Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Fuck winter. 

Steve glares at his little clouds of breath as they billow out in front of him. 

He should be used to this- a northeasterner through and through- but that biting, frigid air crawls under his skin and chills him down to the bone every year and has him dreaming of somewhere that would keep him warm. 

A chilled breeze flows through the air and he clutches the strap of his duffel bag even tighter,  huddling in on himself, as if that will do anything to brace against the cold. 

Could be worse, though, he guesses. 

At least he’s not trudging through snow right now. 

No, that’ll probably be next week. 

The campus gym he’s been briskly stalking towards is just ahead of him now and the excitement of getting inside a heated building quickly erases his bitter thoughts. He all but bursts through the doors, immediately greeted with a blast of toasty air that has him sighing happily. 

The guy and girl sitting behind the reception desk greet him with a smile and politely ask if he had a good winter break. He smiles back, handing them his student ID to scan and returning the small talk. 

He walks into the main equipment area, pleased to find that there’s only a few other people here. 

That’s why he loves coming here instead of the huge main recreation center. 

This gym is smaller and tucked in a weird spot on campus, hidden from plain view. Steve had only stumbled across it accidentally. Not many people know about it, and some people who do know about it prefer the recreation center because it has more things to do- rock climbing, swimming pools, basketball courts, yoga classes, and more. It’s a great facility, one of the campus’s best selling points, probably. But there’s just so many people, so much noise. 

Steve has to admit that it’s fun to go there every now and then. And at least you can park directly outside of that one and avoid the cold instead of parking in a lot that’s ten minutes away. 

But he can suffer ten minutes if it means some peace and quiet and not having to wait his turn for equipment to free up. Plus, all he really needs are a couple machines, some dumbbells and weight plates, and a barbell. 

He slips into the guys’ locker room to set his stuff aside, not even bothering to ask for a lock. 

His initial scan of the area showed him that there’s only one other guy here right now, and he’s just sitting and scrolling on his phone while he talks to a girl who’s actually working out. 

It’s not rare for Steve to be one of the only guys in this place, but he still feels a little awkward about it. He’d tell more of his friends to come by, but he figures the girls come here to get away from the male attention, so he keeps it to himself. 

He doesn’t mind that he’s surrounded by girls. They’re always nice and supportive, and they genuinely seem to want his advice on how to better their techniques, which is something Steve is flattered to help with. 

And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t end up taking a couple of them to bed. 

No, the issue is that when guys don’t show up, Steve has to stick to his simpler exercises because the girls around him are almost always beginners who can’t spot him if necessary. 

It’s more than a little inconvenient and frustrating. 

More so, because Steve could just as easily go to the more popular gym and probably wouldn’t have to ever worry about that. 

But then he’d also have to worry about the last time someone cleaned off the equipment after they used it. 

And these girls always clean the equipment. 

Plus, there is a handful of guys who show up here regularly. Steve has even managed to get spotters, workout partners, and a couple of almost-friends out of this place. 

It would be super cool, though, if they’d show up more often. 

He sighs and finds a clear area to start doing some stretches and warmups, pulling his headphones on and getting himself in the right headspace. 

He’s just starting his actual workout when he notices in the mirrored wall that everyone- literally everyone, even the guy glued to his phone- has shifted their focus towards the entrance. Steve follows suit, wondering if he needs to be concerned or preparing for something. 

But when he finds the center of everyone’s attention, it’s not a medical emergency or a safety threat.

He turns back to study the reactions again. A couple people are openly staring, but most of them have managed to return to their task, although they can’t quite stop themselves from stealing glances. 

Ah. 

Should’ve recognized those lovestruck expressions to begin with. 

Because there, leaning casually against the reception desk and eliciting blushes from both the guy and the girl sitting behind it by sheer presence, is Bucky Barnes. 

Bucky was the star of the football team and the best tight end on at least the east coast, if not the country, in Steve’s opinion. Early last season, Bucky had taken a dirty hit and ended up with a dislocated shoulder and a serious concussion. He’d recovered from the dislocated shoulder as quickly as one could, and if it still bothers him now, he doesn’t let it show much. 

The concussion, though. 

That had been sad and a bit terrifying, even if Bucky was a complete stranger to Steve at the time. 

Bucky suffered pretty significant memory loss. Thankfully, with time, that improved and it doesn’t hold him back from anything, but even Steve can see the flashes of confusion on his face when someone brings something random up and Bucky just… has no clue. 

So due to obvious health concerns, he had to hang up his jersey, much to the dismay of football fans across the country, including Steve, who were excited to see the superstar from the underdog school make his big come-up. 

If someone were to meet Bucky now with no prior knowledge of him, they would have no idea that he’d been through all that. Bucky is the brightest, most charismatic, flirtatious, energetic, and affable person on campus. Has to be. 

And he must be a bit of a genius.

According to Steve’s very ecstatic friends, Bucky has been their TA for physics and chemistry- while suffering from memory loss- and is working towards some engineering degree. 

Personally, Steve doesn’t really know him. They had a couple of gen-ed classes together, share several of the same friends, and typically end up at the same parties. They’ve also seen each other here at the gym, where Steve has been subjected to that friendly disposition directly. 

“Hey. Rogers, right?” Bucky had paused just long enough for Steve to confirm, then offered a kind smile. “I wanted to tell you that I’ve seen your progress and in case you don’t hear it enough- Good job and you should be proud of yourself. Keep going, man. You’re killing it.” 

Steve had been a little surprised and a lot flattered, because Bucky’s own build is certainly nothing to scoff at and Steve may or may not have integrated a few exercises he’d seen Bucky doing into his own routine. Now, they trade compliments occasionally and even spotted each other once, and Steve can’t deny that Bucky’s freely offered encouragement was largely what pushed him through a couple reps that day. 

But he’s still really only on a last name basis with the guy. He can’t say for sure if Bucky remembers or ever even knew his first name. 

Steve keeps glancing back over at him between reps, watching the way everyone seems to gravitate towards him. He’s not short on friends or interested parties himself, but Steve can’t imagine having everyone hanging off every word he says, eating out of the palm of his hand the way Bucky does. 

He has seen people actually stop and stare as Bucky goes by, big red hearts in their eyes as they gaze after him. At parties, he sees the absolutely dazed look on people’s faces after Bucky’s done kissing them like they’re long-lost lovers. 

One of the most interesting things to Steve is that Bucky is openly and unapologetically bisexual. 

He can’t say for sure why he finds it interesting, but he thinks it has to do with the fact that he grew up living in an area where his gay and bisexual friends couldn’t feel completely safe being themselves, so they were always more reserved in public. 

But he’s on a college campus now where nobody really cares what you do or who you fuck, and Bucky Barnes takes full advantage of that. 

He kisses guys almost as often as he kisses girls, and Steve suspects it only happens less because there’s less opportunity. 

There had been this one party where he saw Bucky on a couch, a drop-dead gorgeous redhead girl grinding on his lap, sucking his neck while he held a sandy-haired guy’s neck possessively and kissed him until the poor guy had all but melted into the cushions.

Steve had felt a little off after managing to pull his eyes away from that scene, an uncomfortable feeling down in his gut that he could never figure out. But Bucky had come bounding into the same room as Steve less than ten minutes later like he hadn’t just been involved in softcore porn, and he was smiling and laughing and making small talk, and the feeling was gone before Steve could dwell on it.

If Steve shared Bucky’s unwavering confidence, he’d sit down with two pretty girls and let them show the whole room a preview of what would happen when they got in Steve’s bed later, too, so he can’t really judge Bucky for that. 

Thinking about it, though, there’s only a few people that anyone can verify have actually slept with Bucky. 

Campus isn’t small, but it’s still not big enough to be protected from gossip. And apparently, when you land Bucky Barnes, you can’t help but let everyone know about it. In full detail. And the line of people trying to get in Bucky’s bed just keeps getting longer and longer. 

But it’s like everyone on campus not only wants to fuck the man, but also desperately wants to date him. 

And watching him now, flirting unabashedly with a staff lady- who looks very much like she’s strongly considering breaking policy and giving in- he can’t deny that he gets it. 

Because when Bucky smiles, one side of his mouth lifts before the other and it’s so distinct, so charming. His eyes crinkle and there’s the slightest hint of dimples on his cheeks to match the one on his chin. Objectively, Steve could see why someone would want to be the reason for that smile. 

Personally, Steve’s not into guys. 

But, there’s no denying that Bucky Barnes is one handsome man. 

Especially if you’re into soft brunette locks that always look perfectly mussed like long, thick fingers have been running through them. Or a tall, muscular athlete’s body, a little burly but surprisingly agile. Or a sharp jawline that’s peppered with permanent three-day stubble. Or a wide, bright smile that looks just as good when it’s teasing as it does when it’s sweet. Or stunning blue-grey eyes that are piercing and surprisingly warm and distracting as fuck. 

Not that Steve has been looking. 

It’s just that he’s a bit of an artist. He likes to draw, likes using people as subjects, and it would be really hard- as an artist- to deny the sketchable appeal of that face. 

Steve figures he’s probably spent too much time being envious and gets his thoughts back on having a solid gym session, only a few more curious glances thrown Bucky’s way. 

He does get a little distracted when he sees Bucky in the mirror absolutely ripping through some bicep curls, no signs of struggle until he finishes and starts rubbing at his left shoulder. 

Must be the one that got hurt. 

He watches for a few beats longer, pushing down the strange urge to walk over and show Bucky some massage techniques to help when it gets sore. But Bucky just rolls his shoulder and shakes his arms out, moving on to the next thing. 

Which is what Steve should be doing. 

Why the fuck am I just sitting here watching him? 

He snaps himself out of it and actually gets himself back on track. 

When he’s done, dripping sweat and feeling light and blissful the way only a productive gym session can evoke, he slowly drags himself up from a bench and back into the locker room. 

He doesn’t always shower here, especially considering how cold it is outside, but he feels especially gross right now and there’s a high chance he’ll sit down when he gets home and not be able to force himself back up. 

