hydratrashmeme | Dumpster #5: We didn't start the trashfire

Dumpster #5: We didn't start the trashfire

Welcome to the latest, greatest, scummiest iteration of

hydratrashmeme. Come on in and please check your sense of shame at the door.

Rules in brief: Don't be a jerk except to fictional characters. Warn if you want, but read at your own risk, because this is emphatically not a safe space. Link your fills on the fill post. Unprompted fills: make a prompt or a header comment and reply to it with the full text. Continuations of fills from earlier rounds: just make sure you link in both places.

What's on-topic: Filthy and perverted twists on all the quality whump served up by Cap: Winter Soldier. Noncon, aftermath, uncomfortably sexualized violence, mind control, inappropriate uses of Bucky Barnes' metal arm, bad guys doing dirtybadwrong things to your faves.
What's off-topic: a/b/o, D/s-verse, soulbonds, mundane AUs, shippy/romanticized noncon, MCU heroes repurposed into OOC or edgydark delivery vehicles for your fave's suffering. If you've got a prompt for one of those burning a hole in your brain, head on over to

mcu_trash.

[Rules in full] [Round 1] [Round 2] [Round 3] [Round 4] [Fill post] [Chatter post] [hydratrashmeme Pinboard archive] [Round 5 in flat view (comments in non-threaded chronological order, most recent last)]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

“The CIA wants to send an agent to talk to the Winter Soldier,” Natasha told him. “To corroborate some of what they’re getting from other surviving agents in custody.”

She met Steve’s eyes levelly as he tried not to grind his teeth.

“He’s not,” he started to protest. Bucky’s not a prisoner. If anyone should be arrested… He cut the thought off as well as he could. He was trying to be more positive and he didn’t want to put more tally marks on his therapy homework.

“The perception that he is keeps him safe here,” Natasha reminded him. “You know how limited our options are since agents started talking about him.”

Exhaling, Steve deflated a little. It was true and he did know.

“Without you,” she added. “You influence him just by being present.”

Which made sense, considering the circumstances, but didn’t mean he was happy about it. Bucky was affected by Steve’s absence too. “I’ll let Bucky know,” said Steve.

Bucky and Nat were not safe to leave together. To put it very mildly, her presence confused and agitated him. Apparently, neither of them knew exactly what history they had together, but whatever it was wasn’t good. Since Bucky had come in to the Tower, they had met twice and both times had ended with some level of violence.

“I’ll ask Clint to be there,” she promised.

So far, Bucky had warmed to Clint more than any of the other Avengers. He was really the only option.

Bucky’s reaction to the news was a tired sigh and deepening furrow in his forehead. “Most of what I remember isn’t coherent or detailed, Steve.”

Steve knew that, but it still hurt to hear. “But you know things,” he said. “And you know more when you’re prompted.”

Bucky closed his eyes and leaned his weight into Steve’s side. “Yeah. You remember how I work.”

“You’re not a machine. You’re a real person.”

Chuckling weakly, Bucky pressed his chin against Steve’s shoulder. He said, “Easier if I was.”

Steve shook his head, afraid of how Bucky meant that and even more afraid to ask, and turned to put his arms around him.

Much too soon, there were debriefings, assessments, and arguments. Once or twice, Steve genuinely considered petitioning Asgard for asylum. Some of the attempts to debrief Bucky turned out to be outright interrogations Clint had to put a stop to or have JARVIS call Steve to put a stop to and Bucky’s current reality was still… fragile, particularly when he was tired or stressed, which was often. When he shut down, Steve knew it was exhaustion, confusion and fear, but to an interrogator it too often looked like hostility or resistance.

Steve would send Bucky off with whatever gesture of affection he could accept with an audience and hope he’d come back without retreating into being the asset.

They weren’t missions. This wasn’t HYDRA. Steve meant it when he said Bucky was in charge now, but as long as everything was as precarious as it was, Steve had to protect him.

And however frustrated Bucky was, so far as touching each other went, they didn’t go much past first base.

“Eat this,” Bucky demanded.

Steve looked up from the old reports on his tablet and nearly took a sandwich to the nose. “What?” He pulled back and swiped at a drop of what turned out to be mustard.

“Eat this,” Bucky repeated, even less patiently, standing over him.

“Bu-ghuh!” The moment his mouth was open far enough, Bucky took advantage.

“No excuses now, Rogers. This isn’t the Depression. Take a break and eat your fucking lunch.”

In addition to the mustard, the sandwich was beef and cheese with lettuce and tomato. Steve tried not to choke on it.

“So,” said Bucky, falsely conversational. “I can’t help noticing I’m a lot better at taking what you put in my mouth than you are at taking what I try to put in yours.”

“Not helping,” Steve told him, hoarsely, as soon as he could speak.

Both of Bucky’s eyebrows went up. “We could work on that.”

“How about I finish the sandwich?” was Steve’s weak counter-offer. He fought the urge to squirm under Bucky’s looming shadow.

“That’s a start,” Bucky allowed, and retreated. “I’ll bring you another one. What do you want to drink?”

It took a Steve a few seconds to realize the tablet had gone with him.

“I’m going to touch you,” Bucky announced the next time they were naked together touching themselves. He had already come, no prompting or permission required.

Steve was too close to immediately think to protest (he didn’t want to protest) and Bucky’s hand ran down his chest to rest over Steve’s own hand on his leaking dick. There was no direct contact. Possibility alone was enough to push Steve over the edge and that was it. Bucky was a warm weight relaxed against his side, slightly damp and impossibly perfect.

Okay, thought Steve. He repeated it aloud as soon as his breathing slowed. “Okay. We can do this. That was okay.”

“It’s easier once you get the touching boundary out of the way, I think,” said Bucky, languid and pleased.

Wait. What?

The afterglow of orgasm collided with reality like the words were artillery shredding a parachute. Steve twisted for the bedside wastebasket. Don’t think about it!

Rumlow and the Lockbox and first time he’d touched Bucky like that and how many times had Bucky heard that exact phrase that-

Too late.

Even after Steve assured him that it had been the words and not the touch that set it off, Bucky wouldn’t try again for weeks.

“I’m gonna say stuff like that, sometimes,” said Bucky. “All that stuff the Commander said about horses? Basically verbatim from the user manual the Russians put together. They never let me read the thing, of course, and the book’s gone now, but I heard enough of it I could probably write my own copy.”

Steve shot him a look from across the too-large bed. By now, he was fairly sure Bucky didn’t want to be the asset the way HYDRA had made the asset be, but there were moments he wasn’t sure Bucky remembered that.

“I won’t,” Bucky promised. “I’m not interested in another handler and you know the important stuff. Anyway, they tried. I’m here.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened in Ohio?” Steve asked hesitantly. He remember Bucky coming to him incoherent, shaking, and covered in blood. He knew it had been a close call, but the clean up had been especially thorough and the Avengers hadn’t ever had the complete story. If Bucky had shared more information in any of his interviews, they hadn’t shared the resulting intel with the Avengers.

“No,” said Bucky. “Unless the imagining is keeping you up.”

“The only thing keeping me up is your jabbering, jerk,” Steve told him automatically. “Wait, no. I kinda do want to know, but I mostly want to know how sure you are no one has this manual anymore.”

The sheet rustled as Bucky turned on his side to face away from Steve. “Very,” he said. The word came out dark and hard.

“Good,” said Steve. He ached to reach out, but Bucky’s intentional distance preventing him from even trying.

Steve was going crazy. There was no other explanation. He had lost what was left of his mind.

The thing was, Bucky wouldn’t touch him unless they were sleeping. He wouldn’t even touch Steve while they were going to sleep. Worse, the more tightly wound they both were, the more nightmares they had. Bucky had had more violent episodes in the past week than in the previous six weeks all put together.

Starvation was a good word for it.

Steve felt like scum all over again because if this was how he felt after two and half weeks, Bucky had clearly been the exercising all of the asset’s superhuman restraint not to simply jump him and demand physical intimacy. While Steve often felt raw immediately after therapy, he didn’t usually burst into tears at a gentle touch to his shoulder. Clint had looked almost comically taken-aback and pushed him at Natasha for an embarrassingly long hug.

Nat hadn’t appeared too comfortable either.

Steve had to do something. This wasn’t a situation he could solve with punching. How could he convince Bucky that he really meant it when he said he was ready to let Bucky do what he wanted? What they both wanted?

“Holy shit, Rogers!“ Tony Stark blurted upon seeing him.

“Didn’t JARVIS tell you I was here?“ Steve crouched to pick up the clipboard Tony had dropped when Steve had apparently startled him. “I thought you were expecting me.“

Tony’s frown was incredulous. “I wasn’t. That’s not.” He pulled off the protective glasses he had been wearing and squinted at Steve’s bruised neck and bloodshot eyes. “Have you, oh, looked in the mirror today, Cap?”

Steve sighed. “Yeah, but I swear that has nothing to do with why I’m here.”

“Really,” said Tony. “You think maybe it should? I’d offer you an armor to stand guard or something, but that didn’t turn out great for me and Pep. Then again, your boyfriend clearly is a danger to your physical health, so-”

Interrupting, Steve pulled the set of STRIKE-issue magnetic cuffs out of his shield bag and said, “I was hoping you could either improve these or do something to make them a little less… SHIELDRA?” He didn’t have the energy to worry about whether he should be upset by the label Tony had given Bucky.

The question itself appeared to insult Tony. “Can I? Did you seriously just ask me that? Can I?” He took the cuffs. “Tell me you’re planning to use them for your safety. I don’t want to make it easier for him to beat you up.”

“He’s not beating me up,” Steve insisted tiredly. “He woke me up and I triggered him because I forgot...” when we were, what we were, “...to be careful.”

Tony Stark scoffed. “So, he is beating you up, but it isn’t his fault.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Capsicle.”

He started to rub at his face and immediately thought better of it. “Will you do it? Ideally, I’d like them to be relatively comfortable for several hours.” There was no fighting the rising flush. “Ah, comfortable to lie on, too. Not just to wear.”

