Glad people are liking this so far! I'm thinking there'll be 5 or so parts.
Oh, and I promise there'll be some plot in there somewhere!
Steve leaned back, all flushed and messy haired. “Sorry.”
For a second, Bucky didn’t have a clue what he was talking about, then he caught the glance downwards.
Ah, Stevie, always a fucking gentleman.
“Don’t matter.” Bucky kissed him. “I don’t mind.”
He could feel Steve’s hand against his hip, so he deepened the kiss in the hope Steve might lose interest. Of course, that wasn’t doin a whole lot to help him lose interest.
Steve was pushing him back on to the bed, kissing down his throat. “Buck, lemme-“
“No.”
Steve sat up, bit his lip. “I’m sorry I forgot. I won’t touch you there. I promise. I know-“
“Stevie.”
“Yeah?”
Christ, he was so sweet. Really, it should be illegal.
Bucky smiled, caught his hand, pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “It’s fine, really.”
Steve grinned, relieved. He ran his hands up and down Bucky’s ribs, in a way that was clearly meant to be seductive, but which landed squarely in cute. “Well, let me make it up to you then.”
He couldn’t say no.
Well, he could, clearly. There was no one he trusted more than Steve. There were times when Steve hadn’t touched him for days because he’d said no, not even to let their hands brush. He’d never made a thing of it, come back without a word when Bucky had opened his arms.
But here, in this setting, in their own bed, Steve would ask questions, and there was no answer Bucky could think to give that wouldn’t result in Steve’s face crumpling.
He couldn’t bear it, couldn’t bear that look on his face. Not ever, but certainly not when he was the one to put it there.
So he just smiled. “Sure thing, Stevie.”
Steve grinned and hitched his way back to sit between Bucky’s legs, the same way they’d started all this. He felt the press of his fingers, and something about the very recent memory of what it felt like had him tensing automatically.
Steve dipped his head to run kisses up the inside of his leg. “Let me in, baby.”
He made himself concentrate on the scuff of Steve’s stubble at the top of his thigh, the warmth of his tongue. He let himself slip back years, to when the window frame rattled in the wind, and this would’ve been the highlight of his day.
He felt Steve breach him, for the briefest of seconds it was like it would’ve been all those years ago. Then the burn started.
He couldn’t help the grunt, knew Steve must have felt him tense.
He forced a laugh. “You got some magic fingers, buddy.”
He cringed internally that that cheesy shit was the best he could come up with, but whatever, it had the desired effect. Steve huffed a laugh and went right back at it.
It was marginally better once Steve found his mark.
He felt it again. Buried under everything else. He wanted this.
But he didn’t know if he could. He couldn’t chase the feeling, not when he was so over sensitive from having Steve inside him before. Something Steve was brushing was sending little twinges up his spine and that was killing any chance he had of finishing.
What was worse was that Steve could tell he wasn’t into it, could see it in his face, in the little line that had appeared between his brows.
Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, cos that was gonna be the final nail in the coffin. “Stevie?”
The kiss to the hip was a question.
“I need… more. Need you.”
Another kiss. And Steve plunged another finger in, which wasn’t exactly what he meant but had the desired effect. His flagging erection perked up at the added pressure.
He groaned, and it was just the wrong side of pained, but he didn’t think he could keep it in if Steve kept goin like that. He turned his head and bit into the flesh of his wrist. Was pretty damn certain his other hand was ripping at the sheets.
Steve was murmuring something, probably some ineffective attempt at bedroom talk, but it didn’t matter, Bucky couldn’t concentrate on that. Not when the confusing fire burn was whiting out his brain. It felt like the crackle of tasers, the smell of ozone, but it was also the heat deep in his gut.
He wanted…
Wanted to kick Steve off and curl into a ball.
Wanted more of him. As much as possible.
He bit harder into his arm, tasted copper, and that was a bright white crescendo above everything else. As long as he focussed on that, the searing up inside him faded away.
He was moving now, Steve having to press into his hip to keep him where he wanted him. He was pretty sure he was crying, warm tear tracks down his temple, but the sharp pain in his arm was keeping him present, focussed on the end game.
He wouldn’t stop now if the world was fucking ending. Not after all it had taken to get this far.
He panted into his arm as he came, feeling like he was burning up from the inside out.
And holy Christ was it worth it.
*** He was pressed up against Steve’s side when he woke up, arm flung lazily over his stomach. Could feel Steve brushing lightly over the hair at the back of his neck, and the phantom ache inside him, almost like years ago.
Steve had dragged the sheets over them while he’d been zonked.
He shifted slightly, hummed to let Steve know he was awake, and smiled as Steve pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “Sap.”
“Yep.” Steve’s hand drifted to his arm, running up and down the skin.
“Do you..?”
“Mmm?”
Steve brushed his thumb over the inside of his wrist. “Do you get off on this?”
His tone was very carefully non-judgemental.
Bucky opened his eyes to look at the little ring of pink indents. The skin had already healed over. By morning there’d be nothing there.
He sat up, so he could straddle Steve’s lap. “I get off on you.”
Steve laughed. “Your lines are worse now than in 1938.”
“Got you in the sack, didn’t it?”
Steve grinned and kissed him, trailed down his throat. “I never needed any lines.”
However long he’d been asleep had been enough to get Stevie back in the game. Bucky could already feel his interest beginning to stir again.
He sighed into Steve’s kisses. He was tired, and he felt a little sick.
But he sat back anyway, flashed the brightest smile he could manage, raised an eyebrow. “So, ready to go again, cowboy?”
