#stevebottoms

OMG NO PROBLEM

Word Count: 535Warnings: established relationship, fluff, sexual themes, endearmentsA/N: Probably not exactly what you were looking for, but I hope it’s still enjoyable!

“You’re sure the porch light is on, Steve?” asks Bucky, pulling aside the curtain and peekingout the kitchen window.

“Yes, Buck. It’s not even dark yet, babe, relax,” says Steve, putting the last of their early dinner dishes into the dish washer. He closes the machine and stretches his arms over his head, glancing toward Bucky and chuckling. “You’re not even ready yet.”

“Aw shit. Come get meif–”

“You know that’s fightin’ dirty, Buck,” says Steve, re-situating himself at the other end of the training mat.

“I never promised you a clean fight, doll,” teases Bucky, teeth dragging over his bottom lip. “You think an alien or somethin’s about to fight fair?”

“I’ll be damned if they fight like you do, Barnes,” says Steve, lunging for Bucky. Bucky counters him perfectly, metal arm diverting his attempted grapple. Bucky manages to slip past him, Bucky’s hand landing a solid smack against his ass. He stumbles, whipping around to glare at Bucky’s stupid, smug face.

Steve doesn’t take the time to take up an offensive stance, Bucky recognizing any tell despite his attempts not to broadcast his next move. He tackles Bucky to the ground, straddling Bucky’s hips and pinning Bucky’s wrists with his hands. Before Bucky can flip them around, he grinds against Bucky’s hardening cock, stilling Bucky in his tracks as he leans over Bucky and whispers, “But I know how to play dirty, too.”

(x)

(x)

awwww yessss, Sebastian out of town for some sort of tech conference and he’s at Starbucks after that day’s events are over. His iced coffee sweats on the table as he bites into his cheese danish, waiting for Chris to answer his Skype call. He’s in the middle of a second huge bite when Chris finally answers, collapsing into his swivel chair with a hasty, “Hey, baby, sorry, we were out back.”

“We?” chokes Sebastian, covering his mouth with his fist as he swallows around way too much pastry.

“You know,” laughs Chris, lifting up his laptop and angling the camera down toward Cap, who glances up at him, then the laptop and then scurries away. “She gets camera shy,” he says, screen a blur as he places the computer back on his desk. “She’ll come back if you whistle for her.”

Sebastian adjusts his headphones and holds the microphone next to his mouth, whistling softly, jingle of Cap’s harness loud as she scrambles back toward Chris. Chris ducks out of frame and hefts their dog into his lap, Cap wriggling and licking at Chris’ face.

“There he is, there’s Bash, huh? She was sad she didn’t get to go out for coffee with you this morning.”

“You’ll have to treat her to ice cream tonight, then,” says Sebastian, taking a sip of his coffee. “Miss you guys.”

“Why am I letting you do this again?”

“Because I asked nicely,” says Steve, tilting his head and then dipping his paintbrush back into the red on his palette.

“Right, because shoving me onto the floor without a word was so nice,” says Bucky, scoffing. He looks back over his shoulder at Steve and Steve glares at him.

“You’ll see when I’m done, you jerk, stop tryna peek,” says Steve, shifting between Bucky’s legs and setting aside his tools. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move!” He lightly smacks Bucky’s thigh when Bucky tries to roll onto his side. “It’s not dry yet.”

Bucky groans and settles on his belly again, eyes falling closed as Steve’s footsteps grow distant. Steve’s feet brush against his leg hairs when Steve returns and then there’s the telltale shutter click of Steve’s mobile camera. He peels one eye open and Steve reaches down for him, grinning.

“The lighting is better by the window,” says Steve, hefting Bucky up from the floor and then guiding Bucky to the other side of their living room. “Right here; perfect.”

“You sure?” asks Bucky, waiting for Steve’s nod and then striking a pose, gaze following the length of his outstretched metal arm, right arm flexed, hips cocked.

Steve sucks on his bottom lip and snaps a picture, taking a few more with each change of Bucky’s pose.

Groaning, Bucky stretches his arms over his head and then drops his hands on his hips, turning around to face Steve. “Did you get a good one?” he asks, approaching Steve and holding his hand out for Steve’s phone.

“This one’s my favorite,” says Steve, touching Bucky’s wrist when Bucky swipes to the third photo. He leaves Bucky to look at the rest of the pictures and squats to gather his brushes and palette.

“Nice work, Stevie,” says Bucky, handing back Steve’s phone and kissing Steve when Steve stands. “I’m gonna go wash my ass now.”

Steve chuckles and goes into the kitchen, dumping his things into the sink and letting the water run. He wakes his phone and is greeted by his favorite snap set as his home screen, Bucky’s wrists draped loosely over one another at the crown of Bucky’s head, body twisted in perfect contrapposto, lighting showcasing the shield and wings painted crisply on Bucky’s shapely ass.

[alternatively, he tries to paint on Bucky’s butt, but it doesn’t work out so well because of the fuzz ԅ(≖‿≖ԅ)]