Tony’s expression softened. “Yeah. Sure. I can do that.”

It was obvious, as soon as he stepped onto the floor and saw Bucky’s face, that the Winter Soldier had found a way to listen in on his conversations again.

“Buck…”

“I know they aren’t for me,” said Bucky, but he didn’t look like he knew.

“They’re not!”

“But. Are they for the asset?”

“No!” Steve only realized he hadn’t said it loudly enough or that Bucky was lost in a memory, when Bucky continued to talk.

“The girls were cuffed to the beds at night. To help them remember, not to stop them escaping.” He was smiling slightly, but it was wrong. “No one ever-”

“Jesus, Bucky, no. No, I’m not cuffing you to the bed. The cuffs are to use on me.”

Bucky stopped and Steve realized what had been so off before. Bucky hadn’t really been looking at him.

He was looking now.

“We’re not cuffing you to the bed,” he announced, focused and intense. “It’s not safe. I’m not safe. You gotta fight back better next time. You can’t count on confusing me.”

This was not a conversation Steve was interested in having for the umpteenth time. “No one is getting cuffed to the bed,” he said, and immediately knew he was turning pink.

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Punk?”

Well, that’s done it. “...Unless you’re into that?”

The expression dropped off Bucky’s face. “What,” he said, affectless.

Steve winced and fumbled for the words he needed. “Into me, I mean. In them. For you. So, they are for you, but not to use, except, fuck, I mean, to use on me. I-“

Still without discernible emotion, Bucky said, “I’m always into you, Stevie.” He turned away and walked into the bathroom without giving any more clues to what he was thinking or feeling.

Shit.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said aloud. Bucky would hear him, but he could pretend he hadn’t. “I could have thought this out better. I’m more comfortable with letting you do what you want if I know I can’t do anything you don’t want. That’s all. We don’t have to use them. Hell, Tony hasn’t even had a chance to do anything with them yet.”

The silence was long enough that Steve gave up on a response. There was no sound of Bucky doing anything in the bathroom, though, so Steve kept an ear out while he went about the first task that occurred to him and began to set out ingredients for sandwiches. Hot sandwiches. This wasn’t cooking, just assembling. The sandwich press had to be Steve’s favorite small kitchen appliance. Tony Stark had tried to tell him about maybe a dozen other things it could do, including burgers, bagels and small pizzas, but Steve and Bucky were mostly interested in hot sandwiches.

Lettuce was waste of space for them anyway. There weren’t very many calories in lettuce. If they wanted lettuce, they could put it in a salad and get junk calories from the dressing.

Had he heard a noise? No.

Salad. Half a dozen sandwiches was enough. He could make salad. They had some other vegetables. He could add sliced apples and maybe heat up some strips of steak. In the back of the fridge, they still had a most of a block of weird artisan farmer’s cheese made from raw milk with peppercorns. It was probably one of Tony’s attempts to broaden his horizons. It was fine in small quantities.

Apples. He would slice the apples first and they could eat them even without a whole salad.

“He’s had them twenty-two minutes,” said Bucky said from behind him. His voice was quiet but not so horribly flat now. “He is a genius.”

Steve put down the knife in a smooth motion that almost certainly did nothing to hide the fact that he had almost changed his grip on it. “Okay.”

“I don’t want us to be afraid of each other.”

Bucky had definitely noticed.

“Sorry. Stupid reflexes.” Steve tried to relax his neck and shoulders. It didn’t work so well.

“My friend in DC says it’s hard for people to make well-considered decisions when they’re afraid.”

Someday, Steve was going to find out exactly who Bucky’s friend was and thank him. Some of what Bucky repeated made him want to punch the guy, but that wasn’t an usual desire for Steve, so he couldn’t weigh it too heavily against all the good. Bucky didn’t respond nearly as positively to any professionals he had met in the Tower.

“I’m not afraid of you, Bucky. I’m afraid of me.”

“That’s stupid,” said Bucky. He picked up a sandwich and stalked to the corner of the entertainment area to eat it.

(A!A) I am aware it has been much longer than usual since my last post. I'm still here. I'm still alive. I'm still working on the last part of the last chapter.

(A!A) omg that was meant to be "unusual" not "usual" desire.

Everything is painful and beautiful. I'll just go cry myself to sleep over this masterwork of a mess. It's all good.

(A!A) Thank you!

Unsure of Bucky’s actual stance on the matter, Steve didn’t ask Tony about the cuffs until four days later when he learned Tony had made completely new ones. Two pairs, in fact.

The new magnetic cuffs were definitely not of SHIELD or HYDRA origin. Steve didn't think he wanted to know the thought process behind the result, but he felt it was safe to say no one would be confused about where the cuffs had come from.

They were wider with less potential to bite into skin. The first set was bright blue with little cartoon rainbows and multicolored smiley faces. The interior of the new cuffs was lined with tan suede or something very like it. The outside gave slightly to the touch but was another material and clearly meant to be water-resistant. The second was striped in pink, purple, and blue. The lining was the same purple as the exterior stripes.

"I'd like to be clear," Tony stressed, "that these do not constitute fuzzy handcuffs." He paused. "Or furry ones."

Steve did his best to look confused, but he could feel the blush rising. “Th-anks?” Just to add to his embarrassment, his voice cracked on the word.

Tony Stark gave him a knowing look. “There are a handful of ways to open them. Saying red,” the cuffs opened with with a muffled chh-clunk, “is one of them, but feel free to pick another safeword or multiple safewords. Tell JARVIS what you want.”

“Oh my god, Tony.” If spontaneous combustion was real, now would be a great time.

“I think you mean thank you, Tony.” He smirked. “Sleep, fuck, whatever. These things are safe and comfortable. The sane and consensual parts are up to you two.”

Steve sighed and covered his eyes. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I want to hang you up like in Arizona,” said Bucky, like it was a perfectly normal thing to say over lunch. “The anchors for the bags should be able to take your weight.” They’d installed a pair of heavy bags in the spare bedroom, despite the concerns of nearly everyone Steve knew in the tower that he might become a recluse again without a reason to go to the gym.

They needn’t have worried. Bucky had taken vengefully to his old role of making Steve socialize, even if that now made Bucky himself a terrible hypocrite.

“Okay,” Steve said.

“You’re not even gonna ask what for?” Bucky looked more than a little disgruntled.

Steve shrugged and smiled a bit sheepishly. “Not much you could do that I’d say no to, Buck.”

Bucky’s frown deepened. “Yeah, see, if I said that, you’d worry.”

I’m not the one who was brainwashed and tortured. Not for decades.

“I’ll stop you if I don’t like it.” He still wasn’t fully convinced Bucky would do the same, but that was why Bucky had to be the one in control.

“So, if I wanted you to replace the bag?”

Buying time to consider his words, Steve chewed his bite of chocolate cake slowly before swallowing. “I… might actually feel better if you hurt me.”

With a humorless chuckle, Bucky pointed his fork at him. “Haven’t I hurt you enough?”

I don’t think you could ever hurt me so much I wouldn’t still want you.

He didn’t say it, but Bucky caught his thoughts anyway. “Damnit, Stevie. We’re a fucking matched fucked up set. We fucking deserve each other. Why can’t you believe I feel the same way and there’s nothing you could do to change that?”

Steve took another bite of cake instead of answering. Steve had no good answer to that. Steve knew it and Bucky knew it.

“Well,” said Bucky, “I wanna hang you up and do things to you. Not gonna ask me what those things are?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Steve shook his head. “I trust you, Bucky.”

Bucky only scowled.

There were only a few things that occurred to Steve to expect. Bucky had said like in Arizona, and Steve didn’t exactly anticipate he’d be used for target practice.

It was with a heady mix of nerves and arousal that he helped take down the reinforced heavy bags, stripped, let Bucky snap him into the striped cuffs, turned his back to the door, and then waited while Bucky attached the cable to the joining of the cuffs and hoisted them up until Steve’s bare heels were only lightly resting on the carpet.

Still fully dressed, Bucky looked him up and down, lingering briefly on Steve’s half-hard cock. “Comfortable?”

“Yeah,” Steve croaked.

“Good.” Bucky stared at him for a minute in silence, then licked his lips, turned away, and walked past him out of the room.

After a few minutes, Steve admitted to himself that he might have misjudged Bucky’s intentions.

There was a series of loud noises from the kitchen, followed by Bucky’s multi-lingual cursing.

Steve waited.

“You okay in there, Stevie?” Bucky called, maybe ten minutes later.

“I’m fine, Buck,” Steve promised.

About the same length of time passed again before Bucky came back.

“Close your eyes and open your mouth.”

Steve did and listened to Bucky set something on the carpet. He could smell… almost everything they had that was ready to eat.

“Take what you’re given. No…” Bucky hesitated. “No… chewing.”

Oh God, Bucky. Futilely, Steve tried not to imagine the reason for that hesitation.

The first thing Bucky fed him was a square of milk chocolate. It was easy to let it melt on his tongue until Bucky told him to swallow. Next was a section of orange, bright and sweet and clean. Steve used his tongue to press it against his hard palate until it burst. He sucked the juice out and swallowed the remains whole. The cube of cheddar after that wasn’t a challenge. He rolled it around his mouth until it became soft enough to swallow.

Bucky said, “Good,” and continued to feed him. There were crackers with a variety of jams and condiments, more fresh fruit, more cheese, slices of hard boiled eggs, and various desserts from cookies to caramels.

After a while, Steve’s throat hurt a little from morsels that weren’t quite soft enough and he found himself swaying slightly, waiting for...something. The muscles he was using to keep himself in place didn’t burn yet, but they were slowly getting there. He knew Bucky had a thing about making sure he was fed, but this couldn’t be all Bucky wanted, could it?

The frown was clear in Bucky’s voice when he spoke again. “You’re a rotten liar, Steve. No, don’t say a fucking word. You trust me with you and I trust you with me. If we thought we could be trusted with our own damn selves we’d a’been fuckin’ for months.”

