Chapter Text
“Would you get the fuck over here?”
“Shit, Stevie, hold on. Christ, if I’da known the mouth you had on you when I picked you up -”
“Fuck off, I picked you up.”
Bucky rolls his eyes. The truth is probably somewhere in the middle but the undisputed facts are that when they met at that party the chemistry had been immediate. Bucky assumes. He’d felt like Steve had been mentally undressing him, but that could’ve been wishful thinking on his part. Steve had looked fucking edible in a rust colored sweater, v-neck exposing sharp collarbones, and his skin-tight jeans left no question as to the perfect ass on the kid. The worst, though (and by worst of course he means best) are the blue eyes that fill with sweet earnestness just as easily as flash with anger...Bucky was a goner from the moment he laid eyes on him.
So it’s no wonder he needs a minute, here in Steve’s room, because he’s a heartbeat away from coming just looking at the slender man laid out on the navy bedspread, arching his back up off the mattress and running his hands down his chest to his hips. His hair is already beautifully mussed in a way that Bucky could never pull off, and the desire to get his fingers in it overpowers his need for control, so he stalks over to the bed.
“So pretty when you show off like that, Stevie,” he murmurs, and sinks his fingers into the soft locks and pulls, exposing the pale column of his neck. “So fuckin’ pretty.” He bends over and latches on just below Steve’s ear, sucking a mark into the creamy skin. Claiming.
Steve moans in that surprisingly deep voice of his and it goes straight to Bucky’s dick. Jerking forward, he squeezes at the base to stave off the orgasm that’s hovering in his spine, tries to calm himself down.
Blinking up at him slow and heavy, Steve says, “C’mere,” and tugs him down and over. He’s all velvet skin over sinew-draped skeleton and Bucky’s torn between wanting to bite and lick at every delicate span of skin and folding him in half and fucking him ‘til he screams.
He wriggles down a little to prop himself up on his elbows but Steve catches him under the chin and pulls him in for a kiss, sweet and slow. Of course Bucky obeys. He licks into Steve’s mouth then pulls back to slide his own spit-slick lips over Steve’s, who whimpers.
“I got you, doll. I’ll take care of you.”
Steve watches with hooded eyes as Bucky runs his tongue over Steve’s nipples, clavicle, ribs… He loves that look, loves knowing that he makes Steve feel good. It’s more than Bucky deserves.
When Steve is good and wound up, Bucky sits up to roll that slender body onto his stomach then tugs at Steve’s hips, pulling him up to hands and knees. He knows Steve’s impatient, can feel him trembling, but it's been a week since he’s seen the kid and he‘s going to take his time.
He brushes flat palms up Steve’s back, hoping the movement covers the way his own hands are shaking, then back down to his ass.
“Come on, Buck,” Steve pants and Bucky grins before obeying (always obeying, he'd never say no to this beautiful man), leaning down, pulling the two handfuls of flesh apart and swiping his tongue over the exposed, fluttering hole.
Steve makes a fucking unholy sound in the back of his throat and pushes back. He's silk, he's cream, he's too goddamn perfect, and Buck loosens him up, slow and gentle until Steve is just whimpering repeatedly, pleading, and only then does Buck slip a slicked up finger inside him.
“Fuck,” Steve gasps. “Yeah. More, please Buck, please.”
“So polite when I’m fucking you,” Bucky teases and Steve glares at him over one delicately-boned shoulder.
“Ain’t fuckin’ me yet,” he gripes. It makes Bucky laugh, head thrown back and shoulders heaving and he doesn’t see the way Steve’s eyes and the corners of his mouth soften at the sight.
“Alright, alright,” Bucky says as he calms down, and eases another finger in.
“Jeez, don’t make it sound like such a hardship.
They may be fuckbuddies and not boyfriends but Bucky’s pretty fluent in Steve, Steve who puts up a fantastic front of “I don’t give a fuck”, but in reality, cares too much about everyone and everything.
Bucky curls over Steve’s back and whispers, “Not a hardship,” into the skin at the back of his neck.
“Then what?” Steve grumps into the pillow.
Bucky’s not much for emotional displays. He’s pretty casual in his day-to-day, jokes around a lot, but something about Steve makes him tender and sweet and he can’t help himself as he says, “Incredible. Overwhelming. So fuckin’ sexy.”
