#eganven

bucky hadn't left the bed.

he couldn't find a reason to. the rest of the men were outside, gathering wood. training, doing god knows what else to prepare for a plan that would never play out. after some brits had made their escape attempt, the amount of german pricks on duty almost doubled. that, and morale had pretty much gone down after they had said the captured escapees were executed. no one even wanted to make an attempt anymore.

they could talk about escape all they wanted to– it would never happen. they would try, fail, get shot, and get buried somewhere on enemy territory. hell, odds were good that if they waited it out the same thing would happen. so why bother?

he had been staring at the wooden slats of the bunk above him for about an hour, now. this felt familiar, at least. as he lay here, he could pretend he was back in base between missions, talking to curt about whatever was going on in their muddled brains.

“it was a close one today. don't want anymore missions like that for a while.”

“that's just how it is, bucky. they’ll only get tougher, y’know. but i think we got it.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. i’ll be tellin’ my grandkids about this one day, y’know. don't seem like it now, but i promise it’ll be a distant memory soon.”

always so optimistic. that was one of the last late-night conversations he had ever had with curt before he went down. he never even got to say goodbye to him. he’ll never forget the pure dread he felt when he asked buck about him, and he didn't have an answer.

sure, bucky could have believed he was alive with every fiber of his being, but that didn't change the fact that curt was dead, crashed somewhere over unknown territory, most likely to never be found.

so much pain, so much death. and for what, he would wonder. what was he really fighting for anymore?

“hey,”

a soft, low voice, like honey. all too familiar.

he looked up, faced with gale, who was just about the only friend he had left at this point. even then, he felt as if buck was slipping from his grasp at times. tensions were high, and he had yelled at him more than he would like to admit.

just yesterday, they got into it outside. john was at fault, he absolutely deserved the punch to the face gale gave him, but neither of them had spoken to one another afterwards. john was never good witth apologies.

“hey,” he said back, the bruise on his cheek left by the blonde throbbing dully as he made eye contact with him for the first time since their scuffle.

“you just gonna lay here all day?” gale asked, his tone not angry or accusatory– just soft and genuinely curious, laced with just a tinge of worry.

“that's the plan,” he replied, shrugging. “nothin’ else to do. unless you wanna punch me again.”

gale stiffened a bit, his lips twitching as if he were trying to find the right thing to say, before he just sighed heavily.

“i’m worried about you.”

bucky shut his eyes, a sigh of his own escaping his chest.

“i know.”

it fell quiet between them. john had closed his eyes so that he couldn't see gale’s sad baby blue’s boring into him, urging him to roll over and show him his most vulnerable parts like a dog begging for attention. for pity.

he knew gale was worried. he knew it before their fight, and he knew it now. gale wasn't an idiot. far from it, actually. he was intelligent and observant, which was why he was such a damn good pilot. he saw john’s pain before john felt it. he saw it in how john would lash out at anyone that looked at him wrong, and how he would toss and turn in his sleep at night.

“you haven't eaten in a few days.”

“i know,” bucky said again. he couldn't bear to imagine gale’s expression. “i’m tired of the same shit. if i see another potato i’ll puke.”

“bucky.” gale hissed, voice urgent. “i’m being serious.”

“so am i.”

he hadn't eaten in about three days. ever since his last serving of the same bland bullshit, he decided he would rather starve than touch it again. so what, if he lost a little weight? that seemed to be the least of his problems right now.

he didn't care anymore. he just didn't care if he withered away inside this stalag surrounded by his men. that seemed to be the most honorable thing to do at this point- because at least then he'd be around people that knew him, and celebrated him. he'd rather die here and now, miserable, than drag it out and die alone in enemy territory with no one around.

“okay, bucky.” gale mumbled, clearly on edge already and not in the mood to argue. “just…i’ll be outside with everyone else. you should eat some dinner tonight.”

the blonde stalked off, expression and gaze steely and distant as bucky rolled back onto his side, facing the wall and sighing tiredly.

night rolled around and he didn't drag himself out of bed for dinner. he couldn't. the urge to eat, to get up and walk and be active wasn't there. his will to survive had vanished.

gale wasn't the only one worried about him. he heard everyone muttering to one another behind his back as they ate the slop that was served to them half-heartedly.

