Chapter Text
“No.”
“Buck, come on!”
“Absolutely not.”
“Seriously, you really don’t want to try it? How are you not–”
“We are not riding in a fucking gondola, Steve.”
“Bucky...”
“No, fuck off.”
“You’re such a jerk. Where’s your sense of adventure, huh?”
“Up your ass, that’s where.”
Despite his protestations about riding in the gondola, James knew he and Steve needed a break.
James usually didn’t like taking breaks. He didn’t do well without a goal he could hyper-focus on in lieu of wandering to his mind’s deepest and darkest corners. His expediency had done wonders for his mission, moving briskly across the continent, taking down HYDRA sites, and gathering whatever intelligence he could to help take more offline. Breaks were only a hindrance to his goal.
But he and Steve needed one, badly.
They had seemed relatively fine upon returning to Vienna from Natasha’s safe house in Bratislava. The bruises and cuts were healed and looked no worse for the wear. Upon closer inspection, they were, in fact, not fine. Steve was on a constant hair trigger, more so than usual, jumpy and bashful in a way that was more worrying than charming as it usually was, sometimes even off-putting. He spent more time running, using the Viennese streets as his racetrack, burning off the rapidly accumulating excess energy in his body. His showers were just as long, and he would often emerge with his skin pinker than it should’ve been, either from the heat or how he scrubbed until it was almost raw, or both. James didn’t call it out, but Steve saw the concern in his eyes on multiple occasions. He insisted that he had simply gone too far by accident but was alright. When Steve would reach his hand forward to touch James’s arm, shoulder, or back, it lingered longer than usual, as if he were trying to absorb something from James.
James wasn’t much better. He still felt, two weeks later, like he was teetering on the edge of sanity. He couldn’t say for sure that the Winter Soldier was a legitimate identity rather than a figment of his bruised imagination, but he couldn’t say the opposite, either. Sometimes, mostly at night, he found his thoughts drifting through a mechanical framework, calculating and assessing the feasibility of the next day’s activities like a computer program. James hadn’t blacked out as far as he could tell, and Steve hadn’t called out any strange behavior. James wasn’t even sure if Steve knew about his mental split in Kaliningrad.
Instead of raising the question or even thinking about the possibility of having split personalities, James focused on deciphering the Kaliningrad files. He attempted it covertly while Steve went on his morning and evening runs and helped out Natasha on video calls with whatever sub-Avengers-level threat that came their way. However, Steve quickly discovered James’s work and insisted on helping, even though he seemed slightly but noticeably hesitant. Their work on Kaliningrad lasted three days before James called time, a mere minute away from smashing his laptop against the living room wall.
That unnatural bid of self-restraint on James’s part led to him booking a flight for him and Steve to Italy, where they were presently standing at a pier on the Grand Canal, fighting about whether or not to ride a goddamn gondola.
“Why don’t you wanna?” Steve asked with petulance blanketing his face.
“Because it’s stupid,” James said, his own eyes just as petulant. “What’s it gonna look like, two supersoldiers riding on a boat through Venice?”
“No one knows who we are here,” Steve said. “And it’s not a boat; it’s a gondola.”
“Oh?” James huffed. “Is that why you spent fifteen minutes shaking hands up and down the canal this morning?”
In truth, it was only ten minutes. That morning wasn’t the first time James had seen Steve in Avengers public relations mode. He had crept around enough building corners when he first started surveilling Steve before Budapest to see him interact with the public. It looked like hell on Earth to James, but Steve was a natural. He spent more time than necessary with people, especially with the overzealous children with their toy shields and Captain America posters. Venice hadn’t been any different at first. James took several steps back as a group of kids accosted Steve while returning from breakfast at a restaurant. It wasn’t long before the adults followed, curious about who the kids were losing their sugar-addled minds over.
Things took a turn when a small crowd surrounded Steve. What had started as handshakes and pictures devolved into hands grabbing for and at Steve. Steve tried keeping his composure, but he locked eyes with James, silently conveying that he was overwhelmed and needed help. A moment later, James felt the Soldier emerge, pushing him aside now that he had a clear objective. The Soldier quickly maneuvered through the crowd, elbowing five men in the stomach who had gotten too close to Steve. James worried that Steve would notice the Soldier had taken over when he got to him. However, the Soldier moved fast enough for Steve not to notice. He wrapped his metal arm around Steve’s waist and basically carried him out of the crowd and down a quiet alley. The Soldier receded while Steve got his bearings back, and James took over. When they were both back in sorts, Steve smiled and waved away James’s worried eyes, insisting he was fine.
“Ok…” Steve said. “So some people know who I am. But they don’t know you. They probably think you're my bodyguard.”
“My point still stands,” James said.
“Your point is stupid,” Steve shot back, folding his arms over his chest, adopting one of his Captain America poses, even though he knew it was useless on James.
“You’re stupid.”
“Can you not be a stick in the mud for once and get in the goddamn gondola with me?” Steve asked in exasperation.
“You’re Captain America,” James said. “‘Stick in the mud’ is in the fucking job description.”
“Bucky…” Steve had the audacity to pout.
James sighed loudly. “How long do you plan on pouting?”
“It depends,” Steve said, his eye twinkling. “How much is it working?”
“Marginally,” James admitted.
“I can work with that,” Steve said. “In fact, I can do—”
“Finish that sentence, and I'll shove you into the canal,” James sneered.
“And then you’ll pull me out,” Steve said, his grin widening. “You know, like the last time?”
“Shut the fuck up, Rogers.”
Steve didn’t have to pout all day. Mere minutes later, James scowled as he handed the oarsman 30 euros for the gondola ride. Steve didn’t bother hiding his child-like excitement as he climbed into the boat, which made James’s embarkation less frustrating. He sat next to Steve, and as the oarsman pushed off the pier, he felt Steve’s frame practically vibrate.
“Easy,” James said, squeezing Steve’s thigh. “You look like you’re about to jump out of your skin.”
“Shut up,” Steve said, blushing. “I know it’s probably silly, but…never mind.”
