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Chapter Text

It was just another day of Bucky coming home to Steve’s lone apartment going on about his date. The one detail he never failed to mention was her “beautiful blonde hair, and her body was so thin, very petite.” But, this was a common thing Steve had heard Bucky say a million times over. And the thing was, he always said it—without fail—AND without a second thought at the beautiful blonde with a skinny body standing in front of him. 

“She was beautiful, Stevie—I mean, her hair was blonde, and she had that body you know I like,” Bucky rambled. 

“Mhm, yeah,” Steve nodded along, twiddling his fingers as they stood moments away from each other by the entrance of Steve’s home. 

“I mean, really Stevie- ya’ should’ve seen this doll dancin’ with me on the floor. We were the life of the—,” Bucky got interrupted.

“Yeah, I get it. You danced the night away while I stayed at home barely able to get out of bed,” Steve groaned and rolled his eyes, exclaiming his misery to Bucky as though it was a proclamation to envy. 

“Steve, that’s not—,“ Bucky stammered. 

“No, you’re right. It’s not fair. I’m sorry I lashed out,” Steve rubbed his eyes and took a sharp inhale, “there’s just so much that I want to do in this life that seems out of my hands and it always will be,” Steve’s sighs fell short into his breath, and his eyes carried weighing down to the floor. 

“Buddy, there’s still time,” Bucky rested his hand on Steve’s shoulder, gazing down into his soft blue green eyes. They stared at each other a little longer than anticipated, but this was a common occurrence between these two. The longing, the tension. It was all there, undeniably, but words never came complimentary to the situation. 

“Tell me more about your night. Do you think you’ll pursue this ‘gal?” Steve broke the silence by trying to engage in conversation he believed Bucky was passionate about. 

“Ha, me? Pursue a dame? Steve, you know I can only manage flings,” his Brooklyn accent came seeping through. Bucky was notorious for going on dates with women, but he was also notorious for ending relationships with women. Everyone knew this, and Bucky wore it like a badge of honor. In reality, “validation” was a better word to describe his tendencies. 

They both sat on the couch as Steve itched to inquire about Bucky having a type. As said, Steve’s heard Bucky go on and on about these skinny blonde women anytime he talked about a date, and Steve always wanted to make a joke, or bring it up given the irony of it all. Though, because of the nature of the joke and the times they were in, Steve was so scared of how it’d be received by Bucky. 

“Your dame’s, will you ever go for a brunette one? Maybe even a red haired gal?” Steve sat up right as he glanced at Bucky. Bucky was amidst a sip of his coffee he stole from Steve’s kitchen and he couldn’t help but cough into it as he anticipated the implication of this question, and where it was going. His eyes swiftly gleamed over to Steve as he collected himself and forced a confused look on his face.

“How do you mean?” He attempted. 

“I mean, they’re always prettied up blonde dolls with smaller frames and milk white skin. Is that what catches your eye?” Steve pressed. 

“These gals just happen to like me. ‘M not always the one makin’ that first move, Stevie,” Bucky looked away, feeling repressed in his own truth. This honesty he battled, was one that would sink him and his reputation down. It was one that was dangerous for him, and for anyone he involved. From the moments he would think these things, he’d shove them way down before he could even conceptualize what they could mean. His truth was so deeply internalized that it represented itself as homophobia. He wasn’t an outward homophobe, but given the times, the general notion that gays were scum was something Bucky had openly adhered to in moments where he and Steve had observed such a thing. 

Steve, on the other hand, had openly expressed that he feels bad for gays. But that’s as far as he could go before Bucky snapped at him saying he “doesn’t want to talk about this”. Steve was always afraid to tread into this territory from then on, but always had deep inquiries about Bucky and his intentions with the Steve-like-women he was always pining after. Which brings him back to…

“It just always sounds like you’re talkin’ about me until you say ‘her’ or some other pronoun that makes me remember what you’re on about,” Steve held his breath and looked down at his feet, sitting criss cross on his couch with an awkward breath of space between he and Buck. 

It was quiet and time stood still. 

“Is that what you think?” Bucky said sternly but quietly, cutting through the silence like a knife. His gaze met Steve’s lowered eyes. He sounded offended. 

“It- It’s just something I’ve accidentally thought about, Buck,” Steve struggled to find words that could sway him away from the image of himself he just created—but he already crossed the line. 

“Tell me, Steve. Do ya’ like that or somethin’? Do ya’ think about me dancin’ with yous? About me grabbin’ your waist? Do ya’ think like a fuckin’ queer?” Bucky tensed up, standing and looking down at Steve. He felt sick yelling at his best friend like this, but he felt sicker knowing what Steve had just said. 

Steve had a sudden wave of confidence wash over him, in the intensity of this situation. He couldn’t believe Bucky’s audacity to yell at him like this, after all they’ve been through. He knew in his heart this question wasn’t coming from nothing—it’s been a thing since Bucky started seeing women, and that was back when they’d still call them girls ‘cause they were all still kids. Steve would remember those looks Bucky would give him, how he’d hear his heart skip a beat if the two accidentally touched one another—he wasn’t making this up. It’s always been a thing. 

“YOU—have no right to talk to me like that!” Steve jumped up and met Bucky’s eyes, staring up at him with a breath of space between them. Bucky looked down angrily and held his furrowed brows and piercing glare. 

“You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” Bucky said sternly and quietly, all in one breath. 

“YES I DO,” Steve took another sharp breath before challenging his lungs with a fit of rage, “YOU PICTURE ME when you dance with them ! YOU PICTURE ME when you TOUCH THEM- when you KISS THEM- when you FU -,” Steve almost yelled a word Bucky hadn’t ever come to hear from him—and seeing Steve use all of his energy and then some just to prove a point sent shivers down his spine.

Bucky couldn’t bear to hear innocent Steve say such obscenities to his face. He threw his palm over Steve’s mouth before he finished that sentence and said ‘fuck’. Along with this gesture, he put his other hand onto Steve’s bony shoulder and began pushing him backwards until they slammed into the wall. 

The two boys just stared at each other, panting in the silence and the aggressive tone of the space between them. Bucky moved his hand off of Steve’s mouth and placed it on his other shoulder, ultimately pinning Steve against the wall. 

“Buck—you’re hurting me- you’re pushing too hard,” Steve panted in distress, pleading towards Bucky with his big blue green eyes. But, Bucky didn’t budge. He just stayed there, staring down at Steve…thinking. 

“Buck, please—let go of me…,” Steve continued. He felt Bucky release his right hand from his shoulder. Thank god, he’s finally coming to his senses—right? 

Instead of backing up from him like Steve thought he intended to do, he began to feel a tight grip on his waist—one that would leave marks. Steve looked down to see Bucky’s hand grabbing his thin waist, and he panicked, looking back up at Bucky, whose eyes were glued to Steve’s waist and how it looked with his hand squeezing it. 

“Is this what you want?” Bucky whispered low and angry, as if his teeth were gridlocked. 

“W- wait Buck- Bucky..?! Why are you touching me like that,” Steve asked hurriedly—disregarding Bucky’s question. 

“Stop talking, doll,” Bucky muttered as his hand cupped Steve’s soft dick through his pants. Steve gasped. Bucky’s hand quickly moved up to Steve’s belt and unbuckled it. He ripped it out from the belt loops and Steve’s pants dropped to his feet. He wasn’t wearing any boxers—looks like he forgot to do his laundry. 

“Buc—Bucky, wait—,” Steve felt exposed, violated. He wasn’t prepared for this. Bucky eyed his body, scanning him up and down. His eyes grew bigger and they brightened at the sight. He looked like a dog, a hungry dog. His eyes met Steve’s for a moment, Steve pleading with a nervous look on his face. Bucky didn’t care…he turned Steve around. 

“Bucky- we should talk about this!” Steve whimpered in a defeated sigh against the wall, head turned to his side. He heard Bucky’s belt coming undone, the distinct clatter of the metal rings as they hit the wooden floorboards. 

He couldn’t believe it. All this time, he was right, but Bucky’s truth was so deeply rooted within him that the only way he could communicate it was through aggression…angst…through pinning his best friend against a wall and touching him—right? He’s just touching him? He’s gonna stop, though…right? He’s just trying to teach Steve a lesson…

“Or was it…this?,” Bucky spoke sharply in Steve’s ear, hearing Bucky pull his finger out of his mouth. Before Steve could process it, he felt immense pressure at the entrance of his asshole—the most intimate part of his entire body. He shouted against the wall at the abrupt touch, realizing that Bucky had inserted just part of his middle finger into his asshole. 

“Oh—my god—fuck!” Steve cried out, he didn’t know whether to give in or fight it. Truth is, he’s thought about this. This wasn’t foreign territory for him—he’s pictured it, without a doubt—he just didn’t imagine it happening as a coping mechanism for Bucky after being battered with potential queer allegations.

“There you go, sayin’ that word anyway—,” Bucky cleared his throat as he pushed his finger in further, surpassing his last knuckle. His finger was fitting snug up Steve’s asshole—it was warm, and kind of wet. Bucky began moving his finger around inside of Steve, his palm facing the ceiling and his other fingers caught up on and between Steve’s ass. Bucky was moving in a hooking motion, like he was searching for something. He watched Steve’s face twitch, his left eye was closed and his eyebrow squinting. These sounds escaping his pretty mouth were turning Bucky on. 

Bucky glanced down at his own cock, buried in his boxers. He gasped at the realization that he was hard—like, really hard. He could see that precum already started drooling out of his tip, making a wet spot through the fabric. Bucky looked back up at Steve who was still taking his finger, blurting out an ‘ah! ah! ah!’ with every reset Bucky did inside of him. 

Bucky looked down again, his brows were furrowed and his face felt hot—like he was surprised his body wanted this . Before he knew it…he pulled his finger out of Steve, who was left with a small but slightly gaping hole and it made him jump at the sudden gust of air pouring in. 

“Fuck! What the fuck!” Steve cried out, trying to turn his body toward Bucky. 

“I’m not done,” Bucky muttered underneath his breath, feeling the blood in his face wash out of him. He felt light headed, confused by his own actions as his left hand that was placed on Steve’s left shoulder pushed him back into the wall, resetting his grip. 

“Steve, I’m sorry…—Stevie…,” Bucky leaned down into his ear, angry. Tears began to fork on his waterline, but he just kept moving. His voice sounded shaky—and the tears started rolling out. He was pushing himself against Steve and began to cry into his ear, head resting just above his shoulder. 

Steve was looking the other way, and couldn’t comfortably maneuver towards Bucky—but he doubted Bucky wanted to look him in his eyes. 

“I have to…Stevie—I have to,” his Brooklyn accent came on strong as he sniffled and squinted his eyes to push out his tears. 

He stood back up straight , looking down to see he’d already taken his cock out of his boxers and he was there—sitting between Steve’s skinny ass. Bucky started stroking himself—and he felt so good. He threw his head back, gasping into the air before looking back down, pushing out any precum right onto Steve’s hole. 

Bucky lined himself up with Steve and pushed himself into him, slowly. He didn’t know how to handle himself. He wanted to fuck him roughly so that he felt more manly about what he was doing, but this was Steve…his Stevie. It made him hesitate, it made him…careful? He listened as Steve groaned and whimpered with his dick slowly filling his ass. He wanted to be sure he wasn’t hurting him too bad…

“Jesus- Buck- B-b-Bucky- it feels like I-I’m ripping in two—,” Steve panted as his hands turned into fists against the wall, but he wasn’t fighting it. He wasn’t resisting…he was..acclimating? 

“Shh, Stevie…I’m sorry…I have to go deeper,” Bucky said before he pushed himself all the way into Steve. Steve jerked and cried out before settling back down and exhaling shakily, in a way that conveyed pain. Bucky sensually rubbed his hands up and down Steve’s arms as his head rested on his shoulder, whispering “ I’m sorry ” and “ Stevie ” into his ear over and over—and then continued to thrust in and out of Steve, slowly…

Bucky had never felt this good in his life. Not with the dame’s, not with himself, not ever. He felt bliss. He had his eyes closed because he couldn’t bear the thought of being with a man, but in these couple thrusts, his eyes peeled open and he stared at Steve…Steve was right. He wanted to look at him.

Bucky could feel the ridges and waves inside of Steve’s asshole, how each wall had its own texture. It was overstimulating. His hips had a mind of their own, consistent slow thrusts, adhering to Steve’s tolerance. 

“Mmmughh,” Steve whimpered.

“I’m sorry, Stevie,” Bucky was still crying, “I can’t stop,” he admitted, “I can’t fuckin’ stop!”

Steve could barely process the pressure in his asshole. He’d never had something so big pushing itself inside of him. He could feel hints of butterflies so low in his tummy on occasion, and he figured that’s what it may feel like if all of this pain wasn’t so prominent. The pain was overbearing. His moans and cries did not come from a place of pleasure. 

It had already been a couple minutes of Bucky thrusting himself into Steve against the wall. The two of them pant and whimper and Steve winces of pain every other thrust. Steve could hear Bucky whispering ‘fuck’ in his seductive low voice, shaking every now and then. 

But Bucky wanted more. 

He pulled himself out slowly, hearing a big sigh of relief from Steve. He grabbed Steve’s arm firmly and aggressively pulled him to the bedroom—pushing Steve onto the bed. Bucky’s pants were still on just low enough to reveal his dick, but now it was time to take them off. He removed his shirt and pulled Steve’s t-shirt off too.

He crawled on top of Steve, and the two of them glared at each other, no words. Bucky leaned into Steve and stopped, hesitating as Steve’s eager eyes met his. Bucky continued, until his lips touched Steve’s. Before he knew it, his tongue was inside of Steve’s mouth. It was so wet, so slippery. Steve hadn’t ever kissed anybody before, but he followed Bucky’s lead. Their tongues were eagerly licking one another as their mouths occasionally fell into a kiss to gather themselves. 

Bucky’s hand found its way onto Steve’s neck, squeezing lightly. His other hand ran through Steve’s hair until he gripped it tight. Steve didn’t know what to do with his hands. His body was so overstimulated, he couldn’t process where they even were. He didn’t realize they were grabbing onto each of Bucky’s arms, the muscle in his bicep. Steve was holding on for dear life!

Just as sudden as it started, Bucky stopped kissing Steve and pushed himself off until he was glaring down at him once again. Steve felt kind of threatened at Bucky’s erratic behavior and situational comfort.  

Bucky took deep breaths and looked as if he were fighting tears before he sighed, “fuck…Steve,” though not seductively—rather full of guilt. He looked up to the ceiling, grabbing at his head, and took a very deep breath before he looked back down at Steve, who was also panting and looking at Bucky—brows furrowed and guard up. Bucky reached for Steve’s shoulders and quickly rolled him over, where Steve was now laying on his stomach. 

Bucky felt better about this. 

Bucky positioned himself over Steve, completely covering his smaller frame. He had put himself on Steve’s asshole once again, and wrapped his left arm around Steve’s neck, resting his left hand on Steve’s right shoulder. This felt controlled, and Bucky needed that. 

Bucky did the same thing, pushing out any precum before he put it in. He knew this was painful, but he couldn’t help himself. Bucky rubbed his tip on the entrance before he pushed himself inside of Steve and went all the way in. Once he was balls deep, he began to pull out slowly, and then back in again—slowly. He was warming Steve up again, listening to the shakes in his voice that were likely not going to stop tonight. 

“I…have to go faster,” Bucky said this with shame, like he was admitting to a crime. He gritted his teeth as he listened for Steve’s response. 

“It—it hurts,” Steve said quietly, but Bucky heard him. 

“I know, Stevie—I’m so…I’m sorry,” his eyes swelled up and immediately after, he began to pound him, in and out, over and over again. He grunted into Steve’s ear, and tears fell from his own eyes. But he didn’t stop. 

“B-buck- ugh-oahhm ommy ggg-goddd…!!” Steve whimpered, hardly making sense of his words. He could barely contain himself. He never receives this much stimulation, let alone this kind of stimulation. His body generally can’t handle much given his immune system or lack thereof. But that didn’t matter, he couldn’t even pay attention to how he may feel after this. He felt threatened—but he’d never felt so close to Bucky. 

Steve could feel the aggression from Bucky, a sense of power that he held over him. Bucky, who swore up and down that queers are such scum he’d rather not speak of them, was pounding him into his mattress. As this aggression for Bucky manifested…the tighter he’d squeeze Steve’s body, wrists and neck—he could feel the guilt seep through his fingertips…the shame was there. It was all over, but Bucky couldn’t bring himself to stop. 

Bucky felt himself about to finish. He moved his right hand down by Steve’s waist and gripped it real tight, claws digging and all, before he released inside of Steve. Bucky was crying—an extreme release of emotion as he filled Steve to his brim, and pulled himself out of his body, rolling over onto his back and putting his hands to his face. He laid there like that, contemplating this reality.

How did their night come to this?

Chapter Text

Steve, on the other hand, laid there rolled slightly onto his side, where he could see Bucky going through every stage of guilt, and he couldn’t help but feel as though something had been…answered? He couldn’t explain it. It was just a feeling of closure—almost. He panted and caught his breath. As he stared at Buck, his eyes began to examine his own body, revealing the violation that had just occurred. 

He was beat up. Not like the alley ways or the dock fights—no. He had bruises, his hips were scraped up, he had teeth marks along his arms, he was bleeding but he couldn’t tell from where. He didn’t even remember Bucky biting him…So much was happening—it was hard to process. He sat up and felt the discomfort of Bucky’s seed spill out of him. Steve wasn’t sure he could stand. He collapsed back down and let out a big groan of pain—the adrenaline was leaving his body.

“Ooouuuaaah-hhh-hhhh…ughhhh…,” Steve cried out. 

This got Bucky’s attention. He slowly removed his hands from his eyes and began to sit up, blinking hardly to push out the tears that swelled on his waterline. He examined his hands, and then his used up cock that had some unmistakable blood on it. He turned his head left, looking at Steve. Bucky was gonna be sick. 

Before he could do anything else, he quickly leaned off of the bed on his right and fell onto his knees—he threw up. “Oh my god? W-what did I do? What have I done?” He panicked to himself as his knees dug into the cold hard ground. He found it within himself to stand up and really look at Steve. 

He couldn’t believe it. He moved closer to Steve, still naked and vulnerable, and put his hands around Steve’s face, cupping it gently.

“S-steve?—Stevie?” He hesitated at first, but at the second attempt, he found more confidence. His voice shook, like the voice of someone who had just stopped crying. 

“Bucky… you hurt me ,” Steve said softly, eyes still closed. 

Bucky couldn’t believe this. This complete and utter guilt he felt for a million different reasons. He just fucked a guy—like, he really fucked a man. His lips touched another man, his hands, his cock. I mean, he really couldn’t wrap his head around this. And? That man was his best friend. His best friend for life—and his best friend was laying there, in pain and discomfort because of something HE had done to him. He felt so guilty. He was man fucker and a horrible friend. He was a HORRIBLE person. 

“I’m so sorry I-…I’m so…,” his voice trailed off with apologies, whispers and tears began to come out from him. He looked Steve up and down again, vulnerable and wounded on the side of the bed, and as he stood there at the edge, he scooped Steve up into his arms. Steve yelled out from pain at the sudden movement. Bucky winced at the shriek—so much guilt. 

He carried Steve right into the bathroom, and laid him in the bathtub. He turned the faucet and let the water get warm before he plugged the drain. As the bathtub filled up, Bucky scrambled around for a washcloth and some soap, keeping an eye on Steve. 

Finally, Bucky started to clean Steve. He gently scrubbed him with the washcloth, and bubbles began to float atop the water. Steve’s eyes were now open. His eyelids were hung low, but he could still see as Bucky carefully cleaned his body. 

Bucky made his way to Steve’s face, where he had noticed for the first time that his eyes were open. The two stared at each other for a moment before Bucky reached his hands onto Steve’s face and wiped his cheeks with the soapy water, and then moved his hands into Steve’s hair, carefully cleaning him. He did this until he was satisfied with how Steve looked. 

Now that Steve was clean, he took the wash cloth and stood up near the bathtub, and began to wipe his dick and everywhere necessary down, ridding himself of the blood and cum. He moved over to the mirror, where he put his palms in the sink and started to wash his mouth out with soap. Yes, soap. He scrubbed his teeth with the spare toothbrush. He scraped his tongue. He hurriedly did all of this while staring directly into his own eyes, full of guilt. 

At this point, Steve was sitting upright in the tub, knees tucked towards his chest as he watched Bucky continue to lose his mind. Bucky broke eye contact with himself and met Steve’s eyes through the mirror after he had wiped his face with the dry cloth, essentially finishing what he was doing. He stared at Steve through the mirror for a moment before he turned around and walked over to him, pulling him out of the tub, unplugging the drain, and wrapping him in a towel. 

The two walked back out into the bedroom silently. Bucky examined the bed for a moment before he aggressively tore the sheets off and threw them to the corner. He found his boxers and put them on, and then his pants. Bucky quickly cleaned up his puke, which he nearly forgot about. 

He examined the room again, noticing how much darker it had gotten as they were in the later hours of the night at this point. Bucky turned to Steve who was just standing there looking at the balled up sheets with the towel around his waist.

“I’ll be in the kitchen,” Bucky said bluntly, breaking the silence that had been cast over the two of them for the last half an hour. He walked out of the room, leaving the door open. 

Steve stood there alone, collecting all his thoughts. He didn’t know how to feel, let alone what to feel. He was so surprised at everything. The one thing he did know was that he didn’t feel guilty. He walked over to his closet and put on some fresh linens, baggy sleep pants and a white t-shirt. He also put on socks since his feet can get really cold and that can be bad for his health.

When he walked out to the kitchen, he came to see Bucky had turned on the warm yellow light that illuminated a fraction of the kitchen. Bucky was sitting at the table with a glass of rum and the bottle right next to him. He glanced over at Steve quickly before he looked away and took another sip. 

“I thought you weren’t going to be out here when I came,” Steve admitted. 

“I thought a lot of things,” Bucky sighed with a sense of dread attached to his voice. 

Steve walked over to Bucky and took the glass from him. Bucky snapped his neck up to him, angrily before Steve, staring back at him, took a big gulp of the rum as well. Steve never drank—until today. Bucky just stared at him and sighed. 

“Steve…we can’t—we can’t, uh—we can’t tell anyone about today,” Bucky hesitated, breaking eye contact with Steve. 

“Why? Are you afraid people will think you raped me or that you’re just a queer? Which one’s scarier for you?” Steve said passive aggressively. No fucking shit they wouldn’t be telling anyone about this. Bucky’s uncertainty almost felt condescending, like Steve was stupid or something. So, he snapped back. But Bucky didn’t appreciate that. 

“I’ll fuckin’ kill you,” Buck said in a controlled matter, angry but keeping his eyes to himself, running his hand over his face and pulling down at his cheeks while he stretched his jaw. 

“After today, I wouldn’t put it past you,” Steve said before he set the glass down and walked into the living room, collapsing into the couch. 

Bucky finished the glass and then walked out over to Steve. He sat down on the couch beside him, giving a reasonable amount of space between the two of them. They both sat in silence and Bucky put his fist in his mouth, biting hard at his knuckles. He was anxious. 

“Can we talk about this without you getting mad at me, Bucky?” Steve asked, turning towards Bucky. 

Bucky cleared his throat and wiped his knuckles onto his pants, “I think we have to,” Bucky said defeated. 

“How do we start?” Steve had no idea. 

“I’m sorry for what I did to you,” Bucky’s eyes welled up, “I’m sick with somethin’, Stevie…I couldn’t even look at you, and when I could, it made me feel like a lucky boy until I’d remember that you are a boy, and then that made me sick. I’m sick all around, ‘m not okay, Stevie,” Bucky rambled quickly and hesitantly, as tears began to fall from his eyes, “‘N I mean, look at you, I hurt you bad, real bad, and I couldn’t contain myself. You’re hurtin’ bad because of somethin’ I did to you, ‘m suppose to care for you, ‘m suppose to be your best friend, ‘n what I did to you was wrong ,” he kept rambling, fidgeting his hands together. 

“Bucky, it’s okay,” Steve didn’t know what to say. 

“But it isn’t okay, ‘cause I liked it Steve—hell, I loved it, I ain’t never felt so good before, and lookin’ at you now it’s like the only thing I want to do, but there’s somethin’ in me that knows it’s wrong ,” Bucky said more calmly, tears still falling from his eyes. 