‘he doesn't look good at all.’

‘i know. when’s the last time he left his bunk?’

‘hush and eat. he can probably hear you.’

bucky didn't care what they were saying. whatever it was, it was probably true. maybe word around the stalag was that major john egan was a spineless, worthless, gutless piece of shit that gave up on everyone around him when they needed him most. harsh, yes, but not necessarily wrong. john was acutely aware of how him laying in this bed, rotting for days on end was selfish to his men. he knew that they were looking to him for guidance, and all he was giving them was a depressing display of self pity.

his mind drifted back to curt. he would always tell bucky that he was one of the strongest and most resilient people he had ever met, and how he would give anything to be as half as stubborn as him.

bucky always shot back that stubborn didn't necessarily mean good, but curt refused to see him in a bad light under any circumstances.

“i got you a bowl.”

gale’s voice. he glanced over his shoulder, gazing at the metal dish that gale was holding in his direction. same meal they'd been served for the last few months. the rumbling in his stomach wasn't even a bother to him anymore.

“thanks buck,” he hummed, turning to face the wall once more. “but i’m not hungry.”

silence fell over the room, tense at bucky’s blatant refusal of the food gale offered. he heard a short sigh from his friend, as well as a scuffing of his shoe against the floor as he turned on his heel and walked away.

he felt his stomach sink with guilt, but he really wasn't hungry. what was the point of eating, prolonging his survival when he would most likely die in the very bunk he was laying in? the thought made his appetite disappear.

he pulled the thin, scratchy blankets they were given over himself, clutching it in his hands tightly as if it were the only thing keeping him tethered to this reality.

honestly, it might have been.

𓆩✧𓆪

days and days passed him by. he wasn't able to shake the dread that had begun eating at him days ago. in fact, it seemed to have consumed him whole by this point. he only left the bed when he was instructed to by those goddamn guards, or when he had to use the bathroom. he didn't get up for food, water, to exercise, to speak to friends, nothing. he was not interested but a shell of the outgoing, confident man he used to be.

gale had kept trying to get him to leave his bunk, or to at least put some food in his system. he would bring a plate of food for him every night, and bucky would refuse it all the same. he would tell him that the others were asking for him, but bucky just brushed it off. if they were really worried, they knew where to find him.

only a few other men besides gale came to check on him during the day, hambone being one of them. he started talking about how different things were without him around. it was quiet, and no one really liked it all that much. they missed his snarky comments about the german guards and how he would shit talk them all day. that got a little smile lut of him, he had to admit that. what got him feeling serious again was when hambone started talking about how gale was taking his absence.

“he’s been quiet. way quieter than normal.” he said, voice dropping low. “only says one or two words to everyone before…he just shuts down. goes into autopilot. it's not really like him.”

and he was right. after he had said that he kept think about gale, how he was probably out there with god knows how much on his mind, and for bucky to only be adding to that…

what was he doing?

was he really causing buck that much distress? the thought made his stomach sink with guilt. gale already had so much on his mind, and for bucky to act like a petulant child and add onto all of that stress and anxiety and pain he’s been bearing for the entirety of the men trapped here was so unbelievably shitty.

what kind of friend– what kind of man did something like this to his other half– his rock, his one source of sanity in this camp, in this war?

he curled in on himself further, self loathing and dread curling their ugly black tendrils around him, engulfing him in a pitch black abyss.

he felt so, so sick all of a sudden.

𓆩✧𓆪

“word is there's gonna be another march in a few days,” hambone dutifully informed him, leaning against the creaky wooden wall and staring out the window, into the yard.

bucky was actually sitting up in his bunk today, idly fidgeting with the little radio gale had crafted a few days earlier in his hands. he hadn't actually spoken to buck, finding himself unable to think of anything of value to utter to him.

“again?”

“mhm,” he mumbled, fiddling with the dirty sleeve of his sheepskin. “apparently allies are real close. gale caught word of that last night on that radio. not sure when the germans caught wind. might happen tonight.”

bucky grimaced, setting the tiny radio on the cluttered table, sighing and squeezing his eyes shut at the prospect of walking for days on end just to get to another shitty camp, and rot there for god knows how long. he hasn't eaten in a good week, and he knows his odds of surviving the march on an empty stomach are little to none.

