hydratrashmeme | Dumpster #4: I Don't See How That's a Party

Dumpster #4: I Don't See How That's a Party

Okay, kids, you know the drill. Don't be a jerk except to fictional characters. Warn if you want, but read at your own risk, because

hydratrashmeme is about as far from a safe space as you can get. Garbage we like: noncon, whump, aftermath, violence, mind control, inappropriate uses of Bucky Barnes' metal arm, bad guys doing dirtybadwrong things to your faves. Garbage you should find a different trashcan for: a/b/o, D/s-verse, soulbonds, mundane AUs, OOC evil!good guys doing dirtybadwrong things to your faves, rotting leftovers dressed up as a romantic gourmet meal. Nothing wrong with 'em, but this isn't the crowd you should be pitching to if you're trying to sell Brock Rumlow as anything but a human dumpster fire.

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This was pretty hard to write. Hope you all like it!

They piled out of Sam’s car with a shout of thanks and little else. Steve just about caught Sam’s wry smile before Bucky was tugging at his wrist, pulling him on towards their apartment like a juggernaut.

Steve was still flushed, still full of adrenaline high, and a single glance at Bucky told him that he was exactly the same. Because it’d been close. Not the closest it’d ever been, Christ no, but still.

They’d checked in with each other on the field, in the car, running hands over limbs, checking for breaks or blood. But it hadn’t been enough, not to satisfy Steve.

Not Bucky either, by the looks of him.

No sooner had they got the door open than Bucky dragged him into a kiss. He could taste the tang of blood dried against Bucky’s lip. Felt the thrill of the dread that had settled deep in his gut.

He pulled away. “When you went down-“

“Didn’t stay down.” Bucky kissed him again, tugging at his lip, and trying to strip away the top of his suit, laughing when he couldn’t. “I’m fine.”

Steve smiled too, managed to get the suit away from his shoulders. “We oughta shower.”

Bucky clicked his tongue, dropping his jacket to the floor with a thud that said there were several weapons still secreted within it.

“Oughta be naked, Rogers. Less chit chat.”

Steve didn’t need telling twice.

Their clothes were left in a heap by the door, as Steve started walking Bucky back towards the sofa, working kisses down his throat.

Bucky huffed again. “Bedroom, champ. Slick it up.”

Steve couldn’t help but snort.

“Don’t laugh at me, punk. Tryin to get you worked up.”

Steve kissed him in apology. “It’s working, don’t worry.”

It was as well as, between the adrenaline crash and Bucky just, well, being Bucky, Steve was more worried about being able to make it as far as the bed.

He pulled away, practically dragged Bucky forward. He fumbled in the drawer at the side of their bed and by the time he turned around, Bucky was already on all fours on the comforter.

“Jesus, Buck.”

Bucky was watching him over his shoulder, smirk on his face that said he knew exactly what he was doing.

Steve got himself ready, dropped a kiss onto the small of Bucky’s back and edged a couple of fingers inside. Bucky barely needed anything, muscles still relaxed from… Christ, it must only have been that morning.

“That alright?”

He had to look up to see Bucky’s nod, stilted by his fist between his teeth. He’d taken to doing that recently.

Did it mean he was close?

Steve bit his lip and didn’t ask. Bucky didn’t like it. Less talk, more action, he’d say, and Steve had pissed him off enough at the start of all this.

Well, if he was close, that didn’t bother Steve one bit. This was definitely going to be a sprint finish.

He withdrew his fingers, and lined his cock up. He met pretty much no resistance at all.

“Oh fuck, Bucky... Jesus.”

He started moving, couldn’t help it. He tried to keep to the pace Bucky seemed to like. Harder than he usually liked it, but right now he wasn’t complaining. He was hitched up with his knee on the bed, trying to get as close as possible and being frustrated by the position.

He wanted all of Bucky. He wanted everything.

He leaned down to kiss against Bucky’s back.

And opened his eyes.

All of Bucky's muscles were taught. That wasn't odd in itself. It was often difficult to... Bucky didn't always….

But Bucky had his eyes buried in his elbow. His shoulders were shaking.
The realisation hit him all at once.

"Bucky?" He pulled back, met with a sharp gasp. "Buck?"

There wasn't any answer. Bucky just propped himself up on his elbows are kept crying into his hands.

Steve staggered back. He didn't know what to do, whether to touch him. Every instinct wanted to just gather him up, but he didn't know what this was. What had set it off.

Bucky was completely silent, just his slightly wet breaths in to give him away. His shoulders hitched and that broke through all of Steve's resolve.

He stumbled forward, climbing up onto the bed and laying a hand tentatively on his back. When he didn't flinch away, he started rubbing against Bucky's back. "What's wrong? What is it?"

Bucky just leaned into his leg. "Hurts, Stevie."

"What?"
Steve's heartrate shot up tenfold, because they must've missed something. Bucky was hurt bad. Must be hurt real bad, and it was his fault, he didn't notice. Why didn’t they see a medic? He didn't...

Steve dropped his hand to Bucky’s ribs, where the flesh was just beginning to bruise. Down onto his stomach. Bucky didn’t flinch.

"Bucky?" Steve brushed his hair back, tugged at him until he looked up. Running over the smears of blood on his face. "Did you hit your head? Where are you hurt? Buck?"