“Bucky…I,” he was at a loss. 

“Didn’t I hurt you Stevie? It was blood, I saw, you were hurtin’ and you didn’t ask me to stop—why weren’t you asking me to stop!?” Bucky exclaimed in this moment of reflection. 

“Would you have?” Steve spoke quietly. 

Bucky gazed at him for what felt like a minute before he sighed, “I don’t know.”

“It hurt me real bad at first. But some point…? It started to feel good,” Steve scratched his head, “I’ve touched myself like that before,” he felt honest. Bucky heard his heart skip a beat when Steve admitted to it feeling good. 

“I hurt you bad , Stevie. Look at yourself, I bit your arms and shoulder, I made you bleed. I bit your neck. I felt like I couldn’t control myself. It felt so good being inside of you like that, I ain’t never felt that with the dame’s,” Bucky felt increasingly comfortable talking about this with Steve. 

“So, what does that mean? I mean, what does any of this mean,” Steve sighed and leaned further into the couch, putting his hands to his face and rubbing his eyes. 

“This can’t never happen again, Stevie. This is the kind of thing that gets us killed,” Bucky shook his head and looked down. 

“How can we pretend like this didn’t happen—I can’t promise you that, Bucky,” Steve replied, annoyed. 

“‘Cause I ain’t a queer, Stevie. This isn’t my path. It might be yours but I ain’t getting caught up in this ,” Bucky moved further up onto the couch and laid back, sprawled out and manspreading while he stared at the ceiling. 

Steve honestly couldn’t look away. Bucky looked good. His shirt was still off, and Steve looked intently at his body. He didn’t get this view before. 

“How can you be sure?” Steve said bluntly. Bucky looked over to Steve. 

“Sure of what?”

“How can you be sure you’re not queer ,” Steve moved on his side, facing Bucky. 

“Well…I like women,” Bucky said unconvincingly. 

“And if I tell you that I think I’ve liked men before, would you hurt me for it?” Steve was taking a risk. 

“Don’t think I have it in me to hate you, Stevie,” Bucky said softly. 

“Good, ‘cause then I’d really be alone in this world,” Steve wiped a tear from his cheek. 

“So is that what you’re sayin’ then? That you’re queer?”

“I don’t think I like that word, Buck, but…yeah. I’ve always not been into dame’s like that, and today—well, today helped me really understand what goes on inside my head. I mean, I can’t even look at your body without…well maybe I should stop while I’m ahead,” Steve felt vulnerable. 

“Without what?” Bucky pushed, hesitantly. 

“Well, I don’t have the words…so maybe I’ll just–,” Steve began to pull himself over top of Bucky, legs on each side of him. He was basically sitting in his lap, looking down at him as he was elevated from the position. “How does this make you feel?”

“I-I don’t know,” Bucky gulped and examined Steve on his body. A minute passed of them sitting like this, awkward and hesitant—breathing heavily and analyzing each other’s faces. Bucky’s eyes kept trailing down, looking at Steve’s body sitting on top of him. Bucky made a conscious effort to keep his hands to himself. 

“You may not be able to tell me…Bucky…but I can feel you right now,” Steve broke the silence, rolling his hips over Bucky’s groin, “I feel your dick, Bucky—you’re hard,” Steve said assertively–Bucky following with a sharp inhale.

“Steve—this just— this is the kind of thing that happens behind closed doors,” Bucky hesitated nervously, keeping his hands off of Steve’s body, balled into fists on the cushion. 

“Our doors are closed,” Steve whispered, contemplating his next move. Their eyes kept an intense lock on one another, and Steve made up his mind. He leaned in to kiss Bucky—and he was scared, admittedly. So far, Bucky had been rough and aggressive, he only had one moment of calm before his guilty nature took over. So, Steve was nervous to see how this played out.

“Steve, I—,” Bucky said softly before Steve’s lips had shut him up. They began to kiss, awkwardly at first—like they were unsure. Bucky’s mouth hung open as shaky breaths escaped him, and Steve let him breathe while their heads pressed against each other. They kept at it, soft pecks as the two exchanged breaths of uncertainty. 

Steve had never felt so emotional in his life. It’s like his world was becoming everything he never knew he wanted. He was in pain from earlier, and felt so turned on at the same time. He hadn’t ever kissed somebody like this—like there were new chemicals as their saliva mixed. 

The kiss got deeper, and Bucky’s hands were on Steve’s waist now. He was playing with the waistband, slipping his fingers in gently while creating a new ecosystem between he and his best friend's mouths. 

This continued for several minutes before Bucky pushed Steve off of his face and the two were now staring at one another with anxious but eager glares. 

“We can’t do this again—what are we doing?!” Bucky whispered like he had something to hide.

“Bucky…please,” Steve pouted—almost. Like he was embarrassed, but he was just being honest. 

Without any extra convincing, “won’t it hurt you?” Bucky asked almost endearingly. 

“It won’t matter,” Steve whispered as he rolled off of Bucky for a moment to take off his pants. He got right back onto Bucky—who still had his pants on. 

The two continued to glare at each other before Bucky pulled Steve’s shirt off. Steve could see the guilt in Bucky’s eyes. He thought about it—how he might resent him come tomorrow. 

Steve was hovered enough for Bucky to reach down and undo his pants. He was able to pull out his dick, which was already rock hard and dripping with precum. Steve was looking down at it as Bucky stroked it, looking up towards Steve. 

“I didn’t really get to see it last time,” Steve said astounded. 

“I couldn’t look you in the eyes,” Bucky said softly as he blinked hard and looked down at his cock. 

Steve had begun lowering himself to take advantage of the precum. It hurt, pushing himself down onto the tip. His asshole was worn out, raw almost. But he wasn’t new to this. Like he said, he’s played with himself before. Once the tip was fully in, it became easier to let himself fall onto Bucky—gravity was on his side. He watched Bucky’s face as it happened, how his eyes squinted and his brows furrowed, his mouth hung open. Steve couldn’t hold himself together any better. The pain and pleasure of it all—well it was unbearable. 

“Oh my god,” Steve whimpered. He started to move himself up and down. Bucky felt eager, and he used his hands on Steve’s waist to guide him. The two started slowly, exchanging glares before Bucky pulled Steve into him and began to kiss him with passion. 

Bucky’s hand had a fistful of Steve’s hair as the two rocked back and forth together. Bucky pulled Steve’s head back slightly until he was able to whisper in his ear.

“This can’t never happen again, okay Stevie?” Bucky said shakily, as Steve was actively taking him balls deep—and Steve kept panting–“okay Stevie?” Bucky said it a little louder, tightening his grip on Steve’s waist.

“Oh-ouh—okay…mmmnnhmm—Bu-ugh-ucky,” it almost felt like Steve was TRYING to tease Bucky. He moaned the entire reply and even said his name. Bucky almost climaxed right then and there. 

“ I mean it ,” Bucky pleaded as he kissed Steve’s ear, trailing to his neck. He kissed the bite marks he had made prior. And then he began to suck on them. Steve’s skin was quickly turning purple. “ No one can know about this ,” he continued. 

“Mmhmnn…,” Steve teased. 

“No one can know how I take care of my best friend,” Okay, Bucky was teasing too now. 

The two kept going for several minutes, kissing and panting, breathless moans and shaky inhales before Bucky couldn’t hold it anymore. He gripped Steve’s waist tight and leaned his head into Steve’s shoulder as he cried out in pleasure. 

“I’m cumming, Stevie—I’m cu—oohhh my gggodddd,” he leaned back into the couch feeling his body pump out whatever he had left, leaving him drained. Steve stared at Bucky’s pinched face, where his lips were still in the shape of an ‘O’. Steve admired him…looking like this–he leaned down and kissed him on the lips, closing his parted ‘O’ face. Bucky kissed back, but he kept his eyes closed and his brows furrowed—like he was afraid to look at Steve.

Steve lifted himself off of Bucky and rolled onto the couch, his bottom half on the floor. In the moments after, they both continued to catch their breaths and take a minute to settle in what had just happened. Bucky eventually opened his eyes and felt as though it was his responsibility to clean this up. He got up and took a towel from the kitchen, and started to wipe himself down. He lifted Steve from off of the ground and laid him across the couch, ass up, so that he could wipe him down–Steve felt limp. 

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky muttered as he cleaned up. Steve was basically passed out from exhaustion and the physical violation his body went through twice today. He lay there as Bucky cleaned him up, eyes closed and faintly conscious. 

Once he was satisfied with the cleanliness, he made sure to note that Steve still had his socks on. Bucky put his pants back on and then crawled on top of Steve, wedging himself into the corner of the couch between the cushioned back and Steve. 

He was cuddling him, keeping him warm. He felt guilty for everything. Bucky pulled the blanket that was draped over the couch onto him and Steve. 

His arm wrapped tightly around Steve’s body. Steve felt warm, warmer than he has in a long time. Bucky was like a furnace. He snuggled up against Bucky, naked and vulnerable—but he felt safe. 

The silence felt like a punishment, and Bucky was struggling to find comfort in it, but he didn’t have any words either. So…silence it was. He felt himself beginning to tear up, hot flashes in his cheeks, before the exhaustion had taken him off to sleep. Until tomorrow, peace prevailed. 

Chapter Text

Steve woke up to sunlight seeping in through his living space window. It took him a moment to remember where he was and what had happened the last 12 hours. He quickly noticed that Bucky’s presence was missing, and there was a note on the coffee table with ink scribbled across it.

“Gone to the docks - Buck”

Steve sighed and began to stretch, relishing in the soreness of his entire body. He had put on his pants that still lay on the floor before he stood up and made his way to the kitchen—making some coffee and having some fruit for breakfast.

He wondered if Bucky was going to come back that day. He worked down at the docks most times, and would usually come home to Steve or occasionally stay at his family home where he’d take care of his parents. Bucky was unpredictable, and given the circumstances of the last 12 hours, Steve was genuinely nervous for what was to come.

He really couldn’t wrap his head around it himself. I mean, all this time of knowing Bucky for it all to lead up to this earthquake of a moment—this soul defining prominence. Steve felt butterflies in his stomach reminiscing about how Bucky touched him, how they kissed—how Bucky felt ashamed but that wasn’t enough to stop him.

It was so complicated.

Steve looked down at his hips, examining these marks Bucky imprinted onto him. It looked like they could scar, and the bruising around them was rather artistic. Steve nearly felt inspired to pick up his pen and paper again—start selling some pieces. He had been out of commission lately given his sickly condition, though if the last 12 hours taught him anything, he could withstand a lot more than he let on.

Steve wasted his day cleaning around the house and taking frequent endurance breaks, meanwhile Bucky…

Was down at the docks, helping move cargo off and on to ships. The boats he was working today weren’t so big, rather manageable to handle with the smaller dock crew today. Bucky kept to himself, quieter than usual and his buddies seemed to notice.

“Hey, James- ya seem quiet this day, huh? Cold gettin’ to ya?” This was Robbie, he was a talker who always found a way to include everybody.

“Just got a lot on my mind today, Robbie,” Bucky sighed and kept his eyes low.

“Hope nothin’ too bad,” he meant it.

“Don’t feel real enough yet for it to feel as bad as it is,” Bucky said mysteriously.

“Right on, brother,” Robbie laughed, patting Bucky’s shoulder in an endearing manner, signifying the relatability of Bucky’s statement—alluding regret.

The two fell back in their streamline of cargo movers, handing heavy sacks off to one another like a conveyor belt. This was the main part of the job, all day everyday. They did a bunch of other little things, like cleaning up and occasionally attempting some mechanics on the smaller boats. Bucky didn’t dislike this job, but his mind had been elsewhere all day.

He kept getting these gut punches of good nervousness when he’d think back to how it felt last night, and then that gut punch would turn into a throat punch—like he’d forgotten how to breathe for a moment. It was like this all day. He wasn’t sure who he’d go home to tonight.

After the day faded, Bucky was walking home before he realized he had walked to Steve’s apartment. It was like he had been on autopilot, and just came here out of innate desire.

Steve had just finished taking his bath when he heard the front door rattle. Quickly putting on his clothes, he decided to collapse into his now clean bed sheets and lay there, pretending to be asleep.

Bucky walked into the room quietly and immediately went to the bathroom, turning on the shower. Dock work was something nasty during the colder months.

After he cleaned himself up real good, he collapsed next to Steve on the clean sheets. Aside from last night, sleeping on the same bed together was never a weird dynamic between these two. They’d done it many times before, as Steve only has one bedroom since his folks passed and he moved here. They never minded and it never felt weird, rather a blessing to be able to afford housing like that given the times they lived in. A bulk of their childhood was during the great depression, and they swore to never take their luxuries for granted again.

Sooo, sharing a bed? It wasn’t weird, it was routine. The space between them felt larger than usual, and Bucky just laid there looking at the ceiling, fighting his urge to go outside for a smoke. He didn’t want to come back smelling of ashes and cause Steve’s lungs to act up.

“How was it down at the docks today?” Steve startled Bucky, who didn’t realize he was awake.

“Jesus, Steve!” He nearly laughed before the overwhelming dread washed over him. “Yeah, it was alright. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“You sound drained,” Steve commented.

“Yeah, well, that wadn’t the docks,” Bucky sighed and pinched between his eyes on the bridge of his nose, attempting to relieve a headache.

“Right…well I’m feeling real sore today, thanks for asking. Was able to clean up a bit but not too much,” Steve said bitterly.

“I swear Steve, you never make things easy,” Bucky turned away from him and laid on his side, turning off the only lamp left on in the room.

The room got dark and cool, silence rang between the walls. Steve didn’t want to fight him, so he burrowed into the covers and let the dreams take him.

The next morning felt like deja vu, only it was in his bedroom this time. Bucky was gone with another note left behind. “Docks - B” Steve would crumble these up and toss them into one of his drawers. This went on for days, and days turned into weeks.

The two would hardly speak and Bucky couldn’t even look him in the eyes anymore. He’d come home late and then leave early in the morning. Steve felt miserable, and started drawing again. He’d draw Bucky, focusing his eyes and how warm they felt when the two embraced one another as close as people can get. He wanted that picture to last forever—so he’d just draw it.

These sketches helped him make a buck on the street, he’d sell his portraits and landscapes to anybody willing to buy, and boy was he budget friendly. Steve needed to do what he could—he’d always felt guilty about Bucky having to take care of him physically and financially. Bucky never seemed to mind, but it was a struggle Steve had within himself. He always felt that he was meant for more, but his circumstances were so dull and unsatisfying to what his heart felt capable of.

So, he adapted. He did what he could, and that’s the best you can do.

Steve thought Bucky putting time between the incident and them would help the two feel more comfortable around each other, but as the days dragged on, he began to feel frustrated. He couldn’t conceptualize how Bucky was able to avoid every single conversation about this. Literally. Steve had tried everything, and Bucky always found a way to shoot it down or just not say anything at all

This had to change.

Chapter Text

Steve was getting impatient. This wasn’t just about Bucky. It was him too, and he felt like Bucky was acting as if he was in this alone. So, sitting around and waiting wasn’t an option for Steve anymore. If you can do something to better a situation, just do it—Steve thought to himself.

Bucky came crashing down into the bed again after taking his routine shower, and Steve didn’t waste a minute.

“I think about us having sex everyday,” he said abruptly, with intent to shock Bucky. He may have tried everything, but bluntness? Not yet.

Bucky shot his eyes at Steve like they were weapons, “Jesus..Steve. You better keep that dirty mouth shut,” but there was nothing funny about it. Bucky had a deadpan look on his face, like any wrong word and he might let the wolf out.

“I mean it, Buck. I get hard thinking about it, and thinking about you. And I don’t know if you thought I’d get over it or something but you got it wrong, and I won’t ever forget about it. I hate that you won’t acknowledge it,” Steve sighed and cozied up into his pillow.

“I hate that you want to talk about it. Just reminds me you’re some queer ‘n that it’ll probably end up getting you killed,” Bucky sighed too, defeated in their reality.

“It might come down to that if I start going someplace else to get what I need,” Steve tensed up after these words escaped him. It felt like he didn’t even mean to say that.

Bucky angled himself further over towards Steve, with a harsh and concerned look on his face. “How do you mean?” except he knew exactly what he meant.

“Don’t make me say it,” Steve turned away, ashamed.

“You’d let some strange men touch you just because I won’t?” Bucky said disgustedly.

“Oh please, you can hardly look at me,” Steve rolled his eyes, “a touch from a strange man would be better than sharing a breath of space with you these last couple weeks,” it felt mean, but necessary.

“Jesus Christ, Steve, it’s like you want to get killed,” Bucky shook his head in pure frustration.

“I don’t want anything…I just need it. I’m not satisfied by myself, and ever since I got a taste of what touch can feel like..I just…I need more,” Steve was being serious, and Bucky could tell he was sexually frustrated.

“I don’t want you going out there and getting yourself into trouble, Stevie,” Bucky said sternly.

“I don’t have a choice anymore, Buck,” Steve pivoted.

“No, no, you’re being reckless-“

“Please, Buck. You don’t understand ‘cause somehow you’re able to pretend like nothing between us ever happened, but it’s all I can think about,” their voices began to raise and they were shifting their bodies at one another as it happened.

“I swear to god, Steve, you’ll end up getting hurt,”

“If that’s what it takes,”

“Stop it,”

“Why do you even care anyway?”

“I can’t have some random man touchin’ on you,”

“Okay, and if he’s not random? Yeah, let me take you two to dinner first so you can tell me whether or not you want him fucking my ass,” bluntness found its way into Steve’s mouth easily these days.

“NO! No, fucking Jesus Christ,” Bucky was shocked at Steve’s words, like a punch in the gut.

“Was it something I said?” Steve rolled his eyes and folded onto his back, giving up on the tension.

“I don’t want another man touching you,” Bucky said quietly.

“You act like it’s your choice,” Steve was over it.

“Steve, I won’t allow it,” Bucky said, turning towards Steve and reaching for his arm, “come here,” — he pulled Steve towards him.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked nervously. Bucky had pulled him into his lap, like Steve was sitting between his legs as the two both sat up against the bed frame.

“I don’t want another man touching you— it’s my job to take care of you, it’s what I do and what I’ve always done,” Bucky said as his hands trailed down to Steve’s boxers. He reached underneath the waistband and pulled his dick out.

“Oh wow,” Steve whispered as he quickly understood what Bucky was doing–he surrendered himself completely, letting Bucky take control. Bucky had wrapped his warm big hand around Steve’s average sized cock, and began to stroke him gently.

His grip was tight but respectful around his cock, starting slowly as Steve melted deeper against Bucky’s body.

“Bucky…I..,” Steve didn’t even know what he wanted to say, he was just surprised.

“Deep breaths, Stevie, this is to help you relax,” Bucky suggested in a way that justified his actions to himself. Whether he could say it out loud or not, Bucky wanted this.

He wanted to touch Steve, he wanted to share intimacy with him no matter the cost. No one else mattered. He just couldn’t find it within himself to say such things—let alone think it. So…he would stop thinking. Instead, he just let his body take the lead. Words would slip out in these moments of weakness, and he would say things that even he couldn’t believe.

“Does that feel good?” Bucky whispered into Steve’s ear. His head lay on Bucky’s chest and he could see as Bucky would dip his head down by his shoulder.

“Y-yes..I.,,” again, Steve couldn’t find the words. Bucky seemed to like his hesitation and overstimulation—with his free left hand, he wrapped his fingers along Steve’s chin and lifted his chin up towards him, now looking down at Steve’s eyes. Bucky held his head up like this.

“You’re so cute when you’re miserable,” Bucky said in a mocking way, trying to make Steve feel vulnerable and shy, “can you cum for me, Stevie?” Steve’s breaths were getting more and more labored. He couldn’t hold himself together. His hands were gripping the sheets as his eyes remained locked with Bucky’s.

“Mmnn..mhhaaa,” Steve was losing it. Bucky’s hand slid up onto Steve’s mouth and he started stroking him faster. This got intense. Steve’s body began to recoil forward, and Bucky kept himself wrapped around Steve comfortably, moving forward with him.

Bucky felt Steve’s hot cum dripping through his fingers, “good boy,” he whispered to Steve. Steve lay there in Bucky’s arms, panting at the release his tense body had felt.

Bucky analyzed the mess and just let Steve rest in his arms against his chest for a moment before doing anything else. He almost wanted to lick the cum up so as not to dirty another rag…but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. After a minute or two of letting Steve rest, Bucky swiftly got out from behind Steve and retrieved a rag from the bathroom. He wiped Steve down and then washed his hands.

Bucky washed his hands vigorously as he stared at himself in the mirror. His expression looked angry, like he had relapsed—done something he shouldn’t have.

Bucky walked back into the room to see Steve had taken off his soiled pants and was just laying down naked on his back. He sat up and met eyes with Bucky.

“Let me return the favor,” Steve said as Bucky collapsed against his pillows.

“No,”

“Please, Buck,” Steve crawled over towards Bucky until his head was above his crotch. He put his hand on top of Bucky’s dick—he could feel it pulsing through his boxers, “please…let me,” Steve kissed his dick through the fabric.

Bucky leaned back with a disgusted look on his face, eyes crooked and brows furrowed—but he hadn’t said anything. It looked like he was contemplating. Steve kept kissing his cock…

“Please…Buck..,” he’d say between each kiss. He did this as he slowly pulled his boxers down enough to pull out Bucky’s hard cock.

This was Steve’s first time seeing him up close. He couldn’t believe how big he actually was, and how he had been fully inside of him before. He had to be 7.5 inches…and thick.

Steve kissed the now exposed flesh, and Bucky flinched, gripping the sheets. He kept staring down at Steve, like he was eager but nervous to indulge. Steve teased him, touching the tip to his lips and kissing it softly. Bucky wasn’t saying anything.

Steve finally gave in, and slowly inserted his cock into his mouth, wrapping his wet lips perfectly around him. He went as far as he could before he choked and had to begin pulling it out. Steve began to suck his dick, bobbing his head up and down slowly. His arms reached up to Bucky’s hips and grabbed his sides.

Bucky was letting this happen despite every inking in his body fighting against it. He couldn’t believe how good this felt. Before he knew it, he saw his right hand going to run his fingers through Steve’s hair and guide his head through this process. His left hand grabbed Steve’s bicep and he began to squeeze him, tightly.

Steve continued to take Bucky’s cock in his mouth, gasping for breath between swallows. He would grip the bottom of Bucky’s shaft to hold him in place while he tried to slide Bucky down his throat, as far as he could go. Steve wanted to impress him—he wanted him to want this again. What he didn’t know was that Bucky already wanted this again, no matter what—but he’d never tell him that.

Bucky tightened his grip on Steve’s head, pulling his hair. He was following Steve’s lead, not pushing or pulling him—just letting his lips glide the way. Bucky felt unbelievable. It felt SO good—so good, he had to say something.

“Stevie…I think I’m going to cum,” Bucky expected Steve to take his mouth off of him, he was getting ready to jerk himself off to finish the way. Steve didn’t stop, though.

Instead, Steve started sucking faster, moving his hand along with his mouth as if it were a dance. Bucky sat up more, elbows holding him up staring down at Steve in disbelief. He couldn’t hold it anymore.

“Stev-Steve I-,” he began to cum, right into Steve’s mouth. What the hell is going on!? As soon as it started, he fell back into the bed releasing his arms and head from the tension of holding himself up. He completely collapsed, flinching as the cum pumped out of him.

When he stopped cumming, Bucky looked down at Steve. Steve let Bucky’s dick slide out of his mouth, and swallowed what Bucky had let release. Steve crawled up on top of Bucky.

The two looked each other in the eyes, and Steve didn’t hesitate—no. He just wanted to look at him first, before he made the embrace he had been anticipating. He leaned down to kiss Bucky, who was breathing shakily as Steve hovered over him.

Their lips sealed together at first, one soft and long kiss. Steve broke the kiss by lifting his head up and opening his eyes again to see Bucky—but Bucky didn’t waste time. He leaned up into Steve’s lips to continue the kiss—this time more sloppy. The two pushed and pulled at one another as their lips met and unmet, allowing space for breaths and tongues to slip through.

Bucky took it upon himself to sit all the way up, lining Steve’s spine and bony shoulder blades with his large rough hands. This gave Steve chills—on top of the ones he was already experiencing. He let out a gasp at the feel of Bucky’s touch.

This night wasn’t over yet.