Re: Collateral [2/?]
Oh, and I promise there'll be some plot in there somewhere!
Steve leaned back, all flushed and messy haired. “Sorry.”
For a second, Bucky didn’t have a clue what he was talking about, then he caught the glance downwards.
Ah, Stevie, always a fucking gentleman.
“Don’t matter.” Bucky kissed him. “I don’t mind.”
He could feel Steve’s hand against his hip, so he deepened the kiss in the hope Steve might lose interest. Of course, that wasn’t doin a whole lot to help him lose interest.
Steve was pushing him back on to the bed, kissing down his throat.
“Buck, lemme-“
“No.”
Steve sat up, bit his lip. “I’m sorry I forgot. I won’t touch you there. I promise. I know-“
“Stevie.”
“Yeah?”
Christ, he was so sweet. Really, it should be illegal.
Bucky smiled, caught his hand, pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “It’s fine, really.”
Steve grinned, relieved. He ran his hands up and down Bucky’s ribs, in a way that was clearly meant to be seductive, but which landed squarely in cute. “Well, let me make it up to you then.”
He couldn’t say no.
Well, he could, clearly. There was no one he trusted more than Steve. There were times when Steve hadn’t touched him for days because he’d said no, not even to let their hands brush. He’d never made a thing of it, come back without a word when Bucky had opened his arms.
But here, in this setting, in their own bed, Steve would ask questions, and there was no answer Bucky could think to give that wouldn’t result in Steve’s face crumpling.
He couldn’t bear it, couldn’t bear that look on his face. Not ever, but certainly not when he was the one to put it there.
So he just smiled. “Sure thing, Stevie.”
Steve grinned and hitched his way back to sit between Bucky’s legs, the same way they’d started all this. He felt the press of his fingers, and something about the very recent memory of what it felt like had him tensing automatically.
Steve dipped his head to run kisses up the inside of his leg. “Let me in, baby.”
He made himself concentrate on the scuff of Steve’s stubble at the top of his thigh, the warmth of his tongue. He let himself slip back years, to when the window frame rattled in the wind, and this would’ve been the highlight of his day.
He felt Steve breach him, for the briefest of seconds it was like it would’ve been all those years ago. Then the burn started.
He couldn’t help the grunt, knew Steve must have felt him tense.
He forced a laugh. “You got some magic fingers, buddy.”
He cringed internally that that cheesy shit was the best he could come up with, but whatever, it had the desired effect. Steve huffed a laugh and went right back at it.
It was marginally better once Steve found his mark.
He felt it again. Buried under everything else. He wanted this.
But he didn’t know if he could. He couldn’t chase the feeling, not when he was so over sensitive from having Steve inside him before. Something Steve was brushing was sending little twinges up his spine and that was killing any chance he had of finishing.
What was worse was that Steve could tell he wasn’t into it, could see it in his face, in the little line that had appeared between his brows.
Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, cos that was gonna be the final nail in the coffin. “Stevie?”
The kiss to the hip was a question.
“I need… more. Need you.”
Another kiss. And Steve plunged another finger in, which wasn’t exactly what he meant but had the desired effect. His flagging erection perked up at the added pressure.
He groaned, and it was just the wrong side of pained, but he didn’t think he could keep it in if Steve kept goin like that. He turned his head and bit into the flesh of his wrist. Was pretty damn certain his other hand was ripping at the sheets.
Steve was murmuring something, probably some ineffective attempt at bedroom talk, but it didn’t matter, Bucky couldn’t concentrate on that. Not when the confusing fire burn was whiting out his brain. It felt like the crackle of tasers, the smell of ozone, but it was also the heat deep in his gut.
He wanted…
Wanted to kick Steve off and curl into a ball.
Wanted more of him. As much as possible.
He bit harder into his arm, tasted copper, and that was a bright white crescendo above everything else. As long as he focussed on that, the searing up inside him faded away.
He was moving now, Steve having to press into his hip to keep him where he wanted him. He was pretty sure he was crying, warm tear tracks down his temple, but the sharp pain in his arm was keeping him present, focussed on the end game.
He wouldn’t stop now if the world was fucking ending. Not after all it had taken to get this far.
He panted into his arm as he came, feeling like he was burning up from the inside out.
And holy Christ was it worth it.
***
He was pressed up against Steve’s side when he woke up, arm flung lazily over his stomach. Could feel Steve brushing lightly over the hair at the back of his neck, and the phantom ache inside him, almost like years ago.
Steve had dragged the sheets over them while he’d been zonked.
He shifted slightly, hummed to let Steve know he was awake, and smiled as Steve pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “Sap.”
“Yep.” Steve’s hand drifted to his arm, running up and down the skin.
“Do you..?”
“Mmm?”
Steve brushed his thumb over the inside of his wrist. “Do you get off on this?”
His tone was very carefully non-judgemental.
Bucky opened his eyes to look at the little ring of pink indents. The skin had already healed over. By morning there’d be nothing there.
He sat up, so he could straddle Steve’s lap. “I get off on you.”
Steve laughed. “Your lines are worse now than in 1938.”
“Got you in the sack, didn’t it?”
Steve grinned and kissed him, trailed down his throat. “I never needed any lines.”
However long he’d been asleep had been enough to get Stevie back in the game. Bucky could already feel his interest beginning to stir again.
He sighed into Steve’s kisses. He was tired, and he felt a little sick.
But he sat back anyway, flashed the brightest smile he could manage, raised an eyebrow. “So, ready to go again, cowboy?”