Bucky didn’t answer, just ducked his head again, hitched himself up until he was practically laying in Steve’s lap.

And a sudden awful thought entered Steve’s head. He flicked the sheet over them both, ineffectively, but enough to cover Bucky up. “Do you mean… Did I..?”

He was stroking at the back of Bucky’s neck and he felt the tension flood through him.

“It’s not you.” Bucky looked up, all apologies and red rimmed eyes.
“It’s not your… Ah, fuck. I never meant…” He dropped again, squirmed his hands beneath Steve’s back. “I’m sorry.”

Steve was automatically patting at him. “Why didn’t you stop me? Why didn’t you… Is it bad? Lemme see.”

He leaned forward and Bucky flinched. It was almost nothing. Over and gone in a heartbeat, a reflex caught and stopped.

But Steve saw it.

And he was pretty sure a little piece of him shrivelled up and died.

“But… you always… Why wouldn’t you say something?”

Bucky didn’t answer, and a sudden anger flooded through him, thinking of all those nights. And all that silence.

He pulled Bucky up. “How many times? How many times did you just lay there and let me..?”

He couldn’t finish. Couldn’t let that thought out into the air, where it’d be given substance.

Bucky looked away.

Steve felt suddenly sick. He couldn’t… He had to get out…

He shoved Bucky off, stood up.

“Stevie!” Bucky made a grab for his hand. He shrugged him off. “Stevie, please.”

He didn’t look round. Didn’t stop until he got to their bathroom and locked the door behind him.

***

He realised he’d been stood staring at the tiling for the longest time, hands pressed over his mouth. Because he should’ve known. How could he not know?

Bucky was always so quiet. He never… He thought of a thousand times when he wasn’t sure. He should’ve stopped. Why didn’t he stop?

Steve dropped his hands.

He couldn’t do this now. He felt sticky and wrong and he realised they’d never showered after the fight.

He flicked the shower on and stood beneath the stream of water, until the room misted up and his skin flushed pink.

But he couldn’t stop the whirl of thoughts. Because what kind of man..?

No. He made a deliberate effort to empty his brain. To just not think of it. Without meaning to he found himself running through Sam’s breathing exercises.

Oh.

What would Sam say? What would Sam think of him?

No. Just breathe.

Breathe.

He managed to shower. Managed to avoid just sitting under the stream of water, and by the time he walked back into their bedroom, he’d calmed down… mostly.

Bucky was curled on his side, facing away from him. He made no sign he’d heard Steve come back.

He padded across the room, and slipped in behind him. When he didn’t flinch away, Steve looped an arm over his chest and pressed his face against the back of Bucky’s neck. He smelt of old sweat and smoke, and Steve didn’t give a shit.

There was a moment’s pause before Bucky entwined their fingers, and they lay breathing.

“Are you ok?”

He felt Bucky nod. “S’alright. ‘S nothin, really.”

Steve had to stamp down the flare of anger. It wasn’t useful here. It couldn’t only ever make things worse. It was bad enough how he’d already reacted.

“Can I see?”

Bucky shrugged, the barest of movements. “Nothin to see. I told you. It wasn’t you. I’m just…”

He didn’t finish, but Steve could guessed the end. Fucked up. Broken. They’d had that conversation enough over the last few months. He thought they’d maybe got past it.

Now he doubted they ever would.

“What happened, Buck?”

Another long pause. “Please, don’t make me talk about it. I don’t want that here… Not in our bed.”

He sounded endlessly tired.

Steve kissed the back of his neck in apology.

But he had to know. Had to know one thing. He pulled him closer to his chest and Bucky came back easily. Steve tucked his chin into his shoulder.

“Were you scared I wouldn’t stay? If we didn’t… If you…” Steve’s throat closed up and effectively cut him off. He swallowed tightly.

Bucky sighed, deep and exhausted. “No, Stevie. I just wanted you. I only ever wanted you.”

Steve had to press his face into Bucky’s back, so he wouldn’t let the tears fall.

He pulled himself together and pulled back. “Do you want to shower?”

“No.”

Steve kissed into his hair, sweat damp and musty. “Ok, Buck.”

Oh shit, this is so good. I teared up and everything, well done!

Oh my goodness. This is so sad and beautiful and all the feelings Steve is dealing with. I love it. I can't wait for more.

Ooh, this is excellent!

The shower thing at the end is messing with me. I think it just highlights the continuing difference in perception. Steve went from thinking everything was fine and Bucky was enjoying himself to freaking out and blaming himself for everything he didn't know, see, or do.

Meanwhile, Bucky is so tired of trying to hide his pain when all he wants is to be able to love Steve as easily as Steve loves him without all this baggage, including the physical damage done by HYDRA. He didn't tell Steve because he didn't see the point to both of them being unhappy with their sex life. He doesn't want space from Steve, he wants comfort.

They are still not on the same page.

Which is what makes this trash delicious. Thank you for sharing it!

“He felt Bucky nod. “S’alright. ‘S nothin, really.”

Steve had to stamp down the flare of anger. It wasn’t useful here. It couldn’t only ever make things worse. It was bad enough how he’d already reacted. “

This is amazing! I love that it didn’t end with them fighting but trying to communicate.

I promise this is the last of the really depressing chapters! Thank you for all your comments!