Chapter Text

Bucky maneuvered Steve by grabbing his upper thighs that were spread on each side of him, and moved him to the side where Steve now sat on the bed and Bucky quickly filled the gap between his legs. Their lips remained in contact the entire shift—Steve could feel the desperation in Bucky’s movements.

Bucky situated himself on top of Steve—who had now sunken into the bed on his back, with his legs still spread and Bucky laying between them. The two continued to make out like this, Bucky’s half-hard cock laying across Steve’s stomach. One arm held the back of Steve’s head while the other caressed over his body, touching the parts of him that only he himself had touched up to this moment.

“Buc..are you-..sure?” Steve whispered between kisses.

“No,” Bucky’s voice shook, but he didn’t hesitate in his action.

With his right arm, he pulled Steve’s left leg up, hand behind his knee. Pausing the kisses for a moment, he looked down to the vaguely illuminated bed from the moon pouring through the window and lubed up Steve’s asshole with his spit. He began to stroke his cock, squeezing out any leftover cum before he desperately put the tip at his asshole.

Bucky made sure to lean back down on top of Steve and look him in the eyes as he entered his body. He went slow—listening to Steve’s breaths as each inch spilled inside of him. Bucky went in as far as he could go before beginning to pull himself out—slowly. He leaned down to continue kissing Steve, who reluctantly kissed back, as he had other things on his mind.

His gasps were loud—this angle was different. It felt unbelievable, Steve couldn’t wrap his head around all of the pressure. He felt like this was the deepest Bucky had ever been—and maybe it was just the circumstances of it all—Bucky chose to put him like this, facing his eyes while Steve surrendered beneath his body. Steve was in paradise.

Bucky redirected his kisses to Steve’s neck once he realized Steve wasn’t going to be able to focus enough for a kiss. As Bucky kissed his neck, his strides became slightly faster. His hips moved in a fluid motion, gently fucking Steve into the mattress. His hand was still holding Steve’s left leg up, and he began to squeeze him tightly.

Steve felt himself succumbing to the pain and pleasure of it all. Every time he thought he’d felt the best he could, something else would happen that would take everything up a notch.

“Do I feel good, Stevie?” Bucky panted shamelessly. He moved his right hand out from Steve’s leg and up to his face, grabbing his jaw and gripping it tightly. His left arm remained at his side in an L shape, holding him up comfortably as his hips thrust into Steve’s twink body.

“Yes, B-buck..,” Steve whispered in gasps that escaped from his tongue as Bucky reinvented his exit.

“Promise me you won’t tell anybody about this, Stevie,”

“I- I prom-ise…Buc,”

“Good boy,” Bucky kissed his lips and moved his hand from his jaw down to his throat, with a loose grip but tight enough for Steve to feel constrained.

Bucky kept pumping himself into Steve, their skin meeting at their groins, sticking together and peeling apart as the sweat fabricated. Bucky kept rocking himself into Steve. He felt like he could cum at any moment, but he willingly held back. He wanted this to last—he wasn’t just trying to get off—he wanted to feel like he was really having sex…with Steve.

“God..Stevi-,” Bucky said with a gasp. His asshole felt so good. He was tight, and so slippery—Bucky couldn’t conceptualize a better feeling.

“D-deeper,” Steve pleaded in a whisper. At this, Bucky felt shivers run down his spine—it felt like he just got harder—if that’s even possible.

“Careful what you wish for, Stevie,” Bucky slowed his pace as he said this. He had resituated his legs and moved Steve slightly til the two lay more comfortably. Bucky slowly pushed himself into Steve until his balls met his entrance. The slowness of it all made Steve cry out—though he was getting loud.

“Shh…,” Bucky said as he went in to kiss Steve, shushing him up. Their tongues escaped their mouths over and over as Bucky slowly began to pick up his pace again.

“Steve…” Bucky began to whisper in his ear, panting between each thrust.

“Bucky…” Steve whimpered.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this again,” it sounded like a confession—Steve could feel the guilt. Bucky had the tendency to introduce a little more pain whenever these waves of guilt would wash over him—his hand squeezed tighter around Steve’s neck as those words fell from his lips.

“B-b-let-g-“ Steve couldn’t utter a sentence until Bucky released his grip. He ran his hand through Steve’s blonde hair until he gripped onto a tuft of it on the back of his head. He pulled Steve’s head back so he was looking up higher—meeting Bucky’s eyes.

“You hurt me,” Steve said this as if it were a statement, not a comment. At this point, Bucky had hurt Steve during sex a lot—so this wasn’t an observation.

“I think I like to,” Bucky said deviantly as he broke eye contact to lean in for a kiss…or two.

The two continued kissing as Bucky took Steve’s right leg and pulled it up to squeeze his own body. Steve took the lead once he understood Bucky’s motion. He brought both legs around Bucky’s body, interlocking them above his back.

Bucky put both forearms on either side of Steve’s head and held them together to support him. Steve felt comfortable—he felt safe. He kissed Steve's forehead softly as his slow pace picked up faster. He was going hard. Bucky pounded Steve into the mattress so hard, he had to shimmy his palm to cover Steve’s mouth—because boy was he drawing attention.

Bucky didn’t stop, though. It just made him harder—IF THAT’S EVEN POSSIBLE. He kept going until he felt his cum leaking out of him. It started shooting out before he could even process his climax. Steve was shaking, and Bucky could feel his legs loosen their grip as his body twitched in overstimulated pleasure.

It felt like he was cumming for a minute before his own body relaxed overtop of Steve’s, who was panting with his eyes closed and his body limp. Bucky pulled himself out of Steve and remained hovering over top of him with his head in the pillow next to Steve’s head.

“Fuck…” Bucky sighed in a relaxed manner. He laid down sideways next to Steve, looking at his face. Steve opened his eyes to evaluate the shift in movement, turning his head to the right. He and Bucky made eye contact and stared at one another.

“What does this mean,” Steve broke the silence.

“Mm,” Bucky made a sound that Steve couldn’t decipher. Maybe he was thinking. Either way, he didn’t look away from Steve. He wasn’t shutting down.

“I could do this all day,” Steve said with a laugh to ease the unspoken tension. Bucky cracked a smile and a laugh escaped through his teeth.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” Bucky remained with his eyes on Steve’s. It was endearing, his remark to a comment that was more than obviously a joke. Steve felt…butterflies? He felt protected.

“Does it feel like the dames, Buck?” Steve remembered the first time it happened, Bucky stated otherwise. But he wanted to hear him say it again. Bucky glared at him and cracked another smile before he said,

“Better,”—his hand reaching over to Steve, running his fingers through his hair. When his hand got to the back of Steve’s head, he pulled him closer so that the two could kiss. They did. The kisses were soft and delicate—driven from love, not lust.

Chapter Text

“Let’s clean up,” Bucky whispered to Steve.

“Mhm,” Steve agreed.

At that, Bucky got off of the bed, scooping Steve up in his arms before walking the two of them to the bathroom. Bucky set Steve down in the bathtub. He turned on the faucet and let it get real warm before he plugged the drain. Bucky plucked a couple of leaves off of the eucalyptus plant that Steve keeps in his bathroom and placed them into the water.

He got in the tub, sitting behind Steve. The water filled up high before Steve leaned over and turned it off. The two laid together in the hot water, letting it ease their aching muscles. Bucky already started washing Steve with the soap, rubbing it across his shoulders and chest, despite half being in the water.

He washed him gently, scrubbed his scalp with a midas touch.

“Your skin is so soft, Steve,” Bucky spoke smoothly, floating through the calmness of the atmosphere.

“Your chest is so warm,” Steve responded.

“I don’t think I can pretend that this won’t happen again,” Bucky said in truth.

“How do you feel about that?” Steve asked, still leaning against his chest, facing the wall. As much as he wanted to analyze Bucky’s expressions, he thought giving him a moment to think without the pressure of his gaze was for the best.

“I honestly haven’t got a clue…how do you feel about it?” Bucky said in a sigh and cleared his throat before the question.

“Bucky, you won’t ever hear me complaining. I’d take anything you’d give me. Hugs, kisses, handjobs, sex—hell, I’d even take your hand in marriage,” Steve laughed to himself as his ramble got increasingly complicated. He knew Bucky might freak out at the thought, but he didn’t care anymore.

“Hm, don’t be ridiculous,” Bucky gave a half laugh before he spoke with uncertainty.

“Buck, I’m not messing with you. Don’t you get it?” Steve sat forward and turned his body enough to see Bucky’s face.

“Well what?” Bucky enticed.

“Obviously I like you—but these times ain’t in my favor in any way. I’m doomed in health, in work, and in love,” Steve was rambling again, eyes trailing the tile of the flooring.

“I don’t understand?” Bucky seemed genuinely lost. Steve looked him dead in the eyes and got on his knees, facing Bucky entirely. He put his hands on Bucky’s shoulders and said as directly as he could,

“I mean that if it was up to me, I would call you my boyfriend,” Steve patted his shoulder before letting go and standing up to get out of the tub, leaving Bucky in his stunned silence long enough to comprehend Steve’s perspective. He knew this kind of thing wasn’t something Bucky had ever thought about, despite his lustful tendencies. Really, he’s just been acting on compulsion—Bucky hasn’t taken the time to break it down and comprehend the meaning of it and why it’s happening.

Steve went back into the bedroom and removed the sheet, replacing it with a new one. He threw on some boxers and socks.

“Should really start laying down some towels,” he muttered to himself. Steve crawled into bed, exhausted. He fell asleep as he listened to Bucky shuffling around in the bathroom—draining the tub, brushing his teeth, cleaning up—it was all music to Steve’s ears, knowing Bucky was just behind the door.

Bucky came out of the bathroom, fresh and clean. He looked at Steve laying cozy in bed, and then he looked at the bedroom door. Bucky stood there, contemplating. He opened the dresser drawer to put on some clean boxers, and then he looked at the bed again. Bucky was fidgeting around—as if he was stalling. He kept making glances at the bed before finally deciding to get in it, next to Steve.

He did it quietly so as not to wake Steve up, who was obviously passed out at this point. Bucky looked up to the ceiling and squinted hard before opening his eyes and rolling onto his side, placing an arm over Steve. He pulled Steve into his chest tightly and made adjustments until he was the most relaxed he could be. At that, his eyes fell closed.

—

The sun spilled through Steve’s sheer curtains as his eyes blinked open. He felt warmth wrapped around him, much stiffer than a blanket. He couldn’t believe it as he realized Bucky was holding him while still fast asleep. Steve nearly cried at the embrace.

As he lay there fighting tears, the reality of everything found its way in. He wasn’t struggling with guilt like Bucky had been, he was struggling with frustration and envy—envy of women. Steve couldn’t fathom that he lived in a world where he wasn’t allowed to have what he was so confident he wanted. He was so distraught as the emotions rushed in that the tears won the fight.

Steve broke down crying, and he was loud. He almost sounded hysterical, and that woke Bucky up in an instant. Immediately, Bucky was concerned.

“W-what’s wrong?!” He frantically sat up looking down at Steve’s face with a panic. “Steve??” He shook his arm as Steve continued to cry and put his hands to his face.

“Steve?!”

Bucky sat him up and continued to fidget with his face trying to get him to stop—but nothing was working. Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve really tight in a last stitch effort to put pressure on his nervous system. He had positioned himself to sit behind Steve and his arms lay across his chest and stomach.

Steve’s crying began to slow as he caught his breath.

“Steve? Are you okay..?” Bucky said softly with a concerned tone in his voice.

“I-I…I’ll never be s-satisfied i-in th-this life,” Steve said with sharp breaths.

“Steve…” Bucky felt sick. Steve was right, this was unattainable. All of it. Bucky’s eyes began to swell but he kept it quiet.

“I’ll never be happy,” Steve sounded clearer now.

“You don’t know that,” Bucky sighed with a tear falling from his eye.

“I know it,” Steve pulled himself away from Bucky angrily, and stood up out of bed.

“Why are you being like this?” Bucky said surprised at his behavior.

“We shouldn’t keep doing this, Bucky, it’s so bad for me,” Steve cried as he paced around the room.

“Steve, this is coming out of nowhere!” Bucky seemed angry—and he began to feel that guilt again.

“It’s bad for me, Buck—I’m already attached,” Steve sighed while he quickly threw on his clothes, layering up with the intention to go outside, “this doesn’t have a happy ending,” he continued.

“What are you doing? Are you seriously going to walk away?”

“I need to clear my head,” Steve walked out of the bedroom and went to put his boots on. He laced them up and was out the door, just like that.

Bucky sat there in the bedroom with his face in his hands reflecting on what just happened. He felt angry, sad, frustrated, guilty—it was overwhelming.

Steve continued down his neighborhood, kicking rocks with his hands in his pockets and face buried in his coat collar. He tries not to go outside much during the winter, but he found himself engulfed in the beauty of a Brooklyn morning with snowfall and sunshine. Two opposing forces happening in harmony.

He walked down to the corner café and got a decaf black coffee—hot. He sipped on his coffee and analyzed the room. It had to be a little after 7:00 a.m. on a weekday, given how busy it was. Honestly, Steve had lost track of time. Bucky always worked random days, usually everyday. It was on his own accord, he’d show up at the docks whenever. So, Steve didn’t have an honest grasp of time based on Bucky’s schedule.

He watched as men hurried inside in their suits and long coats, collecting their daily dose of caffeine before heading into work. He also watched as women walked by the windows, likely on their way to their own jobs with a little less dependency on a substance to get them through the day. Steve’s eyes trailed until he met someone he knew.

“Aye! Steve!” The friendly voice walked over to him and sat at his small table.

“Hey Robbie!” Steve said excitedly. It was good to see a friendly face.

“What brings you out of that damn house?” He said with a laugh. Robbie’s known Steve and Bucky for years—so he’s aware of Steve’s health.

“Just wanted a taste of fresh air—how’s it down at the docks?” Steve wanted to catch up.

“Ah yeah, same old. I’m sure James tells you enough about it—except last night, someone did drop a crate into the bay and turns out—it was a wine crate! Boss was SO mad. Hey, that’s why we tell ‘em don’t come floatin’ in at midnight cause we can’t see shit!” Robbie was very animated in his story telling. When he told a story, his arms told it too.

“No way!” Steve laughed, and it felt good.

“Surprised James left early, seem like he got better places to be lately. You seen him recent?”

“He came over after his shift and crashed on my couch, which seems like his favorite pastime lately. Don’t think he much likes it at home.”

“That’s right—damn, I wish my best friend would let me stay at his place. WAY better than my sisters with her two kids!” The two continued to go back and forth sharing recent stories between one another. It was good for Steve to immerse himself back into reality. He missed this.

Bucky had cleaned up Steve’s apartment and contemplated going down to the docks. He had been working daily for weeks straight to try and take his mind off of Steve and the problems that he created—but today, he decided he was giving himself a day off. Instead of working, he wanted to be lazy.

He put on Steve’s radio and listened to the news stations as they went on about the war overseas. There was a lot of tension and Bucky kept hearing more and more everyday at the docks about another friend of a friend who’d enlisted. Bucky didn’t believe in war—he didn’t want to fight in one. He didn’t believe in killing. He understood the innate desire to protect, but he felt it unethical when combining life vs death.

He sat on the couch and laid out a deck of cards to play solitaire.

An hour or two dragged on before Bucky finally heard the sound of a key in the door handle. He turned to see Steve come in with a brown paper bag in his hand, shaking off the snow that had fallen on his golden hair.

“Wheew!!” Steve exclaimed. “SO damn cold. I always forget what that feels like,” he laughed.

“You okay?” Bucky didn’t know how to act. Was he still angry? It didn’t seem like it…

“Saw Robbie at the café—he’s talking some notion of a gal he wants to marry—Dorothy, I think? He ever mention her to you?” Steve fumbled around as he removed his winter clothing and settled back into his moderately warm home.

“Hah, yeah—he’s mentioned her. That’s good you saw him, he always asks me about you,” Bucky was still treading lightly.

“It was good to get out. Robbie noticed some marks on my neck, had to remind him I bruise easy,” Steve laughed some as he avoided eye contact with Bucky.

“Wait—let me see,” Bucky stood up and walked over to Steve who was making sure his shoes and coat were neatly tucked at the door before walking away. Steve tensed up as Bucky approached, still avoiding eye contact.

“Let me see your neck,” Bucky placed his hands around Steve’s face looking down at him, and moved his head upwards til his eyes were fixed on the ceiling. Steve seemed reluctant but he didn’t pull away.

Bucky’s left hand traced down his neck as he saw the discoloration across his throat.

“God Steve—I mean it looks like someone choked you, and Robbie ain’t askin’ more questions?!” Bucky seemed genuinely surprised at the bruising and how widespread it was.

“I had my jacket collar up, he only saw some,” Steve said as he grabbed Bucky’s wrists gently and pulled them off of his face. Steve wandered into the kitchen to snack on some nuts.

“God…” Bucky continued to himself as he made his way back to the couch.

“What have you been up to anyway?”

“Well, I cleaned up the apartment and then I decided I needed a break from the docks. From everything. So, I put on the radio and listened to how humankind still won’t get along with one another while I played with the deck of cards,” Bucky rambled.

“Robbie told me that Ennis enlisted,”

“It’s someone else we know everyday, I tell ya’. ‘N Steve, it’s no joke. It’s getting pretty serious out there. They’re talking about a draft,”

“Don’t think about it too much, Buck,” Steve knew how Bucky felt about warfare and how his thoughts could eat him alive. Despite the weird energy in the room, he still made his attempts to calm him.

“Yeah yeah…I’ll try,”

“The new year is nearly here. Robbie had to remind me, hah,” Steve giggled at his rather nonexistent concept of time.

“Gonna be ‘43 in like a week, no?” Bucky clarified.

“Just about. Isn’t that crazy? God- I’ll be 23 come September. And you’ll be 24 in three months!” Steve kept having epiphanies.

“24 and no wife, god—my mother’s gonna have a lot to say,”

“Hah, maybe the war will get you first,” this was friendly banter.

“You’re so dark, Steve,” Bucky laughed with Steve. It felt good to have some normal banter—it had been a while.

The day continued on with banter and co-cooking in the kitchen. This felt like an old fashioned hang out where nothing mattered except that the two of them were laughing together. Bucky did leave for a bit to check in on his family home, his parents and sister, but returned just in time to eat the dinner he and Steve spent all day trying to make.

After their shared dinner, Steve was exhausted and fell asleep quickly in his bed. Bucky was soon after—though this time, like old times, pillows were laid between them. It was Steve’s idea—he had done it without even saying a word about it. It was an unspoken act.

That next morning, Bucky had gone out to the docks rather early. Steve slept in, as his immune system was working overtime from his early morning stroll yesterday. He needed more rest if he wanted to avoid that awful cough he usually gets plagued with every winter.

This day played out similar to yesterday. Bucky came home and had dinner, and then the two went to sleep with pillows in between. It happened again, like this, for another night. And then another…and another. It wasn’t until this sixth night where things played out…differently.

Chapter Text

It was New Years Eve in Brooklyn, NY. 1941 was closing its chapter and the streets were filled with people. Steve partook in people watching on his porch this evening, spoke with his neighbors and was happy to stay home alone until Bucky came later—who said he’d be drinking with some buddies after the docks.

It wasn’t until a little after 11:00 p.m., which was real late for Steve, that he finally heard Bucky stumble in through the front door.

“SSSSTTTTTTTTEEEEEEVVVVIIIIEEEE!!!!” Oh god…he was drunk. Steve walked out of his bedroom to see Bucky undressing his layers and stumbling in the process.

“Jesus- Buck! How was it?” Steve laughed at him.

“Sooo good, so so good. I wish you’d have been able to come, Stevie. I missed ya’ alllll night—the boys didn’t hear the end of it,” Bucky rambled with slurred speech.

“Oh, I’m sure,” Steve couldn’t help but feel a little awkward. He’d always been sober, observing others in their inebriated behavior. But Bucky? He’d hardly seen Bucky get drunk like this. Tipsy, sure. Drunk? Not really.

“Steeevieee,” Bucky sang in a sing-song voice as he wandered into the kitchen eating bits and pieces of food he’d find, “mmm, soo hungry,” he continued.

“Bucky, maybe we should get you to bed,” Steve suggested.

“Bedd?? Noo no, I’m not even tired yet!” Bucky wandered over to Steve after feeling satisfied in the kitchen.

“Let’s dance,” Bucky shuffled around with Steve’s arms as he maneuvered drunkenly around the living space with the illusion of a dance. Steve laughed a bit as he let Bucky move him around.

“I misssss touchin’ YOU, Stevie,” Bucky exclaimed as his hands sporadically trailed down his arms and touched his shoulders.

“God—Buck,” Steve clicked his tongue in discomfort as Bucky got increasingly touchy, “maybe you shouldn’t be touching me like this,” Steve bowed his head.

“Mmm, maybe I oughta’ remind you why I should be touchin’ you like this,” Bucky said as his hands trailed down to Steve’s waist, pulling him in for a slow dance. Steve’s body fell limp. He kept himself standing but couldn’t help but feel…helpless.

Bucky gave Steve a spin before he picked him up and walked him into the bedroom.

“You keep talkin’ up a storm about me gettin’ in bed so why don’t we get in bed?” Bucky said as he put Steve down standing near the end of the bed.

“Bucky, don’t get the wrong idea,” Steve hesitated.

“Steve, I miss you,” Bucky sighed as he leaned in for a desperate kiss. Bucky kissed Steve’s closed mouth in a hurried manner. Steve pushed Bucky off of him.

“Bucky! You know what I said!” Steve was panting.

“What if we forget about it for a night? How about that?” Bucky slurred as his arms trailed down Steve’s back, grabbing at his waist.

“Please, Bucky…I just need to go to bed,” Steve continued trying to push Bucky off of him—but Bucky wasn’t having it.

“Ya’ need to go to bed?” Bucky asked before he turned Steve around and pushed him—belly first—onto the bed, “now you’re in bed.”

“Bucky—,” Steve didn’t know what to do as Bucky dropped his pants and lined his fingers along Steve's waistband of his sleep pants. Bucky began to slide them off of him while Steve sighed and planted his head into the mattress.

Bucky wrapped his hands around Steve’s thighs and pulled him up until he was on his knees with his ass in the air. When Bucky saw the arch in Steve back, his mouth hung slightly open and his thirst began to build. Steve’s arms were laid out on each side of his head to support this new position and his head was turned to his left, viewing the moonlight coming in through his blinds.

“Mmm…Steve, baby—you look so good like this,” Steve lay there, reluctantly succumbing to Bucky’s seduction.

“I don’t know about this,” he tried.

“Mm, I do…I’ve been cravin’ it,” Bucky felt Steve’s ass with his hands, running his left hand over his asshole. Bucky leaned in and kissed his soft pink hole a couple times before letting his tongue slip through.

“W-woah—Bucky!” Steve’s body jolted at the feeling, but Bucky gripped him tighter and pulled him back into place as he continued to lick his asshole. Steve was helpless—it felt good. Bucky’s warm and wet tongue kept sliding into his asshole and out of it, pausing to kiss him in between—he could hear Steve moaning quietly—and it was making him really hard. He bit Steve’s left ass cheek hard and sat up right.

“I need you,” Bucky whispered as he got onto the bed himself. He nudged Steve’s ass to move him forward enough to give him more space at the end of the bed. Steve crawled forward anxiously.

“Goddd…yes,” Bucky panted as he laid his cock between Steve’s ass cheeks. He spit directly onto his cock and began moving it back and forth on Steve’s hairless crack. His spit made it slippery, he was gliding between his cheeks preparing himself to enter. The precum kept leaking out, creating more lubrication.

“You want me, Stevie?” Bucky was so seductive—his voice low and smooth.

“M-maybe we should think about th-this…,” Steve panted in his soft stifled moans. Bucky licked his lips.

“Trust me, baby…I’ve thought about this,” his voice turned into a whisper.

Bucky kept gliding over Steve’s asshole until he brought his tip to the entrance, and then he began to push himself in—slowly. He watched as Steve’s body innately fell forward until he couldn’t go anywhere with his upper body buried into the mattress as far as it could go. Bucky followed this motion and kept pushing himself in until his balls kissed Steve’s.

“Mnmeuhh,” Steve cried out like he was in pain. Bucky’s hips began moving anyway.