Steve struggled against the urge to speak. He hadn’t been lying.

He couldn't say that Bucky was wrong, either.

“I’m gonna tell you some things for about the millionth time and I need you to listen,” Bucky whispered, suddenly close enough to break against Steve’s neck and ear.

Steve shivered.

“I got ‘em written down and everything so you know I’ve thought about it and I mean everything I say. Gonna listen? Let me have what I want?”

Letting himself slump, Steve nodded. This was Bucky’s show. Steve would do whatever he wanted.

“Good.” Bucky kissed him and smiled into it as Steve responded. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna put away the plates.”

Oh, sweet mother of all that is good and filthy in this world. Tony with the cuffs, OMG! Steve's feels over being hanged up and Bucky's feels in response to that, OMG! The FEEDING, OMG THE FEEDING OF SMALL NICE THINGS BUT NO SHEWING, OMG! BUCKY HAS THINGS TO SAY THAT HE WROTE DOWN AND NEEDS STEVE TO LISTEN, OMG! Steve, just please don't fuck this up!

(A!A) It took me a long time to get the next part to a satisfactory ending.

I've extended the chapter count on AO3 to 115, so this would be 112 now, but I'm going to keep going with letters here.

The anticipation was… difficult. Steve was sorely tempted to open his eyes, even if he'd kept them closed so long now the lids felt heavy. He shifted and tried to alleviate some of his increasingly uncomfortable tension. When Bucky returned, he wasn't trying to move quietly. His tread and the whisper of paper in Bucky’s hands helped Steve to focus.

"Huh," said Bucky. "Nod if you're okay or shake your head if you need me to let you down."

Steve nodded immediately. This level of discomfort was nothing really, but it was nice to know Bucky had noticed.

"It's been about an hour and twenty. Got any idea how weird it feels that you're letting me do this? I'da done myself an injury by now in your place."

Steve started to shake his head and then stopped, concerned that Bucky might thing he was asking to be freed.

“Okay then. Here goes." Bucky cleared his throat. Paper rustled. "Steve. I know I love you and you love me, but I also know you're scared about being together. Being together sexually. I want to be clear. The fact that I can and want to and do consent now, and I'm sure you want to too, in no way alters what happened in the past. Multiple people, including me, choose not to hold either of us responsible. But.”

There was a long pause filled only by the quiet crinkling of paper. But what, Buck? Because there was no way Bucky didn't have any reservations. Steve had had enough for both of them and no matter what he tried it still felt like they were on opposite ends of a see-saw. As Bucky's confidence rose, Steve retreated, and then as soon as Steve's confidence rose, Bucky retreated. There had to be a reason they couldn't get on the same page for more than few minutes.

Bucky cleared his throat and continued. "What happened between us under HYDRA was not consensual. I don't mean to upset you, but I wasn't the only one who couldn't freely consent. Our superiors had life and death power over us. They could do or make us do just about anything. We had no options other than compliance. You can tell yourself that you could'a refused or fought or left, but those weren't real choices you could'a made, Steve. You tried, didn't you? Compliance was the least bad choice."

That's what everyone kept telling him. Steve was still working on believing it. He might even have argued if he hadn't been holding his tongue for Bucky.

"Any idea how hard I worked to seduce you? You were my fucking official secondary mission, straight from the Secretary."

Steve inhaled sharply, mind racing. He hadn't known that. He might have expected it, but he hadn't known.

"Yeah, that's right. Compromise Captain Rogers. Half the time, I didn't even know how that could be possible until Rumlow introduced you. You were supposed to be fucking dead. No way were you in front of me, talking to me, touching me, looking at me like I might be the person I'd fantasized about one day getting to be. You looked at me like we were more than a story. I'm not a fucking Black Widow, Stevie. A honeytrap isn't in my goddamn skillset these days. Orders were orders, though, and I was supposed to make you want me so bad you'd get stupid. I didn't know how to do that, so I tried what I knew worked on me and took advantage when you were stupid anyway. I told you before. I drugged you to get you through that first time. I don't know why that first time is one of the clearest, but I was fucking proud of myself. I fucking dream about it now and it's not a damn nightmare until I wake up and think about what I did. I helped them rape you, rape us, and I'm sorry, but I did it."

That wasn't right. That couldn't be right. Putting it that way make it sound like Bucky had had a choice and there was no choice at all.

Isn't that what Bucky just told you? He pushed the thought away. It wasn't the same at all. There was no comparison.

Bucky waited, maybe to see if Steve would try to argue. When Steve stayed still and silent, there was a faint noise like Bucky had shifted position- nodded maybe. The paper rustled against skin and metal. Steve tried to picture it in his head. Was it a whole page, a half-sheet, lined or unlined? Handwritten? Typed and printed? He didn't smell printer ink, but there was no telling how long ago Bucky had finished-

Steve' desperate attempt to distract himself from the actual content of Bucky's words shattered as Bucky said, "I know it's a hell of a lot to ask, but can we try to forgive and move on? Try to stop actin' like guilt is an Olympic sport you gotta constantly train for? They don't get to take our future as well as our past. I. I." For a long moment, Bucky broke off speaking and shuffled his feet. "I want our future. I want us. As a fuckin' couple, fucking pun intended. Fuck HYDRA. They don't get to stop us from having our happy ending and the only happy ending I want is with you. HYDRA didn't tell me to want that. They only cared what I thought so far as it affected my behavior. They couldn't take you out, so they had to convince me they'd put you in. They had to work with what was already there and what was already there was you and me, pal."

God, I want that to be real. Please let it be real. His eyes burned and he struggled against the urge to blink.

"So, you gotta know, Steve. The reasons I would try to make you happy weren't the same as the reasons I would try for the Commander. I might have been afraid, but not of you, not like the others. There was always more to it. You didn't have to get to me. I was yours for the asking since sometime in the mid '30s. My biggest regret about us isn't what we did under orders. It's what we haven't done on our own."

Liquid ran down Steve's face, dripped off his chin onto his chest. He tried to tell himself it was only sweat, but he wasn't under that much physical strain and he still wasn't a good enough liar.

“You should know-" Bucky continued, but Steve couldn't take it anymore.

"Kiss me, Bucky," he gasped, then reflexibly recoiled. Fuck, I gave him an order and...

The thought trailed off as cool metal settled on his hip and warmed flesh and blood fingers skimmed over his shoulder to cup the back of his head to draw him forward into the press of lips. Steve throat emitted a breathless broken sound and he couldn't even be embarrassed at the fresh burst of tears now wetting both their faces.

"Shh, Stevie. I'm right here. I'm with you-"

"I know. I love you. I'm sorry."

"Steve." Bucky sounded desperate, disappointed.

"Yes," said Steve, as firmly as he could, which wasn't very at the moment. He turned his head, coughed to clear the lump in his throat, and said it again. "Yes, Bucky."

There was a long silence filled only by their mutual breathing.

"Okay, then," Bucky whispered thickly. "Look me in the eye and say it. I love you, I forgive you, I still want to be with you. Your turn. Let' hear it."

"I love you, I. I forgive you," Steve repeated, staring into those perfectly Bucky-blue eyes and only stumbling over the second vow because he still couldn't imagine blaming Bucky for any of it. "I still want to be with you."

"No more begging. Let's have sex," Bucky supplied brightly, both hands now on Steve's hips, thumbs making gentle circular motions.

Steve worked his jaw a moment. He let his eyes dart around the room. The paper, a single unlined handwritten sheet, brushed his toes where it had fallen between them. "No more begging. Let's have... Right now?"

Bucky smiled, and Steve realized that somehow the asset's small smile had become Bucky's too. He stepped back and then dropped gracefully to one knee to retrieve the paper.

"I'm not saying no," Steve tried to explain, but then Bucky was down on both knees looking up at him and the familiarity left the rest of his words caught in his throat.

"Well, that's good," said Bucky, "because I have the rest of this written out on goddamn paper. And it's different because I'm the one wearing clothes and you're naked and tied up, so you can tell whatever second thoughts you might be havin' to take a fuckin' hike while I go down on you."

A hard swallow and Steve nodded. "Okay. Please, I-"

The cuffs opened, Steve's knees buckled, and only the Winter Soldier's reflexes saved Steve's genitals from an unfortunate encounter with Bucky's left arm.

There was a heartbeat of shocked stillness as Steve found himself abruptly relocated to Bucky's lap.

"Shit. Guess I oughta said I added another safeword. No more begging."

"Please?" Steve repeated, incredulous. Though, as he thought about it, it only felt more and more appropriate.

They stared at each other until Bucky ducked his head, more happy than sheepish, and then both of them started to laugh, tension evaporated.

"My biggest regret about us isn't what we did under orders. It's what we haven't done on our own." Oh, I love this!

(A!A) Thank you!

I'M CRYING BECAUSE MY HEART IS FULL OF RAINBOWS

Also DAAAAAAAAAAAAAMN BUCKY at that reveal that HE was the one responsible for the sex pollen gas!!! Or that the Asset was, anyway. Brilliant!

(A!A) In terms of responsibility, I think Bucky is doing more equivocizing(is that a word? I think that might not be a word) than he should, but I’m kind of stuck in Steve’s POV.

omg Bucky is so sweet in this! his prepared speech adkjfadhal jdf

(A!A) hopefully worth the wait!

Despite all Steve’s best intentions, he went rigid as soon as Bucky closed the cuffs over his wrists and forearms again.

“Shhh, I got you,” Bucky murmured. “And you’re not goin’ anyplace I don’t want.”

Flexing against the magnetic cuffs, Steve tested the restraints again before sagging into them in relief. “You have me,” he confirmed and let himself sway on his feet.

“What do you say if you want me to stop?” Bucky demanded.

Immediately, Steve got his feet under himself to take his weight. “Please,” Steve said. The cuffs opened. Steve didn’t move.

“Good,” said Bucky, reaching up to close them one-handed. They locked automatically. “That’s right.”

Steve shivered.