After a minute of debating, Steve sighs and starts getting his shower things ready. 

He’s in the shower room still waiting for the water to warm up, naked except for the towel wrapped around his waist, when he hears the door open. 

Glancing back towards the entrance to the showers, he can’t actually see who is in the other room but he figures he already knows. 

A minute later, when Steve has finally deemed the water temperature acceptable, his suspicions are confirmed as Bucky strolls in the showers, whistling some melody that Steve doesn’t recognize but doesn’t hate. 

Out of common courtesy, he gives Bucky a tight nod of acknowledgement when they make eye contact and then immediately looks away. 

Bucky’s towel is still wrapped around his waist but, from the glimpse that Steve caught, it’s hanging precariously low and loose. 

Which isn’t weird or anything, considering it’s about to come off when Bucky steps under the spray of water. 

But for some reason, Steve can’t stop thinking about it. 

He shakes the image out of his head and starts lathering his hair, doing his best to not look uncoordinated or inept or something. 

It’s normal for guys to shower in a locker room together. They’ve been doing it since middle school. It’s nothing new. 

But that doesn’t mean it’s not still a little awkward every time. Especially when it’s just the two of them and all the shower heads are on the same wall, so they’re both always sort of in the other’s peripheral vision. 

And Bucky seems to take up so much room, it’s almost impossible to not look at him. 

Steve doesn’t know why because he’s not exactly a little guy, either. Bucky has a little more mass, but they’re the same height. 

It’s kind of just Bucky’s whole being. 

Steve might not be one of the people whose heart beats out of his chest whenever he sees Bucky, but there’s no doubt that the guy has a commanding presence and is the center of attention the second he walks in the room.

He’s hard to ignore. 

Bucky doesn’t even try for all the focus that’s directed at him. He just gets it because he’s him. 

Whether it’s out of envy, lust, or curiosity, people take notice of Bucky. 

Steve figures he’s caught somewhere between envious and curious. 

Envious because how could he not be? Bucky gets anybody he wants without lifting a finger. He’s charming and handsome and does reps of Steve’s maxes . Everyone loves him and he’s smart as fuck. Steve is pretty sharp himself, but he suspects that Bucky’s the kind of smart that doesn’t require hours of studying in a library fueled by shitty coffee. Plus, Bucky has Steve’s favorite college and NFL players following him on Instagram. That’s just unfair.

Curious because there has to be a catch. Bucky can’t be perfect. But he truly has not shown any detectable flaws on surface level, so that means that they’re down deep underneath that tanned, muscled exterior. And fuck, Steve is dying to figure them out. 

Bucky’s probably a massive asshole behind closed doors. 

But, God, that smile and those eyes. They’re way too genuine and warm for that to be true. 

It’s around this point that Steve realizes he’s been sneaking far too many sideways glances and tries to occupy himself by furiously scrubbing his armpits. 

Did he already wash this arm? 

Was that shampoo or conditioner that he just put in his hair? 

Should he… shouldn’t he be done by now? 

As far as gym showers go, this one has definitely lasted much too long. 

What’s he going to do next, go through his full shaving routine? 

Bucky’s still going, though. So that should mean he’s fine, too, right? 

He did get really sweaty. 

He catches another glimpse of Bucky in the corner of his eye, streams of water and suds running down plains and valleys of thick muscle and suddenly it’s a lot clearer to Steve why so many of history’s favorite sculptors took to the male body. 

Wait, what? 

Bucky reaches up to wash behind his neck, head turning towards Steve, and Steve jerks his head in the opposite direction, not nearly as subtle as he would have liked it to be and probably more noticeable than the staring. 

Shit. 

Was that obvious? 

Did he even see me? 

Am I about to get punched in the face? 

Is he going to storm out of here and tell everyone I’m a creep?

He goes back to washing himself with too much concentration, hoping like hell that he’s not blushing, or if he is, that it can at least be excused by the steam around them. 

But when he sneaks another quick glance Bucky’s way, Bucky is going about his business, humming softly and not even acknowledging Steve’s presence. 

Thank God. 

How the hell would he have explained himself? 

“Sorry, man, I’m not a creep. I promise. It’s just that I don’t know what’s going on with me, but I kinda can’t keep my eyes off you.”

Steve would punch himself in the face real quick if he were Bucky. 

He tries his hardest- way harder than he should have to try- but he still can’t stop himself from peeking back over, strangely captivated by the way Bucky’s muscles shift as he reaches up to run fingers through his hair, eyes closed and face relaxed. 

He pulls his eyes away before there’s any risk of Bucky opening his own, but now there’s a weird feeling deep in his gut. 

Guilt, you idiot. 

But guilt shouldn’t make him want to look again. 

And definitely shouldn’t have him wondering what would happen if Bucky caught him and… didn’t get mad. 

Steve can’t help but think about it. 

Is he Bucky’s type? 

Does Bucky think Steve has a body worth sculpting?

How would that strong body feel beneath his fingertips?

What is it that Bucky does that has everyone wanting a turn? 

What the hell? 

Steve blinks himself out of his unsolicited thoughts, eyes wide and heart pounding a little too hard. 

Panicked, he’s about to make a run for it, get as far away from Bucky as he can possibly manage. 

But then he realizes.

Shit. 

He’s hard. 

And not just a little.

No. 

He has a full erection. 

What. The. Fuck. 

After a brief second of shock, he hastily angles his groin away from Bucky. 

He needs to get the fuck out of here. This is ridiculous. Who decided that it was okay for guys to get boners at the least convenient time? 

How should he do this? 

Does he wait for Bucky to leave first? No, then he’d just have to shuffle back to the lockers and try to hide it there. He needs to get out of here, get dressed, and get gone as quickly as possible. 

It’s another couple seconds before he hastily shuts the water off and yanks his towel around his waist. He tries to turn his frontside as much away from Bucky as possible without looking like an idiot when he goes to hurry out of the showers at the least awkward pace he can manage. 

Bucky, however, decides that now is the best time for him to end his shower as well, so he’s wrapping his towel around his waist at the same time that Steve is making his escape and there’s a very brief window where they end up making accidental eye contact. Steve makes sure to dart his eyes away before Bucky can catch the blush that he knows is on his cheeks or see the way it deepens when their eyes meet, but he can’t help but feel that Bucky must definitely know that something’s up at this point. 

Steve is being shifty as fuck. 

He’d be pretty damn suspicious, too, if he were Bucky. 

Imagine being alone in a shower with one other guy and he keeps giving furtive glances and blushing as he tries to run away. 

Fuck, this is so embarrassing. 

Matters are only made worse when he gets back to his gym bag and realizes that Bucky’s set up closer to the door and Steve will either have to walk by him in order to get out or try to wait him out. 

Given Bucky’s leisurely movements, he’d be waiting a long time. 

And, surely, it would only be more suspect if he tried to move even slower than Bucky. 

The other option is to get his boner to get the hell on somewhere, but judging by the ache in his groin, that might take a minute, too. Normally, he’d have no problem willing it away, but for some reason, every time he tries to think about something other than the situation he’s in, the only thing his mind will conjure up for him is the image of Bucky scrubbing his washcloth over his pecs, suds sliding down further and further until-

Steve gulps and squeezes his eyes shut. Nothing is making any sense. Sure, he’s gotten an erection in less-than-ideal scenarios before, but they never stick around like this and he never thinks such… out-of-character things with one. 

He’s aware that he’s been moving stiffly and breathing a little too unevenly, but he hears Bucky’s steady, shuffling movements behind him, so maybe, if he has any luck whatsoever, Bucky hasn’t even spared him a glance. 

With his back to Bucky, though, Steve can’t tell how much progress he’s made. Is Bucky almost done? Is he just messing around on his phone or something? Does Steve need to be moving faster or slower?

Bucky’s not whistling or humming like he was when he first walked in. Is that a bad thing? Should Steve be reading into that? 

There’s a silence hanging between them that feels dangerously heavy.

He’d give anything to be able to know what Bucky was thinking right now. He needs to know if this whole situation is as glaring and awkward as he thinks it is. Bucky hasn’t given him any weird looks- that he’s noticed, at least. Maybe he is shooting weird looks behind Steve’s back. 

Damn. Now I want to look at him again. 

Before he can do something stupid, like actually turn to see what Bucky’s doing, he hears a locker being shut and thinks he finally might be getting out of this mess when he hears the purposive clearing of a throat. 

“So.” 

He stills. There’s an edge to Bucky’s voice and Steve knows. 

He’s been caught. 

His breaths pick up and his hands have decided to start shaking, so he balls his fists, trying his hardest to get his body to relax so he can at least try to pretend that everything’s normal. 

“Like what you saw?” 

Steve can’t look at him. Can’t look at anything besides the locker in front of him. 

He wishes someone would come shove him in there and throw the combination into the middle of the Hudson. 

He can hear the rustles of Bucky’s movements behind him and when he speaks again, his voice has dropped lower and that tone. 

“If it helps any, Rogers,” the smirk in Bucky’s voice is obvious and he’s seen it be used on enough of Bucky’s fans, so Steve has no idea why he still turns his head to see it. “I like what I see.” 

Oh. 

“Um.” Steve scrambles through his mind but every single word he has ever learned has left him here to die of embarrassment all alone. 

He should’ve been moving faster. He really doesn’t want to have this conversation while he’s shirtless.  

“Hey, relax, sweetheart,” Bucky soothes. 

Sweetheart? 

Why did that give Steve a fluttering feeling in his gut? 

“It’s okay,” Bucky continues, and Steve just looks at him with big eyes. “No need to be shy, Rogers. I would’ve said something to you a long time ago if I thought you might be interested.”

“What? Oh, n-no, I- I don’t- I’m not-” Steve stammers, watching helplessly as he stays glued in place while Bucky moves closer. “Not into guys. I’m not, um, gay.” 

