#bottom bucky

You wish you knew how wrong you were.

Sure, at first no big reaction came from him when you started teasing him. Giving him some playful flirting, some touches, poking his sides, fake moaning when he was in a call, the classics.

Then what happened for you to realize you may have crossed a line, stepping into an unknown world you shouldn't probably have discovered?

Easy, the moment you playfully put peanut butter on the corner of your mouth and teasingly winked at Bucky, asking him if he was going to clean it for you. And he did, by taking the peanut butter on his thumb, then fucking sucking clean that said thumb while holding eye contact with you. That should have been enough for you to know this stopped being a game between you two.

In a matter of days, not even weeks, Bucky came back to you with teasings when you stopped giving him the attention you used to give.

"Where's my morning kiss?"

"No pretty words for today?"

"Don't wanna grab my hand anymore?"

"Cat got your tongue?"

Oh how the table has turned. It was you who was feeling flustered now, not him, even though you never saw him blush or shy away with your teasings.

He was the one looking for you, not the other way around. As the weeks passed, the touches became more... personal.

You were cooking dinner for yourself in the kitchen, no one else was around, or that's what you thought. You didn't even hear Bucky step closer to you from behind, until two firm hands grabbed your chest under your shirt.

"Ah!" You jumped, startled and blushing profoundly.

A playful chuckle was heard from behind you, before Bucky rested his chin on your shoulder. "Ticklish?"

"Wh- Bucky, the fuck!?" His hands wouldn't leave your chest, it was the opposite, he wouldn't stop massaging your pecs and pressing on them. You could feel your cheeks grow warmer and redder while embarrassment flooded you. By pure instinct you bit your lip to silence any embarrassing sound that might come out. Why though?

Bucky didn't stop, and by accident, one of his fingers brushed your nipple.

"Nghhuhnn...!"

Silence.

Your eyes opened wide once you realized what the fuck came out of your mouth.

Bucky was also surprised, completely taken aback, until a dirty smirk grew on his lips. "My, oh my, I didn't expect that from you, you little tease." His fingers brushed your nipples again, and you tensed while holding back a moan. Bucky was enjoying it, while you were going through conflicting feelings in your mind.

His fingers poked gently your sensitive nipples, and you had to put all of your strenght on your body and on holding back your voice. It felt strangely good, thing that you wouldn't ever admit.

After a long two minutes, Bucky finally released your chest and removed his hands from under your shirt.

You turned around and saw Bucky leaving that smirk still on him.

"Wh- wait where are you going?" you asked, confused.

"I have to prepare for my upcoming mission," he said, waving a hand at you and leaving you alone and confused in the kitchen.

Since then, the amount of teasings you were receiving from Bucky increased significantly.

A spanking there, a hot whisper here, and lots of winks.

You noticed how Bucky only acted that way with you, with the other members of the team, he was his usual grumpy introverted self. So you had to step up your game, there was no way you'd let him win. So you came back at him, matching his game. You squeezed his ass without him expecting it, you cat called him even though you were standing on the other side of the room, just to watch him blush. You went further than him, and playfully kissed his cheek when he was talking with Sam.

People in the team called what you have a "bromance", and you grew to like it, because it meant everything was just fun and games. Unexpected, but not uninvited.

Bucky didn't seem to mind as well, as he matched you too, kissing your hand, cheek, sometimes even back of the neck. Everyone else would mistake you for a gay couple, funny enough, it did happen before.

And without you realizing it, you were on each other almost all the time, even after you two shared a kiss for the first time.

"Hmmph..." Bucky moaned as he was pushed on the couch of the common room with you standing between his legs and your lips on his. His arms were wrapped around your neck, deepening the hungry kiss.

You started to grind your hips against his crotch to make the situation funnier, and Bucky answered back by grinding against you as well, to make it even funnier.

The kiss came to an end, and you were trying to catch some air in your lungs. "Damn, I bet you'd wanna ride my dick, huh?" you teased.

Bucky chuckled. "And I bet you'd wanna see me ride your dick, huh?" he teased back.

This was just games and laughes for you, a strong bromance that you two shared, nothing more.

The ex-assassin moved his hands under your shirt and playfully pulled on your nipples, stealing a gasp from you.

"A-ah! Bucky! S-stop it!" you said with a trembling voice, your cheeks turning red.

Bucky giggled at the sight and poked your nipples some more, feeling how they slowly got erect between his fingers. He loved seeing you blush, he loved making you moan, it was so cute.

