Hopefully this is the kind of thing you wanted, OP.
“You got shares in KY? Let’s get this show on the road, Stevie.”
Steve just shot him that sheepish smile and tossed the bottle onto the side.
Bucky supposed it was endearing, in a kind of sweet way. No, it was. Steve was very careful. Very, very careful. Had been from the second they’d started exploring each other again.
And that was nice, not exactly unexpected, but nice.
Always took the time to make sure Bucky was ready. To make sure he wouldn’t hurt him.
Which was largely the fucking problem, cos that was a lost cause right there.
He knew he oughta go and see someone, some doctor or something, but the thought of walking into some surgery and stripping off kinda made him want to tear his own skin off. So that was out, for the foreseeable.
And Steve’s ever so freakin careful prep was the opposite of helpful. Seriously.
There was something broken inside him, that much was abundantly clear. And all of Steve’s lube and his hesitant fingers? Well, that just prolonged the feeling that all his nerves were on fire, that he was burning from the inside out.
He’d taken to thinking of it as kinda like a mission (and wasn’t that just fucked up?). It was always gonna be godawful from his end, and Steve gently fingering him open was doing absolutely nothing to help that, or to achieve the primary goal.
So get the fuck on with it already, Stevie.
He grinned at Steve, who was rubbing at the back of his knee, watching him intently. “Come down here.”
Steve smiled, and crawled over him with carefully placed limbs, until he could snatch a kiss. It was light, not leading anywhere, and Bucky could read what Steve was saying without words. They could stop here. They didn’t have to go any further.
But no way was Bucky gonna listen to Steve trying to jerk off silently in the bathroom. Not again.
He caught Steve’s lip between his teeth, just tugged slightly. “Come on. I’m ready.”
“Alright.”
Steve deepened the kiss, dropped a hand to beneath his hips to tug him upwards, and then he pushed right in. Bucky couldn’t stop the gasp, but he guessed that was ok, that was normal. Nothing to hint at the sandpaper scrape way up inside him.
He kissed Steve harder, biting just a little, to distract him, to distract himself, because Christ, even though he knew there was enough slick between them that it was dripping out onto the sheets underneath him, it felt like Steve was goin in dry.
Steve stopped, waiting for him to get used to the intrusion, but it was never gonna happen. He just wanted it over.
“Move.”
If Steve gave a doubtful click of his tongue, it wasn’t enough to stop him. He set a slow, deep pace. It was like getting reamed with broken glass.
Nevertheless, the second Steve brushed over that place inside him, his already vaguely interested cock sprang to attention like it’d been trained into him, (which, to be fair, it could have been). And there was something deep in the back of his mind, that remembered the feeling, the ghost of what pleasure felt like, and wanted to get there again.
It was a small part, mostly drowned out by the bit of his brain screaming at him to push Steve off.
Steve’s movement faltered, then he stopped entirely, which, frankly, was so much fucking worse. “Buck?”
“’M good. Keep goin.”
Without even the little sparks of pleasure, the ache of pins and needles deep up inside him was unbearable.
A hand on his hip, a silent prelude of the reassurances that were coming. Steve’s too blue eyes drawn in concern.
Bucky cut him off. “Jesus. Come on, Stevie. Don’t leave me hangin.”
There was a long, long pause. “Ok.”
Steve started moving again, but it was interminably gentle and slow and fucking infuriating. Hitting nothing but fried out nerves.
Bucky let out a frustrated grunt.
“Come on.”
He pushed at Steve’s shoulder to get him to lean up, kept his legs tight around his waist while they shifted position because no way in hell was he starting all over again. With a bit of manoeuvring, he managed to get enough leverage to be able to set a pace that might actually see Steve finish at some point in the next week.
Steve let out a punched-out gasp and buried his face into his throat, so that he could feel each breath, hushed in the quiet of the room.
He knew his silence was unnerving. At the very start of all this, Steve had found it so off putting that he kept asking if he was ok every thirty seconds, making the whole thing that much more of an ordeal.
Steve had eventually seemed to decide, and Bucky had not corrected him, that it must be some kind of latent conditioning, and accepted it as part of their new normal. He didn’t bring it up anymore.
There were a lot of things he didn’t bring up.
Of course, the real reason was that Bucky didn’t think he could fake that. Wouldn’t be able to keep the edge of stress and pain out of his voice.
And then there’d be questions and Steve’s goddamn puppy face and neither one of them would manage to get off.
Little involuntary noises started escaping Steve, right in his ear, little things that were trying to be words, and overwhelmingly he felt a surge of affection. Because this was why he was doing this. This was why he would put up with it all. Because Steve gasping out his name like that was worth everything.
He picked up the pace, and a little flicker of pleasure began to edge above the burning.
And he wanted it. He wanted it so fucking bad.
Steve was panting something out but it either wasn’t words or Bucky was too busy fighting to keep concentration to figure it out.
It was too much, far, far too much and his own orgasm felt too far off to be bothered with. Too difficult to get to.
Bucky felt Steve’s hand drop down, brush against the base of his cock. Bucky slapped his hand away, and earned an apologetic nip at his throat. But it didn’t matter, if he was forgetting shit like that, then it meant that Steve was real, real close.
Then it would be over.
Even as he thought that he felt Steve tense, the burst of warmth inside him which almost made it worth the getting here. He held Steve up, letting him catch his breath, murmur words and kisses into his neck.
Bucky stroked into the back of his hair and told himself this was worth it.