“I’m gonna do what I want with you,” Bucky reminded him, ghosting a hand up Steve’s bare abdominals. He chuckled when Steve jumped at the cool metal. “You’re gonna let me.”

At Steve’s nod, Bucky dropped back to his knees and picked up his paper again. “Are you gonna get hard for me, Stevie?” He looked up with that new smile when Steve’s cock twitched in answer. “I like seeing the proof of your desire. I’ve coaxed plenty of reluctant stiffies out of men who were bored or scared or disgusted.”

Thankfully, Bucky ignored Steve’s unhappy exhalation. (Don’t worry about getting it up. That’s the asset’s problem.) Steve did his best to force down the confused swirl of shame and gratitude.

“Being looked at like a man who can give a lover something they really want is more of a Bucky-thing and I want that. The asset is good for a lot of things, but it’s not a man.”

It was hard to guess what the best response to that would be. Fortunately, Steve had a good reason not to say anything. He gritted his teeth and stayed silent. They could talk about it later.

“You should know exactly how long I’ve been waiting to get my mouth on you for real,” Bucky breathed as he rubbed the top of his nose against the underside of the length of Steve’s growing erection, making Steve jerk involuntarily. “First time I went down on a girl, I wished I could do it with you too. Didn’ know how it would work, but I wanted t’ try it with you. I always thought, if our lives were different, maybe… And here we are.” His cheek brushed the head of Steve’s cock as he nuzzled Steve again.

“Here we are,” Steve gasped, only realizing he’d repeated it aloud when Bucky laughed in pleased surprise.

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed. “So now after seventy-something years I’m gonna try it.” He kissed the tip, making Steve’s entire body jerk, and grinned up at him. “We’re gonna try it.”

With that, he tossed the paper aside and swallowed Steve down.

Or tried to.

“Really?” he sputtered, once he’d pulled off and regained control of his breathing. “I’ve done this about a million times. I’ve sucked your cock prob’ly fifty or a hundred times. What the hell?”

“Oh,” blurted Steve, still working on his own breathing.

Bucky glared up at him in half-hearted dismay. “Okay. What?”

A wide incredulous relieved smile broke across Steve’s face. They could do this. It would be okay. The asset Steve had known before wouldn’t have struggled. Maybe Bucky was healing enough that they could do this without HYDRA hanging over them every moment. Even if he was furious about it, at least they could have their awkward first times again.

“Maybe you’ve lost your muscle memory of this,” Steve told him, unable to stop beaming. “You’re out of practice.”

As predicted, Bucky scowled and huffed out, “I earned those skills, Steve. They are not rusted.” He sat back on his heels and glared at Steve’s dick like it was calling him out.

Steve shrugged as well as he could while hanging from the cuffs. “Yes, Buck.”

“And don’t smile like that,” Bucky snapped.

A distant stinging sensation and the sudden tang of blood made Steve realize he was biting into the inside of his cheek.

“Fuck it,” muttered Bucky. “I’m prob’lly overthinking it.” With that, he dove right back in and this time didn’t seem to have any intention of coming up for air.

“Ah,” Steve gasped. “Buh… Bucky” He wished he had a hand free so he could set his teeth against his fist or the back of a wrist. “Fuuuuck.” Nothing but hands on his dick for months and now Bucky’s mouth was on him and he couldn’t stay quiet. Had Bucky been practicing somehow? He had to be even better than before.

It was more than a little ironic that Bucky putting himself on his knees made Steve helpless in ways that had nothing to do with Steve being strung up from the ceiling.

Bucky pulled off with an exaggerated wet pop, shuddered all over, and shuffled forward to press his forehead to Steve’s inner thigh.

Steve bit back a whine.

“I changed my mind,” Bucky mumbled. “Make all the noise you like. Jus’ lemme know it’s you.”

“Bucky,” Steve said immediately. “Bucky. Okay there, pal?”

Long hair tickled his sensitive wet genitals as Bucky shook his head. “Stevie?”

“Yeah, Buck. What do you need?”

“I don’t want it like this.”

“Okay, Buck.” Steve slowed his pulse the best he could. Steve’s erection sure wasn’t getting the message. “Anything you want, you got it.”

They sat there for a minute or so. He wondered if Bucky was as hard and uncomfortable, but wasn’t sure what he hoped. He could look down and try to determine what was going on under Bucky’s pants, but the fact that Bucky was still wearing them was a damn good hint Bucky didn’t want him to do that. Bucky didn’t have to get off just because he wanted to get Steve off. If he even wanted to get Steve off.

Eventually, Bucky said, “Can’t we try it the other way? Tell me something you don’t want.”

Well, that finally had an effect on his errant anatomy. This conversation. He didn’t say it, but Bucky didn’t let him get away with silence either.

“No, Steve. Fair’s fair. Tell me something you don’t want to do with me.”

More than a little worried about what fair’s fair meant in this context, Steve answered with something he really didn’t want, but knew he could deal with if Bucky needed to prove a point. “Shower sex. I don’t want shower sex. Never again.”

“Okay. I was kinda lookin’ forward to it, though, not gonna lie. Kinda reassuring to see everyone else naked.”

Steve flexed his hands in the cuffs. Jesus. Everyone else? Did Bucky think that was an actual possibility now?

“I can’t do it, Buck.”

Cheekbones pressed to Steve’s knee, Bucky sighed. “Fine.” There was another silence. “Keep talking,” Bucky reminded him.

“What don’t you want?”

Bucky said nothing.

“Fair’s fair?”

“Fuck you, Rogers.”

Unable to help himself, Steve snickered. “Damn. I was kinda lookin’ forward to it, though.”

“You’re a goddamn punk.”

“I thought we just took that off the table?”

Bucky glared.

“Yeah, okay. Seriously, though. How do I not hurt you again?”

Bucky ducked his head so his hair fell over his face and mumbled something quiet and muffled enough he had to know even Steve’s hearing couldn’t pick it up.

“What?”

“I said don’t share me. Ever. With anyone. Even if I…” Hesitating, he pressed his face higher into Steve’s thigh. “Even if I offer.”

Bucky might never be able to stop testing him.

“I’ve never wanted to share you with anyone,“ Steve said, but then realized it wasn’t true strictly true. “Well, Peggy, maybe. But that was just a fantasy.”

“I still like women. That okay?”

“Yeah, of course. So do I.”

“You’re not worried I can’t be loyal?”

Laughter punched itself out of Steve’s chest. “Bucky, you’re the most loyal person I’ve ever known and that’s an evil stereotype anyway. I don’t want anything you don’t want to give me, though. You’re not my possession.”

“What if I need to be? At least a little.”

“You can be mine without being a thing I gotta keep under control.”

Bucky sat back on his heels and smirked up at him. “Can we agree to believe that? No take-backs.”

“Sure thing, pal.”

There was a beat of awkward stillness until Steve shifted on his feet, trying to settle his body again.

“Right then,” Bucky said. “Back to the suck job, but I need you to keep talking. Shouldn’ be a problem. Time was, I couldn’t stop you from running your mouth if I tried.”

Steve squeezed his eyes shut at the first touch of lips and tongue. “Yeah,” he grit out. “I don’t know what even happened.”

No reply. Bucky had his hands on Steve’s hips as he pressed forward. The head of Steve’s dick brushed Bucky’s tonsils. Steve shouted and turned his head as much as he could to muffle the cry in his bare shoulder before he remembered. “Bucky. Bucky. Puh- Fuck. Bucky.”

Bucky pushed his hips away, backing off to take him more shallowly. Barely more than the head was inside now and Bucky’s efforts became slower as he licked and sucked at it. The motions were completely unlike anything he had done to Steve before, graceless and sloppy in a way that felt both right and wrong.

The asset didn’t touch him like this. It wouldn’t control his movement. It always did its best.

A rush of overwhelming fondness and gratitude left Steve breathless in a way he could fight even less than the pleasure. “Bucky. You’re so…” he choked out. “I love you. Thank you. I love you,” he babbled.

This was the asset. Bucky was the Winter Soldier. The Winter Soldier was Bucky. Everything was deliberate, calculated for maximum effect. The target was Steve’s emotions instead of his body. Bucky was really really good at hitting targets. Steve wished he knew more Russian endearments. Endearments he could be certain lacked any bad associations. Endearments he could use to prove his love for all of his most important person.

To his embarrassment, he only realized he had said that part when Bucky laughed at him a little. He didn’t pause or pull off, so the vibrations went straight to Steve’s aching balls.

The skin-warmed metal of Bucky’s left hand came away from the hip it was holding back and wrapped around the exposed section of Steve’s cock. He looked down to watch Bucky’s metal hand jerking him off more roughly than an unenhanced man could probably enjoy.

“C’mon,” Bucky said thickly, pulling back for only a second. “Come whenever you’re ready, Stevie. Not gonna make you wait.” The metal grip of his hand stroked over Steve’s entire length, once, twice, again, and then let go to return to Steve’s hip. Bucky inhaled and then caught the tip of Steve’s cock on his tongue and swallowed him all the way down in a single smooth movement.

“Christ. Fuck, Bucky. You’re so. Fucking. Incredible. Bucky,” Steve more whimpered than said. There was nothing fumbling about this now and there couldn’t be anything awkward either.

Bucky pulled Steve’s orgasm out of him like he’d been holding it on a string all along. It blindsided Steve. His legs gave out.

“Bucky,” he breathed. Ignoring the ache that had grown in his muscles, he hung limply from the cuffs and let his head roll on his neck. “Bucky.”

“HYDRA happened,” Bucky said later, once he’d freed Steve’s pliant form and carried him to bed. Waiting for him was a damp handtowel long since gone cold, but that was fine. Going anywhere near the bathroom would have ruined all sense of comfort. “Might always be in bed with us. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, Buck,” Steve mumbled into Bucky’s shirt. “M’sorry.”

“Shut the fuck up, Steven Grant,” Bucky sighed. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

“Still sorry.”

“Stop saying that or I’ll have to add sorry to the list.”