"Gonna tell me you don't like it?" he asked in between giggles.

"I- hmmph! I don't..." You were lying, you knew it, it felt good, strangely and annoyingly good, but you were not going to admit that.

Once again, Bucky released your nipples and moved his hands away from you when he heard Steve calling him. You moved to a side to let him stand up from the couch and he made his way towards the meeting room.

"See you, Y|n" he said before leaving your sights.

The common room was oddly quiet tonight, everyone had a date, which was surprising. You enjoyed the silence with a good hour of lecture, keeping the fireplace on and some ambient music at low volume.

Bucky was really good at sneaking from behind you, as you didn't notice him until he shoved his hands under your shirt from behind, making you yelp and throw your book on the floor.

"Ahn! Fuck!" you cursed out loud as his fingers pinched your nipples and slowly twisted them.

"Thought you'd have the place for yourself?" asked mockingly Bucky as he kept playing with your sensitive nips. He lowered down to kiss your neck and bite gently the shell of your ear, before releasing your chest to go sit on your lap, getting better access to your chest. Bucky removed your shirt and his and went back to tease your nipples. "They're growing so hard already..."

You couldn't keep your mind straight, your back arching, leaning closer to the touch unconciously. "Bucky... fuck... stop it, I don't like it..." you whined.

The corner of Bucky's lips curled into a dirty smirk, he started grinding on your crotch. "What is it? Can't admit that you like it? Afraid to admit it?" Him and his fucking teasings. You decided to fight back and grabbed his crotch on one hand, squeezing his covered cock firmly.

Bucky threw his head back as he moaned, grinding faster and more urgently.

"Like having men touching your dick?" you teased.

"Like having men touching your nips?" he bit back.

"Hey-! I.. ah... I don't..." Lies again.

Bucky knew better. "I bet you're gonna like this too!" You didn't expect him to lick your nipple so lewdly, the tip of his tongue teasing your areola slowly before wrapping his lips around the sensitive nub.

Your cock jumped under your pants, and you could feel how Bucky's cock did the same from the way you moaned.

Curses, you cursed the way it felt so good to have his mouth on your nipple.

"Mo-...!" More. That's what you were about to say, but thankfully, you bit your lip before it escaped your mouth.

Bucky didn't seem to have noticed it, too busy sucking on your nipples the one after the other, and grinding his ass on your dick while you palmed his. His teeth pulled gently on the soft flesh, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. "I love your nipples..." he whispered, yet you heard him clearly. You whimpered as he sucked hader and twisted harder the other nipple with his hand.

None of you noticed when the door opened, Tony and his date have come and concluded their night. However, they stopped dryly when they saw both men kissing eachother on the couch of the common room, too lost on... whatever they were doing.

Tony cleared his throat and Bucky pulled back from you to glare at him.

"Yes?" he asked, leaning closer to you as he supported himself on the couch, both arms of his on each side of your head. His whole body almost completely covered your smaller sized one, which you found completely hot as you had the perfect view of his perfect torso.

Tony signaled you two with his hand. "Can you guys not fuck in public, you two have dorms for something. Go fuck your boyfriend elsewhere."

Boyfriend.

Why did that sound so strange?

Bucky rolled his eyes in annoyance before getting off of you. "Come, I'm not done with you." He winked at you and grabbed your hand before dragging you to his bedroom. "And we're not boyfriends, Tony! This is just... a bromance, or whatever you called it last day."

Yeah, it was just a bromance.

But both of you didn't want to keep it that way for too long.

Is it still bromance if you think about fucking your bro almost every night as he keeps sucking on your nipple?

_______________________

Now he was on his knees, mouth agape with a fistful of hair in your hand. His tongue peeking out to lap at the leaky cock head just inches from his lips. He was utterly needy— desperate for a lack of a better word and he couldn't wait to get what he's been craving since the morning. He's put up with all your teasing and the sideways looks from the others, he deserves something for all the trouble at least.

There was too many times to count where he was at the verge of saying "fuck it," and dragging you to closest room. Constantly shifting from leg to leg and readjusting himself every chance he got to lessen the tightness of his pants. You weren't being fair at all. Sure, he has his moments of riling you up to the point of getting punished but this was too much.

