of Steve’s ass.
Steve drops his shoulders to the bed with a whimper and reaches back, spreading himself wide.
“Shit, you’re gonna look so pretty with my come running out of you. Because you’re mine, aren’t you? And I get to fill you up, don’t I, sweetheart?” Bucky slams his hips into Steve, punching a startled cry out of him.
“Yes! Yes, fill me. I’m yours. I’ve always been yours.”
Bucky’s hand grips Steve tight and he fucks into him like a man possessed, like he was trying to climb inside him, claim him from the inside out—as if Steve’s soul had ever belonged to anyone else.
“My Steve,” he rumbles, and Steve is too busy moaning, sounds being punched out of him with every thrust of Bucky’s cock slamming into him, to answer.
“C’mon, baby, lemme feel you. Want to feel you come on my cock. There you are, go ahead, touch yourself, yeah, so good, always knew you’d be good for me, ‘m the only one you ever did listen to, huh? Gonna come soon, c’mon, come for me—ahhh good boy, there you go, guh, fuck, yes, so tight—”
Bucky comes on the heels of Steve’s orgasm with a harsh groan, arm wrapped firmly around Steve’s waist. He’s held tight against Bucky’s body as his cock throbs, buried deep inside Steve. Bucky falls forward, forehead resting between Steve’s shoulder blades as he catches his breath. The warm puffs of air send goosebumps across Steve’s sweaty skin, but he’s happy to let Bucky stay there as long as he needs. He gets his arms under him and rests his head on them as he waits, basking in the afterglow. Eventually, Bucky lets out a contented sigh and presses kisses all along Steve’s back.
“That definitely was worth waiting for. Even if I wish I’d had the balls to tell you when we were kids.”
Steve hums as Bucky slips from him and settles on his back once more. He nestles in at his side, resting his head on Bucky’s chest so that he can look up at him.
“Hey, punk,” Bucky says softly, smiling down at him. Steve smiles back, closing his eyes and making a happy sound when Bucky combs his fingers through his hair. “Have I finally learned the trick to shutting you up? All it takes is a good dicking?”
“Asshole,” Steve chuckles.
Bucky’s chest vibrates with silent laughter, and Steve turns his head, trying to hide his face as he feels the blush spreading.
“The beard tickles.” Bucky tightens his hand in Steve’s hair and pulls him back.
“Want me to shave it?”
“Over my dead body.”
“I love you,” Steve says, because he can. He watches as Bucky’s face lights up.
“I love you, too. Even if you do look older than me now.”
“I swear I’m gonna dye it.”
“You do and I’ll shave mine completely off.”
Steve makes a pained noise and reaches up to touch Bucky’s soft waves.
“Glad that’s settled then,” Bucky smirks.
They lay in contented silence for a while, Bucky stroking Steve’s hair, and Steve twirling Bucky’s hair around his fingers, until their stomachs protest the amount of energy they’d spent before even having breakfast.
“So who’s telling Natasha?” Steve asks over his plate of food.
“I’m pretty sure she already knows,” Bucky answers as he chews.
“How? This literally just started last night.”
“Uh huh. But your room and hers are next to each other. And you ain’t exactly quiet, sweetheart.”
Steve chokes on his mouthful of eggs while Bucky looks on, one eyebrow cocked and a smirk on his face. And he decides that he doesn’t care who hears them. Not when he’s this happy, and Bucky is this happy. They’ve both been through enough hell in their lives to have earned their happiness together.
He sits back and takes a sip of his coffee. “Maybe after breakfast we can try and see if you can make me scream loud enough to get us kicked out of the city.”
Bucky stares at him a moment, as if trying to process his words against his deadpan delivery, before he barks out a startled laugh.
“As much as I’d like to take you up on that challenge, sweetheart, I’m supposed to check in with Shuri this morning. In about an hour,” he adds, glancing at the clock. “And that’s not nearly long enough to make my pretty boy scream as I fill his little hole.”
“Fuck,” Steve whispers, squirming in his chair as his face heats and he starts to get hard. He tucks his head and presses his palm against his cock, as if that will do anything to help the situation.
Bucky chuckles, low and promising, as he comes to stand next to him.
“Don’t worry, babydoll,” he says, reaching out to cup Steve’s jaw and lift his head, forcing him to look at Bucky. “Your secret is safe. I won’t tell anyone how sweet you get for me when I tell you how pretty you look with my cock stretching you.”
Steve whines, a high pitched noise that gets stuck in the back of his throat.
“I’m going to go shower and get ready. Why don’t you be a good boy and do the same while I’m gone? Pack yourself a bag. We’ll go to my place tonight, where the only ones to hear you scream are the goats.” Bucky leans down and kisses him, filthy and full of promise, and catches Steve’s bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls back. “Wouldn’t want to get you in trouble with the neighbors, after all. There’s gonna be lots of noise. We got a long time to make up for.”