“thanks for tellin’ me,” buck said softly, standing from his bunk and making his way towards the door, keeping his eyes glued to the floor as he stepped outside for the first time in weeks. immediately, he felt eyes on him from all angles.

‘major egan?’

‘he’s okay!’

‘christ, i thought he died…’

he smiled humorlessly, making his way over to the water pump and grabbing one of the metal jugs, placing it under the tap and filling it up with slightly murky water and sighing to himself. he hadn't seen gale yet. a small part of him was hoping that buck would be the first person waiting for him, but he also wasn't in a good headspace to talk to him right now. he didn't know what to say to him, after knowing all the torment he had put him through with his little episode.

he turned the tap off, exhaling deeply and picking up the jug– flushing when he struggled a bit due to the weakness that came with staying in bed and not eating in about a week. he lifted it on the second attempt, huffing and hauling the jug back to his bunk.

out of the corner of his eye, he saw gale, encouraging some men to push a little harder to break the ground using that damned contraption- whatever it was called. he tensed at the sight of him, speeding up his steps until he was safe back in his bunk.

he set the jug down heavily, not even thirsty anymore. that night march could kill him, for all he cared. maybe then gale’s problem’s would be solved.

he laid in his bunk miserably, jug discarded as he thought of gale. he deserved the world, he deserved to be happy, to live a life without having to worry about him being a sad sack of shit, wallowing in his self pity. he did his best to try and keep his spirits up, but he couldn't help it. he didn't have anything to look forward to anymore. life just seemed like a whirlwind of misery and he didn't know how much more he could take. so many friends lost, so many people dead.

maybe when he died, gale would finally move on, lose that stress that came with knowing him. he could only hope.

𓆩✧𓆪

john had lost track of time long ago. he only knew day and night, and occasionally he was told what month it was.

he knew it was late, evidenced by the snores of all the men around him, and how the room was pitch black. the moonlight didn't reach his bunk, leaving him alone in the darkness to stare up at the wooden slats of the bunk above him.

he heard shuffling from somewhere in the room, then the creaking of floorboards as someone moved towards his bed.

“bucky?”

gale’s voice rang in his ears, making him go completely still as if he were a scared cat. maybe he was dreaming, and the gale beside him was nothing more than a figment of his imagination, spurred on by hunger. but when gale didn't leave, he turned to look at the blonde with tired eyes.

“yeah?”

“can’t sleep,” he said softly, and the bags under his eyes seemed to prove it. “mind if i bunk with you tonight?”

bucky wanted to say so many things. ‘of course you can.’ ‘no, i don't want you to get too attached to me if i’m bound to die soon.’ ‘i love you.’ but all that came from him was a little “uh huh,” as he scoot over to make room for the blonde.

he felt his mattress dip, and a familiar warmth crowding at his side. he almost jumped up at the almost desperateness of it all, half expecting gale to just lay by him and turn the other way. the blonde wrapped his arms around his waist, a surprising amount of muscle on them from the training they had been doing in preparation for an escape, and buried his face into the nape of his neck.

it was dangerous to be doing this here, with everyone in the room. anyone could wake up and they'd probably kill them on the spot before the nazis could. no one would accept it– two respected majors, cuddled up together like shy newlyweds in the middle of a shitty stalag, when they should be leading their men, training them, helping out in some way. but, as gale tightened his arms around john, holding onto him as if he'd disappear if he let go, he found that he could care less about what everyone would think of them.

“buck,” he started, voice soft, as soft as it's been in a long while. “what–”

“i’m scared, john,” he whispered, trembling ever so slightly as he pressed closer, like he was trying to become one with the other man. “i’m trying so hard to keep up appearances, to lead and be strong, but i’m scared.” he admitted, fingers digging into john’s side.

john was shocked into silence for a minute. gale was always so well put together. he never cracked under pressure, he just didn't. up in the air, when his engines were out and his crew was panicking, he would land that b-17 like it was nothing. ‘no engine cleven’, they called him, and he just smiled in that shy little way of his, heading to the barracks to sleep off the shock and do it all over again.

he'd seen gale shaken up a few times. when they landed in africa, he was quiet. quieter than usual, anyway. he was staring off into the distance, eyebrows drawn together slightly as he worried that damned toothpick in his mouth until it snapped in two.

but for gale to admit that he was scared was…unheard of. he wasn't the type to show or admit his emotions too openly, none of them were. but being here and eating the same bland shit, not knowing if you're ever gonna get to go home, and watching the last of your friends die during nighttime marches to a new camp did something to you. it broke whatever spirit you thought you had left.