Steve snorts into the fabric, and Bucky noses behind his ear. “‘M serious, Stevie. Ain’t never seen anybody as beautiful as you.”
“Jesus,” Steve mutters, embarrassed, but Bucky can see the flush on the back of his neck, and eases another finger in. Steve arches up off the bed and Bucky catches him, a hand at his sternum, pulling up to kiss him deeply over his shoulder. He can’t help the fervor. Steve’s so fuckin’ gorgeous.
Bucky lets him go only to fuck him open with his fingers and his tongue, all the while thinking he’s in control of himself, but then Steve says, “Please, Buck,” again, and this time it’s different. His voice is so desperate, almost afraid. “Need to feel you. Please.
Bucky doesn’t understand how he got this lucky. The kid is gorgeous, long, lean lines where Bucky is clunky muscle. He’s just a fuckin’ shipyard worker, broke as a joke and grateful for the few things he has. Steve’s brilliant, a graphic designer for a major ad firm. His apartment is beautiful, only subtle hints to the amount of money he has, and that means nothing to Bucky other than to remind him how fucking out of his league Steve is.
But here he is, writhing beneath Bucky, begging to be fucked and Bucky’s starting to lose his mind a little. “Yeah, doll. I got you. Oh fuck,” he pants as he begins to press in. Steve’s so fucking tight, even still, but it doesn’t seem like he’s in any pain.
“Yeah, yeah, more, come on Buck.”
“Easy baby. You gotta go easy on me, ok? You’re too fucking perfect, don’t want this to be over in five minutes.”
Steve looks back over his shoulder again, this time looking blissed out but also sly. “Easy? You don’t want that. Me neither.” Bucky quirks a brow, but Steve keeps talking, that shit eating grin dancing around his mouth. “You wanna fuck me, hard and deep. Wanna feel me clench around you."
Bucky’s hips jerk forward of their own accord and Steve lets his eyes flutter closed for a moment, moaning, before continuing. “Come on, Buck. Fuck me. Make me feel you.” Bucky’s fully sheathed now and breathing deep in a frantic effort for control, just as much turned on by Steve’s words as his body, and starts rolling his hips shallowly. “Wanna know I’m yours.” Wait, what? “Show me I’m yours, Buck,” he whimpers, and Bucky loses it.
His hands snap out, grabbing Steve by his slender hips and pulling him back as he drives into him. The blonde falls forward onto his elbows then collapses all the way into the bed, muffling his “Oh fuck yes.”
The lean length of him spread out, legs as far apart as he can get them to accommodate Bucky in the best way possible, is breathtaking and Bucky feels his rhythm falter for just a moment. Steve rolls his body, fucking back onto Buck’s cock and the taller man shouts.
“You like that, Buck?” Steve gasps, and does it again.
“Yeah, baby, you’re perfect, so fucking good.” He speeds up, and he can tell now he’s hitting Steve’s prostate with every thrust, watching that beautiful body clench up each time.
“Please don’t stop,” Steve whispers, and Bucky wouldn’t dream of it. They fuck each other into increasingly removed oblivion for longer than Bucky thought they’d last, but when Steve starts trembling he hauls the smaller man up, one arm holding him tightly to Bucky’s chest and one stroking his cock in slick pulls, matching his rhythm. It’s good, so good, too good, and then Steve freezes up against Bucky lets go of that last thread of control, coming so hard that Steve has to lean back to tilt him onto his heels or he’d have crushed the kid.
“Fuck,” he pants. “Sorry."
“Don’t apologize,” Steve grins, flopping down next to him. “That was incredible.”
“No fucking kidding.”
They don’t really cuddle, not part of the standard fuckbuddy agreement, but that’s been getting exponentially harder for Bucky as the months have passed, so he fudges it where he can, like now, casually trailing his fingers up and down Steve’s chest. When he catches a glimpse of the time he mutters absently, “My train’s not for another hour.” Maybe he’ll go to the coffee shop down the street. They have day-old muffins for fifty cents. He could go for that.
“Why don’t you stay?” Steve mumbles. “I’ll make you some dinner.”
Bucky hopes the fondness isn’t too pronounced as he glances at Steve. “You don’t have to do that for me, Stevie."
“The fuck else are you gonna eat? You can’t cook for shit.”
“Ha!” Bucky barks, amused. “Fuck you too. Fine. Yeah.” He pauses. “That’d be real nice.”