“You okay, baby?” Bucky slurred despite his compulsion to keep going. Steve was gripping the sheets and clenching his jaw until Bucky’s voice rang in his ears. It made him forget the pain and the pressure for a moment, and remember who he was with.

“Mm, y—yes,” Steve muttered in muffled discomfort. He couldn’t help but keep thinking about the circumstances. He had set a boundary, and Bucky broke it while intoxicated. He didn’t know how to read this situation, and quite honestly, he couldn’t think about it either.

Bucky’s cock was buried in his asshole—it’s like Steve forgets how it feels every time. There was this spot about more than halfway up his ass that made him feel like he was microdosing an orgasm every time Bucky’s cock rubbed past it. It made him forget everything—like he was in some daze. His mouth began to hang open as his moans escaped and his eyes went crossed.

“Mmm—fuckk…Stevie, baby, I’ve missed you…mmmnn,” Bucky rambled out loud while his hands kept tracing over Steve’s lower back, ass, and thighs. He’d tighten his grip right at the bend of his hips going into his legs. This helped Bucky get better control of how deep he penetrated Steve with each stroke—and he liked going deep every time.

“You’re takin’ it so well, baby,” Bucky slurred. Steve couldn’t even believe how flustered he felt. Bucky was never this talkative—he hardly liked to acknowledge the sex WHILE they were having sex. This? This was something else—Steve almost hated to think that it takes Bucky being drunk out of his mind to talk to him like this—but before that thought could eat him alive, “mmnn baby, you feel me pulsing in you?”

“Mm—hm, B-buck,” Steve could barely get a word out.

“Say you like it, baby,” Bucky said softly.

“I—I,” Steve attempted.

“Tell me you like it,” Bucky sounded more demanding this time.

“I like it,” Steve panted—he was met with a hard thrust.

“Good boy…you feel sosoooso fuckin’ good, baby—fuck,” Bucky slurred—it almost sounded like he was tearing up.

“F-faster,” Steve cried out. Bucky took this like it was his mission. He sped up and pulled Steve’s thighs back more, putting his hand on Steve’s lower back to fix the positioning. Bucky leaned downward so he was angled more toward the mattress. He was gonna cum like this.

“God…Stevie,” Bucky could see how Steve’s pink asshole stretched around the width of his cock—he was so tight. Bucky didn’t know how he was taking him all the way. Where did his cock even go? Steve’s body was so skinny, Bucky could see his bones where they lay.

“You impress me, baby,” Bucky kept thrusting fully into Steve and then back out again, “fuckkk,” he muttered.

“Mmh—ugh—auhh,” Steve moaned after every thrust into him.

“Baby…Stevie…I’m holdin’ myself back,” Bucky rambled, “‘cause I’m wantin’ this to last…”

“Keep g-going!” Steve pleaded. He wasn’t done yet either.

“Anything for you, baby,” Bucky continued pushing himself into Steve, gripping his ass to hold him in place. He went in and out….in and out. Bucky moaned under his breath, softly but Steve could hear him.

“Mmnn,” Bucky moaned, “I missed you baby,” he continued. Steve liked it, hearing him talk like this.

“Yeah?” Steve panted back.

“Yes, baby…I’ve been needin’ you—yous all I been thinkin’ ‘bout…,” he slowed his strokes while he spoke to him, but he didn’t stop. Bucky was glaring down at Steve’s perfect face, which was turned to his left side. His eyes were closed and his mouth hung slightly agape, letting the moans slip through.

“You’re soo deep…,” Steve’s voice shook. Bucky was looking at him while he said this, and he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“‘Mm gonna cum in you, baby,” Bucky panted, “you want me to cum in you?”

“Yes,” Steve panted.

“Yes what?” Bucky leaned forward and his hand trailed to the back of Steve’s neck and upper shoulder. He tightened his grip.

“Yes—Bucky!” Steve cried out. That spot was getting stimulated over and over again, it made Steve’s legs start shaking, like he was going to collapse as Bucky fucked him—and that’s exactly what happened. He fell forward onto his stomach into the bed, and Bucky followed, collapsing on top of him with his cock still buried in his ass. He kept fucking him into the mattress and Steve’s legs were still shaking.

Bucky had his arms laid beside Steve’s head to hold himself up as his hips pounded his ass.

“I’m cumming, baby—f-fuck, you feel that?” Bucky panted into Steve’s ear. His cum spilled out of him like someone had just unplugged a drain to a full bathtub. He pulled himself out and watched as the cum came out of Steve’s ass and continued to leak out of his dick, “My god…”

Steve turned over with an anxious look on his face. Bucky leaned back on his knees with his legs still spread as Steve’s legs were laying between him. The two stared at each other in tense silence as they caught their breaths.

“James,” Steve broke the silence.

“Steven,” Bucky squinted at Steve like he was bracing for what came next.

“You’re drunk,” Steve spoke quietly, “and you fucked me,” his voice was beginning to raise, “even when I told you that we can’t do this anymore,” rage filled his eyes.

“Stevie, I—,” he couldn’t get a word in before Steve sat all the way up and laid a slap across Bucky’s face. Hard. Bucky looked back at him like he had just struck a nerve—his eyes wide and his mouth agape.

He wasted no time before he lunged forward at Steve, grabbing his jaw and falling into the bed with him. Bucky was now on top of Steve pinning him to the bed with his hand still gripping Steve’s jaw.

“Steve,” Bucky said his name sternly.

“G-get off!” Steve struggled. The two wrestled but Bucky still kept his grip on Steve’s jaw.

“Steve,” he said again, “Steve…Steve, Steve,” he broke out crying as he repeated his name. Steve moved his right hand up to Bucky’s face and pushed him. Bucky used his right hand to grab his wrist and pin him to the bed again—he kept getting loose.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” Bucky panted, “don’t you fuckin…dare,” he repeated as tears swelled in his eyes.

“L-let go of me,” Steve started crying too, through his gritted teeth. His left hand was wrapped around Bucky’s wrist that was at his jaw.

“It’s not fuckin’ fair,” Bucky still continued crying, tightening his grip. His eyes were trailed off to the side of the pillow as he cried overtop Steve.

“Bucky!” Steve shouted into a cry.

“Steve…I,” Bucky’s eyes floated back over to Steve’s, and he stared at him for a moment before blinking slowly and leaning in to kiss him, despite the tears that still fell from his eyes. Bucky felt his lips fold over Steve’s top lip—he went in softly, shutting his eyes hard as it happened.

Steve started to kiss back, and his cries got heavier. He broke down as his lips connected with Bucky’s. He felt the warmth of Bucky’s lips, the stubble on his face. Their lips began parting and reconnecting, breaths of air and continuous repositioning on their lips. The realness of Bucky as a person existing right before him made him lose it.

He was real, and he couldn’t have him. So, he cried. He cried hard at their reality—the timing of everything couldn’t have been worse, and it felt like the end of the world for Steve. He kissed Bucky eagerly as his cries got louder with shaky breaths and more tears.

Bucky kept crying too, tears falling down onto Steve’s face—but neither of them stopped. Bucky realized how out of line he’d been, but what made him more emotional was how his body needed this. He was acting out of compulsion, and that felt good to him. He wanted to fuck Steve—it’s all he thought about all night. And the drunkenness just gave him an excuse, but he may have done it anyway—maybe a little nicer.

The kiss, though? The kiss was…not a compulsion. No, he weighed the pros and the cons of it as he stared into Steve’s eyes and then decided that he just wanted to kiss him—and that made him cry. Steve was a pure soul who only ever wanted to do good but was met with a limited set of abilities in this life and that hurt Bucky’s soul. He wanted to see Steve happy in life, he wanted to see him healthy—he wanted to see him love. But it was all impossible. Bucky didn’t know what this feeling was, but it consumed him. He wanted everything for Steve.

Their kiss continued as the two of them heard loud cheers and fireworks rumble outside. Bucky slowed the kisses enough to lift his head and whisper,

“Happy New Year,” he kissed Steve softly and slowly, continuing as he and Steve both calmed down from their emotional outbreak. Their tears blinked out and their breaths fell still.

Bucky put his palm to Steve’s chest to feel his heart rate had leveled out to a more normal pace, and then placed his hand on his own and felt the same thing. When he knew that they were both at peace, Bucky gave him a soft peck on the lips and then rolled off of him and laid on his side. He was looking at Steve, who had his head turned to his right as he lay on his back, looking at Bucky.

Bucky could see the moonlight reflecting in Steve’s eyes. At this moment, nothing mattered.

Chapter Text

They laid like this, staring for a moment—both naked and exposed, marinating in the soiled sheets.

“What are we going to do,” Bucky sounded defeated.

“Bucky…,” Steve sighed.

“Ain’t neither of us gonna be happy in this life,” Bucky reached over and put his palm on Steve’s cheek.

“You don’t know what you’re saying—you’re drunk,” Steve got scared at the tip of this conversation. What was Bucky implying? Sure, it’s no secret that they both like having sex with one another, but what about the other part? What about the feelings? Well…Steve didn’t know—seems like he was afraid to talk about it.

“Stevie…” Bucky replied, “I hope I remember this tomorrow…when I wake up,” he sighed. Bucky’s eyes closed—he couldn’t fight the alcohol anymore. Steve softly lifted Bucky’s hand off of his face, placing it onto the bed. He sat up and looked around, glaring down at his body.

He analyzed the marks on his hips and thighs—they looked like bruises. Steve stood up off of the bed and went to the bathroom, cleaning up his bum and relieving his bladder. He brushed his teeth and walked back into the room with a cloth.

He watched Bucky’s lungs inhale and exhale—exhaustion and alcohol really had him out like a light. Steve walked to the other side of the bed and began to carefully wipe down Bucky’s private area. He felt perverted, touching Bucky like that while he was asleep. He wondered if he’d wake up if he put it in his mouth. He shook his head roughly trying to push the thoughts away.

Steve put the cloth in his laundry basket and then threw a blanket over Bucky. He crawled back into the bed, avoiding the wet spot of Bucky’s spilled cum—and bundled up underneath the blankets until he felt warm. He was facing away from Bucky, otherwise he’d just keep staring at him thinking every possible thought. His eyes closed and fell asleep.

“Steve…,” Steve heard his name in his sleep, but it started sounding too real, “Steve…,” his left eye squinted open. Steve saw Bucky’s silhouette sat slightly upright looking at him with the moon illuminating behind him—it was still night time.

“God, Bucky? What time is it?” Steve groaned and rubbed his eyes.

“I think it’s 4:00?” Bucky whispered back.

“Why are you waking me?” Steve kept squinting at Bucky trying to adjust to the lighting.

“I woke up and took a leak, got back in bed, and I couldn’t stop lookin’ at you…you’re beautiful, you know that?” Bucky kept his voice low. Steve was stunned.

“Bucky…,” he didn’t know what to say.

“I just wanted to talk to you, it’s all I was thinkin’ of layin’ here looking at you. I like hearin’ you talk…Stevie,” Bucky continued.

“Are you still drunk?” Steve sat more upright, resting on his forearm.

“Not likely, I’d have called you ‘baby’ already,” Bucky gave a soft giggle to himself.

“Oh, so you remember?”

“Yes, baby…I remember,” Bucky giggled again. 4:00 a.m. was channeling some other kind of energy.

“It’s cold in here,” Steve changed the subject.

“It looks like we got some snowfall, heat is workin’ overtime. Let me hold you, I’ll keep you warm,” Bucky smiled—he meant it.

“Bucky…the last time you held me like that, I kind of lost my mind,” Steve hesitated.

“So, don’t lose it this time,”

“Yeah, right,” Steve laughed at his own expense.

“I mean it, Steve—it’s just us here. No one’s here to judge you or hurt you, I’m your best friend. Let me keep you warm, I’d do it regardless,” Bucky tried to be comforting.

“Okay…,” Steve pulled himself closer to Bucky, “how do you want me?” His big eyes looked up at Bucky’s.

“Right here,” he rolled onto his back and opened up his left arm, gesturing towards his chest, “on my chest,”—Steve took a gulp and laid his head on Bucky’s warm chest. He reached his left arm across Bucky’s body and laid it there.

“Wow,” Steve whispered. Bucky put his left arm back down onto Steve, pulling the blanket up higher and then placing his hand onto Steve’s left shoulder.

Steve felt the texture of Bucky’s skin on his chest, clean shaven and smooth.

“Why do you shave your chest, Buck?” Steve struggled to grow hair in places that weren’t his head given his genetic makeup and inherent illnesses, so he was curious.

“Honestly, Stevie—I never did til I touched your smooth body the first time. I liked how it felt, wanted to try it on me,” Bucky spoke with his eyes closed, moving his hand up to caress Steve’s head—massaging his scalp. Steve’s eyes immediately fell closed at the stimulation, but he kept moving his finger around on Bucky’s chest.

Steve was tracing his muscles, the abs that poked through.

“Your body feels unreal,” Steve said quietly.

“So does yours,” Bucky said with a grin.

“I mean your abs,” Steve giggled.

“Mhm, ‘n they’re all yours baby. Ain’t nobody else seein’ my body like this,” Bucky sounded confident.

“I wish I had a body like yours,” Steve sounded disappointed.

“Steve, your body is beautiful—it houses the very person I care about most in this world. Never forget that, you’re alive because of those skin and bones,” Bucky moved his hand back to Steve’s shoulder and squeezed him tight.

“Mhm…thank you, Buck—still, maybe one day I’ll have a body like yours,” Steve giggled again.

“Yeah? I’d like to see that,” Bucky enticed the idea, “but I’d like you however you come,” he rebutted.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“What if someone saw us like this,” Steve was in his thoughts again.

“Like what?” Bucky avoided the question.

“Like…this—like, intimately…,” Steve flattened his palm on Bucky’s chest and gently groped at his right peck.

“I’d rather not find out,” Bucky sighed as he traced his hand down Steve’s shoulder and upper arm, lightly touching his skin. It gave Steve chills.

“Mm,” Steve said in agreement.

“Steve?” Bucky sounded flat.

“Yeah?”

“I think, one day, this will be the death of me,” Bucky sighed as his eyes fixated into the dark abyss in front of him—his face fell still. Steve readjusted himself until he held himself up enough to see Bucky’s face.

“Why can’t you stay happy for more than 5 minutes at a time,” Steve sounded annoyed, “I mean, we’ll be having some kind of moment, and then you fall back into this horrible—dark state of mind and suddenly I feel like the elephant in the room that you can’t even look at,” Steve’s voice didn’t shake once. Bucky’s eyes trailed onto Steve’s.

“Steve—I’ll never stop looking at you,” his gaze felt soft, like he was defeated at Steve’s words but wouldn’t defend himself, “it’s not you that’s got me like this,” he sighed.

“I just wish you’d see the bigger picture,” Steve still remained looking at Bucky.

“The bigger picture is an impossible one,” Bucky sounded angry but kept his voice calm.

“Okay, if that’s too much for you then just look at the picture right now, at this moment,” Steve sighed. He was desperate for some kind of validation from Bucky.

“All I see is you,” Bucky put his hands around Steve’s face, framing him and holding him close.

“Isn’t that enough?” Steve sounded like he could cry. Bucky leaned in and kissed his lips, softly. He held their faces together for a long embrace before pulling apart and turning Steve on his side.

Bucky didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what he was thinking either, but a kiss? That felt…natural. He wasn’t sure how he meant it, I mean, kissing was a common occurrence between these two now. But all of this emotional tension? Bucky wasn’t sure why a kiss felt the most comfortable—if anything, it made the least sense. But he didn’t understand this part himself, anyway—and all of this worrying and questioning never got him anywhere but further down the rabbit hole that he believed he never dug.

Bucky wrapped himself up behind Steve as they laid down together, spooning. Bucky pulled Steve in real close, placing his right arm over his body and locking himself in by placing his hand around Steve’s neck, gently.

“I want to be held like this every night for the rest of my life,” Steve sighed as he succumbed to the warmth of Bucky’s body so perfectly wrapped behind him. Bucky didn’t say anything, but Steve felt him squeeze gently at his throat.

Finally, they fell back asleep.

Chapter Text

Steve woke to the sound of birds and Bucky moving behind him—he turned around and rubbed his eyes, taking a look at the clock hands that ticked over his door.

“It’s 9:30 and you’re not at the docks yet?” Steve groaned while he stretched.

“It was hard to get out of bed this morning,” Bucky giggled as he sat on the side of the bed, putting his socks on.

“I had this horrible dream, Bucky,” Steve’s dream hit him like a truck, and he felt the need to say something before it slipped away, as dreams do.

“Yeah? Go on then,” Bucky was curious.

“It was like…we woke up in a different lifetime? I don’t know how to explain the context, I don’t even think I understand it, but it was more so about the feeling of it. Like it felt so daunting, so horrible, like everything was twisted. When I woke up and turned around to see you as you are right now, god, I was just so relieved,” Steve rambled, and his voice shook with anxiety as he got into the story.

“Sounds like some bad juju, Stevie. Hope that doesn’t find its way to us,” Bucky buckled his belt and layered his linens, preparing for his day.

“Yeah. You better be careful down there today,” Steve always worried.

“Should be a slow one anyway, psshh, I’ll probably be the only one there. Guys unloadin’ their own ships, I’m sure,” Bucky giggled. He glanced over at Steve and smiled, “I’ll see ya when I’m home, but I’ll be stopping by my folks first,” his smile was warm.

“Yeah okay, Buck. Don’t be too long now, you know I’ll come looking for you,” Steve smiled back—the two held their gaze for a moment too long before Bucky finally looked away, walking out of the door and heading to work.

Steve went about his own business. He cleaned, like usual, he read the paper, he watched the snow fall, and he was bored. So, so bored. Today was a beautiful day, he figured he oughta go take a walk, maybe go to the cinema. And that’s exactly what he did.

Steve found his way into a theater, a nickel and a dime for some popcorn and a seat. He made sure to bundle up real well, this Brooklyn weather was no joke. He’d sat down in a row near the back, analyzing the half full room. Dates, small get togethers, loners—everyone was there. New Year’s Day consisted of people calling off work with hangovers and people finding ways to kill time—start the year off good.

During the film, Steve found it within himself to shush up a couple of bigger guys in the row in front of him. If he could hear their voices back here, he couldn’t imagine how their voices carried to those in front. Steve didn’t like these kinds of people, disrespectful bullies. They turned around and mocked him, shushing him too, and laughing while they did it.

Steve felt annoyed, and walked out of the theater. He couldn’t enjoy the film, so he best removed himself from the situation. As he wandered in the hall of the cinema, he noticed the two guys had walked out behind him. Steve was paranoid—he’s been in fights before. He kept his head down, trying to seem as though he hadn’t noticed their presence.

The two guys took it upon themselves to hurry up behind him, shoulder checking him into the men’s bathroom. Steve stumbled as he caught himself from falling on the floor.

“Really? Because I asked you to keep your voices down?” Steve fixed his jacket as he angled himself up towards these two men.

“We don’t take orders from men like you,” they snarled.

“Oh yeah? And what’s men like me?” Steve’s fists balled.

“The ones who look like pretty little girls,” they giggled and nudged each other, clearly impressed with themselves.

“Come on, calling me pretty just makes you sound like the lesser man,” Steve hit them where it hurt. Implying any kind of gayness was the quickest way to piss a man off, in this time.

“Oh boy, will you be regrettin’ that one,” the taller one said as he closed in on Steve, raising his fist. He brought it down swinging, and Steve fell over immediately from the impact. The two men began kicking him where he lay, giggling and talking down to him as it happened.

“Fuckin’ faggot, pretty boy. You probably like taking it up the ass,” one of the many lines Steve’s heard before, but not since he really did start taking it up the ass. It almost made him laugh, but the kicks snapped him back to reality as his ribs felt each strike from the snow boots. They finally stopped, preparing to walk off and leave him there before they heard some shuffling behind them.

“I can do this all day,” Steve panted with his fists in the air. Before the two had time to react, the door swung open with an employee standing there.

“We’ll need you guys to clear the room—you two? OUT,” his voice was stern, an older man who directed the instigators out of the building, leaving Steve alone in the bathroom. Steve had a minute to let the pain sink in. His body was already bruised from things he’d let Bucky do to him—or rather, Bucky took upon to do himself. But this? This was going to be something else.

Bucky was always super protective of Steve when it came to these bullies. He knew Steve had the will to stop them, but not the strength. So, he’d usually come back beat up. Steve was worried how quickly Bucky would notice this—he could already feel how painful it was to move his body to the side. Steve started on his way home, bundled up with a scarf wrapped all around his face.

Spilling into his home, the snow quickly began falling off of his boots. He stomped his shoes and tore his clothes off until he reached the bathroom, immediately washing his body. With all those layers he had on for the weather, it really stopped his skin from tearing. No open wounds. He reached up to his cheek, where the original punch had collided.

“Ah! Owee,” he groaned to himself. After he felt satisfied with his cleanliness, he analyzed himself in the mirror. His cheek was turning purple, and his ribs looked all kinds of discolored like some abstract painting. He looked closer, at his neck and upper arms, tracing the marks that Bucky had left on him.

He hated looking at these marks that weren’t left from Bucky. It felt…impure. Like he had soiled his body for Bucky. He felt ashamed. Before he knew it, he’d crawled back into bed with his boxers and a t- shirt on, to cover the damage. His eyes closed like he’d been waiting for this moment of recovery.

—

“Stevie?” Steve could feel a hand running through his hair, and his eyes slowly blinked open, “hey, Stevie, I’m home now and I brought a little bit of chicken pot pie for you to eat, we had at my folks. I have it in the fridge, you want any?” Bucky’s ocean eyes were so full of life, and Steve found himself mesmerized.

“I’m not hungry, Buck…but thank you,” Steve glanced at the clock, it was already 8:00 p.m.

“Of course,” he smiled.

“You already shower?” Steve asked as he observed Bucky’s damp hair and clean skin.

“Yes, and somehow I didn’t wake you,” Bucky giggled.

“Must’ve needed the sleep,” Steve gave a half smile, knowing full well he needed it.

“You never wear shirts to sleep, let me get you out of this one,” Bucky said as his hand slid under the white shirt, intentionally going slowly and caressing Steve’s skin.

“Mm, no, Buck. Keep it on,” Steve reacted like he had something to hide, pushing Bucky’s hand away. Bucky’s eyes immediately darted to Steve’s who was avoiding eye contact.

“What is it?” Bucky’s voice sounded demanding, and afraid.

“Buck, just forget about it,” Steve tried.

“Did someone hurt you?” Bucky’s been through this before.

“Buck…,” Steve sighed in defeat, “yes, but please don’t get mad,” his eyes started tearing up.

“Steve—,” Bucky seemed angry, and began shifting like he was ready to go find the person who hurt Steve.

“Bucky, just stay here with me. I don’t want to be alone,” Steve wrapped his hand around Bucky’s wrist, who was sitting on the side of the bed next to where Steve laid. Steve meant this, he didn’t want to be alone—he wanted Bucky with him. He also said this because he needed to tame Bucky and his urge to hurt some guys who hurt his Stevie.

“Okay…yeah, okay…,” Bucky collected himself, “let me assess the damage,” he stated as his hands went back to lift Steve’s shirt off, and Steve let him. Steve cried softly at the revelation—his skin was black and blue all over his right ribs. Bucky placed his hands on Steve’s body gently, tracing the bruising, “I hate that this isn’t a mark I made,” his voice droned.

Steve felt shivers run down his spine when Bucky said that. He’d thought about it earlier, despite never having discussed the marks as an important thing in their weird relationship—so it was oddly comforting to Steve that Bucky had thought the same thing.

“I hate it too, I’m sorry,” Steve’s eyes swelled.

“Don’t be, you didn’t do this,” Bucky pushed lightly on one of the bruises, watching Steve wince in pain.

“Ah! What did you do that for?” Steve looked up at Bucky.

“Just wanted to hear you whimper,” Bucky began giggling to himself.

“You- you make me- ugh,” Steve stuttered as his face flushed, hiding it in his palms. Bucky smiled and repositioned himself over top of Steve, where his head floated above his ribs. Bucky leaned in and kissed his bruised skin softly.

“I’ll make it better, baby,” Bucky whispered into Steve with a breath of space between his wet lips and Steve’s soft, sensitive skin. Steve tensed up as each kiss was planted onto his bruises. He could feel bursts of pain, and moments of sensibility trickling out of Bucky’s lips.

