By all measures except one, Bucky and Steve's relationship was going great. They both kept busy during the day -- Steve had more meetings with Avengers, and Bucky had more meetings with doctors. But no matter how busy they got, they made sure to eat dinner together. It was one of those couples things -- Bucky's uncle and aunt did that, and their relationship worked out much better than Bucky's parents'. And on the nights when Bucky wasn't joining Steve at some Stark event, Bucky got to cook. Of the two of them, Steve had always been the perfunctory eater, and Bucky grew up in a household where cooking was strictly the women's job. But it's the 21st century, and after the years of tube feeding, being able to cook and eat food was one of the first things made Bucky feel more human than weapon.

So honestly, things were pretty good, except for The Sex Problem. Steve refused to call it a problem, but that's what it was. Ever since that first date, they've settled into a routine where Bucky'd kiss and play with Steve's torso until the smell of Steve's pre-cum turned Bucky's stomach. Then he'd go get a drink of water and took deep calming breaths while listening to Steve jerk himself off in the other room.

Steve's said that's enough for him, but dammit, it's not enough for Bucky. He loved Steve. He wanted to be the one who could get Steve to come. He wanted to be the one who caused those moans of orgasm and release. He shouldn't have to be in the other room trying to avoid a panic attack. Bucky's pretty sure that counts as a Sex Problem.

But tonight as he waited for the curry to boil down, Bucky had a thought. The crux of the problem wasn't that he'd have horrifying flashbacks during sex, but that those flashback were completely debilitating. In those moments, he was only good for staying rigid and shaking. Guaranteed boner killer. But what if he could maneuver Steve into fucking him from behind before he got triggered? All he had to do in that position was stay still anyway, and this way, Bucky could get Steve to come, flashbacks and all. Then it'd no longer be a Sex Problem, just a Debilitating Flashback Problem, and Bucky knows how to deal with those.

The plan almost works. At least, what he could remember of it. After dinner, Bucky and Steve did their usual fooling around, and this time, instead of leaving the room, Bucky'd turned around, pulled down his pants, and wiggled his ass as seductively as he could. "C'mere Steve, enough of that. I wanna try something new. I want you inside me."

"Bucky, you sure about this?" Bucky managed to hear Steve's hesitation as he fought down the nausea of having his balls suddenly exposed and vulnerable. Not now, he told himself. Not yet.

"Damn right I am. C'mon!" He hoped that the gritting of his teeth translated as horny desperation. It probably did, since the last thing he clearly remembered as he buried his head in a soft pillow was the feeling of Steve's hard cock against his ass.

Then he could feel fingers stretching him. And things besides fingers -- hard metal things, things that stung and cut and left splinters. There was a cold gentle touch of lube? But probably just old cum leaking out. Or his blood. Sometimes they got creative when they got bored of the usual. How many cocks had he taken that night? He'd lost count. Or maybe he hadn't even started counting. It didn't matter -- the only thing he could do was wait for it to be over.

It was the smell of oranges that brought him back. Bucky gingerly flipped around and leaned on the headboard. Steve was peeling an orange next to him, fully clothed.

Bucky sighed. "Fuck. It didn't work."

Steve stopped peeling his orange long enough to hand Bucky a cup of water from his side of the bed. Bucky suddenly realized how thirsty he was. Judging by the dampness of his pillow, he probably lost a lot of water.

"I think it worked just fine" Steve's voice was dry. Shit. "First I was confused why you kept making mumbling noises. Then when you didn't respond I was worried that I was hurting you. When I figured out I'd triggered you again I hated myself for not catching on until I'd nearly put it in you. And panicked because you weren't coming back no matter what I did. Then I was angry at you for telling me that you wanted this when you clearly didn't. And now.... I'm just tired." Steve handed Bucky half of the orange without looking at him. "Any other emotion you wanted me to feel in the last hour? Or were you hoping I'd be turned on by fucking my boyfriend into a catatonic state?"

The orange slices tasted bitter in Bucky's mouth but he forced himself to swallow. It was a welcome distraction to what he had to say. "Please, Steve. Y'gotta understand. That wasn't what I wanted ..."

"Then what *did* you want, Bucky? You wanted to be triggered? You wanted to trick me into fucking you when you clearly didn't want it? Did you think I'd enjoy *any* of that?"

Steve's voice was half-accusatory and half-perplexed. So Bucky held onto the one fact that he knew was true. "I ... But I *do* want you to fuck me."

"Well, your body clearly didn't." Steve bit back.

"So? I'm fucking tired of letting this body dictate everything." Bucky clawed at at his arm. "If I go for more than 4 hours without sufficient caloric intake my arm starts drawing energy directly from my fat reserves. If I sleep on my right side it puts too much pressure on my heart." It felt good to say these things out loud for once. "I can't touch myself without wanting to throw up. I can't even smell, much less touch your cock without triggering flashbacks." Bucky wished he could rip out the part of his brain that was doing this. "But I fucking WANT to. I want to feel your cum inside me. I want to suck your cock and have you suck mine. Hell, I just want to be able to jerk you off." Bucky tilted his head back to keep tears out of his eyes. "I can eat food now, why can't I have sex?" He hoped those desires weren't as insurmountable as they felt right then.

"The last days of a flu are the worst, Bucky." Steve said gently, and Bucky remembered saying that to Steve when they were kids. Mrs. Rogers would be at work, and Steve bedridden from one of the many illnesses that seemed to afflict him. It was one thing when Steve was coughing up blood, but once he was on the mend -- it was all Bucky could do to convince Steve to stay in bed on more day.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." It felt good to think of this problem as the result of all the progress he's made in recovery. He was Bucky Barnes, not the Winter Soldier, and he's made it this far. "I'm sorry, Steve. I shouldn't have tricked you -- that was all my fault. I just thought... well, it's my problem, and I should be able to handle it."

"Bucky, we're in a RELATIONSHIP. If we're going to make sex work, we have to do it together. I'm sorry I didn't get it when you called it a problem before, but now that I do..." Steve turned to face Bucky with a look of determination. "We will keep at this -- there's lots of things to try, and we can try all of them. Just... promise to tap out before it gets this bad, okay?"

Steve always looked so cute when he saw a problem to tackle, and Bucky knew there was no stopping him when he got that look -- not when he was 10 and charging at bullies, not when he was 17 and hunting for a job, and not when he was 25 and taking down HYDRA. The only thing to do was follow.

"Roger that, Captain." Bucky waved a mock salute before pulling Steve into a kiss.