Archive of Our Own ^beta

1. The Abandoned Warehouse

Bucky could see Sam trying not to wince as Bucky slammed him into the wall. There was a defiance in those eyes. A glare that seemed insulted by Bucky’s actions at this moment. That wouldn’t admit that his wingpack hitting the cement behind them didn’t make a disruptive clang, that the angle wasn’t uncomfortable for Sam.

Bucky knew, deep down, that this was unfair.

That he shouldn’t be acting like this.

But all the panic and anger and frustration from the whole situation was boiling over and he couldn’t stop himself from hissing, “What were you thinking?”

It played over and over and over in Bucky’s head.

Sam.

Flying into the fire.

Sam’s eyes grew sharper, were knives jabbing into Bucky’s fears, as Sam laughed dryly. There was a cutting anger edging Sam’s voice as Sam countered, “What I was thinking? You’re the one who ran into a burning building the firefighters told us wasn’t structurally sound.”

Bucky knew that.

He remembered the feeling of the flames.

The heat of it.

The terror he felt when he saw Sam going in there too.

Maybe they both had death wishes.

“What? So, flying in was a better idea? Huh?” asked Bucky, unable to stop the words tumbling out of his mouth as he prodded at a burn on Sam’s hand, “I’m a super soldier. What’s your excuse?”

Bucky knew it was the wrong thing to say.

A fucked up thing to say.

Unfair and uncalled for.

Sam wasn’t glass. He wasn’t an idiot.

Sam flinched, his mouth nearly crumpling before flattening. At the pain of the recent burn. At the words. And Bucky, even in this state felt instant regret for putting pressure on a wound so recent, for causing pain. At being the type of person who said that in any circumstance. And he was reaching out for Sam’s hand, to – Bucky didn’t know.

The words he just said swirled in Bucky’s thoughts.

Bucky wilted.

“I didn’t mean that,” Bucky said, knowing the apology wasn’t enough, “That was wrong of me to say. I’m sorry, Sam.”

Bucky’s attention kept drifting to the burn on Sam’s hand.

Could Bucky –

Could Bucky hold it?

Was he allowed to hold Sam’s hand?

But Sam’s hand moved up before Bucky could figure out if he was allowed to touch Sam softly like that. Sam’s finger jabbed at a burn on Bucky’s jaw, one already healing. It stung like hell. And okay, Bucky deserved that.

“Fuck you, James. Oh, like you can’t get hurt? Like you’re so fucking invincible? Above pain?” asked Sam as he watched the injury on Bucky, probably watched it heal, “I’ve seen your body, James. You don’t come out of your impulsive decisions unscathed. You have no right to lecture me about split-second decisions that could get me killed. You don’t get to lecture me on my decisions I choose in order to save lives as Captain America. Especially not when you fucking went in there too.”

There was something unsaid there. More to the statement bitten back by Sam. Sam was like that. Open to a point. He kept things to himself when he didn’t want to acknowledge that vulnerability. Bucky got that. He was like that too.

Sam was much smoother about it, though. Subtler. Harder to read. But Bucky had been learning how to. Decipher the tension in Sam’s shoulders. Fingers fidgeting in tampered down energy and adrenaline. The smallest facial movements monitored by Sam at all times. How constantly in control Sam was. How Sam had to be in control.

If this was a year ago, Bucky would let the anger get the better of him. He would have yelled more and stormed out. But he was tired of that. Tired of how shitty that felt. Tired of being that kind of person. He wanted to be better. He wanted to show Sam he was getting better. Farther away from the paranoia and insecurities that made him blow up at the people he loved.

At Sam.

Bucky wasn’t proving that at all right now.

God.

Even impossibly furious, Sam was gorgeous.

A less reflective Bucky might have started a fight with Sam. Some sort of screaming match ending in a shoving match and months apart, angry with one another.

A better, more mature Bucky would probably sit Sam down and have them talk about their feelings.

Bucky’s brain must have malfunctioned, because Bucky was making an inside thought an outside action. Because – Bucky could feel lips.

He was kissing Sam.

Cracked and dry from the exposure to intense heat, but perfect all the same.

Hands.

On the sides of Sam’s face. In his hair. Soft and fluffy, the texture tantalizing on Bucky’s fingers and – fuck.

Bucky shouldn’t be kissing Sam right now. Bucky’s hands shouldn’t be firmly holding Sam’s head. He shouldn’t be feeling indescribably horny as he pressed closer to Sam, felt himself grow and – was that a moan?

Was Sam moaning?

Was Sam opening his mouth for Bucky?

Was that – was Sam feeling this too?

At least one brain cell in Bucky’s body was thinking though, as Bucky tried to pull away, tried to say, “Sam, I’m sorry. I don’t know what – ”

But then Bucky felt Sam pulling Bucky back where he was. Bucky felt Sam. Felt him hardening even with layers of uncomfortable, sticky, ash covered suits between them.

“Don’t stop, asshole,” groaned Sam.

Bucky looked into Sam’s eyes. Fogged with lust, swimming and overwhelmed and asking for more.

And Bucky couldn’t say no.

Never to Sam.

Bucky crowded Sam, diving deeper into Sam’s mouth as he grounded Sam into the wall. The friction good, but not quite there yet, they needed more. Bucky could hear the frustration he was feeling in Sam’s gasps.

“More?” rumbled Bucky, barely a question, but Sam seemed to understand as he nodded profusely.

“More,” Sam demanded, and Bucky didn’t know how anyone could not give more after hearing that.

Bucky was pretty sure he heard a croaky, coughy, overwhelmed laugh as Sam watched Bucky stuff his right hand back into a clean leather glove and spit on it before taking both of their dicks.