Bucky pauses, searching his eyes before looking pointedly down at Steve’s reddened cheeks. 

“Alright,” Bucky nods after a moment, and now his smile is something softer. 

Steve nods back, having no clue what he even thinks he’s agreeing with. 

“Hey, I’m really sorry, man,” Bucky retreats. “Must’ve read this wrong. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything, but I’m truly sorry if I did.” 

Bucky looks back up at him with an apologetic smile, small and genuine, and turns back around to pick up his bag. 

Steve doesn’t know why he does it. 

But he opens his mouth, voice no more than a whisper. 

“Wait.”

Oh my God. Just let him fucking leave! What are you doing?! 

Bucky turns and looks at him again, eyes searching Steve’s face curiously and intensely. 

Steve doesn’t say anything further, completely confused and betrayed by his mouth, not trusting it enough to open it back up. Bucky’s been watching him far too closely, and it’s making it quite a challenge to shift his erection into a more comfortable position. 

The longer Bucky looks at him like that, head cocked to the side a bit and eyes traveling Steve’s body, the harder it is for Steve to ignore the way his dick is screaming for attention. 

To Steve’s absolute horror, Bucky’s focus drifts right down to where Steve is purposefully holding his hoodie over his erection. Bucky’s left eyebrow twitches upwards- amusement, Steve thinks, like anything about this is funny- and he glances back up at Steve without lifting his head and Jesus Christ, that look. 

Steve recalls a nature documentary he turned on for background noise one night and thinks maybe now he can relate to the gazelle that got hunted by the lion.

The smile Bucky gives him is teasing, and his eyes dart back down to where Steve is still trying to hide the tent in his jeans before he starts prowling towards him. 

“Wait for what? Did you need some help with that?” 

Steve loses his words again, but he must be looking at Bucky with something intriguing laced in his features, because he starts inching closer again and continues talking.

“You don’t have to be gay, you know. You can still get help with that if you’re just… curious. I don’t mind.” 

“Uh,” Steve grabs at himself when his dick twitches, tensing when his touch only worsens the situation. 

Bucky’s much too close now, looking Steve over carefully, grey eyes taken over by the black of his pupils. He doesn’t say anything, just smiles at Steve again, small and kind. One of his hands goes up to stroke at the stubble on his chin while he looks Steve over. 

Steve swallows hard under that calculating stare because, for some reason, having Bucky this close and looking at him like that is making it extra difficult to will the blood out of his dick. 

Christ, this is embarrassing. 

He’s not really sure why the universe and his body are out to get him today or why his eyes keep landing on Bucky’s lips. He truly doesn’t understand why he keeps getting the urge to let his eyes roam further down. Or why he hasn’t been able to fight it once, always giving in and glancing down at those carved muscles and the cut of Bucky’s hips.

Fuck. 

It would be great if his heartbeat would calm the fuck down. 

And it would really be fan-fucking-tastic if he could manage to fucking speak. 

Bucky’s still watching him, one side of his mouth curling up into a predatory smirk. 

“What do you say, Rogers?” Bucky drawls, scanning Steve’s entire body. “You want some help with that or you want me to walk away?” 

Ah, there it is! 

Another direct opening. Another opportunity to just say no and they can both walk away from this, no problem. 

“I- I’ve never-” 

What? No, stick to the script, Steve. Where are you going with this? 

“Um, I wouldn’t… know… what to do.” 

What the fuck? What was that?

“Well, that’s easy,” Bucky has trouble in his tone and a no-good smile on his lips. “All you have to do is listen to me. I’ll show you.”

Steve remembers another show he watched called I Was Prey. He should have paid more attention to how those people survived their situations because he’s beginning to get the terrifying notion that he’s not making it out of his.  

“I- We probably shouldn’t,” he manages. 

Probably? Probably?!

“But you want to?” Bucky’s voice dips lower. “Sure looks like you want to.” 

Steve doesn’t answer that immediately, though he knows he should and knows how he should answer. 

“But… I’m not gay,” he whispers, though it comes out sounding more like a question. 

“That’s okay. Labels aren’t important,” Bucky says softly. “You can tell me to fuck off right now and I promise I will. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Steve says instantly, sure and firm, knowing Bucky means it even if he doesn’t really know Bucky . 

“Good.” Bucky smiles, and it’s sincere and fond. 

Steve knows he’s still blushing deep red, knows his chest is rising and falling far too quickly. And he knows Bucky is taking that all in, eyes sharp as they drift over Steve’s body. 

He wonders, again, what Bucky’s thinking right now. 

Steve might think this is all a prank, all some cruel scheme to turn him into the campus joke, but even with the hunger in Bucky’s eyes, there’s still a whole lot of kindness and warmth. 

“You want to.” It’s not a question and Bucky’s face softens as he says it. 

Steve looks down at himself, at his bulge, hoping that Bucky at least can’t see the way he’s twitching with a highly impatient want. He considers the fact that he’s still standing here, letting Bucky get closer. He’s had so many chances to say no, to let Bucky leave. 

There’s a sinking feeling in his gut, heavied by panic, but it finally hits him. 

This isn’t just an inopportune circumstance.

He really wants this. 

It takes a beat, but finally Steve nods, eyes widened a little with realization and fear. 

“Hey, it’s alright.” Bucky’s voice is gentle in a way Steve has never heard. He reaches out, telegraphing every move like he doesn’t want to spook Steve. “You can want that, Steve. Nothing wrong with it.” 

Steve has to look away. There’s confusion, fear, and something else that he wouldn’t quite call shame bubbling in gut. But there’s also this weird, pleasant warmth spreading in his chest after Bucky called him ‘Steve’ instead of ‘Rogers’. 

It’s the warm feeling that has him unable to meet Bucky’s eyes. 

“Need you to answer me.” Bucky puts a hand on Steve’s shoulder, thumb rubbing on his collarbone. “We don’t go any faster or do anything you don’t want to do. You tell me if it’s too much. I’ll ask one more time and that’s it. Yes or no, alright? Do you want me to help you out?” 

Steve’s breaths deepen again, little puffs of air through his nostrils that provide the only noise in the room aside from the distant drip of a shower faucet. The hand on his shoulder is big and clearly powerful. But it’s careful and comforting on Steve’s skin, and Steve finds that he honestly does want to know what it feels like to have Bucky’s hands on him. 

The thought startles him. He’s never thought of that or anything like it before, not about Bucky, not about any other man. His dick seems to like it, though, straining against his zipper and, no doubt, leaving a wet spot in his briefs. 

He doesn’t know what he’s doing, can’t identify what he’s feeling. But it would be dumb and pointless to try to keep pretending like he’s not interested, like Bucky can’t see his interest clear as day.  

Steve closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them again, he tries to be brave by meeting Bucky’s patient stare, but he can hardly manage much more than a breathy whisper. 

“Yes.” 

Bucky makes a quiet sound of approval, giving Steve’s shoulder a firm squeeze before he lets his eyes drop back down to Steve’s bulge. 

“Want you to be comfortable.” Bucky murmurs, moving behind Steve. “Not going to ask you to do anything, okay? Not today, at least.” 

Not today? 

He’s assuming that we’ll do this again? 

Steve doesn’t speak on his confusion, or tell Bucky that this is nothing more than a one-time, temporary lapse of judgment. 

Not yet, at least. Seems rude right now. 

Bucky’s hands are on his waist now, and he gently pulls him back until Steve can feel the warmth of Bucky’s body from head to toe. 

“This okay?” Bucky’s voice is low and rich and Steve’s breath hitches when he hears it rumbling right behind his ear. 

Bucky’s giving him another chance. He’s literally handing him another easy out. 

All Steve has to do is say no. 

“Wait.” 

Finally, some common sense. 

The hands on his waist are instantly gone. Steve… doesn’t like that. 

“It’s just,” Steve pauses to clear his throat. “What if someone comes in?” 

Huh?

“How many other guys have you seen in here at this time?” Bucky waits, but they both know the answer, so Steve just shakes his head. “That’s right. It’s just you and me, okay? But if you’re uncomfortable, we can stop right now. Do you want me to keep going?”

“Um,” he starts, finding himself leaning back into Bucky’s space. “Okay. Yes.” 

Alright. So. I’m really doing this. Cool.

He holds his breath when Bucky pulls their bodies together, Steve plastered to Bucky’s front and hyper aware of every point of contact between them, but particularly the areas where skin meets skin. 

His lips part and he breathes out shakily. He can feel Bucky’s own unsteady breaths behind him and doesn’t even want to think about the rush of satisfaction he feels when he realizes he’s affecting Bucky, too. 

Bucky’s hands drift towards Steve’s crotch, slow but confident, fingers pausing to toy with the button of his jeans before moving any further. 

“Still okay?” 

Steve tries his hardest to not shiver when the words ghost over the skin at the nape of his neck, but he’s not surprised when his body ignores him for the hundredth time today. Too nervous about what his voice will sound like if he opens his mouth, Steve licks his lips and nods. 

He wants to close his eyes as Bucky starts undoing the button, wants to pretend that none of this is getting to him the way it is, but his eyes stay glued to the nimble fingers that get him unbuttoned and unzipped in no time. 

He wonders if he should be doing something with his hands. 

I should definitely be doing something with my hands. 

They’re just hanging by his sides, balled into fists as he watches Bucky’s hands slide up his abs. He gasps, then shivers again when the hands settle on his pecs, brushing against his nipples. 

Bucky hums like he’s found something interesting, but does nothing more than slide his hands back down Steve’s body, tracing through the contours of his muscles. When he reaches Steve’s jeans again, he starts working them down Steve’s legs. 

Steve’s response is automatic. His heart is pounding in his chest and his breaths are coming more harshly. Bucky soothes him with a hand rubbing in small circles on his stomach, and it’s embarrassing, but mostly because it actually helps. 

“Shh,” Bucky hushes him. “Breathe, Rogers. Gotta relax, alright? Can you do that?” 