Steve chuckled weakly and tried not to burst into tears. “I don’t deserve you.” He hid his burning eyes against Bucky’s clothed chest and tried to even his breathing.

They lay quietly together for a long time.

“Hey, Steve?”

With great effort, he lifted his head and hummed to indicate his attention.

“That part at the beginning when I fucked up sucking you?”

“Mm,” said Steve.

“You know I was fakin’ it, right? I never lose skills. Lost. Never lost.”

“Sure, lover-mine,” said Steve, vaguely attempting to merge his cheek with Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky made a noise of disgruntlement. “I’m not sure I like that.”

“Huh?” He had to unstick his thoughts from Bucky’s skin. “I really do get what... Oh. Shit. Sorry. Too possessive?”

“What did I say ‘bout sorry, Steve? Lover. It’s not the right word.”

“Hmm?” Steve reluctantly propped himself up. “Better idea?”

“Haven’t I always been your partner?”

That didn’t take any brain power to answer. “Partner, then.” He groped for Bucky’s nearest hand and brought it to his lips to kiss the knuckles. He held it between them instead of releasing it. It was the metal one, but Bucky didn’t seem to mind.

A minute later, Bucky ventured, “Was it good for you? Do you want to do more?”

Steve snorted. “Always, Buck.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Steve squeezed his hand and kissed him, soft and gentle, but not tentative.

“So, what haven’t you done that you still want to do? I mean, you were pitcher, not catcher, right?”

OMG I can't breathe! This is so good so much good so amazingly good OMG!

(A!A) Worth the wait, I hope? :-)

SA
Yes! Definitely worth the wait! This story makes me feel the FEELS! I love it!

There were a lot of things Steve had struggled not to fantasize about for a large part of the past century. Post-coital cuddling was doing him nicely at the moment. He didn’t want a new argument. That said, he hadn’t missed Bucky’s struggle with the blowjob. Rushing into things after one success felt like a bad plan.

Slowly, he said, “I’d be happy to be catcher sometime.”

“Sometime,” Bucky repeated, very neutral.

“I mean, not tonight. We can… let things settle a little first, right? We don’t need to jump right into everything.”

“No, Steve,” said Bucky, still very very neutral and even. “Of course we can let things settle. Dunno why I thought you might want to do anything else. We don’t need to jump right into everything, you aggravating punk! And don’t you fucking dare say you’re sorry.”

Closing his mouth, Steve tried not to wince and failed. He could tell Bucky was glowering at him now, even though he couldn’t see his expression.

“Jesus Christ, Steve. I don’t know if I want to admire your newfound restraint or punch you in the face.”

“Can you tell me why you’re angry now?” Therapy was good for learning to continue uncomfortable conversations.

“I just did.”

“Then I didn’t understand.”

With a deep despairing sigh, Bucky at least turned into him to press his face to Steve’s chest. “Why are you so stupid, Rogers.”

Well, that wasn’t so bad. Steve smiled fondly. “Maybe I’m just overwhelmed by the handsome fella in my bed?”

Bucky snorted. “Stupid,” he said again, but the insult was affectionate. “I’m mad because you used to jump into things all the time and now you have chronic cold feet. I mean, you used to have the cold feet before too, but they were a hellavalot more literal back then.”

“Mmm,” said Steve, noncommittal. He kissed Bucky’s right collarbone.

“I…” Bucky’s voice wavered, perilously close to breaking. Steve could feel the warmth of his uneven breaths on his bare skin. “I don’t really want you to make the decisions here. For you to make me do things. Even if it would be easier. It’s. It’s just not fair. Not fair to ask that. Not fair this isn’t easy for us.”

Steve said nothing. We hit puberty in the 1930s. Never was gonna be easy, pal. No, that made him sound like an insensitive asshole. He couldn’t say he was sorry or even that he fully understood Bucky’s feelings. I love you. I’m lucky you can stand the sight of me. He could say that. The first part, at least.

“I love you,” Steve said. “Partner.”

“But you love the Winter Soldier too, right?”

Steve took a deep lungful in through his nose. Even now, notes of leather, sweat, and smoke remained, though they were overpowered by arousal, fear, and fresher, healthier scents. “Yeah. Because I love you,.”

“But you want to keep taking it slow. Make me call the shots.”

Settling his arms around Bucky’s neck, Steve tucked them closer together. “I want to be yours. I want you inside me.”

Obligingly, Bucky threw a leg over Steve’s legs. “Are you sure you want that? You don’t just think you owe it to me or something?”

“I’ve been tryin’ not to fantasize about it since you told me about your first time you hit a homerun with a dame.”

“Shit, Steve. I don’t remember when that was, but we musta been…”

“A hellavalot younger than we are now, yeah.”

“Did I do that a lot?”

He had to think about it. His impression had always been that Bucky mostly saw them home with a kiss. At most, he used his mouth or fingers. How many girls had Bucky actually put his dick in? Two? Three? Three, he decided, and not one of them after he and Steve had starting living together. He might have had sex with them more than once, but there hadn’t been that many times. Bucky had been rightly terrified of getting someone in the family way and they could still have a lot of fun without risking it. If there had been more girls while he was in the army, Bucky had never said.

Bucky cleared his throat awkwardly and Steve blurted out the first response that came to mind. “Bucky, no. You played the dating game like nobody’s business, but you usually gave girls the kind of good time that couldn’t get anyone in trouble.”

“Pregnant, you mean,” Bucky stated plainly. “But that couldn’t happen with men. Did I ever tell you about fucking men? I don’t remember doing it, but…”

But he didn’t remember a lot, when it came right down to it. Still, this was a question Steve felt confident answering.

“As far as I know, you’ve never been the penetrative partner during anal sex with a man or a woman,” he said and shifted uncomfortably. He could feel himself going pink. “You got a finger in me at the Retreat, but I think that was just to prove prostates exist so I’d fuck you. We, ah, we broke a few other rules at the time too.” Personal experience seemed to be confirmed by what he’d seen of the asset’s files. Female agents had ridden it as part of the reward system, but they were still topping.

He felt more than heard Bucky swallow thickly. “I remember the Retreat. I think. Most of it. The whips were somewhere else, though, right?”

His heart clenched, exactly like and nothing like the palpitations he used to suffer. “Th-” -at’s right. No. He wasn’t saying that. “Yeah, Buck. That mighta been the safehouse after the mission before the Retreat. You were wiped twice between, so no wonder if they’re a little mixed up.” They almost never talked specifics like this. What was he doing? And yet, Bucky seemed to be clutching Steve tighter instead of doing the reasonable thing and getting the fuck away from him.

“The part about the... I don’t want that,” Bucky said, almost subaudible. “Sometimes I might want some of what helped me as the asset, but I don’t want that. P-punishments. I didn’t-”

Shocked and sickened, Steve stumbled over his own words of denial. “God, Buck. Me either. Never again. No more-”

Bucky interrupted him. “I don’t want to worry about other people or play power games. I want to make love.”

I love you. I don’t deserve you, but I love you so much.

“Then that’s what we’ll do. When we’re both ready.”

“When we’re both ready,” Bucky agreed.

A few days later, Steve finally got his mouth on Bucky’s beautiful hard cock. They were in the gym, doing their best to pretend like they were comfortable where anyone might walk in. Steve looked over to see how Bucky was doing and was treated to the sight of Bucky stretching his arms over his head before laying a hand towel across the back of his sweaty neck. The heathered dark gray tank top he wore pulled tight over his chest, riding up to expose a strip of glistening skin, and Steve made a desperate percussive noise like he was being choked.

Bucky met his eyes and smiled and it took all Steve’s self-control not to simply turn away from the speed bag and stumble toward him like some sort of lurching lust-zombie.

“Can I…” He realized his wrapped hands were trembling at the same moment Bucky shifted the way he held himself to make the bulge in his sweats obvious. “Oh, God. Bucky. Can I… do something for you?”

Hesitation and something like regret crossed Bucky’s face. “I need to wash the sweat off.”

Swallowing a mouth suddenly full of saliva, Steve nodded. “Okay. Later?”

Bucky bit his lip and looked away for a moment before looking back with nervous determination. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

They had a few false starts due to Steve’s inexperience and Bucky’s initial panic that having someone’s mouth on him felt wrong, not allowed. They’d gotten there, though.

Later had come, and so had Bucky, staring down at Steve with what could only be described as wonder in his wet eyes.

James Barnes was officially reinstated among the living and cleared of responsibility for actions taken between his fall from the train and walking into the tower of his own volition. Neither Bucky nor Steve paid much thought to the media frenzy outside. Steve had pre-recorded and approved statements. Bucky did too, but it was only a single soundbite, filmed by Steve’s phone on the roof of the tower with Bucky turned half away to look out at a New York sunrise and loose hair blowing around his face.

“I’m just grateful to have a chance to be a person again. I didn’t know… I didn’t know a lot. A year ago, being Bucky Barnes and knowing Steve Rogers wasn’t even a possibility. It didn’t seem plausible that I could be anything but what they told me I was. Good thing it’s kinda hard to deny Captain America.”

“Oh my God, Buck,” Steve said, skin radiating more than his usual high-metabolism heat. “You can’t say that on national news. International news. Jesus Christ.”

Bucky stared flatly at him. “You said I could say whatever I wanted.”

That was true.

“Besides, you’ve been denying me a lot more,” Bucky went on. “But no one needs to know that part.”

Damn everything straight to hell, that was also true.

A sudden rush of readiness ran through him. Feeling clear-headed and reckless, Steve blurted, “I’m not denying you anything anymore. Try me.” It wasn’t quite the same as starting a fight but the desperate physicality of the urge was a close thing. He realized he’d set his jaw like he was inviting a punch.

Catching the shift in demeanor, Bucky bit his lower lip and frowned at him while Steve held very still under his scrutiny. Finally, Bucky’s body language softened. He reached out with his right hand and cupped Steve’s jaw. “Steve. Can I take you to bed? I want to do more than try you.”

