After dinner one night, Steve said, "There's a present for you in the bedroom." He'd left the pretty little bag on Bucky's nightstand, tufts of colored tissue paper peeking from the top. Bucky looked over inquiringly from where he was drying the last of the dishes. "I hope you like it."

Bucky, who knew an order when he heard one, put away the plate he was holding and padded over to the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He didn't come out for a long time.

*

Steve had to give him credit for trying. "Let me," he'd said, the first time, pressing his hard body invitingly against Steve's. "I want to."

With one hand, lightly, he'd caressed Bucky's tousled head. "Are you su—"

Bucky pulled away. He said, "Don't you dare."

Steve slapped him. "Watch your mouth." Bucky's hand flew to his cheek in shock. Steve raised his hand again and watched him flinch.

"I'm sorry!" Bucky said quickly.

"For?"

"Interrupting."

"And?"

He had to think about it. "Moving? While you were touching me."

Steve said, "Good." He reached for Bucky, who held still, and stroked his hair just as gently as before. Then he tangled his fist in it and dragged him in until their foreheads touched. "I was going to ask," Steve said, "are you suggesting that it matters?"

"What?" said Bucky, having rather lost the thread. Steve gave him a little shake, enough to make him wince. "Ow."

"You said, you want to. Do you really think that's relevant?"

"Oh," Bucky said, and grinned right up against Steve's mouth. "I guess not. No."

"No," Steve confirmed, and kissed him.

Which was fine, until Bucky was bent over with his wrists pinned at the small of his back, his face pressed to the mattress, his dick hard and leaking in Steve's practiced grip. Until Steve teased two slick fingers against his hole and Bucky went rigid under him like he could stop what Steve was doing by stopping his own movement, his own breath.

*

The next time, Steve laid him out on his back, so Bucky could see his face, in case that helped. It didn't.

*

The time after that, Steve said, "Why don't we try something else?"

Bucky was still shaking. "You quitting on me, Rogers?"

"I'm sorry," Steve said. "I don't know what I was thinking. You're obviously only good for one thing. Even Hydra figured out that much."

"Right," Bucky said.

"And like this, you're no good at all. How long am I supposed to keep you around, when I can't use you properly?"

"I have bad news," Bucky said.

"Uh-oh," Steve said. "Don't tell me I'm stuck with you?"

Bucky shifted, putting space between their bodies in the bed. Steve, who would have liked very much to hold him, knew better than to try. "Like the devil in a corner."

"Well," Steve said, considering. "That's all right. It's wasteful, anyway, getting rid of broken things. Not when you can fix them."

*

"Comfortable?" Steve said, when Bucky emerged from the bedroom, walking carefully.

Bucky made a face. "Not exactly."

"It shouldn't hurt," Steve said. "It shouldn't pinch, or—"

Bucky said, "It's fine."

"Okay," Steve said. "So. Want to try that again?" Bucky rolled his eyes. "Do you like your present?"

"It's great."

Steve had beaten him for insolence, weeks ago now, and Bucky had suffered it like an animal, uncomprehending. "And?"

"Thank you."

Steve smiled. "You're very welcome."

*

When they were getting ready for bed, Steve said, "What are you doing."

Bucky looked up, a pair of sweatpants in his hands. "What?"

"You don't need those," Steve said. "What if I want you in the night? I'm supposed to undress you?"

Bucky flushed a little. They'd both been sleeping safely clothed.

Steve sighed. "Relax. We've pretty well established that your virtue, such as it is, is safe with me. But, on principle. You sleep in my bed, you should be available for my use."

"Okay," Bucky said, but the color stayed high in his cheeks as he stripped and climbed naked into bed, giving Steve his first look at the steel cage locked snugly around his balls, sheathing his cock.

"That looks good on you," Steve said, dropping his own jeans and boxers in the hamper. He saw that Bucky had set both keys, sweetly, on the dresser next to Steve's wallet.

Bucky mashed his face into the pillow. "Ugh," he said. "My dick's been trying to get hard since I put the damn thing on. There's nowhere for it to go."

