a/n: this is going to be a 5+1 format, as in "five times steve declined to punish bucky (and one time he did)", because i love negotiation more than is good for me. thank you for all the feedback, do let me know if there's anything you particularly want from future installments!
Bucky brings it up again after another three months.
He’s been making steady progress. The doctors are amazed with how far he’s come in a relatively short amount of time. His brain is healing much faster than they expected. Outside of the strictly physical, he’s also doing better and better emotionally and mentally. He has fewer nightmares, and lately almost never one of the terrifying (for Steve, anyway) dissociative periods when he can’t remember where he is or what’s happening to him. He’s started joking again, and every so often sounds just like his old self—not, as Steve often reminds him, that he’s under any obligation to go back to his old self at all. Whenever Steve says this, Bucky will roll his eyes and remind Steve that he wants to, wants his life back, which makes Steve feel better, although he can never entirely erase the fear that he’s coercing Bucky into doing things that he doesn’t really want to do.
Which is why, under no circumstances, will he be punishing Bucky for having been raped, Jesus Christ, he can’t believe he has somehow found himself living in a world in which that’s a sentence he has to even think. But it is, and it’s for Bucky, he reminds himself, whenever he starts to feel too sorry for himself. It’s for Bucky. There’s no higher purpose in Steve’s life. So he’ll just have to swallow his own discomfort and get through this conversation.
Bucky’s hot new coping mechanism is extreme frankness, which in theory Steve approves of. In practice…
Well, it’s not like Bucky needs his approval. Which is a good thing. Because he can’t possibly give it, not to this.
“I want us to be together again,” Bucky declares. “Like we used to be.”
Steve’s heart is leaping in his chest long before he’s able to be sensible or ask questions or anything, because Bucky wants to be with him. How could anything else matter?
Except that, of course, there will always be something that matters more, the one thing that matters most.
Bucky.
“What do you mean?”
“I want to be yours. And before you start, Steve, I don’t mean like the way the asset belonged to Hydra. I mean, like, the way Bucky Barnes used to belong to that little punk Steve Rogers way back in Brooklyn. You understand?”
“I understand.”
“You want that too, yeah?” Bucky asks, and there’s something in the casualness of his voice that Steve knows is anything but casual. He’s not sure—and how could he be? Steve isn’t either, when it comes down to it. It’s been so long for both of them. How could either of them be sure again, that things will ever go back to normal? They still trust each other, of course, but they don’t know each other with the same silent confidence that they used to.
“Of course I do, Bucky,” he says, straight away, no hesitation, no worrying. Bucky shouldn’t have to wonder.
“I want it to all go back to normal. Just like how it was before. Do you think that could ever happen?”
“Maybe?” Steve says, because honesty, honesty, even when it’s hard. That’s what he owes Bucky, and that’s what he’ll give Bucky. “But if it can’t, I do think it can go back to being really good. Maybe even better.”
“You want to give it a try?”
“If you do.”
Bucky nods, once, and then sets his jaw. “Right. We can do that. Share a frank down at Coney Island, walk the pier tryin’ not to let anyone catch us holding hands, make love all night. All the stuff we used to do. Only, you gotta do one thing for me first.”
“I’d do anything for you.”
“You gotta do what I asked, Stevie. You gotta punish me.” Bucky’s accent is coming out strong now, but he’s not dancing away from Steve’s eyes. He seems, if anything, more solidly himself than usual.
Steve draws a breath, which is apparently Buckys’ cue to attack.
“I know you’ve done it before. I remember. You caught me flirting with Joe Donaghue down at the docks, and you told me to follow you home and I did, ‘cause I couldn’t say no to you, and you made me bend over the bed and took off your belt and gave me a proper licking and with every stroke I had to tell you I was sorry for being such a stupid slut and promise I’d never forget again that I was yours.”
Bucky says all of this in a faraway, dreamlike voice, but it doesn’t stop Steve’s traitorous cock from getting hard in his pants, of course.
“It’d have to be more than your belt now, of course. I did a lot worse than make eyes at Joe this time. But I’d take it for you, Stevie, and then I’d be all yours again. However you want me.”
Steve looks at Bucky’s wide, pleading eyes, and does the thing he promised he’d never do to Bucky.
He runs.
Oh, he makes an excuse before he stumbles out of the room, but it’s definitely fleeing, and they both know it. Alone in his room, the door closed and, foolishly, locked (as though Bucky couldn’t break it down if he wanted to), Steve stares down at his erection, willing it to disappear.
He can never do this. More than that, he can’t want it.