“Are you sure?”

Steve knew they’d had this conversation about eight times today alone. But he had to be certain. Had to…

Bucky knelt up, to catch his mouth, rubbing circles into the side of his jaw. “I want you.”

“I know, but I just-“

“Stevie.”

Steve shut up, let Bucky keep kissing him. He eventually sat back, looking flushed and perfect. He cupped the back of Steve’s neck with both hands.

“I’m certain, ok?”

“It’s just it’s getting late.”

It was past midnight. The day had been much busier than they’d anticipated. They’d had to stay late for urgent meetings, which had turned out to be not so urgent after all, and then had called at the all-night diner for burgers with Nat and Clint.

So all in all Steve was regretting his promise to Bucky that morning.
Steve stroked over Bucky’s hip, trying to think of a way to pacify him.

“We’re both tired and-“

“What is it? You only want me during daylight hours, Rogers?” Bucky leaned back in, started nosing underneath his jaw. “S been too long, Stevie.”

He could hear the hurt behind it, and felt like a massive piece of shit.

“Alright.”

Bucky hummed into his neck. “Could use a little bit more enthusiasm there.”

Steve brought a hand up to lift Bucky’s chin up. “Take your jeans off.”

Bucky smirked, started shucking his clothes. “Never could resist your army voice. Now,” Steve felt his hand slip to his waistband, “you need a hand there?”

“You know- Bucky!”

Steve lost track of his words as Bucky slipped his hand inside. “I know, darlin, I got you.”

Steve forced himself to relax, let Bucky work him up. But then Bucky had always been good at that, getting him out of his own head.

By the time Bucky started kitten licking down his chest, he couldn’t believe he’d held out so long. He pulled him up so he could kiss him properly. “Lay on your back.”

A faint smirk pulled at Bucky’s lip. “I dunno, if you’re too tired…”

Steve tackled him back onto the bed.

The next few minutes were all hands and mouths and Bucky giggling and calling “Foul ball, Rogers!”.

They came to a stop, panting and laughing, Bucky grinning as he looked up at him. “Go on.”

Steve smiled and made a stretch for the bottle on the side, slicked up his fingers. He worked his way inside Bucky, Bucky relaxing to take him easily.

But now he knew about it, he couldn’t miss the intake of breath, the way the muscles tightened in his jaw.

“Buck..?”

“Keep goin.”

Bucky’s response was tight lipped, grimaced. And for the first time Steve understood. Why Bucky was so quiet, when the rest of the time you could barely shut him up.

It was to keep up the pretence. The lie that everything was fine.

Because he felt he had to lie to him.

He faltered, half pulled his fingers out, earned a dismayed grunt. “Stevie.”

“Sorry.”

He tried again. Trying to find his mark inside Bucky.

To be honest, he was flagging, and the thought of pushing inside Bucky, while he was fisting into the sheets, biting himself bloody, just to get through it?

It was too much.

Holy Christ, he’d made him cry last time. Sobbing into the fucking sheets. While he just pounded into him, like…

It was too much like…

Well, that put paid to any chance of any of that tonight. His half hard dick was giving up the ghost entirely.

He redoubled his efforts, trying to get Bucky off so they could at least end this without an argument and go to bed…

…But Bucky didn’t get off on it.

He’d confessed, once, the only time Steve had managed to get him to talk about any of it, that even the pressure of Steve’s finger was unbearable. So all this was just…

Steve sat back.

Bucky opened his eyes, lips bitten red raw with the effort of keeping from crying out.

Steve felt sick.

“Stevie?” Bucky looked confused.

“I can’t, Buck.”

There it was again, that flicker of hurt above something else, something harder, too fleeting to catch. Bucky sat up, dragged the sheet over himself and pulled his knees up to his chin.

And Steve felt awful.

He dropped a hand onto Bucky’s arm. “I’m sorry.”

Bucky pulled away, ducked his face into the crook off his elbow, said something Steve couldn’t make out.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, Buck.”

Bucky snapped up, all sudden anger. “Why not? Everybody else did. What
makes you so fucking special?”

Steve could see in an instant Bucky wished he could take it back, so he very, very purposefully let it go.

He reached out again, and this time Bucky let him. “You gotta talk to me. Please. We gotta talk about this.”

“You wanna talk? How about we talk about the fact that you’ve barely touched me in three weeks?”

Bucky’s eyes were looking distinctly wet.

“Buck-“

“Don’t do that. Don’t say ‘Buck’ like you can shut me up.” Bucky pulled back again. “Three weeks, Steve. Used goods, is that it?”

“Stop!”

The worst thing is that it was so absolutely ‘Bucky’, that it made Steve’s heart ache. Bucky had always had a wicked tongue on him when he was upset. He crafted words like barbs, until they lodged in your gut and speared you right through.

“Stop,” Steve said again, calmer this time. “Stop twistin what I’m saying.”

Bucky just ducked his head again, looking utterly defeated. “This is why I didn’t tell you.”

“It’s not that, Buck. I swear. I can’t stand it. I can’t stand hurting you. Maybe… Maybe we could try it the other way round.”

“I can’t.” Bucky spoke into his knees.

“But maybe we could-“

Bucky looked up. “Look, I can’t, ok? I can’t do it, and it’s
embarrassing. That enough sharin for you?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

At least Bucky was letting him touch him now, letting him rub circles into the back of his hand with his thumb.