Steve nods shakily, but it takes him a minute to get himself calmed down. When he does, Bucky rewards him with teasing fingers dancing along the waistband of his briefs. 

“You sure about this?” Bucky’s breath is hot against his skin. 

This is a terrible idea. 

Boundaries have been crossed for sure, but they can still save this. They haven’t gone too far yet. They can stop, walk away, go on like this never happened. 

It would be so much easier. 

“Yeah,” Steve breathes after glancing back over towards the door. “I’m sure.” 

Bucky hooks his chin over Steve’s shoulder and tugs Steve even closer. This time, Steve feels every inch of Bucky pressed up against him. 

As soon as he feels Bucky’s thick erection poking against his ass, Steve makes a very unattractive choking noise, both of them watching as his dick twitches in his briefs. Bucky makes a deep rumbling sound, and Steve is going to pretend that neither of them heard the soft gasp he lets out in response. 

It’s futile, though, because a second later, Bucky’s hand is groping him through the fabric, but Steve still lets out a downright desperate moan that definitely cannot be ignored and- he’s positive- will mortify him until his dying day. 

Bucky seems to enjoy it, though, squeezing a little tighter before shoving Steve’s boxers down impatiently. 

“You tell me if you want me to stop. Understood?” Bucky’s hand hovers over his dick. “Any time, any reason. You tell me, okay?” 

“Okay.” Steve’s voice is nothing more than a rasp. 

If Steve thought he was embarrassed before, none of that compares at all to the complete humiliation he feels after Bucky wraps a hand around his dick and Steve lets out a goddamn whine. 

Things don’t get any better, either. Bucky groans by Steve’s ear and, for reasons he can’t begin to understand, it makes his hips stutter, fucking into Bucky’s fist and drawing a long, low moan out of himself. 

It’s official. 

He’s never stepping onto campus again. 

How could he after this?

Bucky is stroking him now, and Steve is trembling like he’s never had his dick touched before. Which, well, not by a guy. So, maybe that counts for something, but it still seems pretty damn pathetic.  

Steve wants to steal a glance at Bucky, but if he turns his head, his lips are going to brush against Bucky’s face and he really doesn’t want that, so he stays staring down, watching the way his skin drags with each pump of Bucky’s hand and trying to keep his noises down to the least demeaning volume possible. He tries to keep his eyes from darting towards the door, but he can’t help the nervousness inside him. 

And he doesn’t want to admit it, but he thinks the riskiness is really working for him.

Steve gasps, whole body jolting when Bucky thumbs through the pearly liquid budding on his tip. 

“You know what I think, Rogers?” Bucky is whispering right in his ear, low and filthy and smug. 

He can’t get his mouth to close in order to form words, so he just shakes his head. 

“I think you might be a little into guys.”

Steve would argue, but he’s currently leaking a shocking amount of precome onto another man’s fist, so… 

Fair assessment, I guess. 

“Know what else I think?” 

Oh, great. He’s going to keep going. 

“I think you’ve been wanting me to do this for a while.”  

Steve does manage to shake his head and make a noise of protest at that, on the off chance that he does have some dignity left hiding in a corner somewhere.

But then Bucky chuckles, deep and taunting, and Steve whines again, so he doesn’t really think it’s the most convincing argument. 

“No?” Bucky asks, the hand on Steve’s hip moving to cup Steve’s balls instead. “You think I haven’t seen you watching me?” 

Steve chokes on the moan he was about to let out. 

“How could I not?” Bucky’s voice is warmer now. “Pretty thing like you, watching me when you think I don’t see. Gotta tell you, Rogers, a lot of people look at me. But none of them look at me the way you do. Makes a guy feel real special, you know?” 

Nobody told Steve that there would be a conversation involved in this. 

Had he known that words had been expected of him, he would’ve sprinted out of here immediately. 

…Probably. 

Especially considering the fact that Bucky’s trying to pull confessions out of him that Steve swears aren’t accurate, but somehow can’t figure out how to deny. 

“Good?” Bucky asks gently after Steve remains silent, hands pausing as he gives Steve another opportunity to back out.

Fuck it. I’m already in this deep.

Steve grunts quietly and his hands, which have been dangling uselessly all this time, come up to wrap around Bucky’s wrists, urging him to keep going. 

“Good,” he manages to choke out, figuring Bucky will want to actually hear it before he starts back up. “Please, don’t stop.”

“Okay,” Bucky chuckles softly, and when Steve tips his head towards the sound, Bucky meets him halfway. He’s working Steve over slowly again, left hand coming back to rest on Steve’s stomach and pulling him back against Bucky’s firm body. “You’re doing so good, Rogers.” 

Steve hums his thanks even though he’s not really sure what he’s being complimented on when Bucky’s doing all the work and Steve is barely holding it together. But Bucky keeps murmuring affirmations and the effects they have on Steve are so immediate that it’s like they go in Steve’s ear, stream south, and then present themselves as the precome that’s keeping Bucky’s hand slick and glistening. 

There’s nothing he can do but watch with fascination as Bucky quickly figures out what amount of pressure gets Steve groaning the most, which speed has his knees going weak, how to twist his wrist just right to leave Steve gasping. 

And Steve is very blindsided by how turned on he feels solely by the sight of Bucky’s hand wrapped around him. 

It’s big- bigger than Steve’s even- and Steve has never had so much surface area crawling with pleasure. Bucky’s grip is strong but comfortable, and every now and then when Bucky shifts his hand, Steve catches a glimpse of his veins. It’ll be nearly impossible to not draw them later. And he can’t see it, but he can feel the slight roughness on Bucky’s palm and he knows he could never convincingly pretend he doesn’t love it. 

It scares him. 

He’s a bit ashamed of himself. Not simply because he’s scared, but because he can’t help but feel a little… wrong. 

He shouldn’t be liking the way Bucky’s touching him. 

The thoughts running through his head are so unrecognizable, so foreign and yet, they come so naturally. 

Even as he moans and whines with pleasure, his mind can’t stop reeling. 

What am I doing? 

What does it mean? 

Why does it feel so fucking good?

But even in his panicked mind, he can’t deny that being surrounded by Bucky like this- wrapped in his arms, in his hand- is slowly calming him down, quieting his brain. 

As Steve looks down at the hand resting on his stomach, he wonders if Bucky knows how good it feels to be held like this or if he realizes how soothing the absentminded little circles his thumb is tracing are to Steve’s nerves. 

That’s when another realization hits him. 

He feels wrong because it feels so right. 

It’s something new to him, something he’s never considered, never explored. 

And yet… 

Here with Bucky, holding him close and whispering warm and honey-sweet by his ear, it feels like something familiar. 

Something safe and comfortable. 

If he could just get the corners of his mind to shut the fuck up, this would be so… 

Perfect. 

The thought has Steve whispering a quiet, “Oh.” 

It also has his whole body ringing with alarm, but he figures as long as he’s here, he should just let himself feel good. 

The frenzied panicking surely can wait until he’s far away from Bucky and can avoid him forever. 

Shit. Does that make me a bad person? Am I obligated to be friends with him after this? Am I just using this guy?

Steve blinks. 

Is he just using me? 

… Do I care?

Then Bucky tightens his grip and starts stroking even faster, and Steve nearly buckles but is held up by a strong arm. 

“Got you, sweetheart,” Bucky’s deep voice murmurs in his ear. “You just focus on feeling good, okay?” 

No. Steve decides. I don’t care. He can use me. Just this once. 

Surprising the hell out of himself, Steve actually listens to what Bucky said. After a second more of watching, he lets his head tip back, not realizing that it’s something he’d been subconsciously fighting. 

But when his head is resting on Bucky’s shoulder, he wishes he would have just done this in the first place. 

Immediately, he lets out a deep sigh and with it goes a staggering amount of his worries because Bucky makes a soft noise like a mixture of a rumble and a hum, turns his head a little and nuzzles closer, and hugs Steve to him even tighter. 

It’s not that surprising how sweet Steve finds it, but only because Steve doesn’t think he could be any more surprised by his body or mind today. 

He is proven incredibly wrong again, though, when he finds himself reaching up with his own left hand to settle on Bucky’s hand on his stomach. Bucky pauses, only for the briefest millisecond, but long enough for Steve to immensely regret it and start to pull away. 

Bucky must decide it’s his turn to throw Steve a surprise, though, because he reaches for his hand before it gets more than an inch away and threads his fingers up through Steve’s, trapping Steve’s hand back on top of his own. He wraps their arms across Steve’s torso and only gradually loosens his grip when he’s sure Steve isn’t going to pull away again and presses his fingers into Steve’s right hip instead. 

 Steve moans softly, proud of himself for not whining, and finds himself turning his head more towards Bucky. It takes him a minute to figure out what that mellow feeling in his chest is, but then he recognizes it as gratitude and squeezes Bucky’s hand in appreciation, hoping like hell he’s not crossing some sort of boundary or giving the wrong impression. 

But Bucky just squeezes at Steve’s hip in return and keeps going in that steady rhythm that has Steve squirming more and more as he gets closer to spilling all over Bucky’s fingers. 

His hips are pushing very shallowly into Bucky’s hold, he’s somehow managing to whine and pant at the same time, and he can feel himself pulsing in Bucky’s grip. Distantly, he’s aware that his right hand has snaked up to grasp at Bucky’s left elbow and he’s now fully hugging Bucky’s arm to his stomach, but that’s something else he can worry about later. 

Right now, all he wants to focus on is being held in Bucky’s arms, listening to that encouragement as it washes over his skin and raises goosebumps in its wake. The only thing he feels right now is intense pleasure as Bucky’s hand tirelessly pumps him, the press of Bucky’s dick against his ass when he arches his back, and the satisfaction that trickles through him when it has Bucky groaning in his ear. 

“I-” Steve tries to issue a warning, but it dies in his throat and is replaced by an embarrassingly high-pitched moan. 