Bucky’s body went on muscle memory at that point. Bucky couldn’t think. He wasn’t sure if he was even breathing between kisses. He felt Sam. The warmth of Sam, the hot thickness of Sam next to Bucky’s own dick. Watched Sam’s eyes as he saw every reaction.

Needed Sam to feel good, so good, and Sam babbled incoherently between kisses as Bucky zeroed in on what was truly working for him. Watched Sam’s eyes as he hit that tipping point. Watched the sounds come from Sam’s mouth. Felt Sam pulsing in his hands. And only then had Bucky realized he was coming too. He was coming knowing that he did this to Sam, gave Sam that pleasure.

Fuck.

Bucky held Sam up. He took all of Sam’s weight as he watched Sam blissed out on the wall, staring out into nothing.

Or was Sam staring at him?

It was probably weird that Bucky needed to see this, to know Sam in this moment of ecstasy. To want to ingrain it into his memory. But all the same, he did so.

“I’m glad you’re alive,” whispered Bucky, probably ruining the moment, “I shouldn’t have been a dick like that.”

Sam’s wobbly arms gently guided Bucky close to Sam again in a hug.

“No, you shouldn’t have,” whispered Sam back, “I’m glad you’re alive too.”

*****

2. The Shower

“Surrender, Sam,” growled Bucky.

Pinned.

Sam was pinned.

He could feel all of Bucky pressed against him. Legs encircling Sam’s legs. Hands keeping Sam’s arms in check. Chest pressed to chest. Crotch to crotch.

This was training.

This was practice.

They were in one of the several workout rooms at the new Avengers’ Campus.

Pressing against each other.

Sweaty.

Barely wearing clothes.

Heat thick between them.

Spearmint.

Bucky’s breath smelt like fucking spearmint. Like he brushed his teeth and used a breath mint before sparring with Sam.

And fuck.

Those eyes.

Sam kind of wanted to submit.

Some part of Sam’s brain wanted to relax right under this man and say, I surrender. Now what, James?

Sam kept thinking back on that hand job. He had been thinking about it all week. Had that really happened? Was it some feverish, angry sex delusion that took over Sam before Bucky apologized for his bullshit?

No.

It had to have been real.

Sam remembered how it felt.

Bucky’s hand. Even through the leather.

What more could Bucky do? What more did Sam want to do with him?

Fuck.

Sam flipped Bucky over. An ease in Bucky’s muscles. A curious, silent glance searching for what Sam wanted. As if prepared to playfully shove Sam back onto that mat if Sam gave Bucky the signal.

Fuck.

This really wasn’t the best training section he and Bucky have had. It had been more of a thinly veiled wrestling session that really shouldn’t be on the Avengers’ security tapes.

Sam bit his lip as he felt himself move on top of Bucky and just lay there. Feel Bucky pinned under him. Feel Bucky’s breathing, now a little shaky as Bucky’s intense gaze narrowed on Sam’s lips.

Before Sam pulled out the red flag that he swiped from Bucky.

“Sorry, Buck. Looks like I win,” Sam might have accidentally purred, “Better luck next time.”

“What should your prize be?” asked Bucky, gravelly and too intense.

Sam didn’t know how to think when Bucky’s voice got that deep. Could Bucky feel how that voice went straight to Sam’s dick? Sam was pretty sure Bucky could feel it with how Sam was laying on top him.

“I have an idea. A treat for me,” Sam whispered lowly to Bucky before Sam really knew what he was about to do.

Sam felt a little light-headed, jerkily looking around the empty training room before standing up. Sam took Bucky by the hand. Some impulse was telling Sam to just shove the hand down his pants and go from there, but Sam kept reminding himself security cameras.

Sam seriously shouldn’t be this horny in the training room. Someone was going to notice.

Sam’s vision swam a bit as he found their way to the locker rooms basically by memory alone.

Shower.

People.

Weren’t going to check the showers, right?

It was a vague, small, flimsy thought as Bucky seemed to be getting the picture and just – ripped Sam’s and his own clothes into absolute shreds.

Sam.

Would think about what the fuck he was supposed to wear later.

Sam laughed, rolling with it as he pulled Bucky into one of the small shower stalls and fell to his knees.

The water was hot, almost burning but in that good way. The steam was adding to Sam’s lightheadedness, but it was nice. It made this feel a little more surreal, but it also felt like a thin layer of cover as Sam watched Bucky.

Bucky growing right before him.

Fuck, why was Bucky getting somehow bigger?

Sam glanced up at Bucky, hoping for some sign. And he really got one. A nice, devastating groan that made Sam push forward with the impulsive thought plaguing his mind ever since their dicks pressed together.

Sam’s hand wrapped around Bucky’s shaft. Sam felt the weight of it. The girth. Acknowledged the length of it as he pumped his hand slowly, felt it grow just that much larger.

Fuck.

Sam wasn’t going to attempt this, was he? This thought he just couldn’t get out of his head?

But he looked up at Bucky, at how Bucky was waiting for whatever Sam wanted, and Sam’s mind stopped thinking.

Couldn’t think.

Sam only wanted.

And Sam, looking Bucky straight in the eyes, wrapped his lips around the head of Bucky’s dick. Moaned at the salty, slightly bitter taste of him as he began to slowly inch himself lower and lower down on Bucky.

And this was the challenge.

Sam fucking loved challenges, and he knew this was going to be a fun one.

How wide could Sam open his mouth to accommodate Bucky without too much teeth? How long could Sam do this before his jaw started hurting? How deep could Sam get Bucky inside him?

And yes, all the competitiveness and need to be the best sparked the adrenaline rush Sam was having, the want to do this, to move faster, to find ways to get Bucky to moan like that again, to know that Sam was fucking fantastic at this. That he loved this, the feeling of control from this. Knowing Bucky falling apart was because of him, because of Sam.