Steve sighed. “It just feels too much like… Like…” He couldn’t finish.

“But it ain’t. It ain’t like that at all.” Bucky uncurled himself from where he was huddled, all earnestness. “I want you. I want you so bad, Stevie. It ain’t too late,” Steve felt his hand on his waist, was already shaking his head, even as Bucky was moving forward, “maybe we could-“

Steve pulled back. “No. Not tonight.”

“I promise you, I ain’t lying.” Bucky tugged his hand up and kissed it. “I want it, Stevie. I want you.”

Steve snatched his hand back. “Well, I don’t.”

Bucky’s face instantly went cold. “Fine.”

He snatched up one of the pillows, and stalked out, leaving Steve staring at the door as it slammed closed behind him.

He punched the mattress. Did it again for good measure, and again, until the springs squealed. He wanted rip the room apart, smash it to matchsticks, and tear himself apart with it.

He was so angry. An icy rage settled deep in his gut. He wanted to rip it all down around his ears.

He wanted to march into the other room, pick Bucky up and shake him. For refusing to discuss anything. For shooting down all of Steve’s attempts at compromise. For making everything so much fucking harder…

And then he hated himself for that. Because Bucky didn’t owe anyone a damn thing. Certainly not him.

All he’d ever done was let him down for a whole goddamn lifetime and even now, he just couldn’t stop fucking up.

He hated Hydra and everything they’d taken from them. He hated that they’d both fought and died for nothing at all. He hated that even now it wasn’t over. It was just one thing after another, and it never fucking ended.

But more than that, and most of all, he hated the entire goddamn universe that had decided this was what they got.

Neither of them had done anything to deserve any of this. Not a thing.

Steve was tired.

He was so, so achingly tired of fighting.

He pushed himself off the bed and wandered into the bathroom. Splashed some water into his face from the sink.

He stood up, watched the droplets running off his reflection and had the sudden urge the drag the mirror from the wall. To shatter it against the porcelain.

He didn’t.

He reached up instead to unhook it and took it to rest on the floor inside their closet. He shut the door on it with a click.

Bucky was laid on the sofa when he went to find him, watching some teleshopping thing with the sound down low. Steve could just about make out the frown on Bucky’s face, half hidden by his hair.

On the TV, the names of people who’d bought the limited edition items were scrolling across the bottom of the screen, while a couple with plastic smiles were gesticulating enthusiastically over some electrical appliance.

Steve watched in silence for a couple of minutes, wondering what had happened to babyjewel57 from Lafayette, Indiana, that meant she was buying a fake ruby ring at three in the morning.

He flicked his attention back to Bucky who was resolutely not reacting to his presence.

“Are you coming back to bed?”

Bucky didn’t look up. “No.”

Steve turned back into the room. Just as he was closing the door, he heard Bucky’s sigh. “It’s not fair.”

It oughta be petulant. Childish.

But it wasn’t.

It was just sad.

And Steve agreed completely.

This hurts so good!! Thank you, author anon!

I just want Steve to realize that cuddling is still on the menu...

(A!A) I promise there'll be cuddles in the next bit!

I also want there to be cuddles.
I love everything about this fic. I also love like, the duality of Bucky's hurt. It's not just that sex hurts, it's that he can't have this closeness that he wants with Steve because hurts. Like HYDRA has so thoroughly infiltrated his life and his body and his mind that he can't have this very human thing.
And just like. Come on Bucky. TALK ABOUT IT ALREADY. GAH.
But I love the way you write his argument with Steve, because he is so vicious and so hurt and so desperate and Steve just. He keeps his cool really beautifully. Like he acknowledges all his feelings and lets himself have those feels, but doesn't take it out on Bucky, and I love that because that's how relationships should be.
I cannot wait for more!

I discovered here that I'm much better at writing conflict than resolution! Anyway, here it is (with cuddling)

Bucky didn’t sleep.

Once Steve had fucked off and left him alone, he got up and found the Luckies he’d hidden from Steve in the back of one of the kitchen drawers. Laid chain smoking them until it felt more like a punishment than an indulgence.

It wasn’t fair, what he’d done to Steve.

Steve’s reaction had been normal. It was normal to be horrified.

He guessed he just forgot sometimes. Forgot how normal people would react to things. Forgot that he was so fucked up, he didn’t know what was normal.

He flicked the TV off, it was too bright, too loud with fake happiness.

He turned over and pressed his face into the back of the sofa.

He shouldn’t have pushed Steve. He’d said no, and it wasn’t-

He felt sick.

He knew what it made him, wiped his eyes angrily at the thought cos he didn’t have any right to be upset about it. Not when it was him that’d done it.

Not when he’d said such godawful things, when Steve’d been nothing but patient.

He would apologise. Wasn’t so great with words anymore, but Stevie would get it.

He hoped, anyway…

He should apologise now.

It’d got light while he was busy beating himself up. Steve liked to wake up with coffee. That’s what he’d do. He’d make coffee, the way Steve liked it, with too much sugar and no milk, and he’d apologise.
And he’d let Steve say all the things he’d refused to listen to for the past three weeks.

That thought made his stomach all twist in knots.