Steve laughed, and slid into bed beside him. "Better get used to it." Bucky made no move to curl against him, shy, Steve thought, of their bare skin, of the threat of Steve's body. "You'll keep a key with you, of course, in case of emergency."

"Have a lot of dick-related emergencies, do you?"

Steve stretched comfortably, and reached down to circle a lazy first around his own cock. "You know, I think I might be having one now."

"Hey," Bucky said.

"I told you, calm down." He stroked himself slowly, luxuriating in the gentle friction, and thought about Bucky's soft cock straining hopelessly at the confines of its metal cage. "I'm not fucking you again until you beg me." However long that took. "But I'm not hiding in the bathroom to jerk off anymore, either. This is my house."

"I know my brain got electrocuted and everything," said Bucky, who'd handled most of the paperwork, "but I don't think that's what tenancy by the entirety means."

Steve said, "I'll beat you again."

"You should," Bucky said. "I know you liked that. I kissed your hands, afterward." He had, in relief. In gratitude. He'd kissed Steve's face, too, when he caught sight of it, a creature comforting its poor sad god.

"Consider," Steve said, "that one of us is going to come tonight, while the other one stays locked up and horny. So. Whose apartment is it?"

"Yours."

Steve worked his hand faster. "And whose bed?"

"Yours."

"And whose fucked up, useless toy is that, cowering over there like a virgin, not even offering a hand or a mouth or a slutty hole to take my load?"

"Ugh," Bucky said, succinctly.

"That's okay," Steve said. "Take all the time you need. I won't force you."

"Gosh," Bucky said. "Thanks."

"The cage stays on, of course." Precome welled from the tip of his cock, and he smeared it slickly over the sensitive head, groaning a little with pleasure. "Until I'm balls deep in your ass. Which can be whenever you like. No rush."

"Which one of us," Bucky said, sounding slightly breathless, "are you trying to embarrass? Because it's working."

"That's good," Steve said. "Keep talking. See if I don't find something else for you to do with that smart mouth." They'd tried it once, abortively, after which the threat never failed to make Bucky hard. "Did I say I wouldn't force you? I must have forgotten"—Steve bucked his hips, fucking into his fist—"how irritating you get, without a cock in you." Although, Steve realized, his information was out of date. He pictured a faceless Hydra goon shoving Bucky to his knees, gloved fingers digging into his jaw. Open up, slut. They'd probably raped his throat as often as they had his ass—more often, really, despite how he hated it— "Nngh," Steve said, and came.

"I have it on reliable authority," Bucky said, "that I can be fairly irritating, even with—"

"Oh, my god," Steve said. "Shut up."

Bucky said, "You know, I think I'm ready now. Balls deep, right? Come on, get over here."

Helplessly, Steve started to laugh. "Your timing. Is impeccable as always."

Bucky rolled onto his back with a little sigh of frustration. "How am I supposed to sleep like this? I want to come."

"You want to come now," Steve said, "think how you're going to feel in a week. Two weeks. A month."

"Fuck," Bucky said. "I am so fucked."

"So it would appear." Steve yawned. His limbs felt pleasantly heavy. "Feel free to wake me up with a nice blow job in the morning. Assuming you're better at it than you used to be."

Steve smiled in the dark, to hear him startled into laughter. "Because of all my recent practice, you mean? Oh, yeah. I can do things with my tongue you won't believe."

"In that case," Steve said, "you can wake me up with a blow job every morning. Consider it a standing order."

"You got it, baby," Bucky said.

*

Steve woke to the sound of the shower, and dragged the covers over his head, curling for a few more decadent minutes into the bed's warmth. Then he got up and knocked on the bathroom door.

Bucky called, "I'm in the shower."

Steve raised his own voice to be heard. "I know. Can I come in?"

A moment of silence. Then: "Yeah, okay."

Steve pushed the door open, inhaling a wave of steam. Through the clear shower curtain he saw Bucky watching him, his arms deliberately loose at his sides, looking self-conscious and incipiently pissed off about it. Steve tugged the curtain aside and stepped in, crowding into Bucky's space until he managed to duck his own head under the hot spray.

"Good morning," Steve said.

"Morning," Bucky said. "Do you mind?"