“No,” James said. “What were you gonna say?”
“It’s…I mean, who could’ve imagined it, you know?” Steve smiled. “Even during the war, it wasn’t like we had many chances to do stuff like this.”
“The world being on the brink of collapse probably delayed things, huh?” James elbowed Steve.
“Something like that,” Steve said, elbowing James back. “Even now…there aren’t many opportunities to explore. When I travel, it’s to save people, not sit in a tour group and take pictures and stuff.”
“I told you should’ve gone to those churches in Bosnia instead of chasing after me,” James said. “Missed your shot.”
"Shut up , Bucky,” Steve groaned softly. “I’m saying…it’s cool to take a moment and do stuff like this. Even if it looks and sounds lame.”
Bucky scoffed, rolled his eyes, and squeezed Steve’s thigh again. “It’s not lame. You’re lame. There’s a difference.”
“Jerk.”
“Punk.”
As the gondola ride continued, James was taken by how much Steve enjoyed the Grand Canal. He could see Steve’s wheels turning, his eyes catching colors and shapes. He was happy he had the foresight to needle Steve into buying a notebook and watercolors from a merchant near their lunch spot. (“You never know what you might see, idiot,” he had said.) Without even prodding him, Steve whipped out his notebook and pen from his knapsack and started sketching out the bridges in the distance. When their boat drifted too far from the bridges, James discreetly slipped the oarsman another few euros to circle back so Steve could finish his outlines. Steve was so preoccupied that he hadn’t noticed, and James preferred it that way. Getting to draw uninterrupted was the very least Steve deserved.
When Steve got the outlines and some detailing across two pages, James waved at the oarsman to continue the journey. Looking satisfied with his drawings, Steve slipped his notebook and pens back into his knapsack and settled in to take in the buildings and bridges that framed the canals. Steve snapped some photos with his phone and smiled when he saw James’s look of amusement.
“Sue me,” Steve said. “It’s cool.”
“You salivating over the Italian peninsula,” James said. “Aren’t you cheating on the Statue of Liberty or something?”
“Maybe I’m just playing the field,” Steve’s smile suddenly faded, leaving his face surprisingly solemn. “Hey, Buck?”
“Yeah?”
“This is gonna sound weird, given where we are.” Steve looked down at James’s lips and then back into his eyes.
“Weird is kinda our deal, isn’t it?” James said, patting Steve’s thigh.
“True…but, I wanted to ask…do you still…”
“Still what, Steve?” James asked.
“It’s nothing,” Steve said, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it; it’s stupid.”
“Steve…” James knew something was on Steve’s mind, something Steve was trying to shield from him. “What is it? Tell me.”
“I was wondering…” Steve reached for James’s thigh and squeezed in that same discomfiting way as if he were trying to drain him of something. “You know, we really don’t have to–”
“Steven Grant Rogers.” James rarely used Steve’s full government name, but the hedging called for more drastic measures. “Get out with you already.”
“Do you still want me?” Steve asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
James’s eyes widened in shock at the question. A moment barely passed before Steve added hastily, “We don’t have to talk about it now…we can wait ‘til we get back to the hotel.”
The wait was excruciating for James. Steve seemed like he was actively delaying the conversation. He would stop at cafes and shops and several footbridges, asking questions of the locals, taking pictures of himself and with people who recognized him, and buying little trinkets. While Steve transformed into the world’s most hyperactive tourist, James stewed on the sidelines, left off-kilter from Steve’s question. He was disturbed by the notion that, after everything they’d been through together, Steve thought James didn’t want him anymore. After months of learning each other’s rhythms and moving in sync, it suddenly felt like they were operating on two different frequencies. As frustrated and anxious as he was to get to the bottom of Steve's feelings, James didn’t push. He let Steve lead, following behind him and “guarding his six,” which felt strangely familiar despite having no clue where he pulled it from. He did, however, wish that some random man would bump into Steve and shout at him so James had an excuse to shove him to the ground in retaliation.
The retaliation never came. Instead, James and Steve arrived back at their hotel after Steve was satisfied with bouncing around the city so they could shower and change for the evening. James had expected Steve to follow him to his room, but Steve stopped at his own room next door, fishing for his key in his pocket.
“I’ll be quick in the shower, and then we can meet–”
“No,” James interrupted, opening his room door. “Get inside, Steve.”
“Bucky–”
“Come on.”
They went into James’s room together. James plopped down on his bed and pointed at the spare one, directing Steve to sit. Wearily, Steve sat in front of James.
“We need to talk,” James said.
“We don’t have to–”
“Yes, we do,” James interrupted. “Tell me what’s bugging you.”
“Nothing‘s bugging me, Buck,” Steve said.
“So what?” James said, frustration quickly ratcheting up in his chest. “You were asking if I still wanted you for shits and giggles?”
“Buck…” Steve looked uncomfortable, but James was well beyond caring.
“What the hell would make you think I don’t want you anymore?” James asked, harsher than he meant but well-aligned with his irritation over waiting so long. “Do you think I’m running around fucking Italy behind you for my health?”
“Buck, come on…” Steve said.
“No, you come on.” James couldn’t stop the tenor of his voice from fraying. “What the fuck, Steve?”
“I wasn’t trying to upset you.” Steve’s shoulders sagged forward. “I was just…because we haven’t…you haven’t touched me.”
James’s frustration dissipated. It was true: he and Steve hadn’t had sex since Kaliningrad. They hadn’t even tried. It wasn’t for lack of opportunity: Steve was, after all, in the next room to James in the apartment in Vienna, and there were countless times when Steve would be in various states of undress after a run or before heading to bed. Neither had made any sort of move towards something less platonic. James could’ve easily ascribed any number of reasons to the sexual disconnect between them, anything but what Andrei had done to them. With Steve looking at him like that, though, James knew he wouldn’t get away with that.
“Look,” Steve said. “I understand…what happened in Kaliningrad…it was a lot. It was awful. I can understand if it’s changed things for us. I can live with that. I just want to know for sure.”