Your hands feeling him up as you stood behind him, squeezing him in all the right places and leaving before he was satisfied. He was red with frustration and embarrassment. Nearly making an indecent noise when you had palmed him through his pants, unavoidably turning heads since he just couldn't keep quiet, but you were out of sight by then. It's not like he could properly explain himself without sounding like a total pervert or liar.

He had a slight pout, his bottom lip jutting out as you kept him from leaning in and taking the tip between his lips. "C'mon," he all but whines out a "Please?" Bucky isn't one to beg so easily but he was reaching his limit, hands balling into fists on his lap to restrain himself. He wanted to grab onto you, to show you just how good he'd be at pleasing you.

He'd always taken what he's given without much complaint, adamant on following instructions as long as you give him what he wants. Even if he all he can do is whine and huff against your grip, he looks up at you from beneath his lashes, trying his hardest to get you to be a little lenient with him. But like a starved man he'd swallow you with such ease the moment he got the chance. Expertly pursing his lips around the head and hallowing his cheeks, his tongue swirling around before pressing on the underside.

He's gotten over his initial hesitance, the once tentative licks now kittenish and teasing. Gagging slightly as you push his head further down that he could feel you hitting the back of his throat. His head would go numb, moaning around the cock stuffing his mouth and letting you do as you pleased.

There's no resistance as you buck your hips into Bucky's willing throat. His hands braced onto your thighs with his fingers digging in ever so slightly, eyes hazy and unfocused as drool drips down his chin. He looked beautiful like this, nearly ruined from having just his mouth used like a toy.

You were right at the edge of an orgasm, filling his throat and pulling him off by the hair to let the last spurts paint his face. His tongue lolled out as if to catch what he could and savoring it with a faint moan. "Thank you, Sir." Wrecked is one way to describe how his voice sounded, words slurred together as he pressed his cheek against your thigh.

Something about the look on his face all dopey and dazed, leaning into your hand as it cards through his mussed locks, is captivating. The slight wet patch on his pants and thighs squeezing together gives you the idea that he wants more. You didn't have to tell him twice to bend over and spread his legs.

"Who would've thought you'd be such an easy lay, Bucky." He wants to say you're wrong, that he's only like this with you but the words get caught in his throat as you spear him on your cock. Making sure he feels every inch as you press yourself against his back. In hindsight it's not the best idea to fuck him in the room right next to the common area but that just means he'll have to stay quiet.

Muffling his moans with a hand over his mouth, you could feel just how tightly he squeezes around you and how he tries to push back. "Here," you guide his metal arm to fist his neglected cock that's aching for any sort of stimulation. "That's it. Just don't make too much noise unless you want someone to catch us."

That's easier said than done. His teeth dig into the flesh of his arm, body driving forward every time you give a harsh thrust that makes his vision whiten around the edges. "F-fuck," he comes with a hushed moan, metal fingers tensing around the base of his twitching cock to starve off his orgasm. Shakily and slowly gliding up and down as you give him some semblance of mercy by slowing down a beat or two.

"'m not done with you yet," the surge of heat that sends straight to his core— switching to a lazy pace and reaching around to coil your arms around him. Pressing the occasional kiss on the back of his tensing shoulder blades, the nape of his neck when his hair falls onto his shoulder as he turns his head. The slow and tender shift is worse than the quick and rough treatment from earlier. It really does it for Bucky. His face growing warm when you start to utter sweet praises into his ears while fucking him slowly.

He doesn't remember when he passed out but perhaps it was somewhere between the third or fifth orgasm you pushed him through. He was overwhelmed and mindlessly babbling for you to keep going until his voice got hoarse, too far gone to care just how loud he was mewling your name by then. When morning came around he felt as if he was hit by a truck— not that you were in a better state. Either way it was amusing to watch him try to hide the limp in his gait and avoid the knowing glances from the others.

“want mommy here?” their pointer finger brushed over buckys back entrance, “on your sopping wet and dirty hole?” they taunted him as their thumb pulled at his cheek to open his entrance to them for a moment before they looked back at his face.

buckys breath caught in his throat, his voice quiet and shaky as he spoke. "ye-yes, mommy. i need you to-to-“ his words trailed off as he gasped harshly at their next action.

they leaned forward to spit on his entrance before moving their finger over the gathered saliva and pushing it between the rings of muscle, “such a sweet boy wants naughty things.”