“Go ‘head,” Bucky breathes against his neck. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” 

“Bucky.” There’s definitely an overwhelming feeling in his chest, but it’s the good kind- like he’s been taken so high that he knows the fall is going to wipe him out and he can’t wait for the waves to crash over him.

“Let me see,” Bucky whispers, low and scorching. “I got you, sweetheart. You’re alright.” 

Steve can barely nod before he’s throwing his head back and dropping his mouth in a moan that starts silently before it crescendos as he finally feels himself tip over the cusp of his orgasm. 

It takes tremendous effort, but he manages to look down in time to see his come spill onto the floor in front of them and pool on Bucky’s fingers and give them an easy, wet slide as he keeps stroking Steve through every second. 

He’s panting, loud breaths that are sometimes tailed by short whines, but he manages to hear Bucky’s awed, quiet “Oh, fuck” and has to bite his lip to suppress the whimper that’s trying to crawl its way up his throat. 

After what feels like a comically long time compared to any of his prior orgasms- something else he’s going to throw into his ‘do not dwell on’ folder- he finishes and sags into Bucky’s hold. 

Bucky supports his weight easily and rests his lips on Steve’s shoulder, not enough to count as a kiss, but a constant, pleasant warmth pressed into his skin. They stay like that, Steve trying to match his breathing to the rise and fall of Bucky’s chest on his back and Bucky bringing his messy hand up to settle on Steve’s free hip. 

Steve honestly doesn’t mind that he can feel the wet warmth of his release being brushed against his skin. 

His own arms are still hugging Bucky’s left arm against his torso and Steve figures he should probably let go before it gets weird, but then he has to swallow a manic laugh because what about this hasn’t been weird? 

Plus… Bucky’s hugs feel nice. 

And now that he can focus on something that’s not how inexplicably horny he feels, he can focus on the smell of Bucky’s shampoo. 

It’s really good. 

And Steve’s always been a hugger. 

So. 

Sue him. 

Inevitably, however, his unease comes seeping back into his veins and he pulls away, creating distance between them again. 

“Um.” He’s looking anywhere but at Bucky. 

“Are you alright?” 

He can hear the concern in Bucky’s voice and he feels unbearably guilty. 

“Y-yeah. I’m cool. Thanks for asking.” 

‘Thanks for asking?’

You are such a fucking jackass. 

“Uh. No problem.” 

It’s the first time he’s heard Bucky sound so uncertain, and he’s not proud that that’s what gets him to look up. 

Fuck. 

He should’ve kept staring at the ground. 

Bucky’s standing there watching him with those fucking eyes and all Steve can think is damn. 

He’s beautiful. 

His lips are parted and flushed like he’s been biting them, his pupils are wide, and his cheeks have a pretty little hint of pink on them. 

Steve’s gaze wanders down to find that Bucky’s breathing deeper than he expected, and the way his muscles tighten on each exhale has Steve feeling very flustered all of a sudden. 

And then there’s the very obvious strain of an impressive erection against the fabric of Bucky’s briefs. 

Stop fucking staring at it, Rogers! What the fuck?! 

Blinking, Steve averts his eyes and settles them on a poster that he honest-to-God had no idea was directly in front of them until just now. 

“Um,” Steve tries again, because surely he should be saying something. 

“Hey, relax,” Bucky chuckles and Steve finds himself drawn to the sound of it again. “Just want to make sure you’re alright. I’ll leave you alone.” 

“No!” 

It’s out before Steve can even think, before he even realizes his mind had enough time to register Bucky’s sentence. 

They’re staring at each other now, and it’s Bucky’s turn to wear his confusion on his face. 

“You’re not alright?” 

“No,” Steve says, like a normal person this time. “I’m alright. I just-“ 

He stops because he’s truthfully not really sure what he meant. 

But then... 

Oh. 

Shit. 

“Just what?” Bucky prompts, far too patient to deserve having to deal with Steve. 

“I, uh, I could… I can help you out, too. Also. Um. If you want.” 

Steve is going to go home, glare at his reflection in the mirror, and demand to know why the hell he didn’t just let Bucky leave this goddamn room. 

Why are words still leaving his mouth? Why are they forming sentences that make no fucking sense? 

And why is he not taking them back after he says them? 

“Oh, yeah?” Bucky’s grin is surprisingly genuine. 

“Yeah. If you want,” Steve shrugs, even though he’s pretty sure the quiver in his voice is audible from miles away. 

“Well, I definitely want,” Bucky huffs. “Do you?” 

“I offered.” 

I am begging you, mouth. 

Shut the fuck up. 

Bucky smirks. “You did. Doesn’t necessarily mean you want to. Didn’t sound so sure, either.”

Steve’s eyes drift down to where Bucky’s palming himself through his briefs and his mouth gets a little dry. 

“I want to.” 

Oh, really? Tell that to your shaking hands. 

Bucky looks him over carefully, and Steve realizes that he’s just standing here with his briefs and jeans still pulled down and his softening dick still on display, and hastily pulls them back up. 

He is never coming back to campus. 

“Do you want to or do you feel like you should?” Bucky lays the question on him after a few seconds. 

It’s a good question. 

And Steve thinks he has the answer immediately because he definitely would feel a little rude if he just gets his and then walks away. 

But-

He looks Bucky over again. He looks at Bucky’s kind eyes, patient even when his dick is clearly crying for attention. He thinks about Bucky’s gentle guidance, the way he kept checking in and making sure Steve was still on board with everything, how he backed off instantly each time he thought Steve was too uncomfortable. 

He thinks about his own conflicting thoughts, the way he couldn’t say no- The way he didn’t want to say no. 

Maybe he’s having an experimental moment? 

People have those. 

And it can be good, he understands, but ultimately not what is right for yourself. 

Bucky can make him feel good and it doesn’t have to mean anything. 

Steve can make Bucky feel good and it doesn’t change a thing about himself. 

Somehow, it feels like more than that, though. This feels more weighted, more serious. Like if he doesn’t walk away right this second, he’s going to alter reality in some way. 

But honestly, it really doesn’t matter to him much right now. That’s something he can go into crisis about some other time. 

He just doesn’t want Bucky to leave this room yet. 

Not until he gets a chance to fully try him on. 

Steve has to swallow past a lump in his throat, because he doesn’t have much idea what’s going on and maybe he shouldn’t be, but he really is a bit terrified by it. 

“I want to,” he repeats, quieter and with traces of disbelief. 

Bucky’s gaze softens. He searches Steve’s eyes for a second and then offers a small smile. 

“Hey,” he murmurs. “Come here.” 

When he holds out a hand, Steve doesn’t hesitate to take it. 

He pulls Steve to his side and drops his hand so that he can wrap his arm around Steve’s waist. Steve shuts his eyes for a second, overcome by the relief he feels when he’s pressed against Bucky again, his front to Bucky’s side. 

Bucky waits until his eyes are open again to keep talking. 

“You’re not lying to me, are you, Rogers?” 

Steve shakes his head and whispers. “No.” 

“Promise?” 

“Yes.” 

Bucky watches him for another beat, chewing on his bottom lip in a very distracting manner, then nods slowly. 

“Alright,” he agrees. “Same rules. You stop anytime you need to. Got it?” 

“Got it,” Steve rasps. 

“I mean it.” 

“I know.” Steve has to smile. 

Bucky smiles back and leads him over to a wooden bench pressed against a wall and pulls Steve down with him, slouching down more comfortably while Steve watches him. 

Steve plants his left hand in the little gap between the wall and Bucky’s ass, turned slightly towards Bucky and leaning into his space. Bucky rests his right hand on Steve’s thigh and it really shouldn’t send tingles through Steve’s body, but Steve’s shivering all the same. 

“Ready?” 

Steve nods, eyes glued to where Bucky’s unoccupied fingers are slipping under his waistband. 

He simply watches, struck useless by his nerves as more and more skin is revealed and-

Oh. 

Well. 

The rumors are true. 

Bucky Barnes really does have a nice dick. 

Steve knows he’s not exactly a pro in this field, but that’s definitely a huge cock and it certainly looks like it came straight out of a porno or something. Thick, long, just the right amount of veiny, and the perfect shade of light pink at the tip. 

Huh.

When exactly did he determine that there was a right amount of veins and a perfect shade of pink for a dick? 

Apparently five seconds ago, when Bucky pulled his out. 

Steve blushes, like Bucky didn’t just spend ten minutes jerking him off, and suddenly the immobilizing nervousness is back. 

“You know you don’t have to do this, right?” Bucky’s brows are furrowed. “I really hope you don’t feel obligated or something. I don’t expect you to do anything. I’m not going to tell anyone a word of what just happened. That won’t change if you decide you don’t want to do this part, too.” 

“I’m not worried about that,” Steve admits, voice small. 

“What are you worried about?” 

“I don’t- I want…” Steve tries to make eye contact but he can’t hold it for more than a second. “I want it to be good for you, too.” 

He’s surprised Bucky even heard him. He barely said it loud enough to reach his own ears. 

“Don’t worry about what’s good for me,” Bucky says softly. “I want it to be good for you.” 

Steve does look up at that because what? 

Bucky smiles at Steve’s confused face. “Your first time with a guy, right?” 

Dropping his eyes again, Steve nods. 

“Okay, then. I want it to be good. Want you to feel good about it, have a positive experience. I don’t know- learn something. For your next time.” 

Steve frowns to himself because he’s not so sure why Bucky seems to think Steve is going to have a next time.

But it’s a nice sentiment, he supposes. 

Sweet. Thoughtful. 

If he ever finds out that any of his gay friends are virgins, he’ll send them Bucky’s way, for sure. 

Right now, though. 

He’s on a mission. 

Bucky has taken time out of his day to make Steve feel good, was really nice about it too, and it got Steve curious enough, at least. He’d never stop thinking about it if he didn’t at least try to do the same for Bucky. 