Bucky kept kissing his bruised skin, slowly making his way downwards—his lips began kissing the brim of Steve’s boxers—and they kept going…until his lips were planted on Steve’s soft dick. Bucky began to kiss him through his boxers. Each kiss made him harder, his precum seeping through the fabric, and Bucky’s spit dampening the cloth simultaneously.

“Let’s get these off,” Bucky whispered up towards Steve as his claws gripped the waistband, sliding them completely off of Steve. He wanted to take control of Steve in his pained vulnerability. Steve watched as Bucky planted his lips onto his bare skin surrounding his dick.

“Stevie - you’re so - soft,” Bucky said in between kisses to his skin. His lips trailed over to his balls, Bucky lifting his cock back to expose the pink flesh. He began to kiss him there, letting his tongue slip through. As he’d lift his head away, lines of spit would follow—his saliva was building. He licked the saliva all the way up to Steve’s tip.

“Oh…my god!” Steve nearly cried—he hadn’t ever been touched like this here before. It made him squirm and twitch as Bucky’s tongue reached the tip and closed his mouth on top of Steve without a second thought. Bucky liked this—Steve losing his mind. His head began bobbing up and down as Steve acclimated to the sensitivity of it all. He threw his head back onto the pillow and gripped the sheets, knuckles turning white.

“Gg-guh,” Bucky was gagging on Steve’s cock, and Steve couldn’t believe it. Bucky deliberately put himself in this situation, taking his cock into the back of his throat—Steve didn’t even beg him. He could not believe it! He lifted his head, staring at Bucky wide-eyed, mouth agape. His breaths were heavy, watching Bucky take him all the way in and out of his throat.

“B-bucky…I-,” Steve’s brows were furrowed and his legs were tense. Bucky could feel his muscles gaining tension as his hands were gripping his thighs. Bucky knew he was already going to cum, and he wanted him to. He wanted to put his mouth somewhere else, and he was eager.

Steve began cumming, his body convulsing into Bucky’s mouth. He watched as Bucky gripped onto him tighter at his hips, locking him in place as he emptied his load down his throat. Steve’s body stopped twitching and calmed down in a matter of a minute, and that’s when Bucky let his cock fall from his mouth.

Looking up towards Steve, Bucky gave a soft smile with his lips parted.

“That’s my good boy,” he kissed Steve’s softening cock a few times, delicately. The spit carried itself between kisses. Steve felt shivers run up his spine whenever Bucky called him names like that. Baby, good boy? It made him…horny. He liked it, it reinforced their dynamic together. Bucky had an aggressive attitude, a more dominant aura. Steve was a small, sick boy, and he liked it when Bucky reminded him of that—even though it was his burden in this world.

“I like it…when you call me that,” Steve admitted.

“I can tell,” Bucky giggled.

“I’ve never had someone’s mouth on me there before,” Steve added.

“I know,” Bucky kissed around Steve’s groin, his hips and slight inner thighs as he spoke between, “and you’ll never have anyone else’s mouth there,” Bucky nipped at Steve’s skin.

“Mmm,” Steve groaned.

“I want you to turn around,” Bucky spoke softly, gaze meeting Steve’s eyes as he still hovered over his soft cock.

“Bucky, I don’t know if I can take it tonight,” Steve’s breath got shorter, like he was going to panic.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” Bucky said abruptly.

“What are you going to do,” Steve was nervous.

“I’ve put your tight asshole through so much, I want to say sorry,” Bucky smirked and bit his bottom lip as a chuckle slipped through.

“You’ve put my whole body through so much,” Steve laughed. Bucky joined him, and started turning him over in the process. Steve braced himself. Bucky had kissed him there before, but it was brief. This time? It’s all Bucky wanted to do. That was the purpose—the focus.

Bucky began to spread apart Steve’s cheeks, analyzing his asshole.

“It amazes me that I can bury my whole cock in here, Stevie,” Bucky noted.

“I can’t imagine the view,” Steve replied with his head turned towards the window, planted into the mattress.

“Your asshole is so tight. Your skin is so pink, so pretty. I love seeing you stretched out around my cock…fuck…I’m getting ahead of myself,” Bucky didn’t even realize he’d been saying this outloud. He ran his thumb over Steve’s hole and watched his body twitch, tensing up at the sudden touch.

Bucky leaned down and began kissing around Steve’s hole, softly. He finally kissed Steve’s hole, and he kept repeating this kiss for a long moment. It was slow, and intimate—until his lips parted. He began to introduce his tongue, letting it get familiar with the taste of Steve’s sensitive skin there. He heard Steve’s soft moans and could feel his body adjusting further into the mattress, tensing up as each lick ensued.

Bucky kept licking him and kissing him, feeling him squirm through it all. He did this for a while until Steve’s legs were shaking from the sensation. Steve could feel the tingling sensation so deep in his asshole, as if it was connected to that spot he’d feel Bucky’s cock run up against. It had to be connected, because ohh.. oh- ouhHH!—

“OH MY GODDD!!!” Steve cried out as his legs shook with adrenaline and pleasure. Bucky kept his mouth glued onto Steve’s asshole, helping him get through it. He pulled back a little, receptive to the uptake in sensitivity Steve was inevitably experiencing, but he kept licking him, slowing down the pace until he began to feel Steve’s body relax. Bucky pulled himself off of Steve, standing up at the foot of the bed and looking at Steve sprawled out on the mattress—naked and vulnerable.

“You feelin’ any better?” Bucky giggled.

“I feel…so…much better,” Steve sounded muffled with a breathy voice.

“I want to fuck you,” Bucky admitted.

“Buck…,”

“I want to fuck you hard,” he added.

“Bucky, I can’t take it,” Steve groaned in a way that highlighted his pained body.

“I want to do it anyway,” Bucky said with his hands on his head, grabbing at his hair like he was out of control for saying that.

“Bucky, please,” Steve pleaded, turning around and facing Bucky, who was just staring down at him from the foot of the bed, looking like he was fighting demons.

“I won’t…I…I just…need to—,” Bucky nearly slapped his own face, like he could punch away the thoughts.

“Are you holding back because I’m asking you to or because you feel guilty for wanting it in the first place,” Steve asked and it felt like he had strung a knife above his head and gave Bucky the string that was holding it from falling into his skull.

“I…don’t want to answer that,” Bucky began pacing around the room, “I’m so fucking…I’m just so confused. At everything—,” it sounded like he was spiraling.

“Bucky, maybe you should just come lay down,” Steve suggested, trying to find a solution to Bucky’s growing nerves.

“Steve, if I get close to you, I’m goin’ to have to fuck you,” Bucky spoke bluntly as his eyes locked onto Steve’s.

“I…,” Steve didn’t know how to respond.

“Do you want me to? To fuck you? Because I want to, Stevie…I need to. My body’s cravin’ for it, and I can’t stop my mind thinkin’ it. Those bruises? They ain’t mine, and I hate lookin’ at them. They make me angry, so angry like I wasn’t the last one that touched you so harshly. It should’ve been me, who left you hurtin’ like that. Bruises all over your ribs, fuckin’ up your pretty skin. I hate that it wasn’t, and I’m not blamin’ you. I’m blamin’ myself, I shouldn’t leave you alone. I should’ve been there, fucked them up myself, Stevie,” Bucky was getting riled up, and Steve couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“You’re…kind of scarin’ me, Bucky,” Steve sat there, analyzing Bucky losing his mind.

“Is that crazy to say? It almost makes me jealous, Stevie. Lookin’ at your bruised body. It’s tellin’ a story that I’m not part of. It makes me angry, and I wanna fuck you for it. I wanna fuck you into the floor—I wanna fuck you bloody. I want you screamin’ my name, screamin’ for more. I want tears rollin’ out your pretty fuckin’ eyes, as I pound into your pretty asshole. I want my nails gripping into your pretty blond hair,” he kept going, and his pace was picking up as he walked back and forth at the foot of the bed, fidgeting his hands through his hair and over his face, like he couldn’t believe the words himself as they fell out of his lips.

“Bucky…watching you talk like this, it—it’s scaring me, ‘cause I know I can’t really do anything about it, if you decided to do that to me. I can’t fight you off, I can’t fight anyone off. You overpower me without trying, and now you’re talking up a storm about how you want to do that to me, and you believe I’ll be into it. It’s like you’re begging me for it, for a hard fuck where I let you rearrange my insides…fuck, where I want you to,” Steve couldn’t help but picture it himself, Bucky was getting so descriptive. It was kind of…turning him on. He didn’t know what that said about him, watching Bucky’s guilt manifest into aggression, and him wanting to aggressively handle Steve because of it. Steve thought that maybe it’s just the feeling of being wanted. Maybe that’s why he was…considering it.

“Is that what you want, Stevie? For me to rearrange your insides, baby? ‘Cause I fuckin’ need it…Stevie, I don’t know what to do with my hands. I’m fuckin’ beggin’ you for it, baby, I’m beggin’, let me fuck your ass. Let me fuck you hard, let me leave my mark,” Bucky stopped pacing and walked to the side of the bed where he gripped Steve’s hair in his hand tightly, pulling his head back where his eyes met Bucky’s, who was staring intently into his glossy eyes.

“Let me fuck you,” he reiterated, “please, baby…let me fuck you,” Bucky was begging. Steve felt butterflies in his stomach. He felt nervous jumps as if his stomach dropped, everytime Bucky said something about fucking him. That word…it was just so dirty. Something about it made Steve get hard. Each time Bucky said it, he got a little harder. Steve’s breaths grew shorter while Bucky stared into his eyes with a stifled expression, gritting his teeth like he was holding everything in. Before Steve knew it, his voice croaked…

“Please…fuck me.”

Chapter Text

Steve didn’t even realize what he’d said until he said it. Hearing Bucky beg like that did something to him. Bucky wanted him that bad? So bad he was shamelessly begging? Steve was honestly enthralled. The way Bucky was standing there fighting with the idea of intimacy but knowing so badly he wanted it…Steve just—well, he couldn’t help himself.

When the words rolled off of his tongue, Bucky didn’t waste any time. He let his pants fall to his ankles while staring at Steve with desperation. He removed his t-shirt and then he began his descent onto the bed, crawling over top of Steve who was sitting up originally. As Bucky crawled onto him, Steve slowly sank back into the bed, laying onto his back.

“Stevie…,” Bucky said breathlessly, “thank you, baby…thank you,” he pleaded to Steve with his face close to his. Bucky’s eyes were glossy, like he was tearing up. As each short breath ensued, so did Bucky’s second descent—where his lips fell onto Steve’s. Steve was taken by surprise. Based on Bucky’s behavior earlier, he expected Bucky wasn’t going to take his time with him. He thought it’d be more like the first time, the aggressive fuck from behind. But—no…Bucky was kissing him, even after all he’s done already tonight.

Steve kissed back, and he could feel himself beginning to cry. He couldn’t help but be emotional lately. These exchanges—the sex, it was all so complicated. What did it mean? When will it stop? How will it end? Does having sex avoid the bigger question? What is this? What are we? These dreadful questions came so naturally, it hurt him even amidst the most pleasurable moments, like right now.

Bucky softly ran his hands through Steve’s hair and around his face before softly sliding his hand over Steve’s chest. His hand kept moving until he’d gripped onto Steve’s bruised ribs gently. Steve winced.

“What are you doing!?” He panicked.

“Turn onto your side,” Bucky demanded as he began to pull Steve’s body so that he was laying on his left, where his ribs weren’t as bruised. Steve followed this lead and watched as Bucky situated himself right next to Steve—he was spooning him. He put his right arm above Steve’s head on the pillow, keeping his own head up where he could look down at part of Steve’s pretty face.

His left arm was already jerking himself off, pushing out any precum onto Steve’s asshole. Bucky couldn’t wait any longer. He was kissing around Steve’s ear and side of his face before he whispered…

“Do you want me, baby?” Steve felt a surge of nervousness in his stomach from this, like there was a jar of butterflies and it was kicked over. When Bucky talked like this…he just kind of lost himself. It was so hypnotic, the smoothness of his voice, the breathlessness…fuck…Steve was already moaning.

“Mmnnn…yes, I want you,” his eyes were half open, staring back at Bucky.

“I’m putting it in,” he began to slide himself into Steve, watching his face as he did so. Steve closed his eyes as a reflex while his mouth began to hang open, groans escaping. Bucky just watched as Steve took each inch until he’d gone all the way in. As soon as his bush met Steve’s smooth skin, he watched Steve’s eyes relax a little, like he’d finished the hard part. Steve’s eyes closed and his head lay from lifted to comfortably resting on the pillow. His hips began to roll, making a home around Bucky’s cock that was sitting inside of him, throbbing.

Bucky began to move his hips slowly, getting a feel for how badly Steve’s bruises were hurting him. Based on the position, he’d hoped it wasn’t going to be a problem because he really wanted to fuck Steve—hard. He didn’t want to have to worry about anything else. He just needed Steve in that way.

“Is it okay, Stevie?” Bucky said with breaths of space between his words as he began thrusting faster into Steve. At this point, he had moved his left arm onto Steve’s hip to better hold him in place while he fucked him.

“K-keep going,” Steve moaned with approval. Bucky took this and ran with it. He started going faster, his grip on Steve’s waist tightening. His nails were digging into his body as he rocked back and forth, listening to Steve softly cry out.

“You feel so good, baby,” Bucky whispered into Steve’s ear, kissing his neck and surrounding skin while he continued to whisper sweet nothings, “so soft—so pretty—you’re doing so good.”

Steve loved the praise. It made it feel so personal, and that helped him manage the pain. Bucky felt good, in his asshole like that. Again, it was that one spot that made him lose his mind, like he was being lobotomized. It made him forget everything, the bruises and all—until Bucky reminded him.

Bucky moved his hand from Steve’s waist up to his ribs, placing his hand across the bruises. As a shell-shock reaction, Steve cried out and threw his elbow back, hitting Bucky’s chest.

“BUCKY!” His voice rang out, “what are you doing?!” Bucky stopped his thrusts as he and Steve locked eyes. Steve nearly broke his neck with how fast he darted up, looking behind his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did that,” Bucky said with a horrified look on his face, like he thought he’d ruined the night.

Bucky was lying. He knew why he did that. He wanted to hurt Steve—it’s what he does. It’s how he copes. He likes inflicting pain on him. It resembles his own. The sex was so pleasurable, he felt guilty for it. Introducing pain when they did it the first time was something that helped Bucky get through it. He’d get these urges to hurt Steve, but not because he believed Steve deserved it or anything—he was just so fucking full of guilt. Like—how can something so wrong feel SO good? The guilt wouldn’t subside at all, and it’d get to the point where the pain was so intense in Bucky’s head that it’d manifest in his actions—which is why he’d be so aggressive, or intentionally hurt Steve. But sometimes, it’d happen before he could even process it.

The two stared at each other for a moment of heavy breathing and no movement—until it started again. Bucky began moving slowly, while they still kept their eyes locked. Bucky was waiting for some kind of gesture that showed him approval to go fast again. As soon as Steve lost that serious look on his face and his eyes rolled back into his head with his head hanging closer to the pillow, Bucky latched himself aggressively back onto Steve’s body.

He fucked him, faster and faster, but not hard enough. He couldn’t go that hard with this angle. He had his left arm gripping Steve’s left bicep this time, which helped him gain better control of pulling himself into Steve. Bucky wanted more, though. He always wants more. He wanted to be buried as far as he could in Steve’s ass. He wanted his balls to hang lower than his dick. He wanted it all.

Bucky kept fucking him while he pushed Steve’s left shoulder forward and down into the bed where he could fall onto his chest. Along with this maneuver, Bucky rolled his hips with Steve’s ass until they rested atop the mattress. Bucky was now above Steve as they both lay stomach down. Steve braced himself.

“Bucky!” Steve whimpered in anticipation. Bucky smirked while his lips were parted—he was breathing so hard. Drops of sweat beaded down his face and his eyes fixated on the back of Steve’s head—his pretty blond hair. He REALLY liked this angle—the complete and utter control he had was just so fucking perfect. So perfect—it hurt. That pain…

Bucky began relentlessly pounding into him, lifting his hips and clapping down hard. The rest of his body was hugging Steve tightly, arms wrapped around his upper body and neck, his chest complimenting the arch in Steve’s back. Steve was propped up on his forearms, keeping himself off of his ribs as best he could.

“Talk to me,” Bucky panted with his head just behind Steve’s, closing in on his ear.

“Can’t—think!” Steve cried out while Bucky railed him.

“You feel me?” Bucky prompted him.

“YES!” He moaned loudly.

“You want it harder, baby?” Bucky moaned in a sultry voice right into Steve’s ear. It sent shivers down his spine, all the way to his legs—which began shaking.

“Y-YES!” Steve felt tears fall from his eyes as he blinked hard with each thrust. He was…crying?!

“Fuck…that’s my Stevie, take it like a good boy—fuck…you’re so pretty like this,” Bucky moaned—and he could feel the shake in Steve’s legs. He remounted himself to gain the best control and continued to fuck him, really hard. Steve’s legs were still shaking.

“That just feels so fuckin’ good for you, right baby?”

“MMN UGHH, FUCK!” Steve was outright yelling.

“Yeah? You fuckin’ like that?” Bucky kept talking, and it was driving Steve crazy.

“YES!”

“You’re so warm,” Bucky moaned, “you fit me like a fuckin’ glove,” and he was right. Steve felt like his asshole was MADE for Bucky’s cock. He swallowed him whole every time since the beginning.

“I—I’m-, I’m c—cum—CUMMING!” Steve yelled as he let his body release, arms sprawling out and head falling into the bed. Bucky let his body fall down with Steve’s, kissing his neck and side of his face as it happened. He was fucking him through his orgasm. Bucky kept kissing his face while he felt his own hot cum shooting out of him—which took him by surprise. He slowed his thrusts as his body convulsed into Steve’s, emptying his load.

The two laid there for a moment, catching their breaths. Bucky softly kissed the skin on Steve’s back and neck. In a few brief motions, he pulled his softening cock out of Steve’s body. The two both sighed as it happened. Steve’s hole felt like a gaping mess—the feeling of the air hitting the inside walls of his asshole was never something he got used to. It always made him want Bucky to plug him right back up again—but he had to be realistic. Bucky couldn’t stay there forever.

Bucky remained hovering above Steve, kissing his skin.

“Thank you…thank you…thank you, mmmn—Stevie,” he muttered in between kisses. Steve felt the butterflies, they wouldn’t go away. He slowly turned over while Bucky still continued to kiss him. When he stopped on his back, Bucky was staring down at him with glossy eyes and a soft expression. He leaned down and kissed Steve’s lips, softly. It was just a peck, but he’d lift his head and peck him again, and again…and again.

“Bucky,” Steve whispered between a kiss.

“Steve,” Bucky whispered back.

“I think…,” Steve hesitated, and the kissing didn’t stop.

“Mhm?”

“I…like you,” Steve wished he could say what he meant—but he couldn’t. It was too big a risk, and he didn’t want to take it.

“You’re my…best…friend,” Bucky replied between kisses.

“Do…best friends…kiss each other?” Steve said breathlessly.

“Mmnn…we do…,” the kisses continued.

“Do…best…friends—touch…each other?”

“We…do…mm,” Bucky did not stop kissing his soft pink lips, despite his continued attempts to keep talking.

“Do best…friends…have sex…with each…other?”

“We do…,” Bucky whispered before he planted another kiss on Steve’s lips.

“Will…you…hold me?” Steve pleaded softly, and Bucky gave him one final kiss, holding it a little longer before lifting his head.

“Of course, Stevie,” he smiled and kissed his forehead. Bucky started to get off of Steve, grabbing a cloth to clean the two of them up. When he was satisfied, he crawled into bed next to Steve, making sure not to harm his body. He cuddled behind Steve, spooning him as they both settled into each other’s warmth.

Steve loved this side of Bucky, where he was warm and full of love. These were the moments he lived for, after the sex. He loved the sex, it was intimate in a way where he expects no one else in this world will share that experience with him besides Bucky—but this? The cuddling, the sleeping. It was just so comforting. Like he was the safest he’ll ever be. And for Bucky to be okay with it and not spiraling in his own mind—it was a miracle, every time.

“I want this forever,” Steve sighed, knowing Bucky will likely remain quiet. But he just needed to say it, anyway.

“I know,” Bucky replied, planting a kiss onto the back of Steve’s head. He squeezed him a little tighter and that was it, before they’d both succumbed to sleep.

Chapter Text

A couple weeks into the new year and Bucky found himself busier than ever. Things were complicated at home—his family home. His sisters and parents were struggling financially and socially. He found himself having to stay over there more often than not—and that put a damper on his time with Steve. But, Steve understood. He also understood that Bucky was becoming increasingly busier at the docks because of all the extra shifts he’d been picking up. 

The last night they had spent together was the best one so far. Steve hadn’t ever felt that much intimacy from Bucky. The kisses, the attention to detail, the intention to get Steve off in more ways than one. Like—Steve came three times that night, and it didn’t matter to Bucky what he himself got. It was just all about Steve, until Bucky was begging. That begging…Steve couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

The care that Bucky put in to fucking him too, this last time, was an unforgettable. It made Steve so horny, and he kept getting those nervous jumps in his stomach. He’d replay these things over and over again, all day everyday, while he’d draw figurines around his home or sketch sights he’d observe out of his windows. Steve had a big collection of sketches at this point, and it was time to start selling them again. 

If Bucky wasn’t going to be around for a while, then Steve needed to find better ways to spend his time than daydreaming about Bucky. Bucky still made an effort to drop by every day or two, but it was so momentary. The two would exchange a hug, which was the normal part. They’d always been hugging, since they were on the schoolyard. The weird part was the dialogue, and the stares. Like…seriously, the staring. It’s like Bucky would forget that he’s talking to Steve, or that he’s supposed to be listening to Steve. His eyes would just lock onto Steve’s, his lips would part, and his mind would presumably go blank. 

Steve would have to shove his shoulder to snap him out of it—and every time he did, Bucky would have this concerned look on his face like he’d been fighting with the devil—and boy, was he doing just that. 

“You gotta stop doing that,” Steve would tell him—as it’d become so normal. The two would have brief exchanges of conversation, just making sure that they stayed in the loop of each other’s lives, and then they’d say goodbye—with another hug and a stare that lingered for a little too long. This was how it was, for weeks. 

Steve really started selling his art well—like, so well. People seemed genuinely interested in having local artwork from a boy who’d clearly put a lot of time into his sketches. Steve was just trying to get by, gather some extra cash for himself to take more weight off of Bucky. It was totally working—but mostly, Steve was enthusiastic about how many people wanted his art. He didn’t realize how much people were willing to pay, and it felt amazing. He was always budget friendly, which surprised him whenever people would suggest prices that were above anything he’d expect from the average person in Brooklyn. 

This unintended space between the two of them gave each boy a lot of time to think. Bucky would often reflect when he was at the docks about the things he and Steve had done, and how he undoubtedly wanted more of it. But, it wasn’t just about the sex anymore. He understood that there was more to it, and it was the first time he was actually letting those thoughts flood in. He was piecing it all together, as much as his mind would let him. It was all so foggy, but he knew it wasn’t some fling—some lapse in judgment—no. He understood how he felt about Steve, to an extent. He understood how important Steve was to him—that he’d do anything for him, no matter what. But that was as far as he’d go, thinking about this stuff. He’d hear those questions that Steve had asked before ring through his head, “what does this mean?” or more recently, “is this what best friends do?” Bucky thought about this daily, every time he had some peace and quiet to himself at the docks.

Steve had already figured it out, many moons ago. He already understood what his feelings meant, and why it was so unbearable for him. It’s why he wanted to stop, some time ago. He knew that they wouldn’t get their happy ending living in the times they did. On top of that, he genuinely couldn’t place Bucky’s feelings. Yeah, it was without a doubt that Bucky cared for him in such an overwhelming capacity, one that is hard to find, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Steve couldn’t assume that Bucky felt something as strong as love. And even if he did assume that, he’d also grapple with the idea that Bucky may not be strong enough to consider that himself—which would mean Bucky would lose himself to his insecurity, and then like Steve always anticipated, they would end. 

To Steve, they were doomed in every ending–and it would eat him alive.

Both boys were at war in their own heads everyday, and every time Bucky showed up on Steve's doorstep again, all of these fleeting reflections of whispers and touches would freeze in time—all of the worry would subside, and they were just so happy to see each other. Like there were a million unanswered questions—unexplained feelings—but it didn’t even matter. They were just so happy to…be. Existing right before each other, being within a hand’s reach—it was something. And something was enough…for now. 