“gale, hey-” he whispered, turning on his side and gently cupping the blonde’s face, watching as tears welled up in his eyes and spilled down his flushed cheeks. “hey, look at me. none of that,”

he used his thumb to wipe away his tears, tilting his chin up so that the blonde’s glassy eyes met his. he hated seeing gale cry. he hated knowing that all this time, he's been in pain, the weight of all of these men in camp on his shoulders, counting on him, and all john has been doing is making it worse.

“i’m sorry,” gale sniffs, hiccuping softly, breath picking up as john pulls him close, allowing the blonde to hide in his chest and inhale his scent. “fuck, i’m sorry. i just don't know how much longer i– if i can do this anymore.”

those words put fear into john’s heart. if gale, the brains, the brawn, the heart and soul of the very operation to get them out of here was losing hope– what did that mean for them? were they truly doomed to die in enemy hands, holding onto the hope that allies would somehow manage to sneak close enough to the shitty camps they were held hostage in and launch an attack on the germans?

he knew most of their thinking was extremely wishful, but it was something. a little glimmer of hope in a dark, gray times. for buck, gale was that glimmer of hope– that thing he held onto when all else seemed to fail him. even when he felt he’d die here, at least it would be with buck.

he couldn't let gale give up like this. not for his sake– hell, not for everyone’s sake. if gale gave up, he gave up. and if he gave up, everyone else would give up. a hell of a burden to carry on top of everything.

“gale,” he said softly, taking both of his slender hands into his large ones, caressing the backs of his knuckles with his calloused thumb. “gale, you've gotta keep going. without you, this whole thing would fall apart.” he said, nuzzling closer to him.

“i can't save everyone, bucky.” he hiccuped, trembling in little fits and starts, shattering john’s heart as he watched. “i can't even save the person that matters most to me. if i can't do that then–”

“you don't need to save me.” john said harshly, much more harshly than he intended to. he saw gale wince, and he immediately regretted being so harsh. “i mean– you don’t– i’m just like this. nothing you can do about it, buck. it’s not your job to fix me, okay?”

“i want to. i want you to be okay, bucky. i want–”

he sniffled, nuzzling his hot, tear-stained cheeks into bucky’s large hands. “i want you to be okay. i want you to be there with me, no matter what. i just– we've lost so many men, john. so many. but i still have you. i can save you, i can help you. i just….i need to make you feel better than this. i need you to know how much you mean to me.”

bucky was stunned into silence. he spent all this time thinking gale loathed him for his behavior, wishing he was dead and gone so that he had one less thing to worry about– but gale just spilled his guts to him about how john was the most precious thing in his life right now. not marge– him. him. it made his heart swell with something ugly.

“i’ll always be with you, buck.” john said softly, stroking his blonde locks, once soft but now slightly gritty with dirt and grime from their time in the stalag. even with limited supplies to take care of his hygiene, gale managed to outshine every single one of them in terms of beauty. “what’d i say? if i’m gonna bet on anything, i’m gonna bet on us. y’hear me?”

a shaky little exhale left gale’s mouth, pressing his face into john’s chest like a boy seeking comfort from his mom after a scary dream. john didn't say anything else, just held gale close as he sniffled and sobbed into his chest until he cried himself to sleep, soft snores leaving his pretty pink lips in soft little puffs.

he felt a surge of overprotectiveness wash over him as he watched the blonde sleep, curled into his body and clutching one of john’s hands close to his chest. he didn't need to feel sorry for himself anymore. he needed to be there for gale, so that he stopped carrying these burdens on his shoulders. they were a team, always have been. always will be. nothing in this godforsaken place could change that.