“so sad you dont have a pussy.” they taunted as their finger slid out to gather more saliva from their outstretched tongue to press inside, “youd squirt and drip all over the couch.” their words were vulgar while they kept their gaze on buckys entrance that was trailing with their spit.

embarrassment and shame swam through his chest at their nonchalance while speaking so degradingly, his breath still coming out in ragged gasps. “i don-dont need a-“

they leaned forward to teasingly lick at the underside of his hardened length, “you wouldnt want mommy to play with your pretty pink pussy?” their finger circled his entrance again before dipping inside and thrusting slow and deep.

their lips formed into a smirk as they watched flush grow even darker on buckys face the more they spoke vulgarly. “wouldnt want mommy to finger fuck you until you squirt all over me?” their finger curled upwards while they slowly dragged the digit out to press into his sensitive spot.

~

“didnt you want this? wanted mommy to do dirty things to you?” the taunts returned as their hand moved from buckys hardening length to his thigh to keep him from bucking too hard onto their fingers. his muscles trembled underneath their moving fingers, the overwhelming pain and pleasure mixing.

“its too-too much.” his words forming around a mess of whines and sobs as their fingers started to quicken at his noises of pleasure.

He's not in human form anymore, with his mouth stretched open, ready for fingers, cock, toys, or anything Bucky gives him, his heavily lidded, nearly shut eyes, and his panting, heaving lungs, Steve is a puddle.

He is the same as the slippery puddle of his over-pouring spit on Bucky's chest underneath him.

He can't stop drooling.

He can't modulate his own volume. Uh! UUH! UNGHH! He's fucking all these sounds out of himself.

He can't control the eager, sloppy thrusting of his hips, pelvis harsh against Bucky's plush ass. The brilliant level of coordinated effort he's able to make is… not cool or suave. He's a fucking kid on prom night, losing any concept of self-control as he gets his cock wet for the very first time.

He can't—

He—

HAA-AH!

Itfeelssogood.

The messiest, neediest part of Steve wants to blabber on, crazed as he goes on and on, thrusts and thrusts and humps, moving erratically and talking with every sloppy, racing thought that dashes through his liquified brain. Yet, he can't. The gag. All that drool. He can't talk. That's too complex. He doesn't need to talk. Bucky can talk enough for both of them. He wouldn't know what to say anyway. He doesn't even know what Bucky wants. He's a cock with legs to Bucky. Walking sex. Whenever and wherever he wants. It doesn't matter.

Steve wants to be used. He'll do anything Bucky pleases, that pleases him. He needs to please Bucky.

Speaking of, underneath him, making his own debauched, lewd noises of pleasure, deep and groaning, much more controlled and less often that Steve's but all the more sweeter for it—Bucky shifts his weight, groaning, adjusting the white-knuckle grip he has on the back of his knee to hike his leg higher, wanting the angle deeper, arching for the electric, overpowering pleasure of direct prostate stimulation. Steve whimpers. He loves how much Bucky knows what he wants, what he needs, and will just take it. It's irresistible.

Take it.

Bucky echoes his crazed half-formed thoughts with actual words. ‘Cause he somehow still has those. “C'm—mmmhh—c’mon,” he trails off to pant for a moment, his face handsomely pinching into even more intense pleasure as Steve wriggles, trying to get deeper with what's left of his fried brain, “I know you c-can do it, Stevie. Oh, oh Steve, yeah—get that fat cock in this tight hole. Work it in me, baby.”

Steve whines.

His cock is so fucking achy inside Bucky, clenched on so tight he's pretty sure he's going shatter into a million pieces. He wasn't built to feel such pleasure. He's going blind, white-hot sparks in his vision becoming a shield shimmering white. A mirage.

Bucky clicks his tongue, “it's hard, I know it's hard,” he teases, mock pitying him, poor, desperate thing, “but I want it.”

He wants it.

Steve knows he wants it.

He was led into bed by the cock. He knows it. He needs to provide. He needs—

He wants to melt further into him. He could soak into the outrageously attractive flush high on Bucky's cheeks like butter on toast.

He's too much.

So handsome.

His stubble-rough, sharp jaw, the curve of his bitten lips, the fuck-me-steel of his eyes, the messy halo of his dark hair curling around him, spread across their pillows, his, his—

Him.

Steve gurgles around spit and need. He needs him. He needs him so bad it's making him fucking useless—it always has. He's weak for Bucky.

And Bucky understands.

