Bucky stops asking, after that, and moves on to a different plan. Steve wishes he loved someone a little less stubbornly determined, because the whole thing has grown a bit exhausting.
Because now, Bucky isn’t asking. He’s attempting to seduce Steve.
Steve is pretty easily seduceable, especially when it comes to Bucky Barnes. Bucky only has to lean on him while they’re watching TV, or casually sling an arm around his waist while they’re walking, or smirk at him in that bright, knowing way he always used to, or card his fingers through his now-long hair, or… basically do anything, come to think of it. Yeah, Steve is basically putty in the hands of Bucky, and Bucky knows it.
And then he’ll smile at Steve, or lean in closer, or wink, and he’ll whisper in Steve’s ear, blowing warm, wet breath across the sensitive shell of Steve’s ear, “You want me, right?”
“Yes,” Steve will answer, too far gone to demur even if he would want to lie, because he wants Bucky like a fire wants to burn, and there’s no point in trying to hide it.
Bucky will pull away, smile at him again, no, smirk, and then he’ll say, “Well, you know what you have to do.”
Obviously, Steve isn’t going to let his desire for sex get in the way of doing the right thing for Bucky. He has to admit, though, that it’s getting harder and harder to remember why this is the right thing, with Bucky continuing to insist that he wants Steve to punish him, with the pleasant memories of past games so fresh, and, okay, with all of the blood rushing distinctly south of his brain on a regular basis.
He wishes he had someone to talk to about all of this, but he doesn’t think he can bring himself to do so. They’d always kept it a secret—even with their other queer friends, back in Brooklyn, guys who could understand what Steve and Bucky were to each other, they didn’t tell anyone about the games they’d play in the bedroom, or the way in which they sometimes felt like more than just games. Steve was always a little ashamed of how much he liked it, and Bucky didn’t want other guys thinking he was easy just because he was easy for Steve.
The future has changed in a lot of ways, and people talk about all kinds of things that used to be pretty private, but Steve’s still pretty sure he shouldn’t go around telling everyone, or anyone, that Bucky used to get on his knees for Steve and call him ‘sir’ in bed and liked to get tied up. That’s no one’s business but his and Bucky’s. Unfortunately, not being able to talk about that means not being able to explain his dilemma.
Then again, maybe it doesn’t change things that much, because that has nothing to do with this, right? Bucky’s asking Steve to hurt him because of some twisted sense of guilt that HYDRA forced into him, because of the brainwashing and the trauma and everything else.
He barely formulates that thought before he can basically hear Bucky’s response in his head, clear as if he were speaking. ‘What, now I don’t get to know my own mind because of what they done to me? You know that ain’t fair.’ And he’d be right, too.
It isn’t the shameless flirting changing Steve’s mind, not really, but he has to admit it doesn’t help that Bucky is bending over right now to retrieve something he’d accidentally-on-purpose dropped, which of course brings his ass right into Steve’s line of sight.
Steve is getting a headache. Damn serum was supposed to prevent that, but it wasn’t counting on the exhausting and infinite charms of Bucky Barnes, Steve supposes.
the claim (3/8)
Because now, Bucky isn’t asking. He’s attempting to seduce Steve.
Steve is pretty easily seduceable, especially when it comes to Bucky Barnes. Bucky only has to lean on him while they’re watching TV, or casually sling an arm around his waist while they’re walking, or smirk at him in that bright, knowing way he always used to, or card his fingers through his now-long hair, or… basically do anything, come to think of it. Yeah, Steve is basically putty in the hands of Bucky, and Bucky knows it.
And then he’ll smile at Steve, or lean in closer, or wink, and he’ll whisper in Steve’s ear, blowing warm, wet breath across the sensitive shell of Steve’s ear, “You want me, right?”
“Yes,” Steve will answer, too far gone to demur even if he would want to lie, because he wants Bucky like a fire wants to burn, and there’s no point in trying to hide it.
Bucky will pull away, smile at him again, no, smirk, and then he’ll say, “Well, you know what you have to do.”
Obviously, Steve isn’t going to let his desire for sex get in the way of doing the right thing for Bucky. He has to admit, though, that it’s getting harder and harder to remember why this is the right thing, with Bucky continuing to insist that he wants Steve to punish him, with the pleasant memories of past games so fresh, and, okay, with all of the blood rushing distinctly south of his brain on a regular basis.
He wishes he had someone to talk to about all of this, but he doesn’t think he can bring himself to do so. They’d always kept it a secret—even with their other queer friends, back in Brooklyn, guys who could understand what Steve and Bucky were to each other, they didn’t tell anyone about the games they’d play in the bedroom, or the way in which they sometimes felt like more than just games. Steve was always a little ashamed of how much he liked it, and Bucky didn’t want other guys thinking he was easy just because he was easy for Steve.
The future has changed in a lot of ways, and people talk about all kinds of things that used to be pretty private, but Steve’s still pretty sure he shouldn’t go around telling everyone, or anyone, that Bucky used to get on his knees for Steve and call him ‘sir’ in bed and liked to get tied up. That’s no one’s business but his and Bucky’s. Unfortunately, not being able to talk about that means not being able to explain his dilemma.
Then again, maybe it doesn’t change things that much, because that has nothing to do with this, right? Bucky’s asking Steve to hurt him because of some twisted sense of guilt that HYDRA forced into him, because of the brainwashing and the trauma and everything else.
He barely formulates that thought before he can basically hear Bucky’s response in his head, clear as if he were speaking. ‘What, now I don’t get to know my own mind because of what they done to me? You know that ain’t fair.’ And he’d be right, too.
It isn’t the shameless flirting changing Steve’s mind, not really, but he has to admit it doesn’t help that Bucky is bending over right now to retrieve something he’d accidentally-on-purpose dropped, which of course brings his ass right into Steve’s line of sight.
Steve is getting a headache. Damn serum was supposed to prevent that, but it wasn’t counting on the exhausting and infinite charms of Bucky Barnes, Steve supposes.