Steve’s shiver was not because of the chill in the air. “Yes.”

The hand ran from this cheek down his neck, under his arm, and around his back. Bucky pulled him into his side. “Okay.”

I love this! It seems like they are trying so hard for each other! Thank you for writing this amazing thing!

(A!A) Thank you!

By the time they made it back down to their floor, Steve’s confidence was waning, like he was flying down a zip line and not sure how to safely land.

Bucky gently tossed him on the bed, reached for his belt, saw his face, and immediately stopped and sat back instead. “Hey,” he said gently. “I know you’re nervous. We don’t have to do this. No one has a gun to our heads. If you’re not ready, we can-”

Steve fisted a handful of bedclothes. “I want to.” He swallowed, skin alight, and held Bucky’s wary gaze. “I want you to fuck me.” A sudden thought occurred to him. “Unless… Do you not want to? I don’t think you ever explicitly said. I mean, I know, some guys are never comfortable with it and-”

“Steve.” Bucky was shaking his head.

Heart sinking, Steve stopped talking. Maybe Bucky wasn’t interested in that after all. He’d said he wanted to take Steve to bed, but that didn’t mean anything specific.

“Before,” said Bucky. “If we… I would have laid you out with your skinny legs over my shoulders and your bony ankles digging into my back - or maybe my neck. I would have put a hand-”

“-over my mouth so the neighbors didn’t catch on,” Steve finished breathlessly. The shape of the potential new horror had started to coalesce.

This time, Bucky looked away. “You were always so brave, even when you were hurt or sick or all but helpless sometimes. Stupid, but brave.”

Oh, God. Bucky.

“Sometimes, when they rewarded me by fucking me how I liked, I didn’t… It was so wrong. I didn’t imagine I was Bucky. I went away in my head. And I. I imagined I was you. You. Being fucked. By Bucky.” The sound Bucky made was not a laugh. “I imagined I was you being fucked by me.”

So that was it. It didn’t make anything better to understand, but he didn’t think it made it worse either. After everything, not making it worse counted for a lot.

But Bucky was continuing to speak, picking up speed and pitch, and not looking at Steve. His body was otherwise distressingly motionless. “I’m sorry. It was wrong. I don’t know if they ever knew. If they. If they would have punished me for it or found it amusing or conditioned me to think I was Captain America or what and I. It was sick. I shouldn’t have, but-”

“No,” said Steve, scrambling forward to grasp Bucky’s shoulders. He didn’t know how to feel about the revelation, other than not worse, but he knew what he had to say. “No. If it brought you any comfort or made any of it easier for you to bear, it wasn’t wrong. I’d never grudge you any of it. I’m glad you had that.”

To Steve’s clavicle, Bucky explained, “I told you. They never took you out of my head. Not all the way. Even when Steve Rogers was just a concept. I think I remember it from my training. I could control myself in pain. Feeling good was terrifying. I had no control, but I was punished for losing control. That position - too close, too intimate. I didn’t feel brave. I couldn’t imagine-” His voice cracked. “Bucky being brave. But the scrawny Brooklyn kid who never learned to stay down? I could imagine him being brave.” Slowly, his shoulders eased down. “I’m. I’m really fucked up, Steve. I don’t know if I’ll ever have my head on right. I don’t know a lot. Some of what I know is probably just my imagination.” He glanced up just long enough to make momentary eye contact before dropping his whole head to Steve’s shoulder.

Automatically, Steve pulled him into his lap and wrapped his arms around him. After working his jaw silently for maybe half a minute, Steve said, “I think I hear what you’re not saying, and you’re wrong. You’re not a disappointment and I’m not gonna get upset if you don’t think of yourself as Bucky all the time. I told you. I’m with you to the end of the line, Soldier.”

The other supersoldier’s body shuddered slightly.

“We were reunited under the worst of circumstances. I used you. You still tried to protect and warn me. And I don’t fault you for protecting yourself, no matter what. You were protecting someone I love.”

“Stevie.” It was a nearly-inaudible rasp.

Steve’s shirt was growing damp. He smelled salt.

“I’m with you,” Steve repeated softly. “I love you. You’re my partner.”

They sat together quietly until Bucky sniffed and pulled away to scrub at his face with the back of his right hand. “I think I want a shower, but.”

But.

“I can stay here. You can take a bath. Whatever you want,” Steve promised.

“I don’t want to be alone,” Bucky said immediately. “You said no baths together. Naked canoodling.”

“Naked canoodling in the bath is fine with me now if it’s fine with you,” said Steve, chagrined he hadn’t made that clear before. “We can even make it a bubble bath.”

“Okay,” Bucky agreed.

It didn’t take long to prepare the bath and it was still relatively early in the day, so it wasn’t like they had much more to do than wash their faces and soak in the heat.

“Steve?” Bucky murmured. He tapped a foot against Steve’s side.

Startled from a half-doze, Steve sat up.

“I know I kinda derailed the conversation earlier,” Bucky said, “but I was tryna tell you that I wanted it too. It’s just that I can’t see it happening from that perspective. My mind shies away from it when I try. I want to, though. We can make it good for both of us. Just some work. I don’t want to hurt you or freak you out.”

“Right,” said Steve, doing his best to re-focus. “Hey. Since we’re already in the water and all, do you maybe want to…”

He trailed off at Bucky’s expression.

“Water’s not a good lubricant,” Bucky said.

Steve frowned. He’d seen Bucky open himself up. The sight had haunted him after the Lockbox. “But-”

“Used to discomfort and my left hand has no fingernails. Plus, my ass was trained.”

“I can-”

Water sloshed violently as Bucky crossed his arms. “Maybe I don’t want you to, Steve. I don’t want it to be anything but good for you.” He winced. “It probably won’t be very good the first time. I can teach you how to bottom, but I don’t know how the rest goes. Not really.”

There had to be better than they knew from HYDRA. He considered asking JARVIS for educational resources and instantly discarded the idea as beyond the bounds of decency.

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say I can do,” objected Steve, but only because he couldn’t not argue.

“I mostly fingered myself to make sure I was clean enough for Rumlow,” Bucky stated flatly. “And you, later on. No different from washing out my hair. STI’s weren’t a consideration, so he never minded too much if I bled a little. If I didn’t wear the plug on the mission, maybe I’d do some brief maintenance stretching to make sure my rim didn’t immediately tear if someone got impatient, but water’s not the best for it. That’s why lube was included in my standard kit.”

Whatever face Steve was making only made Bucky laugh.

“Relax, Steve. It’s not like that now. You said it: we can take our time getting ready.”

Steve was working on it. “Okay, Buck. You’re in charge.”

“Damn right, I am.”

Bucky’s PR manager asked if they could make another video, one in which Bucky explicitly identified himself as Bucky Barnes.

“No,” said Bucky, though his eyes went to Steve with wariness. “That’s what I want to say and how I want to say it. Steve calls me Bucky plenty.”

On their way out, Steve said, “You are Bucky.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, but you can call me the other names too. Remind me. I can be the asset too because I’m really both.”

“We’re real, Soldier,” Steve promised. “I’m not about to feed you lines.”

“How ‘bout feeding me lunch?”

“That, I can and will do.”

That evening, Bucky came back from a therapy appointment with handful of printed pages and a completely blank face. His left hand was clutching the rolled top of a brown paper lunch bag with so much force his fingertips had punched through.

Relieved to have a reason to abandon the book he had been failing to read the first few pages of for the last hour, Steve set it aside and waited.

There was a bench in the middle of the row of windows on the far end of the floor. Steve wasn’t surprised when Bucky sat down there, back to the windows, and commenced staring into the middle distance.

“Buck?” Steve prompted quietly.

Bucky barely glanced at him. Neither of his hands showed any sign of releasing their burdens.

Cracking his neck as he rose, Steve studied him. Bucky wanted something; his behavior all but screamed for a response. Steve took a step toward him, then two. No reaction. Another. Steve was almost in reach of him before Bucky said, “Stop.”

Freezing in place, Steve waited again.

“I’m supposed to ask questions if I have them,” Bucky told him, still staring into space. His words were the steady cadence of the asset reporting. “I asked. I was given these.” He lifted the papers in his right hand. “And these.” He lifted his the bag in his left. “I don’t know if I can do it, Steve.” Finally, he met Steve’s eyes. “But I don’t think it’s gonna be any easier tomorrow, so maybe we should go for it.” His lips twisted. “Maybe you could order me to do it.”

“Buck,” Steve started to protest.

Bucky shook his head. “Or, I have another idea, but I don’t think you’ll go for that one. I didn’t. I didn’t seriously plan to keep it to use.”

Steve lowered himself to his knees in front of Bucky, careful to keep his eyes on his face instead of looking at what he was holding. “I’m never ordering you to perform any sex act ever again.”

“Permission, then,” Bucky snarled, flushing abruptly. “Or we take all inhibitions off the table like… like…” He deflated. “Don’t look at me like that, Steve. I know. Just… I hate feeling like we have to wait for the goddamn stars to align or something. Sex should be fun, not…” He dropped his head with a sigh and thrust his fistful of papers out. “Here.”

The papers appeared to be a printout of an internet article about safe gay sex. At a glance, most of it didn’t seem relevant. VD, or STI as it was now called, was not a concern for two supersoldiers. “Do I want to know what’s in the bag?” he ventured.

The bag was promptly shoved in his face. “Nothing HYDRA usually bothered with. I guess anyone authorized for my secondary fuck-tion was screened?”

Did he just? Steve blinked. Was that a pun? He looked in the bag and poured a handful of small packets out onto the floor between them. “I don’t know most of these brands, but I take it these are all…”

“Condoms,” Bucky confirmed darkly. “Fucking condoms. Like we need anything else coming between us. And, get this, we’re supposed to have fun experimenting. I thought the point was for me to be less triggered!”

Taken off-guard, Steve let out a burst of air almost like a giggle. Bucky gaped at him.

In surrender, Steve put his hands up and tried to keep his trembling lips sealed.