But that fell a bit to the wayside as he locked eyes with Bucky. The way Bucky watched him.

Sam, reluctantly, felt walls falling between them with the way Bucky’s hands gently brushed against Sam’s cheeks. The way Bucky’s unfocused eyes seemed to clearly see Sam, see what was behind what Sam was doing.

A softness crept into Sam’s actions. To ever bob. Every groan on Bucky’s dick. Sam was overwhelmed by it, tapping out, ‘Yes, it’s okay. Do it,” in Morse as Bucky fumbled through warning Sam about coming. Before groaning a, “I really can’t think in Morse now, Sam,” and Sam went with plan B. Squeezed thick thighs he had been meaning to squeeze for a while and moan approvingly, which Bucky seemed to understand in the end.

Sam couldn’t do much but swallow as Bucky spilled down his throat, moan at the feeling of it, at watching Bucky’s face as he came. Sam felt reluctant to let Bucky go as Bucky’s soft dick slid out of his mouth. But there, wobbly-legged, Bucky bent down and kissed Sam. Kissed Sam senseless, tasting himself in Sam’s mouth as Bucky’s hand made quick work of Sam’s impossibly hard dick.

Kept kissing Sam as Sam stumbled abruptly into his own orgasm.

Held Sam and kept kissing Sam and worked Sam’s dick until he was soft.

And then just kept holding Sam.

Kept kissing Sam.

On the ground in those locker room showers.

*****

3. The Couch

Bucky wouldn’t say that he usually was this horny.

No.

He wasn’t usually this horny, that’s for sure.

Bucky wasn’t trying to think about it. Because.

Well.

Sam was under the weather.

Sam was under the weather and it was only Bucky and Sam at the house right now. They were curled up on the couch, covered in blankets, watching old romcoms because Sam said that was just what people did when they felt like this now.

Bucky wasn’t going to fight Sam over it. The films had been fun so far.

And okay, well, maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea to be cuddled right behind Sam this entire time. Sam had said it was okay, and Bucky could be “Big Spoon”, but maybe this was a giant mistake, because the longer they were like this, watching romance over and over again, the more self-aware Bucky felt in his position.

There were strangely a lot of sex scenes. Bucky doesn’t remember so many romcoms having sex scenes. Not that he’d seen a lot.

The more he felt Sam push closer to Bucky on a sofa not meant for two grown men. The more he felt Sam’s ass rub against his crotch. The more he let himself wrap around Sam and pull Sam even closer.

And then Sam moaned.

Sam moaned and Bucky felt a deliberate press of Sam’s ass.

And there was no way to hide it. To hide what he was feeling from Sam, not with how close they were. Not with how Sam made that sound.

“Sam?” and it came out more like a moan than anything, a moan on Sam’s skin.

That.

Wasn’t appropriate.

Right?

Well, Bucky would say his dick poking out of his sweatpants and pressing into Sam’s pajama bottom covered ass was the least appropriate thing happening here, but his mind was still very much stuck on how he was speaking into Sam’s skin and holding him close.

“Anything,” Sam breathed back, gasped as he pressed his ass closer, “Tell you if I don’t want it.”

Bucky might have groaned louder than the woman currently groaning on the living room TV.

This was a bad idea.

This wasn’t a couch Bucky could just fuck up.

Sam’s mom used to own this couch.

Bucky could be staining Sam’s dead mother’s couch.

When was Sarah getting home again?

His brain compromised by placing the blanket that was once covering them under them both. He gently rolled Sam, positioning them so that Sam was on his stomach and he could feel Sam’s moan. He could feel Sam reacting to Bucky’s weight on him. Sam’s groan as Sam watched from out of the corner of his eye while Bucky carefully pulled down Sam’s pajama bottoms, his own sweatpants just enough.

Bucky’s eyes watched Sam’s, only one turned enough to see Bucky.

Watched the way Sam snickered, how that one eye filled with delight as Bucky fumbled through his pockets, pulling out the lube he used for his arm.

This would work for what he was about to do.

Bucky rubbed the inside of Sam’s thighs down, making them slick. He felt Sam moan at it, watched the way Sam bit his lip watching Bucky lube his dick.

Bucky held Sam.

Gently.

Kisses on Sam’s shoulders. Sam’s neck. Sam’s jaw. The way Sam shivered and rumbled at every light peck, like he still wasn’t expecting it.

Was Bucky not supposed to kiss Sam that softly?

Bucky couldn’t help himself, though. He wanted to. Sam liked it.

It couldn’t be too weird, right?

There was trust there. And Bucky wasn’t sure if he had earned it yet, but he was grateful for it. He wanted to be someone Sam trusted.

He was someone Sam trusted.

Bucky felt the immensity of that. After he adjusted Sam’s position, situated Sam just where he wanted Sam, Bucky hovered there, just… flooded with how vulnerable Sam allowed himself to be with Bucky now.

Sam, noticing something, looked up at Bucky. His smile soft like he knew something just from Bucky freezing like this. Sam twisted a bet, placing a hand on Bucky’s.

“You okay?” asked Sam, much too kindly for the situation they had both found themselves in.

Bucky sniffled. Felt Sam wipe away a few stray tears.

“I appreciate this, you know?” said Bucky, blubbered, really.

Sam quirked an eyebrow.

“The sex? Me too, thank you for sex,” said Sam as they both snickered.

“No, I mean. You. You don’t open up like this to most anyone and I understand that and I don’t take it for granted. Is all I’m saying,” said Bucky, “It’s an honor.”

“To have sex with me? It is,” said Sam obtusely before the joke fell to the wayside, a quiet joy in his words as he added, “No. I get it. You don’t open up much either so. I appreciate you too.”