𓆩✧𓆪

john got up the next morning, careful not to disturb gale, who was still sound asleep next to him. he was on his side, almost completely curled up on himself with his thumb pressed against his lips, biting at it idly.

john smiled softly, eyes filled with a fondness for the blonde as he shuffled into his shoes, heading out into the daylight to grab some rations for the both of them.

last night was extremely sobering for him. he had spent so much time wallowing in his self hatred that he hadn't realized that his neglectful actions towards himself had been affecting gale in a negative way. when his friend came to him, crying and sobbing, worried for his wellbeing, insisting that he was the only thing that was worth fighting for anymore, he knew he had to get it together.

he went to the service counter and asked for two servings of food, saying that his friend was still asleep and that he would wake him up when he got back. who would lie for extra slop anyways?

he was given two plates, and he hurried back to his bunk, where a few of the other men began to stir awake, including gale.

“mornin, boys,” he said, setting down his two plates on the lightly cluttered table. “food’s gettin’ served up. go grab some.”

they all let out a noncommittal groan as he sat down at his bunk, digging into his mean of bland potatoes. it didn't taste any better than the last time he ate it, but he’ll be damned if he wasn't hungry.

gale sat up beside him, blinking the sleep from his eyes, which were slightly puffy from crying. his baby blue’s landed on john and widened as he saw him scarfing down the bland mush.

john smiled at him. “mornin’,”

“you're eating.” he said, voice quivering slightly.

he shrugged slightly, stirring the mush around absentmindedly. “got hungry. craved potatoes. you’ll never guess what the canteen was servin’.”

gale was on him in a matter of seconds, hugging him tightly and pressing his face into his shoulder. he was trembling, a shaky exhale leaving him as john set his plate down, returning the hug and smiling against his shoulder.

“thank you.” he whispered, voice so heart-wrenchingly vulnerable.

“don't count on it.”

𓆩✧𓆪

gale bunked with him for the next few nights, out of pure need for comfort and reassurance. he was obviously happy that bucky was eating again, but he was still stressed with all of the ongoings in the camp.

bucky had stepped in and gave a hand in training, instructing the men in what to do and how to do it, but there were just so many of them. on top of that, those german bastards were always waving their guns around, yelling at them whenever they felt like it. john had almost gotten into it with a few of them, but gale har talked him down.

what would he do without him?

“you need to be more careful when you talk to the guards.” gale said, idly smoothing down the fabric of john’s thin sleep shirt, which made john’s chest fill with warmth.

“to hell with those guards.” he muttered angrily, looking into gale’s eyes with a steely determination. “i just got my spirit back. i ain’t gonna let these nazi bastards destroy it again.”

“they'll shoot you, bucky.” gale said softly, looking up at him with a hard gaze. “zero hesitation. they've done it to other men before, and they’ll do it to you.”

“and then they’ll have a hell of a riot on their hands.” he laughs softly, which made gale sigh and press his forehead to his chest.

“why can't you just be good?”

the words caught john off guard, making his cheeks flush and his heartbeat kick up a notch. he felt his heartbeat pick up whenever gale was close to him like this, but it was a pace he had gotten used to, honestly. but hearing gale tell him to be good in a soft voice– as if he were speaking to a dog made his heartbeat kick up in another way entirely.

“uhm,” he started, face flushed a soft pink, hands finding gale’s waist and fidgeting with the hem of the blonde’s shirt. “i can– i can be good, i jus’...”

he was stumbling over his words painfully obviously. he was hoping that gale couldn't see the flush on his face in the darkness of the room, but knowing his luck he probably could.

“what's wrong?” gale asked softly, eyes lidded as his hands halted on john’s broad chest, thumb idly brushing across the fabric of his shirt in soothing little circles. “your heart is beating really hard.”

“nothin’.” he said, way too quickly for it to be true. “just. hot. i ‘unno.”

silence fell, save for the sounds of breathing from the men around them, and their own soft breathing. john really took in gale in this moment, how soft and vulnerable he looked.

his sleep shirt was loose on him, thanks to him losing weight in the camp over the months they’ve been here. his eyes were soft with sleep, lips pink and plump and parted with each little breath he took. god, he was gorgeous. he wanted nothing more than to take him on the bed right now, make him cry out his name so that everyone in the room knew who he belonged to.

he’d had these thoughts of gale since they met in basic training, but they had only gotten worse the longer they stayed in camp. back on base, he was able to keep his mind off of gale, or at least quell his desire by picking up some desperate broad in a bar and sleeping with her. but now, he looked at gale and could hardly keep his mind out of the gutter. he hated it.