Scowling, Bucky aimed a half-serious kick at his thigh.

Instinctively, Steve caught his ankle. As his brain caught up with his body, he yanked hard and pulled Bucky out of his seat.

“You punk!” Bucky yelped, and then they were scrambling to pin each other, words done.

“You realize I’m only letting you think you’re letting me pin you,” panted Bucky, some minutes later.

Face in the carpet, Steve grunted something Bucky could interpret however he wished.

“What was that?” He let up so Steve could raise his head.

“We gotta get out of this tower,” Steve told him. “Change of scenery.”

“And get eaten alive? No thanks,” countered Bucky.

But Steve was already wriggling his way free, fueled by a grimly cheerful determination. “C’mon. We’ll be fine. All we have to do is make a reservation someplace they can’t approach us and take a car there. Like a pair of regular swells.”

With a heavy sigh, Bucky rolled off and sprawled on his back on the floor, right hand over his eyes. “This ain’t abouta fix our problem, Steve.”

“It’s not a mission, Buck. We have no orders-”

“Our PR team was pretty fucking clear on our orders-”

Steve ignored that. “-and we’re gonna start chewing the walls if we don’t get out to stretch our legs.”

“Jesus Christ.” Bucky groaned. “No.”

The papers were in crumpled shreds and they would probably be finding condoms under furniture for months, but Steve could only grin. He’d never get tired of hearing Bucky argue.

They didn’t get caught. JARVIS’ silence upon their return felt disapproving, but the headiness of the shared disobedience was such that once they were through their own door they barely had to make eye contact to know the other was on board. Bucky, already half-naked, pushed Steve against the wall and finished helping him out of his clothes just enough to get a hand between them. They didn’t go any farther, and neither of them pushed for more.

Long after they went to bed, Steve lay awake while Bucky slept the relieved and exhausted sleep of the justifiably paranoid. Eventually, Steve considered getting up and attempting to sleep somewhere else. He got up and went to sit on the couch, but he didn’t feel tired enough to lie down. Instead, he went back into their bedroom and took the lube from the bedside table. Bucky fucking him wasn’t a mission, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t approach it strategically.

For the next few days, they didn’t discuss the prospect of getting Bucky’s dick in Steve’s ass. Really, not talking about that was quite an accomplishment because they were talking a lot more in general. It was… good, in a bizarre and agonizing way. Talking, in specifics, about HYDRA and how they’d hurt each other - been used against each other - felt like finally abrading a wound they’d been trying to leave to heal on its own. Bucky even said he felt relieved to compare and discuss their experiences. His memories remained fragmented and blurred, while Steve’s were all too clear. Between them, they finally had enough context to understand what they had done and why. Contrary to Steve’s expectations, Bucky cared a lot less about the what than the why.

“Gotta face it, Steve. I’m never going to remember most of my past.”

“We don’t know that,” Steve insisted doggedly. “You’re still healing.”

“Steve.”

That tone was almost always enough to make Steve shut his mouth nowadays, however reluctantly.

“Does it matter that much, practically speaking?” Bucky asked. “I know the shape of my past now, even if I don’t remember all the details. I trust you to give me accurate information, so I can make good choices.”

Looking away, Steve fought not to flinch at the - he hoped - unintentional reminder of the first time he had put Bucky in the maintenance chair. “I’m trying.”

“Yeah, you’ve always been extraordinarily trying,” Bucky said matter-of-factly, but there was a touch of teasing that brought Steve’s head back around to look at him. “The point I’m trying to make is that I know what I want now and no memory is gonna change my mind - no matter if I remember more rapes and missions or shared beds and pining. It’s my life. Maybe I can’t control what I remember, but I can choose to focus on what parts of that get to keep their importance, and I don’t want you to keep beating yourself up for every single thing you think you’ve ever done wrong. I don’t want either of us to suffer anymore.”

Painful though the process was, Steve was finally starting to feel like they might be draining out enough of HYDRA’s poison to move forward without making things worse. He had a plan. Whenever the goddamn stars aligned, he’d be as ready as possible. There wouldn’t have to be any delays and Steve would have no excuses. When the moment was right, it would be finally be easy, like Bucky deserved something to be.

He tried not to anticipate too much. He certainly didn’t anticipate Bucky walking in on his now-nightly preparations. The Winter Soldier was as capable of silent movement as he ever had been.

“So this is what you’ve been doing in here without me,” Bucky said.

Steve froze, two fingers up his own ass, one foot up on the edge of the bathtub. He couldn’t read Bucky’s tone.

Bucky took a step forward and Steve started to straighten up.

“Hey, no, don’t stop on my account, Stevie. I don’ mind watching.”

Breath hitching, Steve held Bucky’s eyes and twisted his fingers. It wasn’t pleasure or pain, mostly pressure and warmth. His fingers weren’t quite deep enough to touch his prostate. They were maybe halfway to the second knuckle. He had, in fact, been avoiding it. He’d told himself he was leaving that for Bucky.

Bucky put the toilet seat down and sat on the closed lid, fully dressed. “Jus’ tell me. Is… Uh. Is this for me, Steve?”

Skin burning, Steve dipped his chin in a nod. Everything was for Bucky, when it came right down to it.

“Huh,” said Bucky. “What was the plan?”

“No specific plan,” Steve choked out. “I just… wanted to be ready whenever we were ready.”

“Okay,” said Bucky. A frown creased his forehead. “Keep going.”

Belatedly, Steve realize he’d stopped moving his fingers. Didn’t seem like the sort of thing a man should be able to forget about, but there it was. He carefully flexed the two inside him in a vaguely circular motion.

“Been doin’ this every night, Steve?” Bucky asked, voice low and rough. His pupils were large, but there was still a line between his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Steve confessed. “Since our night out.”

Eyes falling to Steve’s not quite full cock, Bucky said, “You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself too much.”

Huffing a weak laugh, Steve said, “That wasn’t really the point, Buck.”

“Uh huh. So, it’s not just that your technique’s lousy.”

“No, no, it’s not.”

“Not lousy?

“Buck,” Steve grit out. He felt embarrassed and self-conscious. His erection wilted a little more. The pressure and drag of his fingers was beginning to get uncomfortable. He probably hadn’t used enough lube.

“Pretty sure my technique has to be better than yours,” said Bucky. “I could demonstrate.”

“Whaddaya have in mind?” Steve asked, trying not to be annoyed. He thought it was an offer and not a taunt, but he wasn’t completely certain.

With what the tension in his shoulders said was false casualness, Bucky stood and pulled his shirt over his head. He tossed the shirt out the bathroom door and said, “Get back in the water.” He dropped his pants too. Underneath, he was all bare clean skin. The sight of him did things to Steve and he was past the point of caring more than a twinge if it was in any part conditioning.

Scrambling to obey, Steve nearly did himself a injury to a delicate area. As it was, he barked his left shin on the edge and sloshed some of the warm soapy water over the side onto Bucky’s bare feet.

“Clumsy?” Bucky was right there, leaning in. “I thought you were over that.”

“I’ll always be clumsy for you, Buck,” Steve blurted and immediately wished he’d knocked himself unconscious instead. He rubbed at his leg.

Bucky didn’t seem impressed. “You’re clumsy because you’re too tense. Let me wash your hair.”

Pot, kettle. “I already… Oh.” Steve ducked his head away, reaching for the shampoo.

Taking it out of his hand, Bucky wasted no time squeezing some directly into Steve’s hair and working it into a lather. “Your hair’s growing.”

“Mmhm,” agreed Steve. He’d better cut it before they ended up matching. On the other hand, he was really enjoying Bucky’s fingers combing through it. Would Bucky let him return the favor?

Now Bucky’s hands were on his shoulders, squeezing the muscle tension out like he could make Steve relax by force. Maybe he could. “Oh,” Steve breathed again. He couldn’t go as boneless as he wanted because of the water, but-

“Deep breath.”

Steve slipped underwater without thinking about it. Bucky’s left hand pressed him down while his right scrubbed through his hair again. A tug and Steve broke the surface easily.

“Cream rinse?” Bucky breathed in his ear.

Despite the hot water, Steve shivered. “Can I…” He lifted a hand out of the water, not sure what he was asking.

“No,” Bucky denied. “Let me take care of you.”

The hand fell with barely a splash.

Bucky worked the product in every bit as thoroughly as he had the shampoo, then pulled gently. “Close your eyes.”

When Steve did, Bucky used his cupped hands to pour water over his head. “Out of the water,” he ordered.

Steve’s feet were barely on the floor before Bucky wrapped him in a fluffy bath towel, draped another over his head, and scooped him up bodily. “Bucky!” Steve exclaimed in half protest and half laughter.

“I want you in our bed,” said Bucky, carrying him out. “I’m ready if you are.”

He’d thought the evening was heading this way, but he still had to swallow hard past the lump of nerves. “Yeah. Let’s do it. I. Yes.”

“Yes?” Bucky’s stride faltered a moment in the door to their bedroom. “You mean it, Steve?” He deposited him gently on their bed.

Meeting the gaze of the supersoldier hovering uncertainly over him, Steve said, “Yes, Bucky.” This was all according to plan. “I’ve dreamed of you inside me. I want you.”

Bucky bit his lower lip and looked down before raising his eyes to Steve’s again. “That doesn’t mean you have to like the reality. Even if you’re completely sure now, you can still change your mind at any time. You know how to stop me.”

“I won’t.”

“You will if you want to,” Bucky said firmly. “Not need to. Want to. No one is making me hurt you - not even you. That’s important. Got it?”

“Yes,” Steve agreed. “I’ll say something if I want to. And so will you. No soldiering on for either of us.”

“Ha,” gasped Bucky, smiling crookedly. “Yeah, none of that.”

For a few seconds, Steve smiled back. Then he realized he hadn’t really dried off and his hair was a dripping mess. His smile turned sheepish as he reached up to grab the towel Bucky had laid over his hair. “I’m gonna get the bed all wet.”