Without a fuckin’ fuss, Bucky decides he's had enough of playing with his food, bored of love taps and teasing swipes, Bucky decides it's time to pull out his fucking claws. He goes for blood, executing a neat flip to pull Steve's weight underneath him, conquering his lap and putting the thick muscle of his thighs to good use.

OH!

Steve writhes beneath him, his hips involuntarily kicking up into Bucky's tight hole. The simmering-hot sweat on Steve's back glues him to the sheets just as his dazed eyes glue themselves to Bucky's chest, staring at him lecherously. The mark Steve's submission has left on Bucky, that puddle of drool—

It's rolling wetly, messily, down Bucky's chest, traveling between his furred tits.

Steve's spit.

In the exact moment that Steve's stupidified brain works enough to connect back to his own tits— nipples clamped and agonized—Bucky claps his metal hand down hard against Steve's chest. He's on top. Asserting himself. Blasting Steve: pleasure and pain.

OH, GOD.

Steve would love to claim that he shouts, he yells, he uses his broad chest and makes a big, masculine noise, but, no, he squeals.

It hurts.

Ohfuckme. It huuurts.

Tears bombard Steve's hazy vision, making it all the more useless. He can't see. He doesn't need to see. It doesn't matter one way or another because his unseeing eyes are rolling back so far it hurts. And, more, he can't stop himself, he's curling, soles of his feet cramping, he's arching, his spine flexing, he's reaching, his head thudding back into the dented pillows underneath him. He's so fucked. Bucky's hole clenches his cock, too tight. Bucky's thighs squeeze his waist, too hot. All that strength. All that power.

Bucky has him.

Steve is strained, the lust-engorged veins and strong, underlying muscle in his arched, bared neck complain, stretched too far as he arches. His delicate skin pulls and pulses. He is on fucking edge. But after just a second—

The dam, creaking and bowing, breaks.

It is catastrophic and erotic. The release. Rushing, surging out. Water.

Pleasure.

Steve suddenly, brokenly, relaxes into the onslaught of pleasure and sparking pain. It is all he can do. He lolls like a rag doll. Taking it. Letting Bucky ride him. He's just a toy. He's a dildo, that's all. He doesn't need to speak. He doesn't need to think. He doesn't need to do anything. Bucky will talk enough for the both of them, praising his cock, degrading his body for how useless it becomes the moment his dick gets wet, then praising Steve's brain for being too sweet. Bucky will do it. Bucky will take care of it.

Bucky. Bucky. Bucky.

Steve doesn't even want to cum, despite his balls being so fucking heavy and tight and denied, he just wants Bucky. He is most desperate for submission—submission to Bucky.

The tears start to roll, boiling and bubbling with sobs, as they make their way down his fever-flushed skin—

Use me, Bucky.

Have me, Bucky.

Take me, Bucky.

He all but sees it when Steve decides that oh, he's gonna draw this out, he's gonna make it last as long as he possibly can, milk every last drop of pleasure out of this that Bucky's willing to take.

Steve's pace slows to a torturous rhythm, his gaze locked with Bucky's with intent, watching him hungrily while he sinks inside, one maddening inch at a time, sliding in deep, deep enough to let Bucky feel him, feel the hard, blood-hot, throbbing shape of him opening Bucky right up like it's just what it was made for, thick and heavy and glorious just like the rest of Steve is.

And then pulling back out at his leisure, slow, slow, slow, and slick and all sorts of perfect while Bucky's body clenches around him, tries to hold onto him like it never wants to let him go.

The drag of it is so delicious, it has Steve gasping and wetting his swollen, slack lips with a flicker of his pink tongue, and there's a hunger in his eyes, a need, a fever that makes Bucky wonder if Steve can taste him every time he licks his lips, if he can still feel the weight of Bucky's cock on his tongue even now, while he's up there between Bucky's spread legs, tall and aglow and magnificent like the first sun that ever kissed the earth.

If his mouth is watering, if it wants back on Bucky's skin -- if Steve's starved enough for him that he'll sink his teeth in the meat of Bucky's shoulder the second he gets the chance and lap at the fresh pink bruise with his tongue after, sloppy and needy and filthy like a french kiss, tasting his own mark on Bucky’s smooth skin.