Re: Collateral [1/?]
“You got shares in KY? Let’s get this show on the road, Stevie.”
Steve just shot him that sheepish smile and tossed the bottle onto the side.
Bucky supposed it was endearing, in a kind of sweet way. No, it was. Steve was very careful. Very, very careful. Had been from the second they’d started exploring each other again.
And that was nice, not exactly unexpected, but nice.
Always took the time to make sure Bucky was ready. To make sure he wouldn’t hurt him.
Which was largely the fucking problem, cos that was a lost cause right there.
He knew he oughta go and see someone, some doctor or something, but the thought of walking into some surgery and stripping off kinda made him want to tear his own skin off. So that was out, for the foreseeable.
And Steve’s ever so freakin careful prep was the opposite of helpful. Seriously.
There was something broken inside him, that much was abundantly clear. And all of Steve’s lube and his hesitant fingers? Well, that just prolonged the feeling that all his nerves were on fire, that he was burning from the inside out.
He’d taken to thinking of it as kinda like a mission (and wasn’t that just fucked up?). It was always gonna be godawful from his end, and Steve gently fingering him open was doing absolutely nothing to help that, or to achieve the primary goal.
So get the fuck on with it already, Stevie.
He grinned at Steve, who was rubbing at the back of his knee, watching him intently. “Come down here.”
Steve smiled, and crawled over him with carefully placed limbs, until he could snatch a kiss. It was light, not leading anywhere, and Bucky could read what Steve was saying without words. They could stop here. They didn’t have to go any further.
But no way was Bucky gonna listen to Steve trying to jerk off silently in the bathroom. Not again.
He caught Steve’s lip between his teeth, just tugged slightly. “Come on. I’m ready.”
“Alright.”
Steve deepened the kiss, dropped a hand to beneath his hips to tug him upwards, and then he pushed right in. Bucky couldn’t stop the gasp, but he guessed that was ok, that was normal. Nothing to hint at the sandpaper scrape way up inside him.
He kissed Steve harder, biting just a little, to distract him, to distract himself, because Christ, even though he knew there was enough slick between them that it was dripping out onto the sheets underneath him, it felt like Steve was goin in dry.
Steve stopped, waiting for him to get used to the intrusion, but it was never gonna happen. He just wanted it over.
“Move.”
If Steve gave a doubtful click of his tongue, it wasn’t enough to stop him. He set a slow, deep pace. It was like getting reamed with broken glass.
Nevertheless, the second Steve brushed over that place inside him, his already vaguely interested cock sprang to attention like it’d been trained into him, (which, to be fair, it could have been). And there was something deep in the back of his mind, that remembered the feeling, the ghost of what pleasure felt like, and wanted to get there again.
It was a small part, mostly drowned out by the bit of his brain screaming at him to push Steve off.
Steve’s movement faltered, then he stopped entirely, which, frankly, was so much fucking worse. “Buck?”
“’M good. Keep goin.”
Without even the little sparks of pleasure, the ache of pins and needles deep up inside him was unbearable.
A hand on his hip, a silent prelude of the reassurances that were coming. Steve’s too blue eyes drawn in concern.
Bucky cut him off. “Jesus. Come on, Stevie. Don’t leave me hangin.”
There was a long, long pause. “Ok.”
Steve started moving again, but it was interminably gentle and slow and fucking infuriating. Hitting nothing but fried out nerves.
Bucky let out a frustrated grunt.
“Come on.”
He pushed at Steve’s shoulder to get him to lean up, kept his legs tight around his waist while they shifted position because no way in hell was he starting all over again. With a bit of manoeuvring, he managed to get enough leverage to be able to set a pace that might actually see Steve finish at some point in the next week.
Steve let out a punched-out gasp and buried his face into his throat, so that he could feel each breath, hushed in the quiet of the room.
He knew his silence was unnerving. At the very start of all this, Steve had found it so off putting that he kept asking if he was ok every thirty seconds, making the whole thing that much more of an ordeal.
Steve had eventually seemed to decide, and Bucky had not corrected him, that it must be some kind of latent conditioning, and accepted it as part of their new normal. He didn’t bring it up anymore.
There were a lot of things he didn’t bring up.
Of course, the real reason was that Bucky didn’t think he could fake that. Wouldn’t be able to keep the edge of stress and pain out of his voice.
And then there’d be questions and Steve’s goddamn puppy face and neither one of them would manage to get off.
Little involuntary noises started escaping Steve, right in his ear, little things that were trying to be words, and overwhelmingly he felt a surge of affection. Because this was why he was doing this. This was why he would put up with it all. Because Steve gasping out his name like that was worth everything.
He picked up the pace, and a little flicker of pleasure began to edge above the burning.
And he wanted it. He wanted it so fucking bad.
Steve was panting something out but it either wasn’t words or Bucky was too busy fighting to keep concentration to figure it out.
It was too much, far, far too much and his own orgasm felt too far off to be bothered with. Too difficult to get to.
Bucky felt Steve’s hand drop down, brush against the base of his cock. Bucky slapped his hand away, and earned an apologetic nip at his throat. But it didn’t matter, if he was forgetting shit like that, then it meant that Steve was real, real close.
Then it would be over.
Even as he thought that he felt Steve tense, the burst of warmth inside him which almost made it worth the getting here. He held Steve up, letting him catch his breath, murmur words and kisses into his neck.
Bucky stroked into the back of his hair and told himself this was worth it.