Bucky probably should be focusing on the task ahead. All he could really focus on was Sam’s hand rubbing Bucky’s face thoughtfully.

“Right. So. Sex. We’re doing sex still, Mr. Sicko?” asked Bucky as Sam cackled.

Turned back to his pillow, got back into the position Bucky had placed him in.

“I’m sick, not a – one more crack like that, and no,” said Sam in a way that Bucky didn’t really believe.

Bucky lined up with Sam’s thighs.

“Is this still okay?” whispered Bucky into Sam’s skin.

Because that was just what Bucky did now, Bucky supposed.

Sam groaned into the pillow under his head, his thighs pushing back to envelop Bucky’s dick.

And he was hot. Blazing hot. And tight.

Bucky deliriously checked Sam’s temperature with his hand before moving just in case. Sam seemed annoyed at that, pushing farther onto Bucky’s dick as they both groaned.

Well.

Sam didn’t have a fever, at least.

Bucky propped Sam up with one hand, the other on Sam’s dick as he began a slow drag in and out of the firm softness of Sam’s thighs.

Sam was beautiful like this. In the light of the midday sun and the television. The sweat glistening on Sam with every slow thrust between his thighs, every pump of Bucky’s hand on Sam’s length.

“Closer,” Sam groaned, a vulnerability to his voice, between gasps, “Want you closer.”

Bucky bent over Sam. Chest lightly on Sam’s back; feeling Sam’s muscles moving along with Bucky on this quick climb to the edge despite the slow speed of each thrust.

And Bucky felt it.

In every muscle of Sam before he groaned his ecstasy; before Bucky felt the wetness roll over his hand.

And Bucky moaned.

Moaned into his last few thrusts as he fell apart as well; toppled over that edge too.

Bucky kissed Sam’s back. Sam’s shoulders. Laid on top of Sam peppering him with these overwhelmed kisses as Sam began playing with Bucky’s clean hand, softly massaging it.

*****

4. The Office

“Come in,” mumbled Sam into his paperwork as he heard the knock at his door.

It was polite.

The way the door silently opened and closed.

Had that been the lock clicking shut?

No.

Probably Sam’s imagination.

Probably.

And Sam probably shouldn’t know who it was who entered his office without looking up, but Sam knew the sounds of those footsteps. He was familiar with the way Bucky made himself known whenever he came into Sam’s office. An added layer of respect for Sam’s position. Sam appreciated that.

“You’ve been holed up in here all week,” said Bucky, his voice growing closer to Sam.

It wasn’t accusatory. It wasn’t anything. The statement was plain, even a little too casual.

Sam glanced up, smiling as Bucky walked around Sam’s desk.

“That’s what happens when I procrastinate on my mission reports,” sighed Sam as he rubbed his eyes and swiveled his chair Bucky’s direction, “A week’s worth of boring busy work.”

Bucky nodded, and there was something playful there, something offered as he leaned on Sam’s desk and said, “I feel like you deserve a treat while you’re doing all this work.”

“A treat?” echoed Sam, amused.

Bucky walked over to the office’s couch and grabbed a few of the pillows before heading back to Sam.

“A little treat,” said Bucky, pinching his fingers, “Just a little, tiny treat. If you. Well. Want one, Mr. Overachiever. Keep you relaxed and stress-free as you deal with the mountain of papers you have.”

Sam snorted, not really sure where this was going as Sam allowed Bucky to move his swivel chair away from his desk.

“What do you have in mind to keep me relaxed and stress-free?” asked Sam, and Sam knew what this was leading to, he just knew it.

But he really didn’t.

Sam raised an eyebrow as he watched Bucky drop pillows down.

Bucky placed his hands on Sam’s knees. Leaned closer to Sam’s face.

“Tell me if you don’t like anything?” whispered Bucky, his lips impossibly closed to Sam’s.

Sam kissed Bucky.

“Yeah,” whispered Sam onto Bucky’s lips, “I trust you.”

“I’m going to swallow, so don’t worry about it,” said Bucky with a fucking wink before kissing Sam.

Kissing Sam much too softly after a sentence like that.

Wasn’t this supposed to be something Sam did when he was angry? Or filled with adrenaline? Or just wanting something that felt good?

What was Sam doing?

This was Sam’s office.

Sure, the door was locked and there wasn’t a way for people to see what Sam and Bucky were doing, but Sam understood that this was indeed a very inappropriate setting for this.

There wasn’t some big build-up to it. Sam hadn’t almost died, nor had Bucky. Sam hadn’t even been on a mission all week. All Sam had done that day was paperwork. Not even a lot of paperwork.

But here Sam was, sitting at his office chair.

Bucky kissing Sam as he pressed the heel of his hand on Sam’s crotch, felt Sam fill. Distantly, Sam knew Bucky was unzipping Sam’s pants. Was pulling Sam out through his underwear and jeans.

Sam groaned at the touch. At Bucky’s hand wrapped around his dick, the way it stroked him casually as Sam let Bucky’s tongue explore his mouth.

Sam feverishly thanked himself for making sure his office was soundproofed as he moaned at the trail of lips and teeth Bucky began down Sam’s jaw, his neck before focusing his attentions much lower on Sam.

Sam distractingly wondered if Bucky even fit under his desk.

The answer seemed to be a bewildering yes.

“Just go back to your work when I’m in position,” said Bucky casually.

Sam.

Might have yelled.

Sam might have yelled when one second, it was just Bucky’s hand and Bucky’s lips practically giving the head of Sam’s dick a chaste peck on the tip to Sam’s entire dick surrounded by velvety soft heat.

Sam’s chair pushed back into its regular place with somehow Bucky fitting between Sam’s legs under the desk.