James opened his mouth to speak, but Steve interjected. “We don’t have to…be together like that if you don’t want to anymore. As long as I don’t lose you, that matters to me more than everything. But…”
“But what?” James asked.
“I miss you,” Steve said.
“Steve…” James took a deep breath, steadying himself before continuing so he wouldn’t accidentally say the wrong thing. “I miss you too.”
Steve’s eyes brightened up. “Yeah?”
“I’m not as dramatic about it as you are about it,” James said, hoping a good-natured dig would help break the ice, even though it didn’t come naturally to him. “But yeah, I do.”
“So…can we… not miss each other?” Steve asked, his mouth daring to crack into a smile.
“You make it sound easy,” James said.
“Isn’t it?”
“It’s not.”
“Why not?” Steve asked. “If we both miss each other and want each other…”
“Touching you is pretty tough when you’re about ready to jump out of your skin at a moment’s notice,” James said. “And before you ask, yes, I’ve noticed.”
“I…” Steve said. “I mean, I’ve kinda always been like that, you know. It’s the serum; it’s nothing new, not really.”
“Level with me here, Steve,” James pushed back. “You know it’s not the same.”
Steve let a few moments of silence pass before he sighed in surrender. “Okay…it’s hard...sometimes. I know in my head that he’s dead and gone, logically. But there are times when I can still feel him watching me, wanting me…”
“Touching you,” James added.
Steve quickly nodded. “It makes me sick thinking about it, so I try not to. But I guess my body can forget to do that. I swear, it’s like my body is barely even my own.”
“I know the feeling,” James said with a soft scoff.
Steve suddenly looked ashamed. “Bucky, fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking, saying that. It was–”
“Steve, stop.” James grabbed his knee. “You’re overthinking…again. I’m saying I understand it. If anyone on Earth knows what that’s like, it’s me.”
“But you had it–”
“How many times do I have to tell you it’s not a competition?” James said with another squeeze of Steve’s knee.
“You probably have to remind me a few times,” Steve said. “I’m hard-headed.”
“That you are,” James agreed. “Look, it’s a lot, okay? What happened, what Andrei did…there’s no rulebook or timetable for handling it. You just do it and ask for help if you need it.”
“That sounds like pretty good advice, Bucky,” Steve said.
“Eh, I feel like it should be better,” James said. “You’d think I’d be an expert on deep emotional trauma by now, huh?”
Steve shook his head. “Buck…come on.”
“It’s the truth.” James shrugged. “I’m pretty sure one of your friends…the doctor one, the one he becomes the not-so-jolly green giant…”
“Bruce?”
“Yeah, him,” James said. “He’d probably tell you to talk to a shrink or something.”
“I actually have another friend–”
“You cannot be serious,” James groaned. “Another friend?”
“You actually met him,” Steve said. “Technically. Sam Wilson. The guy with the wings?”
“Oh,” James said, briefly recalling their fight in D.C. “Pretty sure I tried to kill him, right?”
“Technically,” Steve said. “But it wasn’t your fault.”
“Whatever, Steve.”
“Anyway, he counsels people at the VA in D.C. He’s good, patient, funny. He kind of reminds me of you, in a way. I think you’d like him.”
James’s eyes narrowed. “Is that a fact?”
“Jesus Christ…Buck, you can’t be serious. You are not getting jealous of Sam.”
“You’re the one who brought him up,” James said. “I’d’ve been fine never thinking about him again.”
“Sam doesn’t want to sleep with me,” Steve said. “He’s straight.”
“Every man is straight until Captain America’s dick is in front of them,” James countered, sparking a fresh blush on Steve’s face. “Then all bets are off.”
“I’m pretty sure he and Nat–”
“I’ll make it clearer for you since you seem to be struggling to get it,” James interrupted. “Everyone wants to fuck you, Steve. All they need is the opportunity. And even if Sam does have a thing with the Widow, that’s just killing two birds with one bed.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Steve said, shaking his head. “As I was saying, Sam is really good at counseling people. He offered to help me—”
“So he could fuck you probably,” James muttered under his breath.
“I heard that, Buck,” Steve said. “But I passed. I don’t think therapy would work for me.”
“It’s worth a shot. You’re too important not to have your head on straight.”
“And you? Would you ever...?”
“No,” James answered. “A shrink couldn’t help me. I’m too messed up. They’re better off burying my brain in a toxic waste dump.”
“That’s not funny, Bucky,” Steve said, frowning.
“I’m not entirely joking,” James said, tapping on the side of his forehead. “There are things going on up here that…I would definitely be put away somewhere.”
“I wouldn’t let that happen,” Steve said.
“As if you’d have a choice,” James huffed.
“I wouldn’t let that happen,” Steve repeated, his eyes boring into James’s.
James once again felt off-balance, a new weight at the base of his spine holding him down on the bed, rendering him virtually immovable. “Okay. And what about you?”
“What about me?”
“How do we fix the ridiculous notion that I don’t want you anymore?” James asked, meaning it to be teasing but coming out sad from his lips.
“You don’t need to fix anything, Buck, honest,” Steve insisted. “It’s something I have to get over in my head. It’s no one’s fault.”
“Not entirely,” James said, his face shifting into neutral lines.
“What do you mean?”
“The stuff we’ve done…” James started. “You being ‘good’ for me…”
“What about it?” Steve asked.
“I fucked it up,” James said. “I should’ve never brought that into what we were doing.
Steve shook his head. “What are you talking about? I liked it. It was good–”
“I perverted it,” James said over Steve. “Andrei…when he would…when he fucked me, he would say that…say that I was being ‘good’ for him.”
“Buck…” Steve’s expression cracked as he exhaled the word.
“I didn’t know,” James said miserably, his words smushed together. “I swear I didn’t know they were Andrei’s words until…”
“Kaliningrad.” Steve finished James’s sentence.
“I should’ve known,” James said. “I knew there were things I had locked away, things I had to. I should’ve known better. And I brought it into what we did together. It’s disgusting.”
“It’s not disgusting,” Steve said. “It has nothing to do with who we are, what we are.”