“hot, huh?” gale chuckled softly, hands running up john’s chest and resting on his shoulders. “you're a bad liar when it comes to me, y’know that?”

john flushed darker, hands tightening on gale’s waist and pulling him closer, careful to keep their lower halves apart so that the blonde didn’t feel his erection through his shorts. “i’m not lying.”

“mhm?” the blonde chuckles, leaning closer to him, invading his space so that their noses touched, breath mingling together as they stared at one another tenderly, something more carnal and desirous underneath. “why're you hard then?”

bucky choked on a gasp, his face completely red to the point where he was sure gale could see it, even in the dark. their lower halves weren't touching, and yet, gale had known. read him like a book.

“how’d you–?”

“you have a thing you do,” he says, thumb rubbing at his collarbone gently. “you stumble over your words. start touchin’ things with your hands. fidgeting. sometimes it's more noticeable. its a lot less noticeable when you hit on girls at a bar, but i picked up on it.”

john huffed, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth and averting his eyes. he wasn't expecting gale to call him out so straightforwardly. it made him embarrassed. he also didn't expect gale to trail a hand down to the hem of his shorts, dipping his cool fingers inside and making john gasp sharply.

“want me to take care of it?”

“gale,” john hissed, eyes wide as the blonde’s nimble fingers trailed lower and lower, scratching at the wiry hair just above his hard cock. “our men are all around us. they might hear us.”

“then you'll have to be quiet, won’t you?”

a strangled noise left john’s throat as gale wrapped his thin fingers around his hot, hard length, giving a tentative squeeze. a shuddery breath left deep from bucky’s chest, his hands squeezing gale’s waist so hard he was bound to leave bruises.

“that good?” gale whispered, shuffling his boxers down and letting john’s cock free completely, swiping his thumb across the head and gathering the precum there so the friction of his hand was less harsh. bucky didn't have it in him to answer coherently, so he just nodded and bucked his hips upwards into gale’s touch.

it was intoxicating, the way his fingers occasionally caught under the sensitive head of his cock and made his cock jerk and leak even more, all over gale’s pretty hand.

“see? look at you.” the blonde cooed, eyes lidded and practically glowing as he gave a twist of his wrist on the upstroke, relishing in the little groans and gasps bucky let out. “you can be good for me, why can't you be good out there? i know you're a good boy, bucky. such a good dog.”

“jesus christ,” bucky swore, stomach tensing up and cock leaking into gale’s palm thickly, precum making the glide of his palm slicker. “i’m gunna cum- oh, god, buck–”

“shh,”

the blonde scolded him lightly, free hand moving to cover his mouth firmly as he jerked him off faster, the wet, slick noises coming from between them downright obscene. he felt like a girl getting laid in her bedroom, her parents right next door as her boyfriend fingered her so good she couldn't help but whine and whimper.

he didn't have time to warn gale as he shot off, thick ropes of his spend painting buck’s chest and stomach a pretty pearlescent white. when he pulled his shirt up, he didn't know.

he came down from his high, and found gale’s lips on his. he kissed back, gentle and hungry at the same time, like he wanted to devour gale whole. he pulled him close, choking out a gasp into the kiss as he felt gale’s erection press into his hip.

“buck,” he panted, letting the blonde thrust against him minutely, the little pleased noises he let out going straight to john’s spent cock, bringing it back to life. “lemme– lemme make you feel good.”

gale exhaled sharply, rolling his hips against him more desperately, now. “please.”

john flipped them over so fast that it gave them both whiplash for a moment. it was short lived, though as he was faced with the sight of gale’s hard cock straining at his boxers. john’s large hands spread the blonde’s thighs apart, tugging his boxers down his hips and letting his pretty pink cock spring free from its confines.

john was on him in an instant, licking at the clear bead of precum that gathered at the pretty pink head. gale gasped softly, his breath shaky and deep as john laved his dick in attention, running his hot tongue along the vein that adorned the underside, sucking at the tip, doing anything but taking it in his mouth yet– to enamored by the sweet little noises gale was making.