God.

The way Sam could feel himself inside Bucky’s throat. Warm and snug. The way Bucky relaxed around him.

Sam could swear he saw a grin on Bucky’s face as he sat there. Hands on Sam’s thighs. Something glassy, utterly at peace in Bucky’s eyes despite the fact that he had just taken all of Sam in. To the fucking root.

Which was maddening.

It was all at once.

Sam felt utterly distracted by the immediate sensation of it.

Sam supposed most people aren’t really prepared for someone just taking their whole dick in their mouth, but here Sam was. Battling not to accidentally choke Bucky by thrusting in. Unable to really get his bearings for a solid ten minutes.

Of somehow.

Bucky just.

On him.

Right there.

And this wasn’t normal friend behavior.

Was this even a normal friends with benefits behavior?

Sam had no fucking clue. Sam really needed to ask more people. But he didn’t want to ask people because he liked that this was just a he and Bucky thing. That they were in this grey area bubble, fumbling around together.

Sam felt much more grounded when he felt Bucky’s hands on his thighs.

Light.

Rubbing circles with their thumbs.

Sam breathed through the feeling of it, collected enough to at least glance down. Bucky gave a smile with his eyes. Patted Sam’s thigh as if to tell him to go ahead, just do work while he was down there.

Which.

What was wrong with Sam that he was actually beginning to do work as Bucky hung out. Just.

On Sam’s dick.

Sucking every once and a while. Maybe a bob here and there.

Sam felt oddly relaxed by it. Weirdly felt safe in Bucky’s hands, or maybe mouth as it was. Sam had no clue how he filled out any of the reports. Some tiny voice in the back of Sam’s head said he was probably going to get a lot of confused calls about it from Joaquín when Jay gathered the reports for storage.

But Sam felt light and relaxed as he finished the remaining ones on his desk.

Winced a bit as he embarrassingly, accidentally rolled his hips. But then Bucky moaned. Almost too into it as Sam hesitantly rolled his hips again. Felt Bucky choke and groan, his hands lightly tapping on Sam’s thighs in approval.

It wasn’t even a fast pace. It wasn’t any pace or rhythm really. It was barely any movement, but Sam felt every milimeter as kept rolling his hips and he was pretty sure Bucky could feel it too. Bucky kept moaning brokenly like that. Sam felt Bucky groaning, groaning so much and god, that was Bucky coming. That was Bucky coming and Sam kept slowly, intimately fucking into Bucky’s mouth.

Sam’s own orgasm embarrassingly only started when Bucky’s eyes lock with his, when he saw – fuck, adoration in those eyes? Affection? Felt hands gingerly holding onto Sam’s ass like Bucky just wanted to keep holding Sam forever?

Sam was seeing stars as he thought about those hands on him for the rest of his life, the idea of Bucky lovingly giving him head for all of eternity.

Fuck.

Sam needed to stop thinking like that. He really needed to stop doing this… right? Sam couldn’t help himself, though, as he petted Bucky’s hair. As he watched Bucky rest his head on Sam’s thighs. As he wiped a little excess from the corner of Bucky’s mouth.

He couldn’t stop himself from matching Bucky’s dopey smile as Bucky croaked, “Well, I should leave you to your work.”

“No. Stay for a little while longer,” Sam rasped back, giving Bucky’s head little scratches, “A few more minutes.”

“As you wish,” murmured Bucky and Sam kind of wanted to keep Bucky between his legs forever.

*****

5. The floor

“House to ourselves?” asked Bucky curiously as Sam joined Bucky in the hallway from the kitchen.

Because.

That didn’t happen often.

Sarah and the boys weren’t usually both away for the night.

“Yeah,” said Sam very casually, even shrugging, “A fisherman convention is in town and both the boys have sleepovers to go to, so it’s just us.”

“We’re. In the house. Alone,” said Bucky, and he wondered if his swallow was audible.

Sam turned his gaze at him.

Was that warm or fiery?

Was that sultry?

Was Bucky reading this wrong?

“Yeah,” said Sam, his voice devastatingly thicker with every word, “We’re in the house. Alone. Tonight.”

“Just tonight?” asked Bucky weakly, because he was really having trouble thinking right now, with Sam drenched with sweat and in those running shorts after that afternoon jog of his.

Because god forbid the man tempt Bucky once a day with short shorts and thin shirts in the hallway.

How Sam was just.

Eating.

The last bites of that popsicle.

Bucky’s favorite flavor too, because Sam kept eating those popsicles for some reason.

Did Sam even like cherry-flavored popsicles?

“Yeah,” said Sam before finishing the popsicle, “Just tonight.”

Sam tossed the remaining stick perfectly into the bathroom trash bin without breaking eye contact with Bucky. From the fucking hallway.

Because of course Sam did.

Sam walked to Bucky. Bucky frozen in the hall. Sam’s hand light on Bucky’s chest, his breath smelling of cherry as Sam said way too innocently, “I wonder what we should do.”

Bucky felt Sam’s fingers tapping on him. Waiting for a cue from Bucky. A sign. A desire.

There was a smugness in it. Because, damn it, Sam knew Bucky wanted this too. Sam was almost obnoxiously self-assured in his intuition on this. He was annoyingly hot in how confident he seemed, how nonplussed he was waiting for Bucky’s brain to catch up with the information Sam just gave him.

Bucky gave in to the need. Grabbed Sam and crushed their lips together like this was still the first time.

It always felt new. Maybe because Bucky couldn’t believe that they had done this before. On several occasions.

It was still a surprise that Sam trusted Bucky enough to take over. To hold the reigns as they impossibly fell into another moment of lust and something profoundly more that neither of them were clearly ready to acknowledge.

Or maybe Bucky was reading too much into this.