Steve's hands grip his hips, his blue eyes fixed on Bucky's face, roving over every inch of him they can reach, the wet tip of his cock kissing the pucker of Bucky's entrance like he's asking for permission before he slips back in easy and sweet and relentless--

And that's when Steve suggests, in a low rumble, that maybe. Maybe he should keep this up until Bucky's forgotten every word that's not Steve's name. Maybe he should just keep at it for hours, fuck Bucky slow, so slow, sink into the butter-soft give of Bucky's flesh over and over, and over, giving him just enough to keep Bucky aroused out of his mind, his skin on fire, his lungs melting with each hot breath, but never quite enough to push Bucky over the edge. Not until Bucky's so desperate to have it that he's begging for it.

"Whaddya think, sweetheart?" Steve husks, his voice warm, rich; dark and irresistible, like every decadent pleasure life has to offer. "D'you want that? Think you can take that?"

The hot skin of his hips presses flush against Bucky's ass when he bottoms out, the searing length of him deep and snug inside Bucky like it belongs there and nowhere else, and Bucky feels molten, feels like the moment before fireworks burst up in the sky, those charged two seconds of complete quiet before fire and colour bloom into the night, the anticipation building up and crawling like a shiver up his spine.

"Steve," he breathes out, gasping with his mouth wide open when Steve's cock brushes up against that spot inside him with exquisite purpose.

"'Cause I can do that, baby, I can give that to you," Steve rumbles on, a bead of sweat pooling invitingly in the hollow of his throat. "Give it to you just the way you like it, fuck you so slow, so fucking deep, Buck, wet you up till you’re dripping with it, make you come till you can't see straight anymore, till I gotchu all sweet and messy and melting right into these sheets."

And Bucky wants it, wants it so bad he's writhing under Steve's hot hands, chanting, "Steve, yes, yes--"

"All you gotta do is say the word, baby. We've got all the time in the world, and I'm only just getting started," Steve says, moving sinuously above him, inside him, everywhere Bucky's senses can reach, the greedy curl of his smirk something Bucky will see in his dreams. "Trust me, sweetheart-- I can do this all day."

Bucky hears it through the well-fucked haze in his brain, the slow molasses of pleasure dripping hotly down his spine, and when his glossy eyes snap up to meet Steve's -- well, he thinks that's when Steve hears it, too.

Bucky's chin starts quivering. His chest shakes with barely restrained giggles, until he knows he can't hold back anymore.

Steve's eyes grow comically wide. His hips halt immediately, the tips of his ears quickly catching fire, they flush so red. "Wait, no, that's not what I--"

But Bucky can't help it, he's bursting with it, erupting into laughter, cackling so deep that his belly his shaking, sending little zings of pleasure to his system when it jostles Steve inside of him.

"You actually said that," he wheezes, tears springing to his eyes even as he squeezes them shut tight, head thrown back against the pillow 'cause he can't fucking breathe, "I can't believe you actually said that, oh my god--"

"Buck, c'mon," Steve groans above him, one shovel-sized hand covering his eyes, looking about three seconds away from combusting from sheer embarrrassment. Bucky’s not letting him forget about this one for a long, long time to come, and they both know it.

“We aren’t talking about this,” Sam yells down the street, Bucky stomping after him. “You made your choice.”

“Are you kidding me? You think I made this choice?” Bucky yells back, loud enough that people are starting to stare. “Sam, could you stop for one second?”

Sam is still walking, his pace even picking up, which just makes Bucky’s eyes roll further into his head. After several missed calls and being outright ignored by Sam after the whole new avengerz fiasco, Bucky had gotten his ass onto a plane. He didn’t even like planes; they’re crowded, loud, and the recycled air smells terrible. But Sam still won’t talk to him, which has led to this scene right now. 

Bucky catches up to him, reaching out to grab his shoulder. Sam turns and glares at him, flicking Bucky's hand off him.

“Sam, please.” Bucky nearly begs, cause this has gotten ridiculous.

“You told me you were trying to do good. Change things from the ground up, right?” Sam barks back, getting right up into his face. “Then you're standing there with a bunch of mercenaries. While Valentina de Fontaine announces to the world that you're the new avengers.” He shoves at Bucky's chest. “Cause Valentina is the one we want to cheer for.”

Bucky takes several deep breaths, trying desperately not to lose his cool. He didn't want to be making such a scene, especially in the middle of downtown. 

“Sam,” Bucky says in as even a tone as possible. “None of us wanted to be the new avengers. Well, except Alexie,” He rubs his face, flustered. As Sam stands there with his hands on his hips. “That doesn't matter. We are working from the inside out, Sam.”

“So when exactly were you going to tell me?” Sam glares at him, and Bucky is doing his best not to reach forward and strangle him. 