“I just don’t-“ Steve starts confidently, but starts stuttering when he looks back down at Bucky’s hard dick. “Uh. I don’t know how to, um, you know- Like, obviously, I know how to- For myself, but- Well, not obviously, it’s not like I do it all the time or anything, but-“ 

“You’re very cute,” Bucky smiles fondly, pretty eyes sparkling as they watch Steve shift anxiously. 

Steve should probably say something about that. Shut it down. Deny it. Something. 

Instead, he blushes and tries to fight a smile off his lips. 

“Shut up,” he rolls his eyes, but the tiny grin is still on the corners of his mouth. “You know what I’m trying to say.” 

“I do,” Bucky agrees easily. “But there’s not much difference. Just do what you like. I’m sure I’ll like it, too. We can make adjustments from there.” 

Oh. That’s a good point. 

“Um, okay.” 

“Relax,” Bucky smirks. “Been pretty keyed up ever since I noticed you looking. I’m not going to last too long.” 

Yeah, maybe if I manage to not fuck this up. 

Steve means to study the way Bucky’s gently stroking himself right now so he can copy it in a second but he finds it extremely difficult to think, all of a sudden. 

Bucky doesn’t coax him, doesn’t say anything, doesn’t sigh or clear his throat. When Steve pulls himself out of his stupor, he again feels a wave of gratitude for Bucky’s extreme patience. 

Steve hesitantly reaches out and Bucky’s hand pauses on his shaft. He shifts his hand so that his dick is more or less just resting in his palm and gives Steve the opportunity to run his unsure fingers along one of the veins. 

He can’t find an explanation for the thrill that surges through him as Bucky twitches beneath his fingers or the sharp breath he takes when Bucky’s hand squeezes his thigh. 

And he wishes he could say that he couldn’t see a correlation between those two things and the rush of confidence he feels, but he’s not a good enough liar for that claim. 

Bucky’s hand carefully slips out of the way and he gives a soft grunt when Steve wraps his hand around Bucky’s dick, squeezing gently. 

Now that he’s actually holding another guy’s cock in his fist, all of his confidence has disappeared. 

Am I really doing this? 

Oh, God. I’m really doing this. 

Okay, then. 

Wow.

Fuck. 

Steve breathes in deep, breathes out slow. 

Bucky starts rubbing those therapeutic circles with his thumb again. 

It’s enough to get Steve to start stroking, slow and tentative, but growing steadier with each pass of his hand. 

“You feel good,” Bucky mumbles, eyes closed. 

Steve’s glad he doesn’t see the way he’s blushing in response, but he does regain some confidence and starts stroking more purposefully. 

Bucky does talk him through it, offering suggestions on how to twist his wrist, how to pick up on what makes your partner tick. 

“Focus on me, Rogers. When you find out what gets me going, don’t be shy. You let me have it. Okay?” 

Turns out, if this is something you’ve been doing to yourself since your teens, it really isn’t that hard to do it to someone else. 

Especially when that someone keeps a steady stream of encouragement running in your ears the way Bucky does. 

“There you go.” 

“Just like that.” 

“Fuck, that’s nice.” 

The breathy praise swirls around in his mind, heating him up and calming his nerves. 

There’s still a churning feeling in his gut. Nervousness, anxiety, fear, guilt, shame. They’re all there. 

But, for now, they’re heavily outweighed by satisfaction, curiosity, and determination. 

He wants to make Bucky feel good. The thought keeps overriding every other thought he has. 

Bucky’s hushed moans are so much more dignified than the desperate noises Steve had made and Steve is so absorbed by them. He really wants to make Bucky lose that composure. 

And when he finally sees some precome sneaking out of Bucky’s slit, it floods him with excitement. 

He can feel Bucky throbbing in his hand and his mouth falls open a little in shock at the way it gets him feeling hot again. He steals a glance up at Bucky’s face, then does a double-take when he notices that those piercing eyes are already watching him. 

Steve stares back helplessly, frozen and a bit embarrassed at getting caught looking. 

Jesus Christ, Rogers. Your hand is literally on this man’s dick. Why the fuck are you embarrassed for looking at him?

Regardless of whether it’s reasonable or not, Steve’s embarrassment has him losing his rhythm a bit, which only worsens the situation and makes him want to disappear because he should not be able to fuck up a handjob of all things. 

But Bucky only reaches a hand up to softly rest on Steve’s and gently guide him back to rhythm, then lets it fall with a satisfied hum when Steve gets his shit together. Bucky’s eyes drift closed again and he lets his head loll back against the wall, and damn if Steve can’t help but let his eyes get pulled back to that magnetic face. 

He’s going to end up drawing Bucky like this. 

Relaxed, blissful, at peace. 

He’ll fight that urge like hell, but he has no doubt that he’ll lose that battle, too. 

He’ll probably have a rough sketch done in two, maybe three days tops. 

Why does Bucky have to look so good like this? 

Fuck, why does Bucky feel so good in his hand? 

Why can’t he stop looking at Bucky’s lips? 

Right now, they’re parted and wet from Bucky’s tongue that keeps slipping out to lick them every once in a while. They’re the prettiest natural shade of pink and they’re so damn pouty. Full and beautifully curved and oh, goddamn it. 

Let me stop looking at his lips before I start thinking something else crazy. Like wanting to know how they feel or something. If they’re warm, or as soft as they lo-

… Motherfucker.

Steve’s about to go into full blown panic, so he tears his eyes away and refocuses them on Bucky’s dick.

Which, okay, honestly? Not the best backup plan. 

It does distract him from Bucky’s mouth, but now he’s looking at Bucky’s cock and Steve’s cock is twitching with new interest and he has no idea what to do with that. 

Thankfully, Bucky lets out his loudest moans yet and starts talking. 

“I’m gonna come,” he pants. “You want me to finish this off or do you wanna do it?” 

Steve should definitely let him do it.

“Trying to take credit for my work,” Steve says instead, with no idea where the playfulness came from. “I thought you’d be above that.” 

Am I… Is my mouth even connected to my brain? 

Bucky huffs a laugh. “Come on, then, Rogers.” 

Then there’s that devilish grin curling the corner of Bucky’s lips and he rolls his head towards Steve, licking his lips as he looks at him through heavy-lidded eyes. 

“Make me come, sweetheart.” 

Steve’s eyes widen, but he doubles down on his efforts, watching with fascination as Bucky sinks further into pleasure. 

Pleasure that Steve’s giving him. 

If Bucky’s the one so close to an orgasm, why the fuck does Steve feel like he’s floating on a fucking cloud right now? 

Bucky’s hand tightens on Steve’s thigh and he thrust his hips up into Steve’s grip, and then there’s thick ropes of come coating Steve’s hand and dripping down his fingers.

Bucky’s relatively quiet when he comes, too, Steve notes. There’s a soft clicking noise in the back of his throat and a few heavy breaths that grow into moans, and Steve doesn’t understand why he likes that so much. 

He stares down at his fist, still pumping and collecting more of Bucky’s release. He’s pretty sure his mouth his hanging wide open and he looks like a fucking idiot, but that’s the least of his worries right now. 

That was fucking hot. 

Steve can’t even begin to skirt around that realization. 

Why was that so fucking hot?

When he finally lets go, his hand shakes as he pulls it back. He looks down at the sticky mess and can’t believe that he’s not completely freaking out. 

Bucky catches his breath for a second, then pushes himself up and goes to clean himself off with a towel. Steve is still stuck in a bit of a daze, so he just watches him. 

Bucky glances back at him and him huffs with amusement. He throws a towel at Steve, and he’s barely able to catch it before it hits him in the face. 

“You good, man?” Steve was expecting some amount of teasing in Bucky’s voice, but there’s nothing there but genuine concern. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” Steve nods. He doesn’t know for sure if it’s the truth or not. 

They get dressed in a less than comfortable silence and Bucky doesn’t even try to hide the way he’s keeping an eye on Steve. By the time he’s pulling his socks on, Steve’s worked himself back into a mild panic.

He pauses before he puts his shoes on, hoping it will allow for some distance between Bucky and him as they walk out. 

Bucky doesn’t let him off the hook so easily. 

“So,” he starts again, almost the same tone he used at the beginning of this. 

Wonderful. They’re going to talk about it. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Bucky’s standing a few feet in front of him and even that feels perilously close. 

“I’m good.” He continues lamely when he notices Bucky’s skepticism. “Really. I’m good.”

Bucky lets a few moments go by in silence, clearly waiting on Steve to say something further. Luckily, Steve’s mouth is resting from all of the mindless running that it’s done thus far, and he’s able to stay quiet. 

“Right,” Bucky sighs, watching him warily. “If you’re not going to say anything now, can you atleast give me your phone so I can put my number in it and pretend to feel a bit better about letting you walk out of here like this?”

Steve hands his phone over like he’s on autopilot. If he had thought about it for even one second, he’d recognize it for the terrible idea that it is. 

“Don’t hesitate to let me know if you find that you do need someone to talk to about any of this,” Bucky tells him seriously. 

“I won’t.” That‘s almost certainly not true. 

Bucky gives him a look like he knows Steve is lying. 

“So, uh,” Steve says awkwardly after he pulls his hoodie on. “Thanks?” 

For fuck’s sake. 

“Oh, you’re welcome,” Bucky grins, eyebrows raised in amusement. 

Steve’s blushing again. 

“Give me a break, okay? I don’t know what to say.” 

“‘Thanks’ is fine, I guess,” Bucky shrugs, shouldering his bag. “Not necessary, though. I’m more than happy to help. Anytime you want to learn something else, you call me first. Understood?” 

He pauses to look Steve over again, that wicked grin taking its shape on his lips. 

“I’ll teach you anything you want to know, Rogers.” 

Steve hopes Bucky didn’t catch the way his breath hitches at that fucking tone. Bucky’s smug grin is all he needs to see to know that he definitely did. 

“Right,” Steve clears his throat. “Yes. Good. Wait, I mean- I didn’t mean… I just, um- Thank you. That’s… nice of you.” 

Bucky’s lips are pressed together, but he’s hardly trying to hide his clear amusement from Steve. Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything else, just nods at Steve before he’s turning and gathering his things again. 