Bucky knew how he felt about Sam.

He would have to ask Sam how he felt too. Eventually.

But for now, they were stumbling clumsily through the hallway as Bucky found his way back to Sam’s room and managed to at least get them inside the room.

Bucky was an adult.

He was literally too old to be acting this way, surely.

Bucky was over a hundred.

They were so close to a bed.

Yet here he was. Pulling all the pillows, linens, and covers off Sam’s bed and onto the floor hastily before the two of them fell on top of the mound.

And Bucky could hear Sam snickering. Laughing. Into Bucky’s shoulder as Bucky scrambled to pull out the packet of lube and condom that he just so happened to have.

For.

Reasons.

“I don’t know if I’m patient enough for going through all the steps,” moaned Sam as Bucky ground down onto Sam, nibbled at Sam’s jawline.

“Don’t worry,” Bucky whispered into Sam’s ear, nipping at it, “I might be… already ready.”

Sam pushed Bucky up, enough for them to look each other in the eyes.

“You were thinking about me earlier?” breathed Sam, something more in his voice, something Sam didn’t sound prepared for.

And if it was anyone else, that would have come off as a little too into themselves. But who were either of them kidding?

“Think about you all the time when we’re apart,” rumbled Bucky, gazing down at Sam.

Watched Sam moan. Shiver under him.

Grow beneath him.

“Me too,” whispered Sam, as if he didn’t mean to say it at all, like he didn’t know he said it, “All the time.”

Sam laughed as Bucky tore off their clothes. Carefully. Definitely not ripping the clothes to shreds this time. Bucky tore the lube packet open with his teeth. A little messy, but Sam didn’t seem to care. He was just staring up at Bucky.

“I was in the shower, thinking about how you look when you come back from a jog,” said Bucky, and it came off more honest and soft than sexy even with his fingers inside himself, “You sparkle in the sun, Sam.”

Sam choked out a laugh.

“I sparkle?” said Sam as his hands gripped Bucky’s thighs.

Sam’s eyes danced over Bucky; they wandered between Bucky’s face, his dick, his thighs, his chest, and where Bucky’s fingers were. Hungry. But also a quieter thing under that. A memorization of curves and corners on Bucky’s body.

“You do,” said Bucky, and he knew he was gushing now, “It’s so beautiful. I can’t take my eyes off you. And you’re so relaxed afterward too, Sam. You’re just happy. Which is insane because no one I know actually likes jogging, yet it makes you so happy.”

Sam’s eyes watered. They looked on the brink of tears as Sam whispered, “You think I’m beautiful?”

Bucky stopped everything.

He leaned close. Softly kissed Sam’s trembling lips.

“Sam, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” said Bucky, dead serious.

Bucky wiped away a few tears.

He kissed Sam for a while.

Just.

Because.

Because that was what Sam needed.

“Hey, weren’t we about to?” asked Sam, a little out of it.

Bucky snickered.

“Yeah, let me get to that. If you’re still up for it?” asked Bucky as he watched Sam.

Sam sniffled, grabbing a tissue from the box on his dresser and wiping away tears and remaining snot before he nodded. He smiled up at Bucky with that mesmerizing gap-toothed smile.

“Definitely,” said Sam.

And maybe they kissed a little more. Distractingly so before Bucky opened the condom and rolled it onto Sam. Lubed it up. Lined up with Sam.

Bucky smiled at Sam.

Sam smiled back.

And Sam moaned as Bucky lowered himself onto Sam.

Felt Sam.

Inside of him.

A hot piece of Sam making a home for itself inside of Bucky. Bucky was lost in that. Lost in Sam’s eyes. Bucky breathed, adjusting to Sam. The way Sam fit so perfectly inside of him.

“What?” asked Sam curiously.

Like he could tell what Bucky was thinking. Bucky tapped his fingers lightly on Sam’s chest, still deliciously distracted by Sam inside him.

“I haven’t done this in a while,” said Bucky quietly.

“Sex? We had sex three days ago,” Sam pointed out.

Bucky snorted.

“No, um. Had someone. In me,” whispered Bucky like somehow, someone other than Sam would hear him and slam the door open, “I think you’re the second person I’ve ever let inside me like this.”

Bucky hadn’t thought of Arnie Roth in decades. Almost a century. How this felt on that night before Bucky left for war. The rough, quick sex in a dark alleyway, scared someone would find them before it was over.

Sam’s hands rested on Bucky’s.

“Haven’t done this in a while either,” whispered Sam back, “Only person I’d let in like you’re letting me in you was Riley. And. Well. I guess Steve too – ”

“What?” Bucky blurted, annoyed, “You let – Stevie was – When did you two even date?”

Sam snickered like this was funny. Like Stevie, up in fucking moon retirement wasn’t laughing down at Bucky because he did the horizontal tango first with Sam.

“When we just met. Only a few dates, really,” said Sam wistfully, “Good lay. Better lay than date. Man stood me up for breakfast.”

“Well, I won’t stand you up at breakfast,” huffed Bucky, like that even mattered since he was decidedly not dating Sam at the moment.

What was he even doing with Sam at the moment? Was this that sex buddies thing from those romcoms? It felt like more.

“I know, Buck. Hard to stand me up when we live in the same house,” snickered Sam.

“No, I mean, if I lived in a completely different house, I’d make sure to be there for you,” explained Bucky, “I’ll always be there for you, Sam.”

Sam looked up at Bucky, eyes just… big. And blinking back tears again. His smile mushy and twisting Bucky’s heart into knots.

“I know, James,” whispered Sam.

Bucky felt like he was unraveling. This was so intimate. Too intimate. Bucky craved this like he needed it to breathe. He wanted more of Sam smiling like that. He wanted to see that for the rest of his life.