“Promise?” Bucky whispered, leaning in with clear intent.

They kissed, sweet and deep and lingering, and Steve felt his lingering nerves settle into anticipation. “Whatever you want, Buck,” he breathed.

Goosebumps rose on his damp skin. He was halfway wrapped in the big bath towel and sprawled on their bed on his back where Bucky had put him down. Naked. They were both naked. Bucky was going to fuck him. Everything would be good.

Bucky took the towel from him and proceeded to rub him down in a way that Steve had never previously considered could be errotic but might prevent him from ever picking up a towel in public again for the rest of his life.

“Roll over,” Bucky told him and Steve felt his flush deepen in an instant as he complied.

Laughing at him, Bucky said, “I meant so I can fix the towel situation, Steve!”

Mortified, he opened his mouth and closed it without a word. Bucky laughed harder, eventually collapsing onto the bed next to him in a fit of giggles.

“I love you,” Steve mumbled to the bedspread, knowing his face was aflame.

Once Bucky’s giggles subsided, they quickly got themselves and the bed in order. The sheets were turned down and the damp towels were laid out under Steve’s backside. Bucky knelt in the vee of Steve’s legs. Steve squirmed a little under his hungry scrutiny. They were both mostly hard.

Bucky blinked rapidly and shook his head like he was trying to wake up. “Fuck. Lube. We need lube.” He half slid, half tumbled off the bed in his effort to reach into the nightstand.

He should have crawled over Steve instead. That would have been nice. Or maybe it would have been too many elbows and knees in uncomfortable places, but it would have been worth it to have Bucky’s skin against him.

“Lube!” Bucky said triumphantly, returning to the center of the bed.

Steve huffed out a noise that was half-laugh, half-sigh. “So how do you want to do this?”

It was Bucky’s turn to laugh. “First we take the edge off?” he suggested, the flirty promise on his face not overshadowed by the rueful wince that followed. “If that’s okay?”

Wiggling under him, Steve pulled him down for another kiss before saying, “Whatever you want to do is okay, but I like that plan.” It was something they were already comfortable with and neither of them needed to worry about their ability to get hard again after.

They came together easily, hot wet mouths against each other and Steve stroking them both off while Bucky held himself up with one hand and kneaded Steve’s ass with the other, warming the metal. The closer they got to organsm, the closer his fingers got to Steve’s hole.

Their rhythm faltered a moment when Bucky broke off kissing him to sit up and grab the lube. He applied it to his shining silver fingers and Steve’s whole body clenched in desperate want. The grip he had on their dicks tightened and he threw his head back and groaned.

“So close, Buck,” he panted. “You?”

“Yeah, Stevie,” said Bucky, cock pulsing hot against Steve’s own.

Orgasm hit them both, Bucky a little ahead of Steve. It wasn’t until after Steve’s head cleared that he realized Bucky’s slicked fingers were in him, rubbing unerringly against his prostate.

Steve made a strangled noise and the fingers went still.

“This okay?” Bucky checked, voice low.

“YES!,” Steve nearly shouted. “Yes, more. It’s good. I want it.”

“Okay, pal,” agreed Bucky. “I got you. More kissing?”

“God, yes,” said Steve. He slid one arm around Bucky’s ribs and the other hand on the back of his neck.

Kissing Bucky was always good. It was partly Bucky’s skill and experience, but Steve liked to think it was mostly good because it was Bucky, open and eager and giving even better than he got. Steve was under no illusions regarding his own kissing skills.

“Another?” Bucky murmured. He sissored his fingers inside Steve’s ass and grinned into Steve’s next desperate kiss.

How long they spent like that Steve couldn’t have said. It could have been five minutes or fifty. All that mattered was that it was good, intimate, and everything Steve had been avoiding in his previous lives. His dick was hard enough to almost hurt.

“That’s four,” Bucky breathed against his ear, kissing down his neck. “I think we…”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Steve cried through gritted teeth.

“How...” Bucky began to ask.

“Over… like you said…” Steve was beyond bushing now.

“You sure?” Bucky hesitated.

“Yeah. That’s ours, Buck,” Steve tried to explain.

“You got it, Stevie.”

They arranged themselves. Bucky stood shakily at the side of the bed and pulled Steve toward himself by the hips. Steve’s legs went over Bucky’s shoulders. He looked up into Bucky’s face. He felt fierce and tender and vulnerable and so relieved and happy he thought he might burst like a popcorn kernel. “I’m ready,” he promised.

“More than ready,” Bucky agreed. “And, hey, no neighbors to worry about.”

“Depends how loud I get,” Steve whispered, mouth abruptly dry.

Bucky’s expression was as complicated as Steve’s own emotions. “Guess we’ll find out.”

The head of Bucky’s cock was warm, blunt, wet, and slippery against Steve’s hole.The stretch and long slow slide as Bucky pushed inside him was so different than fingers. The strain on Bucky’s face as he slid home for the first time was a memory Steve would treasure for the rest of his life. It went on forever and no time at all.

“Oh,” Steve said stupidly as Bucky’s hips came to rest with his balls pressing gently against Steve’s ass. Nearly a century old and they were finally giving this last hard-kept piece of themselves to each other. He’d known better than to expect overwhelming physical pleasure from this part, but there was plenty of the non-physical kind. He couldn’t wait to experience the rest. He flexed his ass and watched Bucky’s eyes flutter momentarily shut with a hissed intake of breath.

After a few seconds, Steve realized Bucky really wasn’t moving at all. He was frozen in silent tension distinct from the earlier effort of restraining himself.

“Buck?”

Bucky’s adam’s apple bobbed but he kept eye contact.

“What is it?”

“I. I don’t know how to feel,” Bucky said slowly, testing.

“We can stop if you want,” Steve offered, trying not to clench his jaw or his ass and failing both.

“It’s a good thing Secretary Pierce is dead,” Bucky said.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed readily. “Care to tell me why that’s relevant?”

“Because a part of me just relaxed. You could counter all the orders except that one. To seduce you.”

Steve closed his eyes for a long moment and tried to think of absolutely nothing except the physical sensations. “I love you.” Bucky sure didn’t feel relaxed.

“Is it bad that I don’t mind the conditioning that tells me the smell of arousal means I’ve done something right?”

Is it bad that I want to reward you for continuing to exist? He didn’t say it. Instead, he laughed raggedly. “I’m feeling pretty damn thoroughly seduced, yeah. Gonna finish what you’ve started, Soldier?”

“Can I?”

“You don’t need my permission.”

“I do need to know I have your informed consent. I need to know you know I’m fucking you for us, not him. I love you.”

“Jesus Christ, Bucky. I know we said they might always be in bed with us, but if we could stop mentioning him specifically, I’d appreciate it.”

“Steve.”

“Besides, I doubt he meant for you do it like this.” He stopped at Bucky’s wild look and hastened to reassure him. “Yes, Buck. I’m all yours.”

“I love you,” Bucky repeated.

There wasn’t much space, but Steve flexed his legs to bring them closer together. “I love you too. I’m happy we’re doing this together.”

Hips stuttering forward in an abbreviated motion, Bucky said, “I’m not going to last. Fuck. You feel so good and we’re not even movin’ yet.”

“So get movin’ now,” Steve said. “You don’t have to last. You know that. We can keep going as many times as you want. C’mon. Let go.”

Trembling, Bucky stared down at him. “You might change your mind. Kick me or something if it gets to be too much.”

“I know,” Steve promised. “And you can stop anytime you need to, but I think we can do this all day if we put our minds to it. How about you fuck me proper and find out?” He flexed again and grinned at the way Bucky’s face scrunched up.

“Stubborn punk,” Bucky said, affectionately.

“Your punk,” Steve breathed.

“Fuck that’s hot,” Bucky groaned, tendons in his neck standing out and pupils blown.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. He squeezed a fistful of high quality terry cloth and slowly used his other hand to bring Bucky’s right over his mouth.

Bucky pulled out a little and slid back in before Steve could more than consider making any protest. “You’re gonna goddamn kill me, Stevie. Maybe I’m the one who needs t’be kept quiet here. Do you have any idea how fucking incredible you feel?” He thrust again, more strongly. “Spent so long fingering you and you’re still so damn tight. God, Steve.”

Unable to do more than breathe deeply through his nose (they really hadn’t thought out that part of the fantasy, he now realized) and every thought instantly obliterated by the awareness of Bucky inside of him, Steve didn’t realize he was whimpering until Bucky paused in concern. Nodded frantically, Steve clamped his legs against Bucky’s shoulder blades and bucked his hips up. It was a high rhythmic whining noise which seemed to come directly from his brain and bypass his mouth entirely. He didn’t even know he was capable of making most of those noises. God, Bucky felt gigantic inside him, even bigger than Steve knew he was really was.

He could have felt split open, invaded, dominated, or claimed. Those were the ideas people, and HYDRA particularly, had tried to put in their heads. He didn’t. He felt filled and warmed through. He felt safe. He felt free. They were doing this together because they wanted each other and wanted each other this way. Bucky wasn’t even hitting his prostate, but that was more than okay. Steve owed Bucky a million orgasms, and he’d reach his own eventually. There was no rush. Even if Bucky didn’t feel up to continuing tonight, they had the rest of their long lives to learn every way there was to make each other feel like this. Sex wasn’t all physical anyway. This was perfect. It was real, and it was theirs.

Several thrusts later, Bucky picked up his pace. He bent forward over Steve until Steve thought he might just fold him in half. Bucky pulled his hand away from Steve’s mouth and slapped it down on the bed next to Steve’s head so he could brace himself to lean down further.

“My Steve,” Bucky whispered thickly and took full advantage of Steve’s flexibility to kiss him as he thrust hard once more and stopped, cock pulsing, as deeply as their position allowed.

Bucky was coming inside him.

Steve threw his arms around as much of Bucky as he could get. “My Bucky,” he choked out. “All yours.” His own cock throbbed, twitching against the hard muscles of Bucky’s stomach. He didn’t care. Nothing was better than this moment.

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