Steve watches him, confused by the new feeling that’s spreading in his gut as Bucky starts heading towards the door. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think it was disappointment. 

“Hey, Steve.” Bucky stops right before he rounds the corner. 

He’s worried what his voice will do, so Steve just meets Bucky’s eyes and smiles tightly. Bucky lets his eyes drift over Steve’s body before locking back on Steve’s curious stare. 

“I really hope I hear from you.” 

And then he’s gone. 

There’s the faint thud of the door closing behind him and, just like that, Steve is alone with his thoughts. 

He wishes Bucky would have left him with any other parting image than those gorgeous stormcloud eyes, soft but simmering, framed by dark lashes and gazing at him warmly. 

Steve’s no fool. 

He knows that look. He’s seen that look when Bucky was using it on someone else. It’s very clearly one of Bucky’s moves, just one of the countless ways he pulls people in. 

But holy shit, it’s a good move. 

And damn if it’s not working on Steve, too. 

Steve almost wants to get up and chase Bucky down. He has no idea what he’d say if he did, or what he even would want from Bucky. He just knows that he feels a bit like an asshole and he can’t pinpoint it to any particular reason, but he’s definitely getting the feeling that he handled this all wrong. 

He wasn’t mean to Bucky or anything. He was a little dismissive there afterwards, but surely that can be excused by the whole ‘just got off with another guy for the first- and only- time’ situation, right? 

So, why does he feel like he needs to go after Bucky? 

Steve sighs and looks over at the spot on the floor where his come is still laying. He takes his time cleaning it up, washing the spot twice like getting rid of the evidence will stop him from remembering the exact tile every time he walks in here from now on. 

He figures it’s been long enough since Bucky left, so he picks his bag up and heads out. 

There’s two new people behind the reception desk when he walks out the gym- something he’s super grateful for, even though he doubts the other two would have been paying any attention to him. 

They would’ve been paying attention to Bucky, though. 

It’s even colder outside than it was before, and Steve can’t keep away the recent memory of being wrapped up and warm in Bucky’s arms. The thought has Steve practically jogging to his car, wanting as much distance from himself and what he did as possible. 

Of course, distance doesn’t really help. Even when Steve’s in his car and heading back to his apartment, he keeps picturing Bucky, keeps feeling phantom tingles in places that mirror the touches Bucky left on his skin. He tries to pretend the goosebumps on his arms are from the cold, but the heat coming out of his car vents is taunting him and making it impossible to believe his own lie.

When he makes it back to his apartment, he hesitates outside the door despite the chill creeping back down his spine. 

He’s not sure that he’s ready to face his roommate. Sam has this way about him that lets him read people like they’re open books. He’ll know something’s up the second Steve opens this door. 

Steve definitely wouldn’t admit to anything, but he doesn’t particularly feel like lying to Sam. It’s not something he does, especially not when it’s Sam, and he doesn’t really want to add onto his guilt, but he’ll lie about this until he’s had enough time to figure out what this was. Taking a deep breath, he unlocks the door and pushes it open.

As it turns out, the extra minutes in the biting cold were entirely unnecessary because Sam is either out somewhere or already in bed. Steve lets out the breath he was holding and eases his way to his own bedroom and starts getting ready for bed robotically, absently going through the motions as his mind races through every step of his routine. 

When he’s back from brushing his teeth, he crawls under his covers and stares blankly up at the ceiling. He’s pushed himself up against the wall because his phone is sitting on the edge of his bedside table and he doesn’t trust himself to not pick it up and send Bucky some humiliating message that he would instantly regret.

He’s not far enough away, though, because after about ten minutes of spiraling, he finds himself with his phone in his hand, squinting slightly because of the lit screen, and staring at Bucky’s contact information. 

Maybe he should just say something. Get it over with. Go ahead and let Bucky know there won’t be a next time.

Steve’s pounding heart and churning stomach keep him from doing anything. 

He sets his phone aside and tries to take deep breaths, overwhelming panic sneaking up on him once again. He can’t fight it off this time though, quickly losing control and starting to hyperventilate. He fumbles around in the top drawer of the bedside table until he feels the familiar shape of his inhaler. 

A couple puffs and a few minutes later, Steve’s breathing is back to a nearly manageable speed and he closes his eyes, suddenly exhausted. He keeps them closed and listens to see if he woke Sam up, but all is quiet and he breathes a sigh of relief. 

Then the tears come. 

They start off slow and silent, but soon, they’re pouring out and leaving hot trails down Steve’s face and it’s taken everything in him to not sob out loud. Both of his hands are covering his mouth and he’s squeezing his eyes shut, but there’s too many tears and they spill out anyway. His breaths are hitching and quickly picking up speed again. He turns his face into the pillow, just in time to muffle a sob that slipped past his lips. 

He doesn’t know how long he lays like that, but it’s long enough that it’s how he eventually falls asleep- face buried in a tear-damp pillow as his barely-contained sobs shake his whole body. 

Steve wakes the next morning with his face stiff and eyes puffy, staring vacantly at his phone lying beside him. 

Any doubts he had are gone. 

He wants to see Bucky again. 

He doesn’t quite know what that means for him, yet, but he does know it’s not a good idea. Sure, Bucky’s a nice guy, but he’s also incredibly popular and people talk about him at any opportunity. Steve doesn’t want to be caught up in that. 

If this is something that he needs to explore about himself, then he needs to explore it in peace. He doesn’t need to be looking over his shoulder or worrying about who knows. His sex life is his, and his alone. Bucky’s sex life, even if he doesn’t want it to be and despite there not being much to go off of, is the main campus gossip.

So, Steve’s mind is made up. 

He’s not texting Bucky. 

Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop him from thinking about him over the next several days, though. 

He thinks about Bucky all day, for no reason at all. 

Steve really thinks about him when he goes back to the gym and avoids the locker room entirely.

The only time Steve doesn’t think about him is three days later when he can’t take it anymore and calls Peggy Carter- his favorite hook-up- and is watching her pretty tits bounce as she’s riding his dick. 

Well, definitely not gay, then. 

But as soon as she’s back out the door, Steve is back to staring at Bucky’s number. 

He has it memorized by now. 

He also has a list of messages typed out in the note app on his phone that are all directed to Bucky because, sometimes, Steve gets the urge to send Bucky a text and he thinks it might help him if he types it and gets it out of his system, but that’s irrelevant. 

What’s relevant is that Steve just fucked a beautiful girl, watched her fall apart under his touch, and he’s still not satisfied. 

Her small hands were soft and felt good, but now, it’s only reminding him of the obvious contrast from Bucky’s large, rough hands. 

He thinks back and realizes that some of Bucky’s words had slipped into his own praise and encouragement for Peggy, but he can’t help but wonder if they even sounded as good when they weren’t spoken in Bucky’s rumbling voice. 

Steve is sitting on the living room couch, leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together and supporting his chin. He’s placed his phone on the coffee table and is staring at it contemplatively. 

He’s probably missed his chance. 

It’s been three days. 

Bucky probably wasn’t even serious. 

Surely, Steve didn’t even do a good job. Bucky was just being nice because it was Steve’s first time.

But, Bucky did offer to talk Steve through this revelation. 

Maybe they could just talk about that. 

Bucky can just listen to his spiraling thoughts and offer some advice. 

He’d do that. Bucky’s a good guy.

Maybe Steve can get a new friend out of this. 

He definitely needs to talk about it, though. This is killing him and Sam’s getting suspicious, but Steve doesn’t want anyone to know until he knows what’s going on with himself. 

Fuck, but what if Bucky gives him that look again, or speaks to him in that tone? Is Steve still going to get curious and want to find out? He knows Bucky can make him feel good. Will he be able to stop himself from letting it happen again? 

Maybe he shouldn’t text Bucky. 

Steve is self-aware enough to recognize that he shares similarities with other horny college guys. He shouldn’t make decisions like one. Horny college guys do nothing but make bad decisions. 

Steve nods to himself and walks away from his phone.

If there’s one thing he’s sure about, it’s that Bucky Barnes is a bad decision.

The next night, Steve is up late, staring at Bucky’s number again. 

He’s just finished jerking himself off and it took the edge off, sure, but he wants more. 

He types out another text that he’s not actually going to send, but this time, he types it directly under Bucky’s name.

Steve walks Maria back to her car and kisses her briefly before she leaves. 

When he gets back in his room, he leans against the door and rubs a hand down his face, deeply annoyed with himself. It might be worse having a brief respite in Peggy or Maria or whoever, then having his mind flooded with thoughts of Bucky as soon as they leave. 

He knows it’s just the curiosity in him. 

He knows curiosity killed the cat. 

That doesn’t stop him from picking up his phone and typing in Bucky’s name. 

Steve types another message out, rereading it once or twice and sighing. 

This time, though, he presses send.

Chapter Text

What the hell am I doing? 

Steve gives his reflection a flat look when he realizes that he’s spent the past four minutes trying to tousle his hair so that it settles in the most seemingly effortless way possible. 

He’s going over to Bucky’s apartment. 

Where Bucky lives alone. 

And they’ll be without supervision. 

Or barriers. 

Just the two of them.

Again.  

It’s not a big deal. They’re just going to talk. Steve is going to tell Bucky that he just wants someone he can go to for advice and support while he figures himself out. 

No touching. 

Originally, when he broke and messaged Bucky, he was definitely looking for another quick rendezvous. Steve can admit that much. All he’d actually asked, though, was if Bucky would want to meet up. Pretty ambiguous. He doesn’t know exactly what Bucky’s expecting. 

The problem is that after reading Bucky’s response- an “absolutely” followed by a couple questions checking in on how Steve’s been- Steve was only more determined to get his hands on Bucky again. 

That urge alone is what scared him into changing his mind.

Why was he thinking more about touching Bucky than having Bucky touch him?  

That doesn’t even make sense. 