“It is,” James said. “You don’t deserve that.”
“But I do deserve you,” Steve said.
James thought he had gotten used to Steve’s emphatic declarations and defenses, but Steve still managed to blow him away. Even if James didn’t believe it himself, Steve said it like it was a common, natural fact set in stone. James wondered if Steve liked knocking him off his axis with his stunning, compelling sincerity. James probably would’ve resented it if it hadn’t sent a burst of warmth flooding his insides.
“We don’t need to do it like that if it makes you feel weird or wrong,” Steve continued. “I’ll take whatever you can and want to give me. I’ll make it enough. I just want to touch you. I want you to touch me. That’s all.”
They sat there in silence for several minutes, Steve waiting patiently while James turned his words over in his head. As much as James wanted Steve, and vice versa, he had no desire to push either of them into something they weren’t ready for. Steve didn’t look like he was overcompensating and would later regret whatever they would end up doing, but James knew Steve wasn’t the greatest gauge of his own limits. If they were going to do anything, it would have to be slow enough to avoid disaster. James could work with slow, just as he could with Steve’s shrinking but still substantial timidity with sex. James knew he could treat them both right, and his confidence helped lessen the heaviness in his spine.
“You know what I want, Stevie?” James finally asked, his invocation of the nickname making Steve sit up straighter.
“Um…no?”
“I want you to touch yourself for me.”
“You…wait….what?” Steve stammered.
“Touch yourself for me, Stevie.”
“Why?” Steve asked.
“Because I want you to,” James said, borrowing Steve’s simple cadence. “And you want to do what I want, right?”
“I…oh…”
“Okay, listen to me,” James said, slightly amused at Steve’s flustering. “I don’t want what we had before.”
“I…” Steve’s eyes glazed over in a mix of fear, confusion, and heartbreak. “I don’t…Bucky.”
“I want something better,” James explained. “I don’t want what Andrei did to us, past or present, to affect how and why I want you. I just want you. Do you understand?”
“I think so,” Steve said haltingly.
“So, I want you to touch yourself for me,” James continued, shifting back on the bed. “I want to rediscover you, and I want you to rediscover how much I want you and that I would rather die than ever hurt you.”
“I…” Steve started visibly relaxing, his eyes softly twinkling at the corners. “I can do that.”
“Good,” James said. “Stand up and strip for me.”
Steve rose from the bed and grabbed the neck of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head and dropping it to the floor. James made a show of staring at Steve’s bare torso, leaning back and letting his eyes slavishly wander over the smooth skin and sleek muscles in front of him. It was intentional. He wasn’t lying when he said he wanted them to rediscover each other. James didn’t want Steve ever to doubt how much he wanted him, and he was eager to spend hours worshipping at the altar of Steve’s broad pecs, tight abs, and tiny waist to prove the point. He could see that his perusal was having the desired effect, with Steve looking appropriately bashful at James’s increasingly hungry attention.
“You look so fucking good, Stevie,” James said. “Nice and tight everywhere.” He wondered if Steve would take the bait and dismiss his own attractiveness, forcing James to step in and get him back in order.
Unfortunately for James, Steve didn’t. “Thanks, Buck,” he said before biting his lower lip, which made the back of James’s neck itch. “Probably should get the rest off, huh?”
“If you wouldn’t mind,” James said, his eyes and voice darkening from Steve’s teasing.
James was happy to see that Steve’s fingers were jittery as he unbuttoned and unzipped his dark blue jeans, meaning James hadn’t completely lost control of the situation. Steve was about to push his jeans down, offering a tempting flash of his hip bone, when James called out.
“Wait.”
Steve looked up like a deer caught in the headlights.
“Turn around,” James ordered. “Face away from me, then push them down.”
“Oh.” Steve’s look of surprise quickly melted into something more playful. “You got it, Bucky.”
Steve turned around and slowly pushed his jeans and underwear to the floor. As he bent over to remove his sneakers, socks, and jeans bunched at his feet, James glimpsed Steve’s balls and taint, stretched taut from the back. His view was even better when Steve stood up straight. He hummed appreciatively, taking in Steve’s broad shoulders and back, how they sloped into his slender hips, and his beautifully round, thick ass. James had to tighten his muscles to retain his composure. He was incredibly close to reaching out and palming one of Steve’s heavy cheeks, slipping him a finger to rub at his hidden, tight hole.
“Fuck, Steve,” James said, curling his metal fingers into a fist and pressing it into his thigh. “Do you know how fucking hot you are?”
“You tend to remind me a lot,” Steve said, looking over his shoulder. “Can I turn around now?”
“That depends,” James answered. “Are you hard?”
“What do you think?”
“With how needy you get?” James banked away Steve’s snark to deal with later. “Most definitely. Turn around and let me see.”
Steve wasn’t fully erect when he turned around to face James, but he was well on his way. His dick hung long and thick between his thighs, and James swore he saw a subtle throb run through the shaft. Steve absentmindedly scratched at his bare hip, which made his dick jump again. James eyed him suspiciously, becoming convinced that Steve was doing it on purpose. The self-satisfied look on Steve’s face didn’t disprove it.
“Good?” Steve asked, holding his arms out diagonally, turning a few degrees left and right.
“Good,” James said, giving Steve another deliberate once-over, starting at his sandy hair and stopping at his dick. “Could be better, though.”
“Oh?” Steve frowned. “And how could I be better?”
James smirked. “You could touch yourself like I asked a while ago.”
“Right.” Steve reached behind himself to start slowly rubbing the back of his neck. “You got it, Buck.”
“What the fuck are you doing, Rogers?” James asked as Steve massaged his neck and left shoulder, making his pec bounce.
“I’m touching myself, just like you asked,” Steve said, reaching lower to the center of his back, making his stretched pec bounce again, absolutely on purpose. With a wicked quirk of his eyebrow, he added, “You never said where.”
“You’re choosing now to be a punk?” James asked incredulously, licking his lips as Steve dropped his arm and circled it behind him, touching his lower back and tightening his abs.