No.

Sam probably didn’t want that.

He didn’t know what Sam wanted.

Bucky needed to make this feel less like making love. Because if it felt like that, then Bucky would get ideas. Would tell Sam things he probably didn’t want to hear from Bucky.

So, Bucky pushed back the mess of his heart and smirked. Slowly moving off of Sam, then plunging back down. Hearing the coughed-out groan from Sam as he did it again.

And again.

And again.

Faster.

And faster.

Needing more sounds from Sam, feeling Sam hit that spot right at that angle.

Feeling Sam’s hands lightly holding onto Bucky’s hips.

He watched Sam. Watched for what made Sam moan. What made Sam accidentally fuck into Bucky at surprising times that punched a groan out of Bucky. What made Sam smile. What made Sam’s eyes glaze with lust and need. What was sending Sam over the edge.

Bucky didn’t actually know it could feel this good.

That someone being inside like this could make him feel so utterly connected to Sam. It wasn’t like this with Arnie. It wasn’t even close.

Bucky really needed Sam to feel this too. He hoped Sam was feeling the same. The way Sam gasped and groaned, the way Sam held onto Bucky, kept looking at Bucky even as his eyes lost focus – Bucky was pretty sure Sam was feeling this too.

Bucky watched the late afternoon sunlight shining on Sam’s skin. Glittering with Sam’s sweat.

“Beautiful,” moaned Bucky and Bucky felt it, he felt Sam pulsing inside him as Sam groaned, whimpered.

Sam moaned through his orgasm as his hand moved to help Bucky reach his own.

Sam was gentle.

He was gentle with Bucky as he pumped Bucky’s dick. He was watching Bucky for his reaction, and Bucky wanted to blame that on how fucking competitive the man was, but some small voice in Bucky’s head said that this was love.

This was someone caring about him.

This was the kind of warmth of someone who wanted Bucky to feel good too.

And Bucky couldn’t stop himself, surprised by how few strokes Sam did before he was painting Sam’s chest. How close he must have been to orgasms. How Sam kept stroking him even as Bucky moaned and shivered lines of cum onto Sam before slumping onto Sam.

Bucky sat there. Still on top of Sam. Sam still inside of him. Bucky just sort of… massaged Sam’s chest as Sam stared out into space, completely boneless under Bucky.

Bucky wondered how long this would last.

*****

+1. The Bed

Sam pulled Bucky in for another kiss.

And another.

Letting Bucky guide them back to Sam’s room as they kept making out.

Because.

Sam was happy.

His family liked the guy he was dating. Bucky was swearing on his honor basically to make Sam’s family love him. And Sam was bursting with too many emotions.

He was happy and he just wanted to live in this feeling.

He wanted to be with Bucky.

And he was glad that they had figured this out, even if this might become an embarrassing story for Gideon to tell.

But Sam wasn’t focusing on that now.

No, he was focusing on the world tilting on its axis as he and Bucky fell onto Sam’s bed. Sam laughed, kicking off his shoes because he remembered, right, he had shoes on, before scooching farther onto the bed with Bucky.

Sam sunk into his bed. Everything on there was soft as a cloud. Pillows, covers, mattress. And Sam snickered. He fucking snickered into Bucky’s kisses before Bucky pulled up for air. Gazed down at Sam with those adoring eyes as he asked, “What?”

“First time we actually made it to the bed,” Sam pointed out.

He and Bucky.

Fell into a bout of laughter. The two of them a puddle of giggles on this cloud-soft bed.

“I can’t believe it took us this long to get to a bed,” laughed Bucky.

“I kind of do. I’ve been way too horny about you,” Sam snickered.

“Same,” Bucky said softly, winding down from the giggles, “I just – I see you. And I want to be with you.”

Bucky inched closer to Sam.

His eyes intense.

Sam didn’t know how anyone could look away from Bucky’s eyes.

“I want to be close to you,” murmured Bucky, his lips so close to Sam’s, “I want to hold you when you’re having a rough day. I want to kiss away your stress. I want to hold your hand when we walk. And – then I get absurdly horny about it and we end up like this.”

Sam grinned.

“I don’t mind. I like you horny,” said Sam as he held Bucky close, grinding up onto him, “Really want to feel you inside me this time. Feel this inside of me.”

Sam. Might have groped Bucky’s crotch.

Sam had no regrets.

“I always want to be inside you, Samuel,” growled Bucky before awkwardly adding, “Uh. Not. In a weird way. But. You know? A sexy way.”

Sam snorted.

“I can’t believe I like you so much. But I kind of do. Weirdo,” Sam sighed before pulling Bucky into a kiss.

And Sam relaxed. He became pliable to Bucky’s silent requests as Bucky began to strip Sam and himself. Article by article, the layers between them disappeared until there was nothing but their bodies.

Sam groaned as his length dragged on Bucky’s abs. How their dicks rubbed against one another with each glide. And Sam wondered if Bucky was once again just ready for this exact situation because Sam felt Bucky’s fingers circling his hole.

“You’re still okay with this?” Bucky somehow said because Bucky miraculously had a few working brain cells left.

Sam moaned at the suggestion. He pushed down, feeling that first lubed finger breach him and needing that. Needing more.

Sam’s lust screamed for fast and quick and maybe feeling a little too achey at the end of all this. He wanted his body to remember this for days. To have a memory of Bucky’s shape inside him. He wanted now even if that wouldn’t exactly be all pleasure. His wants screamed in impatience. And that came out in grumbles between groans, but not much else.

Sam’s body went along with the pace Bucky was setting. This slow, lingering pace that made Sam squirm. Made Sam feel every millimeter Bucky moved inside him with that one finger. Made everything feel almost too much, almost too vulnerable. And Sam would have pushed down on it. Sped up the pace. But Bucky’s gaze kept him pinned where he was.