Time went on like this until the icicles on Steve’s front porch started dripping, and the twig branches started blooming green. Steve noticed people’s coats getting lighter, the breeze felt warmer, the sun felt brighter. It was already April. God, this was a busy winter. Four months into the new year and Steve hadn’t felt Bucky’s touch since January. Well…except for that one night.

There was that one night, back in early March, where Bucky had come by real late–like, it was past midnight. Steve had been surprised to see him. Bucky had let himself in like usual, and given the hour, Steve was already asleep. This encounter was unusual. Bucky had found himself waking Steve up, who was briefly startled, and then they just sat staring at one another for a moment. Bucky couldn’t say anything–he wanted to, but he never could. So, he just stared…and stared…until he finally leaned in and started to kiss Steve.

But, this wasn’t a kiss of lust…it was like–passionate? Steve felt like Bucky was more interested in being intimate with him rather than trying to fuck him. But–at this point, Steve was yearning for anything. So, he was kissing back. It was a tender kiss–slow, like they were trying to savor it. Their breaths were shaking, their stomachs were turning inside out, and most importantly, their hands were gracefully touching each other's faces and heads. They were taking their time. Time was their friend, and they didn’t want their friend to slip away.

This lasted for roughly ten minutes of tender…slow kisses. They didn’t speak once, they didn’t touch each other’s dicks–there was no particular sign of Bucky wanting to initiate anything more than kissing Steve. This made Steve’s heart beat flutter, and he could feel Bucky’s was too. They just kept going, until Bucky pulled away, but slowly. He leaned in again, kissing Steve’s cheek–and then again, kissing Steve’s forehead. He stared into Steve’s eyes, again, not saying a word.

They both glared silently before Bucky turned away, footsteps trailing out of the bedroom, quickly closing the door behind him. Steve heard him leave out of the front door, too. And that was it–that was the entire exchange. It only gave Steve more questions, and it killed him that Bucky hadn’t found the time lately to let them talk–or even just hang out. Their time was so limited. And that was the one night where time was finally on their side–even just for ten minutes, they got to be together in the way that they think about daily, without even talking about it.

That helped Steve, despite throwing his mental state for a loop, it allowed him to move forward through March and into the beginning of April, knowing that Bucky hadn’t forgotten about anything. In fact, all of the space between the two of them just reinforced everything Steve thought he’d been feeling. Love–it was so fucking obvious to him now. He was in love with Bucky. Yeah, he’s alluded to it before, but now he knows it. With confidence. And that’s what drives him crazy–this feeling that he can never act upon, he can never fulfill, and he’s just floating through time, unable to say these things to Bucky. That was the worst part–he couldn’t even talk about this with his best friend, because his best friend was the man he was in love with. 

Bucky, on the other hand, this just made Bucky go crazy in his own mind. That kiss satisfied a need for him, but he had other needs. His sex drive was so high, and he couldn’t do anything about it. He wanted to stay over at Steve’s and have sex with him, but he was so scared to act on it because of that kiss. That kiss had implications that he wasn’t ready to talk about–that he still didn’t understand. It was unbearable–ALL of this. All of these feelings–these feelings. THESE feelings. He knew what they were but he still kept pushing them down. I mean, that’s impossible, right? Bucky couldn’t feel for Steve. He was just his best friend, he cared for him like best friends do. But that was it–that’s all it will ever be. 

Bucky had convinced himself of this. He’d do these mental gymnastics where he’d justify all of it. The sex–the kissing, the cuddling. To him, it was how he and Steve were. Like, that’s just him and Steve. That’s how they are together and that’s all it is. No questions, there’s no time for questions. It’s just them. They’re best friends, Bucky takes care of him, and that’s it. That’s Steve and Bucky. 

A season later and Bucky was finally able to come by Steve’s and stay for longer than a conversation or a quick bite to eat. Steve knew this evening was going to be different when he heard Bucky knock on his door—like he doesn’t know where the key is. 

“Hey, Steve!” Bucky smiled big while the door creaked open, Steve softly grinning on the other side. Bucky was so enthusiastic, like he had great news to tell Steve. Steve sighed into a toothy smile…

“Bucky!”

Chapter Text

It had only been a day or two since they saw each other last, but like all other days lately, it had been brief. Bucky was busy, coming from the docks and heading back to his folks home. Still, Steve was eager to see him. When Bucky walked into the house, kicking off his shoes and emptying his pockets, Steve felt euphoric. 

“Are you staying here tonight?” Steve held his breath, anticipating the response. 

“That’s the plan,” Bucky couldn’t stop smiling, “worked so much overtime at the docks, was finally able to help my parents' money situation. My younger brothers are still crazy. I also had to secure my sister’s place at that school that she’s been goin’ to.”

“Oh yeah, how is Rebecca? And what was going on with the school?” Steve asked while the two made their way into the living room, settling in. 

“She’s good now. She was bein’ bratty about the whole thing, doesn’t realize how privileged she is that we’re gettin’ her in that school to begin with. She’s learnin’ like the boys do, ‘n she doesn’t realize how rare that is,” Bucky explained. 

“She’s what, 13?”

“Yeah, crazy that,” Bucky reflected. 

“So, do you have time off at the docks or something?” 

“Eh, kind of. I’m not puttin’ in as many hours as I was durin’ winter, that’s for sure. I think I’m takin’ tomorrow off too, damn, I need a fuckin’ break,” Bucky stretched across the couch, exhaling as he did so. 

“You clean yourself up before you started rubbing yourself all over my couch?” Steve giggled while he took a bite of his pb&j sandwich that he had sitting on the coffee table. 

“Of course, Steve. I just came from m’folks place, not the docks. Showered and ate there,” he smiled, rubbing his eyes with his head laid back. 

“You know how I’ve been selling my art?” Steve started. 

“Yeah?”

“So, this lovely older couple actually asked me if I’d do a specific kind of drawing, like they’re commissioning me for it. And I just thought—you know? That’s kind of brilliant. Like, there are people that can bring your own visions to life simply by an explanation and their pen to a paper—and I just think that’s beautiful,” Steve explained with an elated tone. 

“Steve,” Bucky looked over at him, he was sitting on the chair diagonal to the couch, “you’re one of a kind,” Bucky meant that. His gaze was soft, admiring Steve’s passion for humanity. 

“Hm,” Steve responded with a stifled giggle. 

“Come sit next to me, Steve,” Bucky patted the couch, “I can watch you sketch,” he suggested. 

“Hmm, okay,” Steve finished his sandwich and got up, making his way over to Bucky after grabbing his pen and sketchbook off of the coffee table. 

Steve sat down right next to Bucky, with a questionable amount of space between them. Bucky’s arms were still outstretched, along the top of the couch. He kept them like this, restraining from letting his right arm collapse around Steve’s shoulders, pulling him in for a cuddle. Instead, he just observed as Steve began to open the pages. 

“Don’t look so close,” Steve giggled. 

“Why? You hidin’ somethin’?” Bucky nudged Steve with his body. 

“There’s just…some half baked sketches of you sometimes,” he kept his eyes glued to his pages, meticulously flipping through. 

“What?! And you haven’t shown me?” Bucky leaned more forward, trying to see the pages clearer. 

“Can’t show you those,” Steve smiled, “they’re just like…your eyes and face and whatever,” he was getting shy. 

“I won’t ever force you to show me but Steve, I’d love it,” Bucky reassured him. 

“Mhm…,” Steve landed on a mostly blank page with a couple of lines already drawn, and he immediately got to work. His wrist flicked quickly, but delicately. It was beautiful to witness, and Bucky couldn’t keep his eyes off of his hand. 

The room got that much more quiet as they both honed in on Steve’s drawing. The sun had been setting, creating this golden hue to the far side of Steve’s living space. Bucky continued to observe Steve’s artwork, the flick of the pen on the paper. When Bucky decided to move in a little closer, he could see a tremble in Steve’s linework.

“Just want a better look,” Bucky spoke softly. 

“Yeah, sure,” Steve brushed it off, playing it cool like his heart didn’t skip a beat as Bucky’s thigh collided with his. Steve could feel his right arm sprawled behind him—even though they weren’t touching. It was just the air between, it felt like deadweight. He had tingles on his upper back, where Bucky’s arm would be touching had he moved it down. Fuck, Steve could hardly focus. His line work was starting to look like shit—but to Bucky, he hoped it’d looked intentional. 

“You make it look effortless,” Bucky’s voice rang through Steve’s head. God, did he move closer? It felt like he moved closer. His voice was soft but there was something in it, something that made Steve want to tear off Bucky’s clothes…fuck. 

“I-it’s really just a matter of wrist control and—ahem—just, basic anatomical knowledge,” Steve spoke quickly, it was so obvious he was nervous. 

“Stevie, you okay? You sound nervous, or somethin’,” Bucky almost sounded genuine. 

“Mmhm yeah, I’m good, Buck,” Steve retaliated, his eyes still glued to his sketchbook. Bucky moved his arm down and around Steve’s upper body, side hugging him while he continued watching Steve sketch—with a tremble in his stroke. 

“It’s just so smooth,” Bucky sounded sultry, “your artwork—I mean.”

“Thanks…,” Steve tried to stay calm, anticipating any sexual advances. When Bucky moved real close to his ear, Steve knew he’d lost himself. 

“One day, you gotta teach me,” Bucky whispered breathlessly into Steve’s ear, closing in with a brief kiss. Bucky kept kissing the side of Steve’s face, pulling his right arm in to bring Steve’s body against him. Steve’s hands stopped moving—he froze. This is what he’s been wanting—NEEDING, even. 

He could barely contain himself. Steve’s hands instinctually closed his sketchbook without a second though, and frantically turned himself toward Bucky, crawling onto him—desperately going in for a kiss–and it was aggressive. 

Steve was licking into Bucky’s mouth like he’d needed to or else he was going to die. The two tussled around getting comfortable as Steve settled his body on top of Bucky’s, sitting upright on the couch. Bucky had aggressively latched his right hand on the back of Steve’s head, pulling him into the embrace while his other hand trailed Steve’s lower back and waist. Steve’s hands were cupping Bucky’s face and running through his brunette hair. Their eager kiss exchanged moans into each other's mouths, like they couldn’t breathe but they were happy not to. 

As they kissed, Steve could hear Bucky’s breath become more and more stiff—sounding like something was creeping up on him, and he was right. A sharp inhale escaped Bucky’s mouth…

“W-wait wait wait wait wait wait wait,” he grabbed Steve’s shoulders, pushing him back and holding him away as he rambled in a frenzy. 

“What, Bucky?!” Steve sounded annoyed. 

“Just…we were doing so good—we—we, I mean…I…I was doing so good,” he began to stutter to himself, and Steve already knew how he meant this. Bucky considered them not having sex as him “doing good”. At least he had the decency to correct himself in saying “I”, given he’s the only one in this room carrying guilt. 

“Bucky…,” Steve sighed. Bucky had relaxed his grip on Steve, which allowed Steve to act upon his urges. He leaned down, softly kissing around Bucky’s left ear, and then snaking down his neck—slowly, and intimately. He could feel the resistance in Bucky—his hands were still holding Steve’s shoulders, his muscles were tense, and he wasn’t saying anything. He was contemplating. 

“Mmmn…Bucky,” Steve teased while he kissed his neck, sucking on his skin. His hips began moving, subtly grinding on Bucky’s dick.

“Steve…,” Bucky sounded resigned, but still no movement. 

“Please,” Steve whispered into Bucky’s ear. Please. Holy fuck…that’s all it took. One word, one simple word and suddenly, Bucky ditched his doubts. The tremble in Steve’s voice when he begged Bucky like that—so polite, but so desperate. Bucky couldn’t pretend like that wasn’t the hottest thing he’d ever heard from Steve with him grinding his hips on him like that—fuck. 

“Fuck…,” Bucky sighed outloud. Along with his sigh, he placed each hand on the sides of Steve’s hips, guiding him as Steve continued to grind on him. Bucky turned his head back towards Steve and the two began kissing each other’s mouths again. Steve’s nerves had plummeted in anticipation—he could feel it in every fiber of his being. The two kept on kissing for minutes on end while snaking their arms up and down each other’s bodies, leaving their marks along each other’s skin. 

“B-bucky…please, I—I need it,” Steve whimpered in between kisses, still grinding on his hard cock that was tenting in his pants. 

“F-fuck, take them off, Steve—,” Bucky panicked, like he was also desperate, “fuckin’ get them off.”

Steve quickly removed his own pants and boxers while still atop Bucky, though it did interrupt the swing of things and that’s why Bucky seemed annoyed at the thought of it. As soon as Steve resituated himself on top of Bucky, Bucky had pulled him in tightly, securing him above his bulge that was still in his pants. Steve began reaching for Bucky’s dick to take it out—but Bucky grabbed his wrist. 

“No,” he spoke calmly, but sternly, looking Steve in the eye. 

“But—,” Steve started. 

“I’ll do it, just keep movin’ your hips…show me how much you want it, Stevie,” Bucky’s voice fell into a whisper as he tightened his grip on Steve’s upper thighs. 

“Mmn…please…,” Steve whimpered softly while he began to grind on Bucky, again. 

“Keep whining…fuck…I like it when you whine,” Bucky ran his hand through the back of Steve’s head, tightening his grip on a lock of Steve’s golden hair. 

“Mhmm…is that right?” Steve moaned as Bucky pulled his head in, colliding with him for a kiss. 

“Mmmnn, yes baby…keep whining,” Bucky moaned into his mouth. 

“B-buck…please…it’s been—so long,” Steve whimpered, running his hands down to Bucky’s pants again—trying for a second time. Bucky quickly grabbed his wrists. 

“You’re so…fuckin’ needy,” Bucky said with a grin, like he found Steve’s desperation entertaining—staring up at him as if he were his muse. 

“BUCKY! I want you INSIDE of me!” Steve cried out as though this was his final proclamation. 

“Hmm…,” Bucky, still Steve’s wrists in hand, stared up at the pretty blonde’s glossy eyes with a soft smile, “…fuck, okay—but only because you’re beggin’. What’s that pretty word you use?” Bucky teased. 

“Please…Bucky, PLEASE!” Steve whined. Bucky released his grip from Steve’s wrists and reached down to his pants, unbuttoning them and pulling out his hard cock. He kept his clothes on—it felt…sexier that way. Steve removed his top—something about naked Steve on top of clothed Bucky made Bucky feel even more dirty than he usually did—and that turned him on. 

Bucky stroked himself some while Steve was desperately using his own saliva to lubricate his asshole, Bucky doing the same to his cock. Before Bucky could initiate penetration, Steve had already taken it upon himself to lower his hips down until his asshole kissed Bucky’s tip, which surprised Bucky. 

“Wh-what’s gotten into you?” Bucky laughed in disbelief. He was so surprised to see Steve’s initiative. 

“MMNNnnn—WELL, hopefully…you,” Steve responded while his asshole greedily swallowed Bucky’s tip. Bucky let him comfortably lower himself while he held his waist for support, staring at Steve who was looking up with his eyes closed and a strained expression. 

“Fuck…you really missed me, hm?” Bucky moaned playfully. 

“Y-yes…Bucky…,” Steve was fully sitting on Bucky’s cock. The two locked eyes and panted together as Steve, with Bucky’s help, lifted his hips up slowly, lowering back down all the same. The two moaned together, keeping eye contact the entire time. They did this for a few too many strokes before Bucky interrupted the songs their voices were singing. 

“What do you say, Stevie? Hmm? What do you say to me for givin’ you my cock?” Bucky panted, tightening his grip on Steve’s waist—guiding him as he constantly rolled his hips onto him. 

“T-thank you…thank you,” Steve whimpered, not slowing his pace. 

“Good boy,” Bucky bit Steve’s collarbone, sinking his teeth in until he felt there’d be a mark left long enough for him to look at it. 

“Mmnn…Buck?” Steve panted in a question. 

“Hmm?” 

“What do you say…mmnn, for me doing all the work?” Steve spoke breathlessly. 

“Thank you,” Bucky grabbed Steve’s jaw, pulling his face downward to look into his eyes before he finished saying, “now fuck me like you want it.”

“I do!” Steve retaliated. 

“Like a good boy?” Bucky grunts. 

“I am!” Steve cried out. 

“Mmn, is that right?” Bucky then moved his hand to the back of Steve’s head, gripping at his blond hair and pulling his head back where his chin tipped to the ceiling. He leaned forward, sinking his teeth and tongue on Steve’s vulnerable neck, exposed to the dim sunset lighting of the living room. Steve whimpered as Bucky’s teeth felt like they were puncturing his skin—it interrupted his steady rhythm riding Bucky, and that’s when Bucky whispered, “bad boy, messin’ up our rhythm.”

“You made me do it!” Steve cried out, relentlessly slamming himself down onto Bucky’s cock, trying to make up for the mistake that Bucky seemed to care a lot about. 

“Mmn, Stevie, lemme show you a little somethin’ about rhythm—,” Bucky gripped Steve’s thighs, trying to hold him in place, “stop movin’, can you do that for me, baby?”

“I don’t wanna stop,” Steve panted back, continuing to roll his hips over Bucky, grinding his cock with his asshole. 

“Stevie,” Bucky moaned while he wrapped his hand around Steve’s jaw and pulled him down for a kiss. Their breaths trembled between kisses and Bucky tried again, “can you stop for me, baby? Please.”

“F…fuck—okay,” Steve whined impatiently—but he couldn’t resist Bucky pleading like that. Steve stayed there, hovering above Bucky with the tip still in—and that’s when Bucky started to do it. He started to fuck Steve…from beneath him. Steve never even considered this as a possibility—the way Bucky slid slightly down on the couch, gripping onto Steve’s ass and thighs, pointing Steve’s ass slightly up and out—creating a dip in his lower back as he leaned down into Bucky. And then he did it, started moving his hips quickly up and down, railing Steve’s asshole. 

“You like it like this, Stevie?” Bucky teased, knowing Steve wouldn’t likely conjure a response. 

“MNUUGGH—FUCKKK!!!!!!” He cried out—loudly. Bucky almost broke stride out of paranoia, double checking if the blinds were drawn (they were). 

“Good boy,” Bucky praised him while he slowed his strokes, his abs were burning. Steve’s body relaxed as the strokes took a pause, falling fully onto Bucky’s cock and sitting there for a moment. The two kept eye contact again, not faltering. Steve had a feverish look on his face, eyes slanted on the ends and lips parted while he caught his breath. 

“You’re so hot, Bucky,” Steve didn’t even realize what he’d said. He’s never called anyone that in his life—he’s never looked at somebody and sexualized them like that. But Bucky? Right now? With his messy brunette hair, sweat beads building around his hairline, dripping down his face—blue eyes like ice that glowed grey in this washed lighting—shirt partially unbuttoned, pants poorly pulled down enough to reveal his cock. Just, everything—everything was purely magical. It was so sexy, and Steve couldn’t believe that what he was looking down at was real. 

“Roll your hips,” Bucky commanded softly—hot? He thought to himself…hot…he’s been called things like that before, but out of Steve’s mouth—it just felt so different. Like it was the only opinion he’d cared about. 

“Whatever you say, Bucky,” there it is again, that feeling—the one that feels so different. Bucky’s heart would nearly skip a beat, and Steve could feel it. His hands were placed along Bucky’s chest, feeling around as he picked up his pace and rolled his hips. 

“Bounce on me, Stevie,” Bucky ordered him again, and it made Steve feel chills run down his spine. He felt so rewarded, hearing Bucky tell him what he wants. Steve found his comfortable positioning before relying on his knees as he displaced the pressure of his body into them, lifting his ass off of Bucky’s legs. He did so until it felt right, and then brought himself sliding back down until he’d hear that clapping sound he’d become so familiar with. Now that he’d done it once, he was able to comfortably do it again…and again…and again. 

“God…Bucky—I never wanna wait so long again,” Steve whined while he threw his head back. Bucky had his hands gripped tightly on Steve’s lower ass, lifting him and following his lead back down in consistent bounces. 

“Steve…,” Bucky moaned, “mmmnn…Stevie,” he pushed down on Steve’s legs, signaling Steve to stop bouncing—and he did. Steve readjusted himself and slowly grinded on Bucky while he looked down at him, curious what he had to say. 

“What is it, Bucky?” 

“I just…,” his eyes squinted and his brows furrowed as he felt Steve’s asshole start pulsating, like he was flexing himself around Bucky’s cock. 

“Mmn, you just what?” He teased. 

“Want…to kiss you,” Bucky mumbled in his daze, struggling to focus. Steve felt his heart skip a beat at the confession—it was so pure. He saw Bucky’s arms reaching out to hold his face, and he began leaning in—wrapping his hands around Bucky’s wrists as they came close. 

Their lips collided, and it felt like that night in March. The intimacy, the slowness—they were making out, and making love. Their bodies were intertwined in the deepest way humans knew how, and both of them felt chills all over. Steve kept grinding and their lips kept touching. 

It was all slow, lustful, and romantic. Their hands ran through each other's hair—grazed each other’s necks, framed each other’s faces—and it was amazing. Their tongues did slow circles around one another, and they’d fall back into a kiss. Everything was slow—neither of them seemed to want to change that pace. Steve grinded and they made out slow for another five minutes before something changed. 

“Fuck,” Bucky panted softly into Steve’s mouth, breaking their kiss slightly as he pressed his forehead to Steve’s. His teeth were gritted, and his body was tense—Steve could feel his hands turn into fists, gripping onto his golden hair and milky skin. Steve didn’t realize what was happening until he felt it. Bucky was cumming—Steve could feel him twitching, and the hot slick was shooting out of him. In the past, Bucky seemed to need fast paced or aggressive to climax—and this was everything but that. Steve grinded on him slowly and helped him through it, getting him to the end. They kept their foreheads close until Steve tipped his chin up and Bucky’s head down, planting a kiss on his forehead. 

Bucky was breathing hard, and he lifted his head back up, pulling Steve in for a few soft kisses. His breaths slowed, and Steve stopped rolling his hips. 

“That was…,” Steve started to say before falling into a chuckle, “that was unbelievable…for me,” he pulled his head back, looking at Bucky while he said this. 

“It was…for me too,” Bucky smiled, also joining in the laugh. At this, Steve lifted himself off of Bucky slowly, feeling his softening cock slide out of him accompanied by his cum. The two sighed together as the adjustments were being made—and Steve quickly put his boxers on before Bucky’s seed could make a bigger mess. He collapsed into the couch, exhausted from all of the work he’d just put in. Bucky was still sitting down, sprawled out with his pants undone. The two laid next to each other, staring at the ceiling. 

“Bucky?” Steve asked. 

“Mhm?” Bucky tilted his head slightly toward Steve, still keeping his eyes at the ceiling. 

“How come you like to kiss me so much?” Steve smirked to himself, getting a kick out of his own question. 

“I…hahaha,” Bucky looked over at Steve and then looked away with a laugh. 

“Really?” Steve turned toward him, mocking his behavior. 

“I just…like to? I don’t know,” Bucky struggled to find an answer. 

“You wanna know why I like kissing you?” Steve teased. 

“Hmm, why?” Bucky had a sultry tone to his voice. 

“Your lips are soft, you taste good—and honestly, I just like being that close to you. I feel connected to you in ways I had only ever dreamed of,” Steve started off with a smile, but it dipped into a bit of a frown. 

“When was the first time you dreamed something like that?” 

“Gah, had to be like—I don’t know, since we were kids. When everyone would be playing their stupid games on the playground, talking about kissing boys and girls—it was like, this thing I didn’t understand but I just automatically had this response of like, ‘oh yeah, I’d kiss Bucky’,” Steve impersonated his younger self in a silly way, like he was poking fun. 

“When did you make sense of it, Steve?” Bucky’s gaze softened, and he took a more serious but calm tone. 

“We’re really talking about this?” Steve sat up and forward, looking at Bucky who also readjusted, buttoning his pants and sitting up on the couch.

“We should, ‘fore I change m’mind,” Bucky gave a half laugh as he reached for a glass of water that was on the coffee table. 

“It had to be like…well, it’s difficult because I knew I’d always felt strongly about you just in general, the feeling has always stayed the same. It was more so a moment of realizing that how I felt about my best friend is how people feel about their lovers. Like, I never had anyone to differentiate that feeling with. I just knew about standards and boundaries, like what makes something romantic? What makes something platonic? All of that bull, and I guess it really truly hit me after we had sex—,” Steve cleared his throat before adding, “the second time.”