“Your punk,” Steve said. “You said it yourself. We need to get to know each other again. So…I want you to know that I like to improvise.”
“Hmmm.” James shook his head in bemusement. “I guess I should’ve been more specific since you suck at taking orders.”
“Not the right orders,” Steve corrected, his grin growing.
“Alright…touch your chest,” James commanded gruffly. “Only your chest. I want your tits nice and achy, your nipples hard.”
Steve nodded, slightly startled by James’s heavier tone. He raised his right hand to his chest and covered his left pec, gently squeezing it. Steve gasped softly and squeezed the muscle again, his eyes fluttering closed and his chest expanding with a slow, deep inhale.
“Feels good, Stevie?” James asked.
“Yeah, Buck…” Steve moaned. He squeezed his chest again, the firmer hold leaving pale spots on his skin from his fingers’ pressure. He pressed his middle finger into his nipple, circling over the small nub, letting out an airy gasp. “Feels so fucking good.”
“Looks like it,” James said, glancing down at Steve’s dick to see it fully erect and slightly wet at the slit. “You know how sensitive you get with your nipples, Stevie. Play with them some more. I want you dripping.”
“Fuck.” Steve pinched his hardening nipple with his thumb and forefinger, his throat rumbling with a swallowed-down moan. He worked his other fingers around his pec, rubbing and pushing into the thick muscle, giving his tanned skin a warmer hue. He opened his eyes and lasered in on James. “This what you wanted, Buck?”
“Close, James said flippantly. “Except it looks like you’re neglecting your other tit. You should do something about that.”
“They’re not–”
“You know better than to finish that sentence, Stevie,” James said, crossing his arms defensively. “You’ve got work to do.”
Steve slid his hand over to the right side of his chest and clutched his pec hard. He gasped sharply, clearly not expecting the intensity of his own touch. Steve looked down at his chest as he squeezed it harder, letting out another roughened sound from his mouth. James saw a subtle shift in Steve’s face, his eyes clouding over and his cheeks heating up with a touch of frenzy. Steve lifted his hand to tweak his left nipple, growling as he leveled off the sensation. Closing his eyes, Steve worked his chest over harder, groping and pinching, breathing heavily as his skin broke out in goosebumps. It resembled how Steve had been since Kaliningrad, overloading with sensation until he wore himself out. That was the last thing James wanted for him.
“Slow down, Steve,” James said firmly.
Panting, Steve opened his eyes and revealed how charged they had become. “What’s wrong, Buck?”
“Take a beat,” James said. “ I don’t want you burning out before the fun begins.”
Steve dropped his hands to cross in front of him, adopting his defensive Captain America pose even as his face fell slightly. “What are you talking about? You know I can handle myself. This is nothing.”
“Is it?” James asked. “Come here and lemme get a good luck at ya, bud.”
Steve initially hesitated but stepped forward into the empty space James made by spreading his thighs. James moved his hands onto Steve’s hips, gently rubbing the muscles there with his thumbs. The tension he felt across Steve’s trim waist was reflected in his eyes. He looked like he had done something wrong and was preparing a defense against James’s admonition.
“Good boy,” James said, digging his thumbs into the divots of Steve’s hipbones, where he knew Steve was particularly sensitive. “You’re okay.”
“Bucky…” Steve squirmed under James’s hold, but James pulled him closer until his lips were an inch from Steve’s stomach. “I don’t need—”
“I think you do,” James said as his lips skimmed over Steve’s abs. “You need me to take you out of your head, treat you sweet like you know I like.”
“I don’t…” Steve’s words melted when James sucked along the stretch of his muscles. “I’m…Buck…”
“Don’t you want me to be sweet to you, Stevie?” James exhaled over Steve’s stomach, the muscles trembling under the heat.
James dipped his tongue into the hollow of Steve’s hip, lapping at the tender skin. Feeling Steve squirm again, James slipped his hands back to grab Steve’s firm ass and hold him still.
“Yeah, that’s what you need,” James said, hearing Steve whimper. “You need me to treat my best guy right. Hush and don’t interrupt me, okay?”
“Buck…”
James could tell Steve was trying to calm himself down and dissolve the nervous energy wafting off him. Steve’s body shivered through his hips, and James strengthened his hold on Steve’s ass, massaging the muscled flesh and sliding his fingers along his tight crack.
“Go slower this time, Stevie…gently. Just for me, yeah?”
With a whimper, Steve reached for his chest again. He moved his right hand more carefully over his chest, lightly pushing into his left pec and then his nipple, a softer, satisfied sigh leaving his parted lips. James smiled against Steve’s hipbone, nipping it with his teeth before he kissed over Steve’s stomach to his other hip, licking and sucking on its hollow. Steve’s hand kept up its squeezes and strokes, his neck arching and chest stretching alongside his moans.
“There he is,” James said, sucking firmly on Steve’s hip. “So sweet for me, Stevie.”
James backed up to get a good look at Steve. A soft, easy calm settled over Steve's body, making his tight skin glow over his sculpted, relaxed muscles. Even then, there were still some good contrasts: his nipples were hard and deliciously pink, and his dick, thick and hard, stood out almost comically from his crotch.
“What’s so funny?” Steve asked suspiciously, opening an eye and looking down, alerting James to his own laughter.
“Your big dick seeking me out like a homing beacon,” James said, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Well, what are you gonna do about it?” Steve asked, opening his other eye.
“Nothing,” James said. “You're gonna lie down and stroke it for me.”
“Buck, come on…”
“Sorry, Stevie, the pouting only works once,“ James said, smirking. “Now lay down and make yourself come for me. If you do a good job, I'll treat you nice.”
“Jerk.”
With a loud groan, Steve smacked James’s hands away from his butt and sat on the bed. He laid down, letting his hands start to roam over his chest and stomach. Before Steve could even think to ask, James reached for his bedside table, opened the drawer, and pulled out a bottle of lube. He tossed the bottle on the bed. Steve looked down at the bottle and then back at James, his head tilting suspiciously.
“Should I even ask?”
“No,” James replied. “Now get to it.”