“I tried. But you just ignored me.” Bucky grimaces, hoping that somehow, someway, this is sinking in. “Can we please talk about this somewhere -” He gestures wildly to all the different people around them. “Other than here.”

Sam turns on his heel and clomps away, Bucky following after him. They make several turns that Buck knows are unnecessary before getting to Sam's place. He turns and looks at his friend.

“Do not lie to me,” Sam states, his hand on the door. “Not under my roof.”

“I haven't been lying-” Bucky stops, as Sam gives him a pointed look. Bucky sighs before following him inside. 

He closes and locks the door behind him as Sam goes deeper into the place. Bucky finds a chair by a table, and the space looks exactly as he remembers it, except for a few new photos. Bucky gets up, not paying attention to the fact that Sam is closing curtains and blinds.

It's photos of him, Bucky, one from when he was sworn in as a congressman. Another that is a news clipping of him standing outside a bodega, he was talking about new legislation for bodega cats. A stupid thing, but it had been successful. Another candid, of him holding the shield, a small smile on his face.

Turning, he sighs, “I came cause I want us on the same side again. There was no intention of there even being sides.” Bucky stops speaking. Sam is standing there with a cold beer in hand.

“You know, for an ex-assassin, you're really bad at noticing things.” Sam smirks and takes a long swig of his beer. 

“We have Val in a corner, and if we apply the right pressure, we can get her.” Bucky continues, shrugging off Sam's confusing comment.

Sam moves towards him, beer abandoned on the counter. Bucky doesn't move back, accepting that he was probably going to get smacked or yelled at again. So when one of Sam's hands came up to touch his face, he flinched. 

Realization dawning on him, he leans into it. Into the comfort that he has missed so much the last few months. God, he'd missed Sam so much; the loss of that closeness had nearly undone him.

“You're really dense sometimes, Buck.” Sam hushes before his lips land on Bucky.

Bucky gasps as his hands grab onto Sam's waist, pulling the man against his chest. Sam's groans grabbing a handful of Bucky’s hair and pulling it. Causing the man to keen and melt.

“Thought you're mad at me.” Bucky whines, pulling back just enough to look at him. His chest is rising and falling. 

Sam smirks, one hand already pushing Bucky's jacket off. “Oh. I am pissed.” He bites at Bucky's lips.

Bucky is pushing just as hard back, jackets tumbling to the ground. Shirts peeled off and dropped just as fast. Then Bucky is lifting Sam up off the ground.

“Put me the fuck down,” Sam grunts. Bucky doesn't answer, just latches his mouth onto Sam's collarbone and sucks. 

Sam's legs wrap around his waist as Bucky walks them back to the bedroom. Sam is grinding his hips down onto Bucky as he leans down and licks a strip up the side of his face. Bucky moans and drops him onto the bed. Shaking hands, fumbling with belts, buttons, and zippers. The two were somehow competing with each other to see how fast they could strip. 

Bucky successfully frees Sam from his clothed confines. His dick was already hard and twitching. Swatting Sam's hands away, Bucky is dropping to his knees and spreading Sam's open. His mouth finds the head of his partner's cock and sucking it into his mouth. Sam's head tipped back with a deep moan, hands carding through Bucky's long hair. Not pushing, just feeling the way the man goes down on him.

“You're so stupid,” Sam groans, as Bucky takes him deep into his mouth. “Think I could just take your - oh god - phone calls.”

Sam pauses his rant when Bucky pops off, going down to suck where Sam's cock meets his balls. It has his eyes rolling, cause fuck he shouldn't look that good looking up at him. 

“Like the - fuck you're pretty on your knees - can't just take your calls.” It's getting hard to think when Bucky licks a strip back up. Sam's missed this way too much. “They're monitoring you.”

Bucky pops off and glares at him. “You're such an asshole.”

Sam sits up, leaning down to kiss him hard. “The only ass I want is yours.” 

Bucky rolls his eyes, but doesn't stop Sam from removing his pants. Sam's turn to push Bucky down onto the bed, both of them scrambling up the bed. 

“You still came,” Sam smirks, lips latching onto Bucky’s, as his hand finds his partner's cock and starts to stroke it.

Bucky whimpers, his hips trying to chase the feeling of Sam around him. His own hands flaying to find the lube that's kept in the top drawer. 