“john, please.” buck whimpered, voice soft and needy as he thrust upwards, cockhead sliding against bucky’s wet lips. “please,”

he begged so prettily. who was he to resist?

he finally took gale into his mouth in one go, nose nestled into a small thatch of blonde pubic hair just above his dick. gale bit back a moan, hands flying into john’s pretty curls, gripping them so hard that he was sure he ripped a few strands out. the sting made bucky moan around gale’s length, bobbing his head slowly.

he loved every little noise that left gale– the little gasps and quiet keens as he drooled around his cock, eyelashes fluttering as the tip of his cock nudged at the back of his throat. he wishes that he could hear gale at full volume, whining and begging for more– but they couldn't. not here.

“such a good mouth,” gale moaned, voice breathy and deep and so smooth to his ears, melting his brain as he pulled off his cock completely, licking at his dripping slit and collecting his precum with his tongue. “fuck, wish i could keep your mouth on me all day. keep you quiet. fuck–”

hearing gale cleven, straight edge, no gambling, hates sports gale cleven talking dirty to him like this sent shockwaves directly to his cock. he took him all the way back into his mouth, groaning deep in his throat as he ground against the rough sheets of the mattress, brows furrowed in concentration and pleasure as he took hold of gale’s slender hips. he felt so filthy, so needy and desperate for anything gale would give him, like a stray dog begging for food.

he wanted anything gale would give him. affection, hatred, love, loathing– he was hungry for all of it, for him. his cock was amazing on his tongue, hot and heavy and velvety, leaking in copious amounts down his throat as he swallowed every last drop of him. he could feel gale spasm in his throat, close to orgasm, and he found himself feeling greedier by the second.

“jesus christ,” buck gasped, hips lifting from the mattress, hand tightening in john’s curls, pulling him down onto his length frantically as his stomach began to spasm and tense up. “i’m– i’m gonna– john–”

his throat was flooded with gale’s spend, and he worked his throat around his sensitive cock dutifully as he swallowed it all. it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted, it made him hot, it made his brain melt, it made him needy for more–

he felt his cock spill against the sheets, a small whimper caught in his throat as he rode out his orgasm.

when he came to, he was aware of gale whimpering from overstimulation as he absentmindedly suckled at his cock.

“john, please,” he whined, trying to pull free. “enough.”

bucky pulled off, cheek resting on his thigh stickily. they were both panting, faces flushed and eyes glossy with aroused tears. they locked eyes, and john couldn't help the surge of emotion that overcame him as he shot up, capturing gale’s lips in a soft kiss. at this moment, everything felt like it would be okay.

“we should clean up,” gale mumbled against his lips, panting softly. “made a mess.”

“yeah,” john agreed, kissing him again, quicker this time. “think we can score new sheets?”

“we can jus’ move to my bunk for now. toss these sheets aside for morning laundry.” gale hummed, yawning softly and rubbing at his eyes like a sleepy little kid. how he could be so goddamn cute after doing something so filthy was beyond him.

“alright,” john hummed, watching as gale tucked himself into his boxers. “lemme wipe ya down first.”

john untucked a corner of the bedsheets, using them to wipe at gale’s cum stained torso gently, gale squirmed under the attention slightly, blushing at the way john was looking at him, full of love and reverence, like he hung the sun and the stars himself.

once he'd finished, he let gale stand and move back to his bunk, allowing john to rid his bed of the stained sheets and toss them aside for laundry. he'd find an excuse later.

he made his way to gale’s bunk, reversing the roles and cuddling up to gale, nuzzling into his neck and sighing deeply. gale smiled softly, hand carding through his hair gently.

“next time, we’ll try to make less of a mess,” he mumbled, voice deep with sleep as he pulled john closer.

“next time, huh? you fantasizing about it already?”

buck rolled his eyes, and bucky didn't miss the faint flush on his cheeks.

“i’m just saying. it’ll be nicer. maybe it’ll be in a proper bed, without all these people around. just the two of us, in our own bed,” he mumbled, eyes drifting shut. “just us, bucky.”

“buck–”

he didn't get to ask what he meant. he had already fallen asleep, snoring softly into the darkness of the room. buck went silent, pressing his ear to buck’s chest and listening to his steady heartbeat as he mulled over his words. his heart felt like it was going to jump out of his chest.

maybe they would get out of here. if it meant he and buck would have a promising life together, he would be damned if he died in one of these godforsaken camps.

he would make it. for them.