Rolling his eyes, Steve popped open the bottle and drizzled the liquid into his right palm. He reached down and grabbed his dick, giving it an experimental stroke from the root to the tip. Steve’s face split into a pleased grin, moaning softly, making James think it was purely for his benefit. Steve confirmed it by turning his head to the ceiling and stretching, making his pecs and abs sharpen, topping it off with another soft moan. When he settled again on the bed, he kept his head upright, but his knowing smile was unmistakable.
“You’re a dirty little punk, you know that?” James growled, leaning forward as Steve gave his dick another decadent stroke.
“What?” Steve asked, closing his eyes and sighing softly. “I’m just making myself comfortable.”
”Oh? Is that all?” James’s eye twitched when Steve’s left pec jumped with another stroke.
“Yup,” Steve said. “Fuck, it feels so good, Bucky.”
“What does?” James asked, leaning forward. “Talk to me, Stevie.”
“Your hand…shit…” Steve ended his next stroke with a tight squeeze of the head of his dick. “So good.”
“You son of a…” James muttered. He knew exactly what Steve meant: Steve imagined that James was touching him. “You shameless fucking…”
“Yeah, Buck,” Steve gasped as he pinched his nipple in time with a squeeze to the tip. “You feel so good…”
“Which hand, Stevie?” James asked, deciding to play along with his little game and throw him off-course. “Which one am I touching you with? Which one’s gonna make you come?”
“Fuck…you know which one, Bucky,” Steve answered on the back of another high gasp from him, tightening his grip on his shaft.
“I don’t.” James stood and sat next to Steve on the bed. “What do you want, huh, Stevie? Skin or metal? Want me to warm you up or cool you down?”
“Cool…” Steve answered softly. “Shit…it helps me…remember…it’s you.”
James’s throat locked up. He swallowed, trying to force down a cough while focusing hard on Steve’s face. He looked like he should’ve before he said what he did, his face etched in pleasure, flushed and sweaty, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips. It was like he hadn’t just knocked James back. Even the insinuation of Andrei’s existence made James angry, but he dampened it. Focusing on what Steve said instead of what he didn’t, James laid his metal hand on Steve’s thigh, hearing him exhale at his touch. He slid his hand up, dipping the middle finger into the divot of his hip. James couldn’t feel it, but he saw Steve tremble. He settled his palm on Steve’s stomach, stroking his fingers through the lower ridges of his abs.
“This all for me, huh?” James asked.
“Yeah, Buck,” Steve moaned, raising his hips against James’s metal hand. “Yours.”
“Good,” James said. “Keep stroking it for me, okay?”
Humming in agreement, Steve made small circles with his hips, pushing his dick through the tight grip of his fist. As Steve kept stroking himself, James moved his hand up Steve’s stomach to squeeze his right pec, flicking the nipple with his metal thumb. Steve mewled, arching into the cool pressure. James lowered his mouth to Steve’s chest, licking and sucking his nipple while he massaged the underlying muscle. He pulled back to see the wet, heated mess he made of Steve’s pec and looked up at Steve’s face to see him breathing heavily, his eyes blown open.
“Buck,” Steve panted, his left hand groping his other pec. “I need it…fuck…”
“What do you need, Stevie?” James already knew but wanted Steve to hear it. “You need to come?”
“Yeah…” Steve’s dick throbbed, a strand of precum dripping from the head. “I need it, Buck. I need to come…”
“You need my help?” James asked, bending down to lap at Steve’s nipple with the flat of his tongue, watching him melt again in pleasure. “What do you want me to do?”
“The metal,” Steve whined. “Put it…fuck, Bucky…”
“You want these fingers inside you, Stevie?” James asked, grabbing the lube bottle and popping it open. “That’s what you want?”
Steve’s eyes darkened, and James felt an excited buzz shoot up his spine at the welcome sight of a deeply, sexually frustrated Steve Rogers. Shrugging, James raised his metal hand from Steve’s chest and lubed two fingers. He shifted down the bed and traced his flesh hand up the back of Steve’s thigh. Even with the softening of his eyes, Steve still looked unamused and possibly ready to murder James if he didn’t make a move soon.
“Ok, ok, hold your horses, Cap,” James chuckled as he lifted Steve’s thigh onto his chest and pushed his two fingers past Steve’s perineum and between his ass cheeks.
“If you don’t…ah!” Steve gasped when James’s fingers rubbed his hole, making him accidentally squeeze his shaft hard.
“You were saying, Rogers?”
“You…mmm…don’t get to be smug,” Steve groaned, resuming his strokes and moving his hips against James’s fingers on his hole. “You’re still not inside me.”
“Yet,” James added. “I’m not inside you yet .”
Before Steve could prepare a smart response, James slowly pushed his middle finger into Steve. Steve’s eyes widened, his lips parting as James sunk his finger deep into Steve’s ass, up to the last knuckle. He impatiently shifted his hips, trying to direct James’s finger to the right spot inside him.
“You don’t even know what you’re looking for,” James groused, pulling his finger back and pushing inside Steve with slightly more force.
“I found yours, didn’t I?” Steve said through a fast and deep breath, burning a hole into James’s face with his eyes.
“You needed my direction,” James quipped, crooking his finger and bumping Steve’s prostate, shoving a shuddering moan out of Steve’s mouth. “Ah…there we go.”
“Why do I even like you?” Steve whined, his eyes rolling back as he bore his hips down into James’s finger, crying out at the stab of pleasure.
“Because,” James said, pressing softly against Steve’s prostate. “In a few minutes, you’re gonna come so hard that you’ll never need to ride a fucking gondola again.”
“Fuck me,” Steve moaned, tugging on his nipple and stroking his dick faster. “I don’t see what one has to do with…fuck…the other.”
“Easy.” James quickly pulled his finger out and pushed his second finger inside Steve. “You’ll realize that the orgasms I give you are worth so much more than a stupid boat ride, and you’ll never subject me to one again.”