“So it was like, we had sex ‘n that’s what made you realize how you felt wasn’t somethin’ normal for a friend?” Bucky was subtly fidgeting.

“Yeah, Buck. When we were sitting here after the first time, talking about what happened and you said you loved it I was like, if Bucky can say something like that then I would be lying to myself if I thought any different. I know you were talking about the action of it—the feeling of sex, but when you said that, it made me consider love in general.”

“Steve…,” Bucky cleared his throat and looked away as he sighed, “it wadn’t just about the action.” 

Steve’s heart skipped a beat. In his head, Bucky feels the same way as him. But in his reality? He thought Bucky would never admit to it. 

“Can you tell me more?” Steve took caution with a tremble in his voice. 

“Hah,” Bucky dryly laughed to himself, “I mean…it ain’t so easy to say out loud. Can barely say it in my head.”

“Do you think you’d ever? Say it out loud?” Steve perked up, brows furrowed in anticipation.

“I don’t know, Stevie…what would be the point?” Bucky put his palm to his face and rubbed his eyes. 

“I know our world wouldn’t understand, but I would…,” Steve felt tears begin to form. 

“Steve…,” Bucky sighed, “what if I just don’t want you to understand?”

“What does that even mean,” Steve’s voice raised in pitch—just a little.

“What if I don’t even understand?” Bucky’s voice cracked as he wiped away tears that were suddenly streaming down his cheeks. Steve immediately went to console him, putting his arms around his shoulders, hugging him from the side. 

“Shh, Buck—it’s okay, we have time to figure this out, so let’s just stop talking about it tonight, okay? Let’s just go lay down?” Steve squeezed him tightly and rubbed his arms. 

“M-m’kay…,” Bucky sniffled before the two of them stood up and went into the bathroom, cleaning themselves properly. Neither of them spoke. For once, they found peace in the silence, exchanging longing glances through the bathroom mirror as they got ready for bed. 

When they laid down together, they stayed close—close enough where Bucky pulled Steve into him, wrapping his arms around him as they both laid on their sides. 

“Been a while since I got to hold you like this,” Bucky whispered. 

“I think about it every night I go to sleep,” Steve cozied up next to Bucky, shimmying his body until he was comfortable. 

“I’ve been guilty of that, too,” Bucky smiled with the corner of his mouth, letting his eyes fall as they intended and his head sink into the pillow. Whatever this was, he knew he wanted it for the rest of well—…forever.

Chapter Text

“Mm…Bucky,” Steve muttered as he began to stretch out against Bucky in bed.

“Hmmm…,” Bucky lowly hummed back, eyes still closed and stretching his body too.

“What time is it?” Steve whispered. “You had to wake me up to ask that?” Bucky groaned.

“Maybe I just wanted to talk to you,” Steve rubbed his eyes, squinting at the clock, “but I also just can’t see the time.”

Bucky rolled over and glanced at the wall, “it’s not even 9:00 in the morning.”

“We’ve been asleep a while,” Steve said, turning his body to face Bucky’s.

“You wanna get some more?” Bucky giggled as he cozied back in bed, laughing at Steve’s goofy behavior. 

“Mmm…maybe. You can go back to sleep, I just want to cuddle up next to you.”

“Mm’kay,” Bucky blinked softly at Steve before rolling off of his side and onto his back, motioning for Steve to rest his head on his chest. 

“Oh, this again…,” Steve giggled with a smirk. 

“Hm? You don’t want to?” Bucky teased. 

“Shut up—!” 

“You’re the one makin’ a face,” Bucky smiled back. 

“I’m just…shy is all,” Steve giggled, turning his head in embarrassment. 

“It’s cute. Let’s lay like this instead,” Bucky said before having Steve lay on his side, spooning behind him as they both faced the window. 

“Mmm,” Steve mumbled as he settled in next to Bucky’s warm body. He was always so warm, like Steve’s personal heater. He felt Bucky squeeze him tighter.

“You like this?” Bucky asked endearingly. 

“I think I prefer it,” Steve said softly, “it’d be nice if I could hold you, though—but I’m too small.”

“That’s sweet, Stevie. I ain’t never been held like that.”

“One day, we’ll have to try it,” Steve suggested. 

“Mhm.”

The two of them laid like this for a couple minutes—Bucky was running his  nails along Steve’s skin, occasionally palming to the pads of his fingers. He could feel Steve’s heartbeat ring through the bed. He was very relaxed, at peace in a way that Bucky felt astonished being the one to grant him it. But his mind got the better of him. 

“Stevie?”

“Mmmhm?”

“You know I could fuck you like this?”

“Bucky…,” Steve giggled. 

“You want me to?” Bucky began grinding himself against Steve, tightening his grip around Steve’s upper body. 

“Maybe later…what if we just laid like this for a bit? Without the sex?” Bucky slowed his roll. 

“Mm, you’re so sweet, Stevie,” Bucky kissed his cheek, “yeah, let’s just lay together.”

“Feels weird when you got a hard cock, doesn’t it?” Steve’s laugh vibrated through Bucky’s body, “like a sword poking my ass!”

“Shut up—these are hard to avoid around you,” Bucky laughed too, and nipped his cheek during the banter. 

They must have fallen back asleep. Bucky awoke to commotion outside, sounding like some kids enjoying the summer weather. He glanced at the clock, about an hour had passed. Bucky looked down at Steve who was still asleep, eyes closed and soft skin. He watched for a moment, the airbrushed appearance on Steve’s face—peaceful and warm. 

Bucky got lost in this for a moment. He couldn’t imagine a life waking up and looking at anybody else like this—this close, this personal, this vulnerable. He knew what this was, and it nearly broke his heart despite making it feel whole. It was a mere contradiction—a tragedy—some sick joke. Why—how? How could he have fallen for the one person that would cause him such pain? Steve was everything Bucky ever wanted, and it took him years to realize, only for it to still be unattainable. They couldn’t marry—they couldn’t have kids…fuck, they couldn’t even be seen together. He got lost in this, this spiral. It felt like his own war, one without an ending—one that was designed to never be in his favor—in their favor, and that killed him. This war was his, and he was destined to lose. 

“Stevie?” Bucky kissed his cheek, subtly shaking him to wake up. 

“Mmhm?” Steve mumbled. 

“What if we did somethin’ today,” Bucky suggested, “like, go out? Maybe get a coffee? People watch through the city?”

“Wow, yeah—that’d be nice to get out,” Steve said, turning onto his back to reveal Bucky looking down at him, perched on his palm and bent arm. 

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Your eyes look so green right now,” Bucky noted. 

“Yours look so blue, I could go swimming in them,” Steve giggled, “you been watching me sleep or something?”

“Maybe.”

“Jerk.”

“Punk.”

“Let’s get up, we got a city to stroll!” Steve jumped out of bed, ready to explore the streets since winter has subsided. The two began to get dressed, wearing their general color palette of whites, greys, and browns. The spring weather was still arguably chilly at times, so Steve made sure to wear an off white long sleeved button shirt, thin and breathable. His immune system liked to ruin the fun, so he always had to be prepared. He also had on some brown slacks that tied at the waist. Bucky wore something similar, though he had on a brown plaid collared short sleeve button up that he tucked into his waistband, snatching his waist with a thin black belt on his lighter brown slacks. 

Both of them didn’t bother to style their hair. Steve’s was always kind of just how he wanted it. Bucky would often gel his back, fitting into that greaser style the gals seemed to like lately, but he decided to leave it a little messy, falling into his face. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone that wasn’t Steve, so why bother?

As the two walked out of the door together, they took stock of the busy streets. So many people were out, like they’d been cooped up all winter and it was finally their opportunity to get some sun. 

“Wow, ‘m not really out durin’ the daytime ‘cause I’m just stuck at the docks, I always forget how many people we got in Brooklyn,” Bucky said as they made their way down the street. 

“I watch out my window sometimes, and yeah, I always forget too,” Steve laughed while he looked down at his shoes that he noticed were falling behind Bucky’s, “hey—slow down, will ya?”

“My bad, Stevie!” Bucky quickly fell back in line. 

“You forget I have asthma?” Steve giggled, trying to make Bucky feel bad. 

“As if.”

They continued until they reached their favorite coffee place down the block. Steve took a seat at a two person table while he watched Bucky go to the counter for the two of them. It was a relatively simple day, with a few others in the shop and a calm atmosphere. Bucky got their coffees and brought them over to their table, with some sugar and cream for Steve. 

“I’m glad I don’t drink this stuff everyday,” Steve said as he opened a packet of sugar into his coffee. 

“Some of my guys at the docks are bad when it comes to coffee,” Bucky said as sipped his, which he added nothing into. 

“Anything new with them?”

“Hm, well, Robbie was talkin’ about enlisting—which I walked away from ‘cause you know I hate talkin’ about that stuff,” Bucky’s gaze dropped. 

“Did he say that he was thinking about it or that he was going to?” Steve pushed. 

“Honestly, Steve, I walked away immediately.”

“If I see him around, I’ll have to ask him. How are you able to avoid people talking about the war anyway?”

“I barely can, it’s like number one news at the docks. It’s all the guys go on about along with who they’re marryin’ and all that,” Bucky giggled at the latter half. 

“Hah, marrying…something I’ll never do,” Steve laughed as he blew on his hot coffee. 

“Never say never.”

“You just said never.”

“It’s the only time it’s acceptable to say never,” Bucky retaliated. 

“Yeah, okay Buck,” Steve kicked him playfully under the table. 

“Stop that,” Bucky giggled and kicked back. 

“You wanna get out of here? Walk down main?” Steve suggested. 

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

The young men made their way out of the café with smiles on their faces. Steve felt like he was glowing, being out with Bucky. It’s not like they’ve never been out before—but this time? After everything that happened in the last 8 months? It felt…different. Like they weren’t just best friends anymore. They’d never call it anything else, it was just the feeling, a feeling entirely between them. Steve couldn’t keep his eyes off of Bucky the whole time they walked. He let his body brush up against Bucky as they walked close together, and neither of them seemed to care. Bucky would glance down at him, shoot him this look where they both knew how he meant it—that smirk, the half lid eyes—it was suggestive—like, yes Stevie, touch me. 

Bucky tried not to touch Steve when they were out like this. He found himself actually having to hold himself back. He’d get these innate urges to put his hand on his cheek, hug up on him a little too much, and even kiss him. He wanted to do these things, but in a city that never sleeps? Yeah, right. Instead, he’d just continue to give Steve these looks. He wanted them to be out in the world together, enjoying themselves without the threat of anybody else interfering in a way that'd harm them mentally and potentially physically. Despite Bucky’s genuine appreciation every time he’d look at Steve, there was this buzzing in the back of his head—this paranoia, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. It never really went away. 

They’d been out all day together, the sun was already setting by the time they got back to Steve’s place. It was 8ish. They had walked around, people watched, ate out at a restaurant, ran into some old friends and familiar faces, and really just talked. It was like what they’ve always done together, since they were kids, but it felt different. 

“Today was nice, Buck,” Steve smiled as they took their shoes off and locked the door behind them. 

“It was,” Bucky kept his gaze low and his voice soft. 

“Something wrong?” Steve asked with furrowed brows, realizing that Bucky’s body language had just changed. 

“All day,” Bucky started while looking up and checking that the blinds were closed, “all day, I’ve just wanted to kiss you.”

“Oh, I—,” before Steve could even respond, Bucky had already leaned in, placing his hands around Steve’s jaw, framing his face gently, and connecting his lips to Steve’s. The kiss was polite, not greedy. Bucky kept his temper appropriate, reveling in the embrace as it was—soft, elegant, and tender. 

“Mmm,” Bucky groaned as he pulled his head back, aligning his gaze with Steve’s eyes. 

“You feel better now?” Steve giggled with bright red cheeks. 

“You’re blushing,” Bucky gave a soft smile and giggled back at him. 

“You have that effect on me lately,” Steve turned away, breaking their embrace and began to unbutton his shirt, walking to his bedroom. 

“Let me help you with that,” Bucky followed him into the bedroom, placing his hands across Steve’s top while he turned around to let Bucky help him. 

“Usually I do this part,” Steve giggled as he watched Bucky’s hands do the work, button by button. It was intimate, and almost ridiculous to Steve. 

“Yeah, things change,” Bucky smirked as he pulled back the top off of Steve’s shoulders, who spun around to let Bucky slide it off of his arms. 

“Your turn,” Steve placed his hands on Bucky now, unbuttoning slowly as the sides of his palms rested on Bucky’s stiff abdomen. 

“This is cute, I can’t stop smilin’—I feel silly,” Bucky admitted, looking down at Steve’s skinny hands. 

“I like when you get shy like this, makes me feel in control for once,” Steve laughed into a big smile. 

“Right, ‘cause usually I’m in control,” Bucky said sarcastically, mocking Steve’s remark. Steve stopped for a moment keeping his hands against Bucky, looking up at him. 

“Don’t play dumb, you know how I meant it,” his eyes widening with an implication that only the two of them would understand. 

“I know, I’m just messin’ with you,” Bucky bit his bottom lip before he finished saying, “maybe we should hop in the shower together, save some water.”

“Yeah, of course, gotta save the water,” Steve giggled, agreeing with Bucky. Bucky let his shirt fall down his arms after Steve removed the last button, and the two of them made their way into the bathroom. Steve drew the water while Bucky removed his belt, pants dropping to the floor. 

“That’s a sound I’ll never forget, not since the first time,” Steve said while hunched over feeling the water work its way to warmth. 

“Not sure how I should respond to that,” Bucky gave a short laugh, understanding that the connotation of the first time was a little more complicated than just the first time they had sex. It carried a lot more intense emotions, ones they haven’t really been able to unpack. Bucky doesn’t like to think about it often, how this wave of lust and want washed over him in the most unprecedented manner. It was the most aggressive he’d ever been, and the most emotional. He’d never cried like that, dealt pain like that, or experienced pleasure like that. It was everything all at once, and it was riveting. 

“I wouldn’t either, hahaha,” Steve says, “sorry for bringing it up,” he wasn’t, though. Steve was always transparent, no matter the cost. Bucky was the complicated one, without a doubt. Steve was just…himself. The first time was dangerous for Steve. It was his first time doing anything, and it was with the love of his life, someone he was so consumed by. So when it started happening, he let it. The little bit of resistance he exhibited was purely out of nervousness given the sensitivity of sex. 

Ultimately, it never had anything to do with Bucky. Despite him not knowing exactly what this was or how he felt until he really thought about it after the second time, he did know that Bucky could never do anything to lose him. Bucky could do anything and Steve would still be completely consumed by him—so when Bucky started to do this, something so intimate, a bond only they would come to know and understand, Steve quickly came to want it. That first time was dangerous because it opened up a new perspective of want from Bucky…from his best friend. It was a slippery slope, and he…slipped. 

On top of the abrupt sex, there was also the aggression. Steve had come to understand that he likes it when Bucky is aggressive like that. For some reason, something twisted in him, he liked how Bucky struggled to exemplify his feelings, and the best way he knew how was through pain. A perfect caricature of what goes on inside his head, and he felt comfortable enough to paint this onto Steve’s body, through the nails digging into his skin or the bite marks on his neck—whatever it was, however he did it, Steve came to love it. It made him elated to look across his body and see these marks. 

The gratification wasn’t immediate, though. The first time it happened, he didn’t know what to think—he hadn’t even processed it fully until the bruises began to fade, which took weeks. He’d stare at them in the mirror while Bucky was avoiding him, and he’d contemplate what they meant. At the time, there was this possibility that Bucky was potentially disappointed in Steve and his outward queerness he had implied to him—maybe these were marks of punishment, maybe Bucky wanted Steve to feel ashamed and this was the reminder. But then there was this other side, that ended up being the reality, where these marks and expressions of pain were projections of Bucky’s scrambled mind—his complicated nature. 

“Is it warm enough yet?” Bucky said, squatting down next to Steve completely nude. 

“Just about,” Steve pulled the pin in the faucet of the tub, which transferred the water to the overhead sprinkler. Bucky climbed over the tub, pulling the curtain enough to keep the water inside but still watch Steve remove his pants. 

“Feels so good in here after bein’ out alllllllll dayyyyyy,” Bucky drawled out his accent, exhaling to the ceiling as he bowed his head back in a relaxed manner. 

“On your left,” Steve gave him a little nudge, notifying him that he was getting into the shower next to Bucky, whose eyes were closed as he reveled in the warm water. Bucky looked down at him and smiled, moving over enough for the water to be hitting his chest and Steve’s. 

“Remember when you said you’d marry me if ya’ could?” Bucky started saying while his arms wrapped around Steve, brushing his hands through his hair, dampening it. As the water soaked, his golden hair had a light brown tinge to it. 

“Yes.”

“I think I would too,” Bucky giggled. 

“You’d marry yourself?” Steve joked. 

“Shut up, you punk,” Bucky gave him a little push with his palm falling from his hair to his face, and Steve laughed as the water made its way across his face. 

“I’m sorry, it was right there.”

“I meant it, who wouldn’t wanna marry their best friend?” There it was, best friend, as if that’s the best way to describe them. Steve laughed it off, but he felt that knife twist in him just a little, like that denial is still so clearly within Bucky, and he couldn’t do anything about it. He just had to endure it. 

They were behaving like a couple would—in all aspects—and Bucky still couldn’t bring himself to admit it. He had explained yesterday that it’s something he hasn’t come to understand himself, which really meant that Bucky still struggled with the idea that men could be with other men, but Steve didn’t understand how that was so complicated for people. People fall in love with people. How can there be questions surrounding the most pure and innocent connection a person can experience? This was what frustrated Steve, and it was something he had to keep to himself—this was a conversation Bucky couldn’t handle. 

“What would your mother say?” Steve joked again. 

“Are ya’ kiddin’? She’d be elated that ‘m finally gettin’ married,” Bucky said sarcastically. 

“Yeah? And who’d be wearing the dress?” Steve nearly felt his knees get weak when the question escaped his mouth—realizing the heteronormative implication the moment he’d said it out loud. Why did one of them have to wear a dress? He hated this, realizing in real time what the world has taught him, shaping his innocence with an agenda. “I take that back—fuck it, we’d both be in suites.”

“I like that idea—Stevie in a suit? Pretty boy,” Bucky and Steve were swaying with each other in the shower, making slow rotations so the water could run on each of their heads every spin cycle. 

“Bucky in a suit? God, I’m already cumming,” Steve laughed, rolling his eyes back in a suggestive manner. 

“Shut up,” Bucky had begun washing Steve’s hair, massaging the soap through his scalp, watching as it relaxed Steve. 

“Feels good,” Steve was moving his arms in return, scrubbing soap across Bucky’s back and arms. Eventually, his arms stretched enough to scrub his brunette hair, too. The two of them kept washing one another as they giggled and rotated in the shower. 

“The wedding,” Bucky muttered like he was lost in thought. 

“Hm?” Steve humored him.

“Would we do it outside?” Steve couldn’t help but smile at Bucky not only bringing it up again, but asking more questions. It pained him, though—just a reminder that they’re speaking in hypotheticals. 

“Maybe, but what if we did it during the winter, on a sunny day where the snow glistens as the sun hits it,” Steve closed his eyes like he was picturing it. 

“You’ve really thought about this,” Bucky smiled. 

“I like the idea of a contradiction, winter and the sun—it’s poetic, artistic—it defies perfection, where all things cohesive are suddenly not—and I think that would describe us, in a way.”

“That was…beautiful,” Bucky had a furrowed expression as he took in what Steve said, his hands letting the water rinse out the remaining soap along Steve’s hair. They stared at each other in somber silence before Steve spoke. 

“And what about the part where they say we can kiss, to seal our marriage or whatever it means?” Steve smiled as his arms closed around Bucky’s neck. 

“Oh, you mean like this?” Bucky leaned down, kissing Steve’s pretty wet lips as his hands dropped to his lean waist, hip bones giving him a place to grip onto. The kiss was needy, stifled moans and sharp inhales—but it was slow. Steve pulled away. 

“That kiss doesn’t seem appropriate for a crowd of people,” he giggled, subtly licking his lips while he stared up at Bucky. 

“As far as I’m concerned, we’re the only people in the room,” Bucky leaned back in—this time more aggressive, closing his lips across Steve’s top lip, nipping at his sensitive skin. Steve could feel Bucky’s cock on his upper thigh and hip, given his leg was stood right between both of Bucky’s. Their lips kept sucking at one another, Bucky desperately slipping his tongue through the wetness that sat comfortably on their skin. Steve felt himself getting hard. 

“Mm…Buck—Bucky,” he started trying to say, but Bucky wouldn’t let up. “B—Bucky, please,” Steve pushed Bucky back enough where his lips parted from Steve’s, but their faces were still close. With a shallow breath, Bucky spoke. 

“What is it, baby?” 

“We just,” Steve started to giggle a little bit, “we shouldn’t waste any water.”

Bucky exhaled into a laugh as he closed his lips back on Steve’s moving his back against the wall. Bucky had him pinned against the tile as they continued to string their saliva from each other's mouths, and his hand trailed down Steve’s bony body til he reached his dick. His hand wrapped around the shaft of Steve’s cock and he began to stroke him—Steve miserably pinned against the wall as his moans escaped into Bucky’s mouth. 

“Mmmn,” Steve mumbled, trying to remain content. 

“It’s okay, baby, you can let it out,” Bucky spoke into his ear, encouraging him to open his mouth. Steve did—his lips parted and his eyes fell into a more intense squint, brows furrowed inward at the sensitivity as Bucky fucked his hand over his cock. Bucky didn’t fumble the strokes—he kept them rhythmic, and long—reaching himself across Steve’s whole length every time. His kisses continued to stamp patterns across Steve’s face and neck, momentarily escaping words into his ear, telling him he’s doing a good job, how pretty he is, how cute his moans were. All of this was getting Steve to the point that he’d been anticipating all day—the point where he got to release his cum. It didn’t matter how, he just needed to—and…he did. His fluid began to leak out for a moment before shooting out and hitting Bucky’s upper leg, the both of them looking down and watching it happen as Steve took deep loud breaths. 

“I…definitely let it out,” Steve laughed at the release. 

“Good boy,” Bucky kissed his forehead before leaning over to turn off the shower, stepping out and drying himself off. 

“W—what? You’re not gonna fuck me?” Steve said in a surprised tone. 

“I am,” Bucky responded, “just not in the shower—can’t waste water, remember?” 

“Oh, hahaha,” Steve felt embarrassed at his exclamation of desperation.

“Let’s go,” Bucky walked over to the tub and put his towel over Steve, quickly patting him down before scooping him up into his arms. 

“Oh wow,” Steve began kicking his feet as they hung freely through the air, excited for what was to come. His grip was tight around Bucky’s neck, holding himself close to him. Bucky placed him onto the bed, laying down the towel flat next to him. Steve observed the set up before asking, “how do you want me?”

“Lay down on your back—on the towel,” Bucky said with a soft smile.

“Like this?” Steve had his knees turned inward a little, crossing over each other in a way that suggested innocence. 

“Just like that,” Bucky bit his lip as he crawled onto the bed from the end of it, coming up between Steve’s legs—opening them as he made his way up. Bucky’s hands found their ways to the back of Steve’s knees, holding them apart as he settled his body between his legs. Bucky leaned down on top of Steve, releasing his legs and cradling his head—kissing him. 

“Mm…Bucky,” Steve spoke between the kisses as Bucky grinded on top of him—Steve could feel his heavy cock caressing his own. He started moving his own hips up and down, their bodies creating a rhythmic dance while their lips came to match the same tune. 

“You want me?” Bucky spoke breathlessly. 

“Yes…I need you—put it in me, Bucky,” Steve pleaded through their kisses, gripping tight onto Bucky’s back and shoulders. 

“Mm’kay, baby,” Bucky leaned back up onto his knees, quickly going to push out his precum onto Steve’s asshole. He figured their hot shower had just opened him up a little, and he would do the rest. He placed his tip at Steve’s entrance and began pushing in, holding Steve’s legs apart as the pressure ensued. 

“Oh—my god!”  Steve always reacted like he’d never felt anything like it before—who was Bucky to know that it did feel unreal every time and it was something a person couldn’t get used to? He’s never had anyone in his ass, it was a foreign experience. He trusted that Steve wasn’t acting for him, though—and that’s what put him in awe every time. Steve was genuinely feeling. 