He didn’t want to hear it. Hear why Steve couldn’t carry on like this.
Why he didn’t want him anymore… Not in that way, anyway.

He felt absurdly that that might just kill him. That if Steve said that he’d just burn up into smoke.

But Stevie wanted to talk it out, and even if Bucky couldn’t be entirely sure, he was pretty certain he’d been giving in to what Steve wanted since about 1930.

He got up and made the coffee, took a slug of his own so hot it practically stripped the skin off the inside of his mouth, and scooped up Steve’s.

He hovered outside their bedroom door, unsure whether to knock. Did people do that? If it was their own bedroom?

Christ, he was fucking ridiculous.

He knocked, let himself in when there was no answer.

Steve was still zonked, sprawled out on his stomach with his feet tangled up in the sheets. An unhappy tension across his shoulders.

Unsurprising. Steve slept like the dead. Sam joked that the serum let him fit twenty-four hours into sixteen, and then he had to crash out to make up the difference. But the truth was he'd always been the same.
Bucky had always had to physically drag him outta bed so he wouldn’t be late for whatever work he’d managed to bullshit his way into that week.

He looked down at the coffee in his hand, feeling even more like a fucking idiot. It was, what, seven in the morning? Of course Steve wouldn’t be up. Of course he wouldn’t want to drink coffee in bed and let Bucky down easy.

He oughta leave. Maybe go out, give Steve time to think about how he wanted to do this. But the thought of leaving it, of having to wait all day to talk, made the knots in his stomach turn to lead.

Maybe it was selfish, but he wanted Steve now. Wanted whatever he could have of him.

Bucky put the coffee on the side. Steve wouldn't care, he claimed he liked it cold. Bucky thought that was bullshit, he just always kept forgetting about it when he made it.

There was a frown across Steve's face, faint lines pulling at his forehead even while he asleep.

Bucky was pretty damn sure he’d put them there.

"Stevie?"

Steve snuffled in his sleep but didn't wake up.

"Stevie, it's mornin. And I wanna talk to ya."

Steve made a definite noise of protest and trying to burrow down into the pillow.

Bucky was rubbing circles into his back. "Come on, punk."

"Nnnngh." Steve rolled back without opening his eyes, lifted an arm in an invitation. Bucky hesitated. Steve was asleep, by all rights should be still sore at him. He might not like it if…

Might not want him there at all.

“Bu'?” Steve crinkled up his nose, irritated at waiting and that just broke all of his resolve.

He slipped into the space Steve had made and Steve instantly lolled all over him like a giant cat.

Bucky let himself doze, going over his apology in his head, and then over nothing at all as Steve’s weight and warmth left no room for anything else.

Bucky was content to stay like that all day.

Eventually Steve managed to rouse himself a little, speech still all sleep slurred. "Y' came back t' bed."

"Mmhmm. ‘Bout five hours too late."

Steve kissed the back of his neck. "Y'OK?"

For a second, Bucky thought he might cry and bit his lip cos that'd derail all of this, and he wanted to apologise.

"Don't." He felt Steve sit up, his hand drop onto his shoulder, but didn't look back to meet his eyes. "Don't be nice about it."

"Bucky-"

"No. I shouldn't’ve pushed ya, Stevie. You didn't want to, and it-"

“Buck-“

“Let me talk, punk. I- I don't want to be that person. I don’t…"

Steve laid back down, snaked his hand over to clasp at Bucky's. "Jesus, Buck. Don't even think it. Don’t ever think that." He trailed off and Bucky could hear the barely contained anger in him, could just about feel it shaking in him. "You couldn’t ever-"

“You couldn’t either.”

“What?”

Bucky rolled over so he could him in the face. "That’s what you said last night, wasn’t it? You couldn’t touch me cos… Cos of that.”

Steve just looked at him, ran his eyes over his face. He dropped his head into Bucky’s shoulder “Fuck. I never meant to make you feel-”

“You didn’t.” Bucky said it instantly, even though it wasn’t true, because he couldn’t bear that look on Steve’s face. Bucky let his hand drift into Steve's hair. "I wanna talk about it."

Steve didn't answer for a long while. "Alright."

"But I don't think I can talk about... that. Not about what happened."

"OK."

"Stevie, please."

"I'm sorry." Steve pressed a kiss onto his chest, the only bit of skin he could reach without sitting up. "I want you to know that if we don't ever do that again, I'm OK with that. I don't want you to feel you have to. I don't mind if we never do it again."

Bucky felt the familiar stab of hurt. The immediate thought that Steve didn't want him anymore, not now he knew.

He stamped that down. It was him that wanted to talk. Steve was just being honest. It wasn't his fault if it wasn't what he wanted to hear.

"Bucky?"

Bucky sighed, went through a half dozen trite statements that would effectively end the discussion, then changed his mind.

He didn't want to carry this all alone anymore.

"I don't want that."

Steve leant up on his elbow, searching his face. "What do you want?"

What did he want? He wanted everything to be like it was. He wanted their tenement and their crappy day jobs, and the window pane that leaked every time it rained.

He wanted Steve on top of him, all sharp lines and bright eyes. He wanted Steve beneath him, warm and smelling like home, in the midst of all the mud and the shells.