Every, “You’re so beautiful,” that poured from Bucky’s lips was making Sam’s heart race in a way he wasn’t used to, feel seen in a way he rarely was, but Sam stayed put as Bucky had his slow way with him.

Sam lost time. He didn’t remember when one finger became two or two became three, but Sam was all moans and shivers as Bucky prodded and explored Sam’s prostate. Sam was falling apart, his dick heavy and thick and drooling as it bobbed ever so slightly to every slow thrust of those fucking fingers.

Sam didn’t really have words. He was blubbering something to Bucky, anything, as he shook and clung to Bucky.

Sam wanted Bucky inside him already.

Sam wanted this to never end.

Sam didn’t know what he was saying, but when Bucky pulled his fingers out, Sam demanded, “Put those back where they were.”

Bucky just smiled.

Like Sam was being cute.

Like Sam was fucking playing.

Like he hadn’t just pulled away some intense fucking pleasure.

“Look, I can put the fingers in, but I think we need to work our way to having both fingers and a dick, Sam,” said Bucky fucking casually.

But Sam could see just how affected Bucky was.

Sam could see how much of a liar that tone was when Bucky’s dick was throbbing like that. With that condom on. Sam couldn’t really find the words. Sam huffed and moaned as he locked his ankles behind Bucky’s narrow ass and pulled him close as best as Sam could in his unraveled state.

He could feel Bucky lining up.

And, god, it was like the fucking fingers. Slow. Tantalizing. No matter how much Sam wanted to just split himself open on that dick, all Sam could do was moan at the intensity of feeling every single inch of that dick sheath itself inside Sam. Even at this pace, it was still so much. And all Sam could do was let his legs slump off Bucky as he felt it all. His heart was racing, panting even though they hardly begun. Lost in sensation and care.

Fuck.

Sam didn’t remember it feeling like this.

Sam didn’t know if it ever felt like this with anyone else.

It had been so long since someone was inside Sam, but this was so much. So different, even to Riley. He didn’t know what to do with everything bubbling up inside him. He didn’t know where to put his hands. Though. Maybe it was okay that his hands were just relaxing to Sam’s sides. God, Sam’s entire body was already jello and they hadn’t even started yet.

Then there was Bucky, who kept staring into Sam’s eyes and whispering things like, “You feel so good, Sam.”

Like Sam wasn’t literally just lying there and moaning as he felt Bucky’s dick bury itself to the root. How Bucky’s hands were gently angling Sam so Bucky would hit that spot inside Sam and keep pressing it as he continued farther into Sam.

Like Bucky giving Sam a moment as he peppered Sam with little, light kisses, held Sam at an angle where he just kept feeling that pressure on his prostate wasn’t the most overwhelming thing in the world. Kept his so very blue eyes on Sam like this was it for him. It was just Sam. Now until the end of time. As if all he wanted to do was make Sam feel good.

This was one of the most intimate moments of Sam’s life.

Sam didn’t know how to even react to it other than shiver and keep staring at the man who was staring at him.

At Bucky.

Bucky saying too many nice words and giving Sam too much time and giving Sam all these gentle, loving pets that made Sam’s already relaxed body unravel even more.

Sam supposed if someone was going to make sex the most intense thing in Sam’s life, it was going to be Bucky.

Sam was pretty sure that, at some point, Bucky had asked a question. Sam, sounding blissed out already, might have said, “Go for it, cowboy,” for some reason.

Go for it, cowboy???

Why had Sam said it like that?

Sam didn’t really have time to question his poor word choices as Bucky fucking smirked and began to ram himself into Sam.

Breakneck pace.

Just.

Ravage Sam’s too relaxed body.

Impale Sam over and over again, and well, Sam always liked a good ride, why not be on this rollercoaster of emotions and intense prostate precision? Sam wasn’t really holding onto anything. He wasn’t sure if he really could hold onto anything.

No one could say Sam was a quitter, though, because, fuck it, Sam was going to try to hold onto something. Well. It ended up becoming Sam weakly petting Bucky’s forearms. Bucky’s hair. Which seemed to just fuel more of Bucky praising Sam. It was a dizzying positive feedback loop of affection that Sam wasn’t sure how to accept.

Sam wasn’t sure when he started coming, if he was quite honest. He’d been swimming in that feeling of almost at the tipping point for what seemed like hours before Bucky started fucking him hard. All feeling and moaning and the slap of their skin.

Just.

Thrusting Sam’s already mush brain into oblivion.

And to be fair, Bucky must have been already very close to the edge too, because Sam felt it. He felt Bucky shoving Sam one last time fully onto him. He felt Bucky moaning Sam’s praises in way too many languages onto his skin. He felt Bucky throbbing and pulsing inside him.

Bucky collapsed onto him, a boneless puddle as well. Still whispering praise and kissing whatever skin his lips could reach.

And okay, so maybe Sam was crying a bit. Sue Sam. It was a pretty fucking intense experience. Sam felt tender all over. His heart, his body; especially his ass.

And he really liked the guy.

And Bucky obviously liked him too.

Sam wrapped his legs around Bucky’s legs, his heels rubbing down the back of Bucky’s calves. His arms on Bucky’s back, hands rubbing from nape to spine. Murmuring nonsense at Bucky, murmuring things Sam wasn’t sure he could or would ever say to another person as Sam soaked in the experience of it all.

“Gotta fuck in beds more often,” moaned Bucky into Sam’s shoulder.

Sam snorted. Kissed Bucky’s shoulder.

“Definitely doing this more often, boyfriend,” said Sam as Bucky seemed to catch a second wind and began to kiss Sam senseless.