James wasn’t sure if Steve was laughing or moaning, but he knew he could subsist on whatever those sounds were. Determined to hear them again, he pressed steadily into Steve’s prostate with his two fingers. Steve cried out again, and James saw how the stimulation rolled across his body. Steve’s balls were drawn tight, his weighty shaft throbbed in his grasp, and his torso tensed and released as he stretched, seeking relief. Best of all was Steve’s face, warm and dusky pink, overcome by the pleasure of his own hands and James’s fingers inching him closer to the edge. Even though he knew Steve was close, James wanted to see it as if it were the first time.
“I want you to come, Steve,” James said, dropping his voice an octave. “So fucking bad…just like this. You on your back, touching yourself, my fingers deep inside you, knowing it's almost enough. What’ll do it, huh, Stevie? What will make you come?”
“Keep talking, Buck,” Steve moaned.
“Yeah?” James leaned forward, his clothed body laying over Steve’s nude, over-warmed one. “You like me talking filth to you, Stevie? That’ll get you off?”
“Ah…yeah…”
“Yeah, it will,” James exhaled against Steve’s sternum. “You have no fucking clue how much I want you, do you? How I think about fucking you, sucking you, tasting you. It’s all I can think about. It drives me crazy.”
“Buck…”
“Want to taste your cum, Stevie,” James groaned, licking Steve’s right pec. “Suck you dry until your balls are empty. And even then, I want you to keep coming. Just feel your dick throb in my mouth, nothing coming out.”
James scraped Steve’s nipple and then lightly bit it with his teeth, making Steve gasp. “I’d suck your pretty tits for hours. Make ‘em fucking raw, make you come just licking and biting ‘em. Could you stand it, Stevie? Keep coming just from my mouth on your tits, never once touching your dick? Would I wear you out?”
Steve bucked his hips, his dick grazing James’s jeans. He whined and rolled his hips faster, his ass riding James’s fingers and thrusting his shaft into his fist. James saw Steve’s increasingly desperate movements, making a wolfish grin break out on his face.
“Look at you fucking yourself on my hand,” James groaned. “You and your perfect fucking ass. So tight and round, heavy as fuck. You know how many people were checking out your thick ass this morning in the market, Stevie? You and those fucking tight jeans.”
“You…like…them,” Steve gasped.
“Yeah, for me,” James said. “Not for everyone else to see how fucking fat it is, how your tiny fucking waist makes it look even fatter. Goddamn it…you know what I wanted to do to it, right there in front of all of fucking Venice?”
“Tell me,” Steve panted.
“Nasty,” James growled. “I wanted to shove my hand down your pants and squeeze it. Put a couple of fingers in you–”
“The metal ones,” Steve whined.
“Damn fucking right,” James moaned. “And after I stretched your hole out and showed it off to everyone, I would’ve dropped to the floor and eaten you out, made you come on those stupid melons you wanted to buy.”
“Buck!” Steve exclaimed, either from James’s heated words or his fingers pressing harder into his prostate.
“Your ass is a dream, Stevie,” James rasped, working his fingers faster in and out of Steve’s hole, his control over his words and his hand slipping. “I want to bury myself in it: my fingers, my whole goddamn hand. I want to split it on my thick fucking dick, feel your fat ass bounce on it, all that sweet flesh pushing back on me…feels so fucking good.”
“God…Buck…fuck…” Steve moaned.
“You’re so fucking hot and tight inside.” James pushed his fingers deep and spread them, stretching Steve's hole. “I can’t even fucking feel it, but I know you're squeezing me, trying to melt my fucking fingers.” He brought his thumb to Steve’s tight rim, stroking it but not slipping inside. “It makes me want to crawl inside you and never leave.”
James closely hovered his face above Steve’s, the heat of his naked body sinking through his clothes. “Thinking of all the ways I can have you…it’s the only thing keeping me from splitting into pieces. Wanting you keeps me sane, Stevie.”
“James…” It was Steve’s turn to be shocked and overwhelmed.
“Don't you ever again think I don’t want you, Stevie,” James said. “Ever.”
“Oh, f–” James pressed his lips hard against Steve’s, swallowing Steve’s curse and the following moan. He battered Steve’s prostate, forcing out more moans and grunts that he hungrily snatched from Steve’s mouth. Steve wrapped his left arm around James and pulled him closer, pushing up into his kiss. He tried to make James move faster, but James kept his lips’ languid pace, savoring the connection while his metal fingers played with Steve’s ass.
Steve suddenly broke away from the kiss, his eyes sparkling at James. “Buck, I’m close.”
“How?” James asked, pressing another quick kiss to Steve’s lips. “How you wanna come, Stevie?”
“Can I…in your…?”
“Yeah.” James didn’t even need Steve to finish the thought. “You can have whatever the fuck you want.”
James hopped down the bed and took the head of Steve’s dick in his mouth. Steve wailed and gripped his dick harder, making the tip throb and precum spill from the slit onto James’s tongue. James eagerly licked it up, rubbing the flat of his tongue along Steve’s underside to try and make more leak out. When that didn’t work, James sucked on the tip, keeping his head still, not taking any more of Steve’s dick into his mouth. He kept up his fingers’ pressure on Steve’s undoubtedly tender prostate, ending each thrust with a soft but unyielding knead of his spot. With Steve still stroking himself, it felt like they were back in sync, working together to make Steve explode, with even the room seared by their body heat and heavy pants.
“Buck, I’m coming!”
Steve’s orgasm thrashed through him, making him cry out and his body pulsate. James sucked hard on the head of Steve’s dick, swallowing his warm load down his throat, not missing a drop. He kept pumping his fingers, bumping into Steve's prostate to keep him moaning and spilling cum into James’s mouth. Steve kept coming for so long that James thought they might actually drain Steve dry. It took another minute, but Steve’s climax finally eased, leaving him spent and gasping on the bed. It didn’t surprise James one bit that Steve was still hard, his dick standing up straight and damp from his crotch. James wrapped his flesh hand around the shaft and stroked it himself, pushing out the last drops of Steve’s cum to slide down his dick and into James’s palm.
“Jesus, Buck,” Steve moaned. “Goddamn it.”