Steve kissed him between his wary eyes, and again on the point of his nose. "Not in the least. How did you sleep?"

"Badly," said Bucky, who was not a morning person. He stepped back, and gestured indignantly at his crotch. "This is ridiculous."

"Aw," Steve said. "Is it frustrating? Poor thing. Here, let me see."

"What," Bucky said, as Steve slipped to his knees. "Steve."

"Hush," Steve said. "Hold still." He'd done his research, had tried the device on himself first. None of that prepared him for the sight of Bucky's thick cock constrained by the gleaming metal. He toyed with the little padlock that secured it, and stroked a fingertip over the head of Bucky's cock where it peeked from the sheath.

"Ah," Bucky said.

"They make sounds to go with it," Steve said, still caressing the sensitive cockhead. "Do you know what that means? Little metal rods, to stuff up your piss hole. Would you like that? Having your cock fucked?"

"No," Bucky said. His cock twitched, fattening under Steve's touch, swelling against the cage. It looked painful.

"No," Steve said, turning his attention to Bucky's heavy balls, rolling them gently in his palm. "I might like it, though. I might decide it's just what you deserve, for disobeying a direct order."

"Me?" Bucky said, innocently. "I'd never."

"Really? What did I tell you I wanted this morning."

Bucky laughed, remembering. Steve squeezed his balls, turning it into a groan. "Aw fuck, Steve. My—my mouth."

Steve said, "Bingo."

"Come on," Bucky said. "You weren't serious."

"Well, maybe you're right." Steve kissed his thigh. "Maybe I was confused. Maybe that's my job, not yours." He opened his mouth, and closed it softly around the tip of Bucky's cock, tasting metal and clean skin.

"Oh, no," Bucky said. "That's—Steve, don't."

Steve sucked gently, working his tongue against the swollen flesh, before pulling off. "Hush," he said again. "Be good."

"Unh," Bucky said, despairingly, as Steve mouthed at the cage, kissing the steel, teasing the exposed skin. Opening wide, he took Bucky in, cage and all, until his lips touched the ring at the base. The stretch made saliva pool in his mouth, and he swallowed convulsively, tearing another sound of frustrated want from behind Bucky's clenched teeth. He sucked firmly, thoroughly, until Bucky rocked his hips, chasing the maddening pleasure that held no possibility of relief. "Stop it," Bucky said. "Stop. Take it off."

Steve sat back on his heels to look up at him. His own cock was achingly hard between his legs. "Sure. If you're ready?"

Bucky hesitated for a long moment, the water falling on his shoulders, spilling down his broad chest. Reluctantly, he shook his head.

Steve got to his feet. "All right. Turn around and bend over."

Bucky squinted at him. "I said no."

"Duly noted. Do what you're told."

Slowly, Bucky turned his back to Steve. Steve pushed down on the nape of his neck, until Bucky gave in and braced himself with both hands against the wall. He cupped Bucky's ass appreciatively, leaning into him so that Bucky could feel how hard he was. "Buck," he said. "Are you listening to me?"

It was a while before Bucky answered. "Yes."

He parted Bucky's cheeks to expose the tight pucker of his hole, and traced a finger over it, feeling it clench under the touch. A shudder rippled through Bucky's shoulders. "You're fine," Steve said.

Bucky said nothing. Steve replaced his hand with his cock, sliding wetly against Bucky's ass, the fat head catching briefly on the rim of his hole. Against the tiles, the nails of Bucky's human hand were white. "It's fine," Steve said again. "It's okay." He eased back, and rocked smoothly forward, rutting against him. He stroked the long line of Bucky's back, bent in unwilling submission.

"Please," Bucky said. "Don't."

"I won't. I'm not." Steve soothed him again, even as he increased the pace of his movements, working his cock against Bucky's tender skin. "Pay attention. Does this hurt?"

"No." Which might or might not have been an answer. Enough, Steve thought, and took himself in hand, jerking his cock hard until he came, the hot spurts marking Bucky like a conquest.

Remembering the previous times, Steve made himself step back, giving him space. "You're done," he said, his voice not entirely even. "Clean yourself up. I'm making breakfast."