He wanted all of that. Pressing his hand over Steve's mouth, in case he made too much noise when he came. Having to stop every time they heard footsteps on the stairs, breathing into each other’s skin, pulses thudding in their ears, waiting for the knock on the door.

He looked at Steve, still right here. Still looking at him that same damn way.

"I want to feel like we’re in it together again.”

Steve frowned. “We are.”

“Like it was. Without all this other shit in between.” He sat up, forced Steve to as well, so they were facing each other properly. He reached out to squeeze at Steve's hand. "I guess I just want you back." He shrugged. "I want myself back too."

Steve made a noise in the back of his throat. "Buck-"

“So tell me the truth, Stevie.” He was crying, he realised vaguely. “What is it you want?”

Steve leant forward and kissed him, which wasn’t really an answer.

But then again, Bucky supposed it was.

***
They manoeuvred themselves so they were sat up against the headboard, all wrapped up in each other. Steve was drawing circles against his stomach, smiling. "You've been smoking."

Bucky grinned back. "And you’re a goddamn bloodhound."

"Am I gonna have to search the house again?"

"I finished the pack. ‘Sides, you can’t find anythin for shit. Oh, and I made you coffee." He gestured over to the side.

Steve practically lit up, grabbing the mug from the side. "Perfect."

He knocked it back like it hadn’t been sat there for an hour. Bucky couldn't help but smile again.

Steve settled down again, trailing fingers up and down his side. “What did’ya mean…”

“Mmmm?”

“When you said you couldn’t… um…”

“Oh.”

Embarrassment welled up again. The need to just curl up into a ball. To sink into the fucking earth so he didn’t have to see all that pity.

But that was just stupid. It was him that just made a goddamn speech.

It felt so fragile. Like there were strands of spider silk binding them together. And he’d been trying to hold it together with his bare hands, with lies and fake smiles.

It’d only just occurred to him, that maybe it was him snapping the strands.

He caught Steve’s hand, entwined their fingers. “Umm… I can’t really feel it, so I can’t, you know… without something inside me.”

“Can’t feel it?”

“All my nerves are fucked, Stevie.”

Between the electricity and the ice, it’s a wonder they didn’t fry out his entire nervous system.

Steve made a noise, squeezed his hand tighter. “I need you to promise me somethin.”

Bucky kissed the top of his head. “Anythin.”

“If we’re gonna do this, I need you to see a doctor.” He sat up when he must have felt him tense. “I don’t mean right away, but Buck, I gotta know that I’m not hurtin you bad, ok?”

That was fair.

“Alright.”

“And I gotta know that you’ll stop me, if it’s too bad. I can’t… I just can’t…”

Bucky kissed him. “You too, punk. You gotta tell me if I’m comin on too strong.”

Steve smiled. “Never had too much problem on that count.”

“We are doin this then?”

“Course.” Steve laid back down, squirmed his arms around his waist. “I ain’t gonna leave my best guy cold.”

Bucky smiled.

“I mean it, Buck.” Steve said it in that tone that no one in their right mind would argue with. “We’ll figure it out.”

yaaaaay cuddles! omg sleepy cuddles are the best!

and yay working through it! Oh Bucky and his self-worth issues....

Thanks for the update! <3 <3 <3

So this whole thing kinda got away from me a bit, but it is finished! Hope you enjoy!

Bucky could feel the tremble of Steve’s thigh beneath his hand, so he slowed his pace. Pulled back so he could just lap at the head of Steve’s cock.

He earned a strangled groan in return, a “Bucky, fuck.”

He pulled off entirely, kept the rhythm going with his hand as his kissed up the soft skin of the inside of his thigh. “I know, darlin, I got you.”

He didn’t make him wait any longer, took him back in fully and it was barely thirty seconds before he was pulsing down his throat.

He sat back, with a grin. “Told you.”

“I know.” Steve’s skin was flushed, all the way up his chest and neck. He was breathing heavily. “I know you did. Oh Christ.”

“You gonna bet me again?”

Steve could only shake his head.

“Good.”

“How many times was that?”

“Like, five. You’re a machine, Rogers.” Bucky crawled up around him, until he could kiss him.

“You aren’t bad your-“ Steve made a noise of disgust at the taste of himself, and Bucky didn’t give a fuck.

He kissed him once more and then settled down so he could trail his fingers across Steve’s chest, as he waited for Steve to get his breath back.

Steve started laughing, loose and quiet.

Bucky smiled. “You keep going like that you’re gonna hurt my feelings.”

“You remember that time we came back from that bar, I musta been about nineteen? Was it somebody’s birthday?”

Bucky thought about it for a second, tracing patterns against his skin. “You mean that time I fell over tryin to get my pants off and you blew your load before I even managed to touch you?”

He could feel Steve shaking underneath him and looked up to check that they hadn’t flicked over from hilarity into tears... They were both prone to that now.

But no, Steve was fine, laughing into his hand. “It was not our finest hour.”

“I dunno, pal, you seemed to think I was pretty sexy.”

“You crawled across the floor towards me, Buck. In your underwear. I call foul.”

Bucky laid back down. “I still think somebody dosed me.”

“Yeah, yeah, cos ‘you only had one’.”

He remembered that, laying on top of Steve, crushing him probably, and just repeatedly slurring into his neck ‘I swear it, Stevie. Was only one. S’mebody slipped me a mickie. I’m tellin ya.’