But Bucky asked…
For something Steve shouldn’t give him. That’s the end of that.
fill: the claim (2/6)
Bucky brings it up again after another three months.
He’s been making steady progress. The doctors are amazed with how far he’s come in a relatively short amount of time. His brain is healing much faster than they expected. Outside of the strictly physical, he’s also doing better and better emotionally and mentally. He has fewer nightmares, and lately almost never one of the terrifying (for Steve, anyway) dissociative periods when he can’t remember where he is or what’s happening to him. He’s started joking again, and every so often sounds just like his old self—not, as Steve often reminds him, that he’s under any obligation to go back to his old self at all. Whenever Steve says this, Bucky will roll his eyes and remind Steve that he wants to, wants his life back, which makes Steve feel better, although he can never entirely erase the fear that he’s coercing Bucky into doing things that he doesn’t really want to do.
Which is why, under no circumstances, will he be punishing Bucky for having been raped, Jesus Christ, he can’t believe he has somehow found himself living in a world in which that’s a sentence he has to even think. But it is, and it’s for Bucky, he reminds himself, whenever he starts to feel too sorry for himself. It’s for Bucky. There’s no higher purpose in Steve’s life. So he’ll just have to swallow his own discomfort and get through this conversation.
Bucky’s hot new coping mechanism is extreme frankness, which in theory Steve approves of. In practice…
Well, it’s not like Bucky needs his approval. Which is a good thing. Because he can’t possibly give it, not to this.
“I want us to be together again,” Bucky declares. “Like we used to be.”
Steve’s heart is leaping in his chest long before he’s able to be sensible or ask questions or anything, because Bucky wants to be with him. How could anything else matter?
Except that, of course, there will always be something that matters more, the one thing that matters most.
Bucky.
“What do you mean?”
“I want to be yours. And before you start, Steve, I don’t mean like the way the asset belonged to Hydra. I mean, like, the way Bucky Barnes used to belong to that little punk Steve Rogers way back in Brooklyn. You understand?”
“I understand.”
“You want that too, yeah?” Bucky asks, and there’s something in the casualness of his voice that Steve knows is anything but casual. He’s not sure—and how could he be? Steve isn’t either, when it comes down to it. It’s been so long for both of them. How could either of them be sure again, that things will ever go back to normal? They still trust each other, of course, but they don’t know each other with the same silent confidence that they used to.
“Of course I do, Bucky,” he says, straight away, no hesitation, no worrying. Bucky shouldn’t have to wonder.
“I want it to all go back to normal. Just like how it was before. Do you think that could ever happen?”
“Maybe?” Steve says, because honesty, honesty, even when it’s hard. That’s what he owes Bucky, and that’s what he’ll give Bucky. “But if it can’t, I do think it can go back to being really good. Maybe even better.”
“You want to give it a try?”
“If you do.”
Bucky nods, once, and then sets his jaw. “Right. We can do that. Share a frank down at Coney Island, walk the pier tryin’ not to let anyone catch us holding hands, make love all night. All the stuff we used to do. Only, you gotta do one thing for me first.”
“I’d do anything for you.”
“You gotta do what I asked, Stevie. You gotta punish me.” Bucky’s accent is coming out strong now, but he’s not dancing away from Steve’s eyes. He seems, if anything, more solidly himself than usual.
Steve draws a breath, which is apparently Buckys’ cue to attack.
“I know you’ve done it before. I remember. You caught me flirting with Joe Donaghue down at the docks, and you told me to follow you home and I did, ‘cause I couldn’t say no to you, and you made me bend over the bed and took off your belt and gave me a proper licking and with every stroke I had to tell you I was sorry for being such a stupid slut and promise I’d never forget again that I was yours.”
Bucky says all of this in a faraway, dreamlike voice, but it doesn’t stop Steve’s traitorous cock from getting hard in his pants, of course.
“It’d have to be more than your belt now, of course. I did a lot worse than make eyes at Joe this time. But I’d take it for you, Stevie, and then I’d be all yours again. However you want me.”
Steve looks at Bucky’s wide, pleading eyes, and does the thing he promised he’d never do to Bucky.
He runs.
Oh, he makes an excuse before he stumbles out of the room, but it’s definitely fleeing, and they both know it. Alone in his room, the door closed and, foolishly, locked (as though Bucky couldn’t break it down if he wanted to), Steve stares down at his erection, willing it to disappear.
He can never do this. More than that, he can’t want it.
But Bucky asked…
For something Steve shouldn’t give him. That’s the end of that.