“I’ve been thinkin’ about fuckin’ you like this for far too long,” Bucky said as he slid in and out, letting them get slippery as he watched. He did this until he felt it was time to progress how he really wanted—and it blew Steve’s mind. Bucky began to propel himself forward, pushing Steve’s legs back with him until his legs naturally fell onto Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky was holding himself above Steve’s face with his arms cradled around him and his body stretched down the bed. This position had elevated Steve’s lower back off of the bed—he was about to get wrecked—completely, and utterly fucking ruined. 

As he felt Bucky begin to push in and pull out, he realized that this angle was directly hitting his prostate…each and every time. It made his mind go blank, his pupils were blown, his mouth hung slightly open escaping moans every time Bucky relentlessly pounded into him. Bucky just stared down at him as this happened, watching his face intently as he noticed sweat occasionally dripping off of him and kissing Steve’s pretty skin. Bucky felt euphoria, seeing what his own actions did to Steve—how he’d completely lost himself in time, in lust. 

“Stevie…Stevie,” Bucky began speaking to him, slowing his strokes. He watched Steve attempt to undo his crosseyes—he kissed him softly across the face, “baby…you okay, baby?”

“Mm—mnn Buckyyy,” Steve mumbled, breaking out of his daze. 

“Stevie, you okay? You feel good?” Bucky had stopped his strokes at this point, making sure Steve was okay before he continued. He spoke softly, with a hint of concern in his voice. 

“Feel…soo—good, don’t, mmmnn—don’t want you, to stop,” Steve started poorly attempting to move his own ass up and down onto Bucky’s cock, desperately trying to feel him deep as his body came to realize the penetration had stopped. 

“Stevie, I just wanted to make sure,” Bucky said in surprise—slightly giggling. He quickly gathered his bearings to continue pounding Steve. 

“Fuck me—so deep, go deep…please,” Steve whined impatiently. 

“I will baby, right now, okay?” Bucky kissed him softly on his face as he picked up his pacing, going fast and deep. 

“Mm’kayy,” Steve could barely respond as his body processed the stimulation, “yeesss—like that…fuck me.”

“This what you wanted, baby?” Bucky panted with his mouth hung open and heavy breaths as his skin clapped against Steve’s. 

“Yes!”

“You like it when I fuck you like this?”

“Yes…I—I love it!”

“You feel so fuckin’ good around my cock, so tight…”

“Mmmmnnn…”

“Your asshole was fuckin’ made for me, you understand? Stevie, you hear? Only I get to touch you like this—to fuckin’ breed you like this—only me, you hear?” Bucky’s aggression always manifested eventually, and now was the time. He’d taken Steve’s jaw firmly in his hand while he said this, fucking him hard all the while. 

“Yes…Bu—cky—on—ly…yo-you,” Steve attempted between every stroke, barely keeping his eyes open as his lashes fluttered when Bucky’s cock would massage his prostate. Steve felt his cheeks getting wet—on his face. He realized he was crying, the stimulation was so strong that he was experiencing an emotional release in more ways than one. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re crying,” Bucky panted as he desperately began to wipe his tears, but he didn’t stop fucking him—he hardly ever could. 

“M—I’m okay…keep, keep going,” Steve cried out. 

“I wadn’t gonna stop, Stevie,” Bucky bit Steve’s lip as he continued to rail into him. This was it…these long strokes. This was going to get him there. He wanted it to last longer, but he couldn’t—not with this position. This was so intimate, and Steve’s tears only brought Bucky further into his daze of I’m going to cum. He wanted every last drop inside of Steve. When Steve’s legs started shaking on top of his shoulders and he cried out with pleasure, Bucky immediately felt himself release. 

“I’M CUMMING—FUCK! FUCK….fuck FUCK fuck…god, ughhh,” Bucky harmonized with Steve’s cries as if they were a symphony. He felt himself pump into Steve and lose all ambition to move. Bucky leaned up enough to let Steve’s legs fall from his shoulders before he collapsed back down on top of Steve, and the two laid there for another moment in time, reveling in the sex. 

Steve groaned when his legs fell from Bucky’s shoulders. He was definitely going to be sore from this—but that’s okay. He wanted this. He liked feeling as though Bucky left his mark, in more ways than just bites and bruises. This was something he’d feel anytime he’d move, and that was a beautiful thing to him. Pieces of Bucky, wherever he goes. 

When Bucky felt he had enough in him, he lifted his head and kissed Steve quickly, hearing the click of their lips touch and depart. He did this a couple more times, slow and steady, before muttering words that would change everything—words that conveyed an emotion in a way that Bucky wasn’t sure he ever could. 

“Stevie…,” Bucky kissed him again, “baby.”

“Bucky,” Steve smiled up at him, teeth showing and all as Bucky still continued to kiss at him. 

“I’m with you…til’ the end of the line.”

Chapter Text

Time went on like this for a while. The two men would go out together, enjoying themselves publicly in the spring weather until the summer weather came. This felt like a moment of calm, before the storm. They both felt it in their own ways—how one day, this will all fall apart. 

Steve hadn’t felt the same since Bucky said those words, I’m with you til’ the end of the line. In their time, in their life, the line felt like an impending doom that would find its way to them eventually, and then that would be it. Thoughts like these also consumed Bucky, despite him being the one who said it. Again, Steve felt this too, but he was more content in the fact that Bucky had said it—this blanket statement that implied everything he’d needed to get through this, whatever this was. 

Sex became a normal thing for them, but the aggression never subsided. They kept their rhythm, where Bucky always found his way inside of Steve, whether he was on top or Steve was riding him. They were comfortable with this, and would engage often, like when Bucky was home from work, or when they’d wake up on a peaceful morning together. Sure, sex was still a form of release for them individually, but it was no doubt becoming a more complicated thing between the both of them. It was intimate in a way that neither of them knew how to address—their words would never falter. 

Bucky was consistent in calling Steve baby, reassuring him all the while—he would persist on how he wanted Steve to feel good, how this sex was about him and not about Bucky getting his fix. Steve on the other hand felt the opposite, where he wanted Bucky to use him in all ways he knew how just to get himself there. It was this unspoken act between the both of them, where they’d have sex not for themselves, but for each other. It was a shared experience, a bond that only they had come to know. 

It was difficult to coexist in public sometimes, both of them would notice. How touching each other, even nudging their shoulders felt risky—but it was all in their heads. Even around Robbie, now that they would get out and see people, they were so careful. That was the most suffocating part of all of this—having to put on an act, where they couldn’t really be themselves until their doors were closed and their blinds were drawn. It was the hardest part, but neither one of them would address it. They’d complain when they’d get home, how it was so hard not to kiss you all day but that’s as far as they’d go—the most they’d acknowledge. 

Time passed comfortably, though. Despite all of their hardships and complications, this wasn’t the end of their world. They felt as though they may have been at the peak of it, and they were okay with that. The peak may last longer than they know. 

In a late summer afternoon where the air was becoming brisk, indicating that fall was just around the corner, Steve and Bucky found themselves hanging with their normal group of Robbie, and a few of the others Bucky would often work with. 

“I can’t believe you’re gettin’ married, Robbie! All this time hearin’ you complain about how you were gonna propose and ya finally fuckin’ did it!” Bucky and the guys were patting Robbie on the back, all shouting cheers around the pub as their glasses sporadically raised through the air. 

“Never thought I’d be the last brother in my family to do it, I’m the oldest!” Robbie laughed as he poked fun at his late blooming. Robbie was 22, which was pushing it for marriage around this age. This made Bucky roll his eyes, sitting there in his big age of 25. 

“Least you ain’t like me and Steve, mid 20s and cold beds,” Bucky patted Steve’s shoulders and the other guys joined in a laugh. Steve and Bucky laughed a little extra hard at that, but no one would question it.

As the night died down, so did the chatter that echoed through the pub—and the table dwindled down to three. It was always this trio at the end of their hangouts. Steve, Bucky, and Robbie. 

“So what got you callin’ James ‘Bucky’ anyway?” Robbie gave a little kick at Steve’s shoe, changing the direction of whatever they’d been rambling about. 

“Hahaha,” Steve giggled before he began to explain, “back when we were kids, I found out that Buck’s middle name was ‘Buchanan’ and I liked how long it was, thought I heard some kind of nickname within it—Buc, Buck, then came Bucky. Just kind of stuck, I rarely say James anymore, not since we were little,” Steve smiled over at Bucky as they recalled their times on the playground. 

“I’ll never forget when you first said it, I wadn’t the biggest fan at first but Steve seemed to like it and who could say no to this guy,” Bucky joked, but he meant it. 

“Awee, what a great story! God, you guys are lucky to have each other, man. Not everyone gets someone the way you two have each other,” Robbie took a sip of his beer before setting down his empty glass, “hate to break the moment, but I should get goin’ home.”

“Of course, us too, anyway. You stay safe now, Robbie. I’ll see ya’ tomorrow, right?” Bucky and Steve began to shuffle around as they got up to head home. 

“I’m not sure, depends on my lady. Might not come in for a day or two!” Robbie clicked his tongue as he winked at them before making his way for the door. 

“Good seeing you, Robbie!” Steve shouted hoping he’d hear it in time. 

“Always a pleasure!” Robbie yelled back. 

“And then there were two,” Bucky giggled as they also made their way to the door, “let’s get outta here.”

“It’s a beautiful night, still a little light out and it’s past 9:00,” Steve said as their shoes kicked rocks on the street towards home. 

“You sure that ain’t just the city lights?”

“Please, Buck—just look at the damn sky yourself,” Steve shoved his shoulder with his own, poking fun at Bucky’s silly attempt to sound stupid. 

“I’m just messin’ with you!”

“I know,” Steve stared at Bucky for a moment too long until he stumbled on a rock, tripping into Bucky who caught him in a shuffle. The two were immediately laughing, holding each other up as they regained their balance—unaware at how comfortable their hands looked on each other. 

“You two some kind of faggots?” A distant voice came echoing through the bricks that lined their street. Steve and Bucky quickly scanned their surroundings, letting go of each other in the process. 

“Come on, Steve. Let’s just keep walking,” Bucky seemed to shy away quickly, never looking for a fight. Steve, however, stayed vigilant, looking around with squinting eyes and white knuckles. Before Bucky could even start walking, Steve spotted the guy who’d said that to them—because this guy was running at him, grabbing his small body as he took him into the alley. 

“STEVE!” Bucky wasted no time, sprinting after Steve as he saw him slam into the concrete with this strange man on top of him. Bucky hit this guy hard in the back of his head before he fell to his own knees, barely able to process that there were more of them, and this was a trap. Bucky felt boots and knuckles tear through his skin, shouting while he cradled his head, completely unable to break free and help Steve. He heard Steve screaming, those awful screams that he knows he’s sung too many times before. 

Steve was always advised to just run whenever those people would call him specific names, like faggot, but it was impossible for him to really run from a fight. He never ran—despite his statistical inability to win. Mentally, he was a fighter, and would act as such in any situation. Bucky was the opposite. He never wanted to fight, but he would when he needed to—because he could. His build, his frame and height, it all came to his advantage when he was in a situation like this. But this time? With as many as five men beating on him as two others pounded on Steve? They were both helpless. The most that they could do was wait it out, until these goons ran off into their dark corners of the city. 

And that’s exactly what happened. When they felt satisfied with the beating they dealt, they trickled off back where they came from. Bucky groaned as he caught his breath, unable to assess the damage until he could see Steve breathing. He crawled over to Steve, whose eyes were closed and chest was rising ever so slightly. 

“Steve!” Bucky cried out, quietly, “Steve, wake up, please,” he began shaking him—“Fuck, fuck me,” Bucky sighed before picking Steve up like a baby, using all of the adrenaline he had left to carry him home. In the city that never sleeps, it was impossible not to get seen in this condition—but it was also the city that minds their own fuckin’ business. He just hoped he didn’t pass by anybody that he knew. He wouldn’t know, though, since he kept his head down the entire time. The paranoia of it all, and constantly checking if Steve would wake. 

They finally made it into the apartment, and Bucky exhaustedly laid Steve onto the couch, locking the door and shutting the blinds. Bucky began to tear off his clothing, like he was disgusted to have it on his skin. He was spiraling, crying maniacally and didn’t even realize it until he was looking at himself in the bathroom mirror. This made him stop, realizing how hysterical he looked. He’d never been touched like this before, beat up like this—he’d never felt so helpless. This was the first time he experienced what Steve grew up experiencing, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. 

Bucky stripped down to his socks and pants, grabbing a wet cloth to clean his cuts and go back to check on Steve. Steve was conscious now, sitting up on the couch and drinking a glass of water he’d gotten himself. His shirt was off, too, revealing all of the new bruises making their way onto his body, accompanied by broken skin that was dripping blood. 

“Steve…,” Bucky sighed as he stared at him from the bedroom doorway.

“Just…don’t,” Steve sighed back, “I don’t even know what to say.”

“That’s…never fuckin’ happened to me before,” Bucky broke into tears again at this confession, one that Steve was already well aware of, “I’ve never been that fuckin’ violated before, Steve. I’ve never been beat up like that, let alone by five fuckin’ men, I mean, what the fuck?” He was crying in the doorway, weakly punching at the door frame as his tears fell and his anger processed. 

“I’m sorry…it’s because of me, really,” Steve felt guilty, for the first time ever. He knew it’s because Bucky was seen with him specifically, and from how they were holding on to each other when he’d tripped. 

“How?” Bucky cried out with confusion, as if Steve was ridiculous for saying such a thing. 

“You know how. I can’t exist without people already thinking I’m…you know, gay, and the way I was touching on you…I…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—I’d never mean to—,” Steve started crying too. 

“Steve,” Bucky cried back. They both stayed in their respective bubbles in the home, crying while they felt their feelings. 

“I fuck—fucking knew the guy, too! Th-the one that was on top of me,” Steve sobbed, “‘cause he’s beat on me before!” This made Bucky sick—the thought of some frequent fliers who just like to beat on other men for the hell of it, so much so that Steve could actually recognize him as that guy from that other time. 

“Fuck,” Bucky continued crying as he walked over to Steve with gritted teeth, sharp inhales with each step, “I’m so sorry, Stevie.”

“Shut up,” Steve shied away, turning from Bucky as he closed in on him. Bucky sat next to him on the couch, anyway. 

“Don’t do that,” Bucky scoffed, “like we’re not both hurting,” he spoke as he placed the cloth on the laceration in Steve’s abdomen, where he was bleeding. Steve winced before looking over at Bucky, who had red eyes and puffy cheeks. He couldn’t help but think Bucky looked cute like this, despite the intensity of everything. 

“I’m so…so sorry,” Steve sobbed harder as he leaned in and side hugged around Bucky’s body, crying into his chest despite all of the cuts. Bucky cried harder at this embrace, pulling Steve into him even though it hurt. 

“I…,” Bucky began sobbing heavily as his breaths shortened and his ribs vibrated, “I can’t picture my life like this.”

Steve squeezed tighter as the words rang through his head. This felt like that impending doom he was always so concerned about—that moment of saying something out loud that he’d rather not hear, and not consider. From Bucky’s mouth, his scrambled mind—these moments of doubt were bound. They’d gone a while without them…Steve knew it wouldn’t last. 

“Bucky…please,” Steve began to violently sob into Bucky’s body as the two remained in their embrace. He didn’t even know what he was pleading for—silence? Maybe he didn’t want Bucky to keep talking, falling down that rabbit hole of thought. It’s a domino effect with him. 

“Get off me, fuck—god damn it,” Bucky’s voice shook as he pushed Steve out of the embrace. Standing up, he paced as his hands ran roughly through his hair and across his face, clawing at himself so as to stop his tears. Steve watched him spiral and it made him cry harder, panicked and short of breath—it was becoming dangerous. 

“S—stop it! Please!” Steve sobbed, trying to stop himself from being a witness to Bucky’s own demise. 

“I fuckin’ hate this, Steve—wh-why couldn’t this be different?” Bucky had his head against the wall at this point and he threw his fist into it as he defeatedly sighed, “I wish you were a fuckin’ girl…”

“Bucky…,” and that’s all it took. Steve let out a cry he’d never heard from himself before, the most ruined and helpless he’s ever sounded. He clutched at his chest after feeling an actual strain on his heart, and the breath in his lungs felt as if it’d just disappeared. He tried to inhale, but it was like he was frozen in time. I wish you were a girl—it just kept repeating and it’s all he could hear, everything else had gone silent. Steve instinctively grabbed at his throat before falling off of the couch onto his knees, “…I can’t fucking breathe!”

Bucky turned to see Steve miserable on the floor, bruised and broken, weak gasps as he struggled to breathe, blatantly losing his air. 

“Oh my god, Steve!” He immediately ran into Steve’s bedroom to grab his medical kit where he kept his epinephrine shots for his asthma, that he rarely ever had to use. Bucky ran back into the living room where he saw Steve convulsing in a fetal position, knees planted into the floorboards. He pulled the shot from the kit and propped himself behind Steve, holding him as he quickly put the injection into Steve’s thigh where he understood it was the most effective. He’d never had to actually administer this to Steve, but he was familiar with the process—he had to be. 

Immediately, Steve felt himself able to breathe more and he unraveled into Bucky, who collapsed back in front of the couch on the floor with Steve between his legs. Steve rolled back into Bucky as he caught his breath and winced at the adjustments. They stayed like this for a minute, catching their breaths. Bucky was holding Steve, his arms were wrapped around him loosely. 

“Breathe with me, okay?” Bucky spoke softly, but with an essence of teary eyes and a stuffy nose. He began to take deep breaths, allowing Steve to pace himself until they were in tune with one another. This helped Bucky come to relax too, which was something both of them were struggling with. Their hums and breaths became the only sound the room knew as they sat there for several minutes, silence being their best friend. 

Bucky didn’t let go of Steve despite how much he wanted to. He wanted to let go because it was too much for him. So close to somebody he can’t have and that was breaking him. It was tearing him apart, making him go insane. He was addicted to Steve. 

Steve was still thinking about it—I wish you were a girl—as if that’d change everything…as if Bucky would marry him and share his life with him—it made him sick, honestly. How was all of that so subtly implied and Bucky still can’t bring himself to just admit it? Just SAY the words. It ate Steve alive, how all of this was so obvious but somehow so far away. He was so in love with Bucky, and he couldn’t do a fucking thing about it. He was SO in love…so deeply…in…

“LOVE!—I’m in love with you, Bucky,” Steve broke their silence with his soft, powerless voice, “and it’s fucking killing me.”

“Steve…don’t say that,” Bucky felt his heart skip a beat and his breath shorten, but kept his arms around Steve all the same. 

“Stop it—fuck, just, stop avoiding our fucking reality—you know what this is, you know how I feel!” Steve started crying…again. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bucky’s voice cracked…yeah, okay. He felt his throat get tighter, and his face get hot. He didn’t even realize his arms started to squeeze Steve tighter. 

“Bucky, fucking let go of me—I can’t do this,” Steve’s eyes were like waterworks, and he felt his body go limp at his weak attempt pulling Bucky’s arms off from him. He gripped onto Bucky’s wrists and exhaled with his cries, “please, Bucky, please, I can’t do this!”

His cries echoed through the room and Bucky felt like he was standing on the outside, looking at the misery that circled the two of them. This misery crawled its way through their eyes, their skin, their teeth…it was filling within both of them and Bucky was just watching in horror, completely paralyzed, unable to do anything at all. 

Steve continued sobbing as he weakly clawed at Bucky’s arms, his cries were long and drawn out with big, sharp inhales after each one. Steve felt in pain, but almost comforted at Bucky’s touch. Almost. It mostly killed him, like he was saying. All he knew how to do was cry, it’s the only thing his body was letting him do. So…he just kept crying, and crying…and crying—all the while, Bucky was still holding him in shock as they both sat on the ground, unable to see each other’s faces. 

As minutes slipped away, Steve’s cries got softer. The quiet of the room filled Bucky’s head, and he was finally able to speak. He blinked, and he loosened his arms, freeing Steve as they fell to his sides. 

“I’m so…sorry…,” Bucky spoke in a monotone, staring at the floor beside him. Steve sat up and turned around for the first time in what felt like forever, on his knees staring at Bucky. Bucky weakly, with squinted eyes and a furrowed expression moved his gaze up to Steve. Steve’s eyes were so red and glossy, and his cheeks were wet with tears. The way his eyelashes were clumped together, darker because they were damp. He was beautiful like this, beautiful in all of this misery. 

As they stared at each other, nervous expressions and silence between…Bucky’s mouth started moving before he could process it. 

“Come here,” his voice was broken, soft and desperate. Steve sighed in a shared sense of desperation as he crawled forward, cupping his hands around Bucky’s face and kissing him softly—but quickly. Their lips glued together like they were cut from the same cloth, just completing the puzzle. Bucky’s hands wrapped along Steve’s body, pulling him into the embrace. 

Steve didn’t even know what he was doing at this point, falling deeper into their kisses, losing his mind in a way that separated his pain from this pleasure. He was burying himself in it—in Bucky. He’d think about when this is over, what’s going to happen between them but then Bucky would move his hands down, low on Steve’s hips, and he’d lose these thoughts. And it kept happening…anytime Steve worried, Bucky did something that stopped it…like undoing Steve’s pants. 

Bucky kept doing this, frantically feeling around as his eyes were closed and his lips were busy. Their breaths were shaking and broken between kisses. When Bucky felt Steve’s pants were loose, he pushed Steve off of him and quickly stood up, pulling Steve up with him. While they went up, Steve’s pants went down—along with his boxers next. Bucky didn’t waste any time as he grabbed Steve’s shoulders and pushed him over to the couch, where he landed on his stomach with his ass facing up. Bucky crawled on top of him. 

Their moves were quick and their breaths were loud—but they…were silent. Words didn’t have room in here, for once. Steve couldn’t understand the tone of the room. It was aggressive…yeah, but what’s new? It was desperate…maybe it was painful. Maybe this was the kind of sex that expressed love, in a hateful way. It started to feel like that when Bucky began to shove himself inside of Steve’s unprepared asshole. Fuck. 

Bucky had undone his pants and belt just enough to pull his cock out while Steve’s thoughts were spiraling—but he was laying there patiently, at least it looked that way. His fists were balled up and his teeth were gritted, but Bucky wasn’t paying attention. When he began to push himself inside of Steve, he collapsed the rest of his body onto him, where his chest was on Steve’s back. It was a matter of moving his hips now—up and down, slow at first, how Steve liked it. 

He was panting into Steve’s ear, his arm wrapped around Steve’s shoulders and neck, keeping his head up while he began to fuck him. Steve cried out every time Bucky had pushed himself deeper into him, but it didn’t matter—they both wanted this. The pain was just part of this pleasure, one could not exist without the other. As Bucky pounded into him faster, thrusting his hips back to the ceiling and back down into Steve, he was grunting—squeezing tighter at Steve’s throat.

Steve’s eyes were crossing, feeling asphyxiation creep up on him. He clawed at Bucky’s arm whimpering all the while, in hopes to signal some kind of struggle. It worked, enough for Bucky to release his grip just a little bit, still fucking him into the couch. This went on for several minutes, silence echoed through the room aside from their pants, grunts, and Steve’s whimpers as Bucky drilled his asshole. It was a kind of…anomaly. This was the first time they were having sex where it was completely silent—where words did not have room between them. It scared Steve in a way where he wasn’t sure what came after. And Bucky? He was scared too.

When Bucky finished, his body convulsing on top of Steve, he laid there for a moment on top of him as they both caught their breaths. Beaten, bloodied, and broken…what an eventful fucking night. Bucky got himself off of Steve without leaving a kiss on his back, or shoulder, or fucking anywhere like he usually would after a brutal fuck. There was always at least some kind of romance, a “cherry on top” sort of bandaid to close off their exchange—but not this time. Instead, he got up and buckled his pants, adjusting them to look untouched, and then grabbed his button up shirt off of the floor. As he put it on, he avoided looking at Steve who had turned onto his side, clearly in pain and discomfort, observing Bucky as he paced around the room.

Bucky was collecting his things…like, as if he was about to go. And that’s exactly what he did. Steve watched him the whole time as he walked to the door, cleared his throat as he tied his shoes, and then closed the door hard behind him. Just like that, he was gone, and neither of them said a fucking word.