“Oh God.” He buried his face into Steve. “Hydra couldn’t take that one, huh?”

Steve didn’t laugh.

Bucky cast about for a change of subject. “It was Larry. His birthday, I mean. You know, that guy from Illinois? I forget his last name.”

As soon as it was out of his mouth, he regretted it, but Steve just hummed, wrapped his arms around his back. “I don’t think you ever knew his last name. You didn’t like him much.”

“Hmmm. Bet it was him who dosed me.”

That startled a laugh out of Steve. “Why would he possibly do that?”

Bucky pushed himself up, so he could straddle Steve and kiss him properly. “Cos I’m fucking red hot.”

He swallowed Steve’s laugh, deepened the kiss when he felt Steve’s hands on his waist.

He pulled back as Steve hooked a thumb beneath his waistband. That was as close as they’d got since that night.

Steve was smiling. He didn’t move his hand. “You know, I probably got one more in me. If you wanted.”

Bucky tried not to let his face show anything. Not relief or nerves, in case it was wrong. In case it put Steve off.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded emphatically. “We’ve talked about it and talked about it. I want to make you happy.”

“You always make me happy.”

“Sap.”

“Jerk.”

He saw the flicker pass across Steve’s face the second before Steve surged upwards to roll them and pin him to the bed. Alternately kissing and nipping at his throat.

Bucky felt heat flood downwards. Christ, he wanted him so bad.

Steve had definitely noticed that a certain part of his anatomy was starting to take an interest. “I want to make you feel good.”

Bucky knew it burned at him. Steve had tried every possible way to get him off without hurting him. But there was no way. And every failure made them both feel like shit, even though that was just fucking stupid.

He oughta feel lucky, wasn’t often Steve gave up on anything.

But no, he didn’t oughta think that way.

This whole thing was about Steve getting his own head straight, and working his own way through a whole heap of shit that he hadn’t let himself think about before.

Bucky got that, he wanted to say he’d got there on his own, but honestly it’d taken a couple of calls from Sam. Bucky had been such a shitstorm of emotions at first that Stevie had to push all that to one side and be ok. But eventually he had to take some time to be not ok with it.

Because how could anyone be ok with it?

With knowing what had happened, the wreck it’d left of his body, on top of everything else.

Once Bucky’d realised that, he’d just had to wait for Steve to come back to him.

Steve would always come back to him.

Steve was waiting for him, hands just tucked beneath the hem of his briefs.

Bucky let himself smile. “Get on with it then, punk.”

Steve practically dragged the clothes off him, tossing them carelessly over his shoulder. Bucky leaned up to catch his mouth. “You think you’re so sexy, Rogers.”

“Aren’t I?”

It was pitched like a joke, but without any of the humour. Steve had managed to slip a hand just under the curve of his ass, but no further. There was a tiny frown just pulling at his forehead.

“Hey,” he waited Steve met his eyes, “you want me to?”

He could practically hear Steve thinking. Whether it was the honourable thing to let Bucky get himself ready. Whether he oughta take the ‘penalty’ because of what he was about to do. Whether any of it was the
right the thing at all.

Stevie, always a fucking martyr.

“It’s not a trick question, darlin.”

Bucky was already reaching for the slick.

“I… could watch?” Steve said it like it was a compromise.

“Kinky.”

Steve smacked his arm.

He got his fingers slicked up and reached down.

It was bad.

It’d been weeks and he had force himself to remember how to relax into it, but more than that, he’d got used to not feeling that burning down there, inside him.

He made a noise, took a second to remember that that was ok now. Steve wanted him to.

Still…

God, it fucking hurt.

It was…

Steve’s mouth suddenly covered his, chaste and light.

He kissed him back, harder. “Touch me.”

Steve did, running his hands up his ribs, across his chest, and all the time exploring his mouth, biting at his lip.

His entire body was a strange mix of sensations. His fingers were a dry ache inside him, too rough and too stretched. But then Steve’s hands and mouth, every so often the sharp nip of teeth, were sending waves of want right to his cock.

And he couldn’t reach far enough inside himself, couldn’t get the right angle.

It was fucking unbearable.

“Stevie, fuck,” he struggled to push Steve back from where he’d apparently decided to give him the world’s biggest hickey, “Stevie, I’m ready. Jesus!”

Steve finally sat back, looking pretty wrecked already with his hair stuck to his forehead and his cheeks flushed. He just grinned his slightly dopey grin, and absolutely forced Bucky to kiss him again. “So, how’d you wanna do this?”

“Come here.”

He let Steve move him where he wanted him, which turned out to be on his lap. He got it, Stevie wanted him to take the lead on this one. He would happily oblige.

He positioned himself over Steve, groaning as he felt the stretch.

“Fuck.” He dropped his head onto Steve’s shoulder. “Shit. Fuck.”

“Buck?”

He just nodded, pressing his face harder into Steve’s skin.

He’d forgotten how bad it was. He always forgot, that’s probably why he was so eager to do it again. But it was worth it, he knew it was worth it.

It would be.

He shifted slightly, felt Steve scrape inside him.

But Steve also had his arms around him, holding him up, and was muttering into his skin. He couldn’t really hear him but he’d lay money on what he was saying.

He started to move, experimentally, gasped as he found the right angle.