Breaking free, he pants as he drags Sam in between his legs. “Of course, I came.” He grabs the back of Sam's head and kisses him deeply. “I fuckin missed you.”

Sam's hands are pushing Bucky's legs up. “I missed your sorry-ass, too.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, which close when Sam's now lube-covered finger slides over the rim of his ass. 

“Sam, don't tease,” Bucky groans, “I need you.”

Sam chuckles and slips one finger inside. Bucky moans as his hips work down onto the man’s fingers.

“Oh, now you need me.” Sam chuckles, nipping and biting down on Bucky's neck as he slowly works the finger in and out.

Bucky huffs, trying to take his cock into his own palm. Sam swats it away with a huff. Stroking it in time with his finger. The super-soldier's head clunking against the headboard, as his hands grasp at the sheets. 

“Had to go and become a congressman,” Sam hissed and added a finger, making Bucky bite into his lip. “You know what it would look like if we got caught?”

Bucky is trying to form words, but it's hard when Sam is playing with him like this. It's been way too long. 

“We- ugh- haven't-” Bucky's eye rolls back as Sam presses against his prostate. “Yet-oh god Sam right there.”

Sam grins at seeing Bucky completely going placid under his touch. He squeezes the man's cock at the base. Letting spit drip from his mouth down onto the man's cock.

“The first Black Captain America, fucking Bucky Barnes, head of the new avengers.” Sam teases, his own cock throbbing as he watches him fall apart. 

Bucky is sick of him talking. He grabs Sam's face and drags him closer. Smashing their lips together, his metal hand finds Sam's cock and strokes it. Making him gasp and his fingers stutter inside Bucky.

“All this bullshit,” Bucky bites along Sam's jaw. “'Cause you don't want to get caught.”

Sam pulls his fingers out, wiping them on the sheets. “Always got to use that damn cold hand on me.” He groans as Bucky squeezes him. 

“So you remember who you're going to be fucking,” Bucky grits back, his other hand grabbing Sam's hip and trying to guide him to where he wants him. 

“Fuck, always so needy,” Sam whines, but doesn't stop him from pulling Bucky's hips up. Lining himself up. “I shouldn’t have missed you so much.

Bucky slides that bit of info away for later as he lifts his hips up. Mouth falling open as Sam starts to slowly slide in. The burn only lasts a moment, as he starts to relax around the intrusion. 

“Missed you too, fucking bird brain,” Bucky whispers, locking his legs around Sam and getting him to bottom out.

Sam hissed at the tight, warm clenching muscle around him. Making his brain go fuzzy, it's been way too long. He isn't sure he is going to last. 

“God, you feel good,” Sam admits as he starts to thrust slowly in and out of Bucky.

Groaning Bucky grabs the man's hips and urges him to go faster.

“Please,” Bucky hates how pathetic he sounds. “Fuck me, Wilson.”

Sam stops holding back, bending Bucky in half. His hips start to fuck into him with a sharp pace. Bucky's hand around his cock, mouth a gape as he relishes in the feeling of being full.

“Fuck -oh god-,” Bucky whines, not bothering to try and keep pace, just riding what Sam gives him.

Sam grunts, “Tell me you're close, Buck.” His rhythm is already getting sloppy as his release builds. 

Bucky pants, lips swollen from sucking on them. “I am right there with you, Cap.” 

That does it, Sam lets out of litany of curses, as he slams into Bucky several more times. Then he's cuming with the man's name on his lips.

“Ah fuck, yes,” Bucky moans as he cums all over his stomach.

Sam finally crumples onto Bucky, the slick pressed between them. Both panting, sweaty, and blissed out.

“I hate you,” Sam laughs, an honest to god full-belly laugh. 

Bucky wraps him in his arms, kissing the tops of his head. “First hate sex. I kind of like it.”

Sam groans, but still chuckles, “Why'd you wait so long?”

Bucky winces as Sam carefully removes himself from Bucky. Sliding them both onto their sides, facing one another.

“I thought you were mad at me,” Bucky sighs, running fingers over Sam's skin. “That you believed I actually sided with Val.”

Sam slumps, leaning in to kiss Bucky softly. Curling closer to the man. “I was initially. But I know you, Buck. Just couldn’t tell you. Not over the phone.”

“I hate you too.” Bucky grunts, holding him tightly. “Don't do this again. Please.”

Sam nods, pushing Bucky's hair behind his ear. “I am sorry, Buck. I won't.”

I will be writing them again..

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