“You’ve been needing that for a while, huh?” James asked, dragging his fingers out of Steve’s ass and stroking his thumb over Steve’s swollen rim.
“You,” Steve sighed, his chest rising and falling slowly as he tried to catch his breath. “Needed you.”
James felt his lungs tighten. “Yeah, me too…”
“You didn’t even come,” Steve said.
“Don’t need to,” James said, smiling. You came enough for the both of us…so fucking needy for it.”
Steve lifted himself onto his elbows. “You know…”
“What?”
“That was great and all, incredible really, but…”
“But what?” James asked, looking puzzled.
“I still want to ride another gondola,” Steve said, cracking his own smile.
James grabbed the pillow next to Steve’s head and smacked him. “I’m never fucking you again. You’re gonna die from blue balls.”
“Weren’t you yapping about how everyone in the market wanted my ass?” Steve asked playfully. “Sounds like I wouldn’t be as hard up as you seem to think.”
“And what makes you think I’d let anyone else near your perfect ass?” James asked, grabbing Steve’s hips and flipping him onto his stomach like he weighed nothing.
“Who says you even have a say?” Steve asked back.
“I do,” James said, squeezing Steve’s thick cheeks. “This is all mine to do whatever I want with.”
“And what do you plan to do with it?” Steve asked, looking back at James, a blush already creeping across his face.
“Right now?” James shook his head. “Absolutely nothing. You’ve been through enough for now.”
Steve’s face dropped. “You…you’re not serious.”
“As a heart attack, Stevie,” James said, lying down next to him, running his metal hand up and down the deep curve of Steve’s back.
“I’m not an invalid after one round, Buck,” Steve said, frowning at James.
“I never said you were, punk,” James said. “But it's my job to take care of you when you’re either too fuck drunk or self-sacrificing to know better. Guess which one you are right now?”
“And this is why I prefer the gondolas,” Steve grumbled.
“Talk your shit, Rogers,” James said. “Still not doing anything else to you right now.”
They laid there in semi-comfortable silence, the only real sound from the light whirring of James’s metal arm. Running his hand over Steve’s back, James didn’t want to disrupt the quiet with what had been nipping at the base of his skull. However, he figured that now was as good a time as any, especially when they were both at their least guarded.
“Steve,” James said.
“Yeah, Buck?”
“Earlier…you said that the metal hand helped you remember…”
Steve looked down, away from James’s face. “Yeah…I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, you should’ve,” James countered. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just want to know…if you’re alright.”
“It wasn’t thinking about him,” Steve said, slightly flustered. “I wasn’t. I was with you, I swear.”
“Steve, I don’t need you to explain.”
“Just let me say this,” Steve said, looking back into James’s eyes. “He didn’t cross my mind…but knowing you were there, the arm… made me feel safe. Like, if he did cross my mind, you’d beat him back. I like knowing that, even though you don't need to, you would protect me, that's all.”
“I would,” James said, settling the metal hand at the top of Steve’s back, digging the fingers into the muscles bunched at his shoulders. “No one hurts you.”
“Not even you?” Steve meant it as a joke, but James felt a tickle in his throat.
“Not even me,” James said.
“It sounds like you’re warming up to doing the gondola ride again,” Steve said. “You know, since you don’t want to hurt me and all.”
“I don’t see what one has to do with the other,” James parroted Steve’s words back at him.
“Easy,” Steve said, reaching his arm out to splay it over James’s back. “You want me to be happy. Gondola rides make me happy. Boom, solved.”
“No, not solved,” James said, breathing deeply as Steve’s fingers crept under his shirt and stroked his waist. “You forgot that gondola rides are dumb.” He reached back with his metal arm and tugged the shirt off, an open invitation for Steve to keep touching him.
Steve accepted the invitation, gently whacking James on the small of his back. “Says the supersoldier who paid the oarsman to row back so I could finish my drawing.”
James sighed in irritation. “Of course, you knew, goddamn it.”
“I’m not as oblivious as you think, Buck.”
“You definitely are.”
“It was a sweet gesture,” Steve said, slipping his hand an inch into James’s pants and rubbing the tip of his tailbone, making James moan softly, unexpectedly. “Can’t wait to do it again tomorrow.”
“Can’t I just eat your ass or something?” James tried bargaining, his voice wavering from Steve’s hand moving further down his crack.
“I thought you were done with me for now,” Steve said.
“I can improvise, too,” James said, sidling closer to Steve and pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “Come on, Stevie, let me at that sweet ass of yours. You’ll come so fucking hard, over and over, until you’re crying from it.”
“Oh, I know you will,” Steve said, leaning over and kissing James. “And I can’t wait for you to make good on your word. After we eat and do the moonlight gondola ride.”
“Wait, what?” James was hoping he had misheard. “What the fuck is a moonlight gondola ride?”
Sighing and smiling, Steve pulled his hand out of James’s pants and grabbed one of the brochures off James’s bedside table, giving it to him. As James read the brochure, he happily explained, “They have sunset and moonlight gondola rides, riding up and down the Grand Canal. We’ll probably be at dinner for the sunset one, but we can do the moonlight one. You can see the stars and everything right there on the–”
“You already reserved our spot, didn’t you?” James interrupted Steve, getting on his knees and focusing on the paragraph that said reservations were required.
“Of course.”
“So…you booked a moonlight gondola ride tonight, and you wanna go on another one tomorrow?”
“Yup!”
“Get the fuck out of my room, Rogers,” James growled as he hopped off the bed and stalked to the bathroom to shower. “Son of a bitch.”
Before James could loudly slam the door behind him, Steve said, “Hey, Buck?”
James turned around, glowering at Steve. “What?”
“You’re still gonna…you know…tonight when we get back from the gondola ride, right?”
“You mean…eat your perfect fucking ass until you’re crying and coming all over the place?” James asked with a warm smile.
“Yeah, Buck,” Steve said, blushing with a hint of mischief.
James quickly dropped the smile, saying a quick, resounding “No” that he knew was a lie and shut the bathroom door.
“Jerk!”