“Bucky?” He opened his eyes, Steve was inches away from his face. “I love you so much.”

Bucky laughed, more of a huff of air punched out of his lungs as he moved. “Love you too, Ste- Ah, fuck!”

Steve pulled him closer, let him duck his head into his shoulder. He was pretty sure he was crying now, the sharp sting of it dragging the tears out of him. It was sending shooting pains up his spine, making his legs weak.

“Buck?”

“Green.”

“OK.”

Stevie loved that whole traffic light thing he’d found online. Bucky didn’t really see the point, why it was any different to ‘stop’ or ‘no’, but if it made Steve happy.

He wanted to finish so bad, but it wasn’t enough. Not to drown out the pain, to let him chase the feeling.

“Stevie, I want- Shit-“

He could hear Steve gasping in his ear. “Yeah?”

“I want- Fuck!” He was beginning to lose it. “Fuck, I can’t.”

He felt Steve kiss his neck. “Alright, baby.”

He let Steve reposition them so he had a bit more leverage. And then he
thrust up. Hard.

Bucky cried out with it.

“Buck?”

“Jesus! Gre- green!”

That was apparently all the encouragement he needed, because Steve went at it like a goddamn piston.

Bucky was making little keening sounds, and it oughta be embarrassing but he didn’t give a fuck, because there were glass shards inside him, and fucking electricity up his spine, but Steve’s teeth were scraping on his throat, on his shoulder, and Steve’s skin was beneath his nails, and he was biting and kissing at him, and all of it was pushing him over the edge…

And…

And he gasped as he came, and that was enough to set Steve off as well, because he could feel him inside him.

Steve was kissing ‘I love you’s into his jaw, but he couldn’t manage to reply.

Couldn’t manage to do much of anything at all.

***

“Bucky?” Steve was laughing at him. It was a nice sound. “Let me up, ya big lug.”

“No.” He tucked his face into Steve’s neck.

Stevie was a nice pillow and Bucky was not moving, not when he felt so fucked out and floaty.

He felt Steve’s hand on his back, patting at him. “Come on, wanna clean us up.”

“Later.”

“Come on!”

He gave in and let Steve roll him off him, landing on his back in a way that sent a twinge up inside him. “Urgh. How are you always so fucking chirpy?”

Steve didn’t answer but Bucky could see the smirk on his face as he wandered into their bathroom.

“Oh wow! Buck, people are gonna talk.”

He hitched himself up on his elbows, to see Steve looking at himself in the mirror. He had hickeys all across his neck and shoulders, bright pink scratches all across his back.

“Huh.” Bucky kinda liked it. “Do I look as bad as you do?”

Steve snagged a washcloth. “Worse.”

Bucky laid back down, threw an arm across his eyes, let himself doze as the water turned on and off. He felt Steve’s weight depress the bed, groaned at the feeling of wet across his stomach but generally let Steve do whatever he was doing.

Until, Steve dipped a bit lower.

He flinched automatically, grabbed at Steve’s wrist.

“Sorry.” He released him.

Steve was frowning. “Does it still hurt?”

Bucky shrugged. “Little bit.”

“Can I help?”

“No. Leave it.”

He felt Steve shift on the bed. “Can’t I-“

He smiled. “Red, Stevie.”

Steve jerked backwards so hard he almost fell off the bed. Bucky heard the cloth splat against the floor.

He sat up. “That was a joke,” he said lamely.

Steve looked as if nothing in the world could be less funny. Bucky just watched him, knelt on the end of the bed. He wished suddenly he’d put fewer marks on his skin.

“Hey,” he waited until Steve met his eyes, “I could use some water.”

Steve flashed a hesitant smile. “Sure thing, Buck.”

He settled himself up against the headboard, so that when Steve came back, carrying a glass of water and several coloured packets, he could slip in at the side of him.

“I brought snacks too.”

Steve deposited the packets on the comforter, handed Bucky the glass, and took his allocated spot, curled up against Bucky’s chest. “You know I love you, right?”

“As if you’d let me forget.”

He felt Steve smile, felt him trace the bottom edge of one of the lower bruises on his chest. “You were right, you are pretty sexy.”

“Jesus, if you need to go again, you’re gonna have to go jerk off somewhere.”

Steve laughed. “I think I’m good.”

“Good, cos I am closed for business.”

“God, how’d you ever convince those dames you were so smooth?”

Bucky thought about it.

“I had to act in front of them. In front of everyone else.”

He didn’t add the ‘except you’, but from the way Steve squirmed closer he guessed he got it.

He pressed a kiss into Steve’s hair. “Hey, Stevie?”

Steve looked up. “Yeah?”

“You ok?”

With this? With everything?

Steve just smiled. “Yeah, I am.” He laid back down. “Are you?”

“Yeah, Stevie.” He kissed into his hair again. “Green.”

Bucky not taking their safeword seriously and then feeling bad about Steve’s reaction is such a nice touch here because it really shows a lot about what both characters are thinking and feeling. There’s still a disconnect and plenty for them to work on but they are doing the work to make it work. I like where you’ve chosen to end this. Kudos!

Hey so I'm the prompt OP, sorry for not commenting on the last part as I was away on a trip! Thank you so much for writing this, and this last chapter was a great mix of hot-yet-sweet <3

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