He can’t be gay- that much he knows. He very much likes women. Sometimes, maybe too much. Soft curves, soft lips, soft touch. Likes them sweet, likes them tough. Likes them pretty much anyway they come. 

There has to be a reason why he’s having this weird thing for Bucky. Sure, Bucky’s abnormally attractive. And very kind. And smart. Talented…

But, Steve has met a lot of nice, attractive, smart, talented guys. 

Hell, he’s living with one. 

Yet, not once has he ever thought of any other guy the way he has thought- is thinking- about Bucky. 

He can’t figure out what that means, what it says about him.

If he’s… into guys, there should be other guys that he finds attractive, right? Shouldn’t he be turned on by more than just one guy? 

Surely, if it’s only Bucky who has his brain short-circuiting, this is just some sort of fluke. 

Right? 

Because Steve is an idiot, he decided to do some home testing to figure out if he actually did have some deeply buried, undiscovered attractions to men. 

… By watching gay porn.  

It did not go well. 

First of all, it took him ten minutes to even work himself up to type it in the search bar. And that was after he locked his door and still waited five minutes, listening for Sam to finally settle down into his own bed. Then, when he eventually hit search, the videos that popped up were oddly specific to certain kinks and just… a bit much, so it took forever to find something that even looked like it might stir something up for him. But the guys in that were too hairy, too performative, too impersonal. 

Too not Bucky. 

Steve had given up very quickly, dick soft and eyes maybe a little traumatized, and instantly deleted his search history. 

All that Steve found out about himself is that whatever this is, whatever’s happening to him, the answer will have to be found with Bucky Barnes. 

And it’s terrifying, realizing that one person is about to become such a pivotal part of your life. 

So, Steve had another two panic attacks over the last forty-two hours. He let his thoughts drive him a little crazy, until he finally convinced himself that going through with this was a terrible idea. 

He wishes he knew where Bucky’s head was at. 

It would make sense, Steve supposes,  if Bucky’s expecting more of what they did in the locker room. 

That’s kind of all they are to each other. 

Just that one brief, shared experience. 

Would Bucky be disappointed if Steve canceled? Surely, he can find a fast replacement if he’s just looking for a good time. Will he be disappointed when Steve tells him he’s just there to talk? 

He almost texted Bucky this morning to claim that he was sick or something came up, but Bucky texted him first. 

“Morning! I’ll be fixing dinner around the time you show up. Any requests? Allergies? Just lmk. Looking forward to seeing you” 

Steve had read it over and over, desperately trying to come up with any other excuse for the warmth flooding his chest, before finally resigning himself to the fact that the reason was obvious. 

And it’s so dumb, because it’s not even like it’s atypically sweet. It’s literally just a guy being polite and considerate so that he doesn’t have to drive someone to the hospital for an allergic reaction. 

And the “looking forward to seeing you” … Well, that’s just Bucky being polite, too. 

Bucky’s always friendly. He’s known for it. 

It doesn’t mean anything. 

Steve looks down at the open sketchbook laying on the dresser in front of him. He doesn’t really need to hide it. The only thing on the paper in front of him is a pair of lips. 

Lips that are both familiar and strange. Pretty lips, widely set and smirking. 

Enticing.

Steve opens a drawer and shoves the sketchbook beneath his socks.

It doesn’t mean anything. 

He gives himself one last look in the mirror. This will have to do. It’s not like it’s a date. He checks his pockets- wallet, keys, phone. All that’s left is to actually leave the apartment and go to Bucky’s. 

… And lie to Sam. 

Sam who would never lie to Steve.

Sam who is actually bisexual and the perfect person to talk to about Bucky. 

Sam who will be so hurt when he finds out that Steve’s hiding something from him. 

Alright. Just get it over with. 

When he walks out into the living room, Sam is sprawled out on the couch, playing a song on his phone and nodding his head to the beat. One foot is resting on the couch back, and the other is tapping against the floor. One of his pants legs has gotten stuck halfway up his calf, fully exposing the thick, fuzzy sock he’s wearing. 

Steve is terribly fond of the guy. 

He’s going to hate every second of this. 

“Be back later, Sam,” he interrupts Sam’s music, trying to make a quick exit. Sam is quicker. 

“You’re leaving?” Sam twists his body around until he’s laying on his stomach and staring at Steve over the arm of the couch. “I thought you went to the gym early today since classes start tomorrow?“ 

“I did.” 

Sam raises an eyebrow. “So… where are you going?” 

Oh, God. 

Steve had an excuse planned out for this exact moment. But his gut is clenching and it turns out that lying to Sam is going to be even harder than he thought. 

Apparently, his face looks guilty enough, because Sam narrows his eyes. 

“You’ve been acting real weird these past couple days.”

“No, I haven’t,” Steve deflects. 

“Yes, you have,” Sam insists. “You’ve been all quiet and distant and staring at your phone. What’s going on?” 

Of course Sam noticed. How could he not? 

Steve shrugs. “Nothing. Really. I just-“ 

Just what? Just can’t stop thinking about this guy? 

“Steve. Is this about Peggy?” 

Steve’s eyes dart back to Sam’s. 

Why would he think this is about Peggy? 

The wild look in Steve’s eyes must solidify whatever is going on in Sam’s head, because he starts talking again. 

“Look, man.” Oh, great. This is Sam’s therapist voice. Steve is never befriending another psychology major, even if they’re as good a person as Sam. “I really think you should listen to my advice. If you want her, tell her. All this sleeping together without sharing your feelings is just going to turn out badly for you.” 

Oh. 

Steve had kind of… not thought about his feelings for Peggy in a few days. Not even when she was in his bed a few nights ago. 

She’s an amazing girl. Smart and fierce and beautiful. She’s sweet, and those big brown eyes really do a number on him. Not to mention, that red lipstick that she’s so fond of gets him every time. Makes him want to make a mess of her polished appearance. So he does, and she’s just as stunning that way, too. She’s a friend, but there’s always been a pull between them. She’s his favorite fuck, but she’s also his best girl. 

He’d told Sam just a couple weeks ago that he thinks he might have feelings for her. He’s not sure, though. Never was. There’s definitely something that lingers between the two of them, but… 

“It wouldn’t work out between us,” Steve says, inching towards the door. “I don’t even know if they’re real feelings. I told you that.” 

“Might help if you stop fucking other people.” 

Steve rolls his eyes, but there is a twinge of guilt in his stomach.

Sam eyes him carefully, but sighs. 

“Fine. Go make love to the beautiful girl that you may or may not have feelings for and leave your best friend all by himself.” 

“You could go somewhere, too, you know,” Steve grins. “What’s Darcy doing tonight? Or that guy from-” 

Steve manages to close the door in time to block the pillow that’s hurtling towards his face. He’s laughing, feeling much lighter than he did a few minutes ago. 

He didn’t even have to actually lie to Sam. Sure, he let him believe a mistruth, but he doesn’t feel as guilty over that. 

And at least he left Sam with something to do. There’s no chance he won’t be calling or texting Darcy in the next twenty minutes. And he’ll definitely be thinking about that guy he can’t help but gush about. Maybe he’ll finally take the leap. 

Steve hopes he does. Hopes Sam takes his own advice about sharing feelings. 

He’s still got a small smile on his face when he makes it to the bus stop, no interest in moving his car and risking not having a good parking spot when he gets back. 

Steve timed it, so he’s only standing in the cold for less than a minute when the bus pulls up. 

He’s glad there’s not many people on it. He thinks his nervous jittering would get him more than a few judgmental glances. 

He checks his phone, looking at his text thread with Bucky for what has to be the thousandth time today. 

On my way, Steve had sent before he’d left his apartment. He has a response waiting on him. 

Just started dinner. Be careful, see you soon! 

It’s still stupid, but he doesn’t even try to fight back his smile. 

He’s standing outside Bucky’s door, shifting nervously and tapping his fingers in an anxious pattern against the sides of his thighs. He tries to reach out to knock, but he pulls his arm back when a wave of apprehension crashes over him. He stands with one arm across his chest and the other fist pressed to his mouth, like he’s staring at some complex equation and not trying to work up the courage to knock on a fucking door. 

An older woman leaves her apartment, eyeing Steve distrustfully when he stops staring at the door with deep contemplation, jumping and jerking his head in her direction after hearing her door creak open. 

He should probably get this over with before he gets the cops called on him for loitering or suspicious activity. 

So, he takes a deep breath, counts to three- twice- and knocks. 

The waiting is almost unbearable. He doesn’t know why. It’s only been a few seconds. Still, every millisecond that Bucky doesn’t open the door, the harder it is for him to not turn and run. 

Then Bucky’s there, swinging the door open and flashing that crooked grin and he looks unfairly good and Steve is overwhelmed just by the sight of him. 

“Just so we’re clear, I’m not here to have sex with you,” Steve blurts.

His eyes widen once he processes his own words. 

Bucky blinks. 

If a black hole chose to form underneath Steve’s feet right now and drop him off the face of the earth, he really wouldn’t be mad at it. 

“Hey, Rogers. Nice to see you, too. I’m doing great, thanks for asking.” 

Bucky’s expression is a mix of mild amusement, and Steve can’t be sure- he doesn’t really know the guy- but there might be some hint of hurt or annoyance in there, too. 

“Fuck, Bucky, I am so sorry,” Steve rushes out. “I didn’t mean to just- That wasn’t- I wasn’t trying to- Fuck. I’m sorry. I’m just…”

“Nervous?” Bucky finishes after watching Steve scramble, the amusement winning over his face. 

Steve sighs. “Yeah.” 

Bucky’s lips quirk up but he manages to control them before they turn into a full blown grin. His eyes, however, communicate very clearly that he wants to burst out laughing at Steve. 

He’s a nice guy, though, so he just opens the door a little wider, taking a half step back and nodding his head towards the inside of his apartment. 

“So, are you coming in or did you want to keep standing out in the cold?” 

Steve actually hasn’t noticed the temperature since he stopped at Bucky’s door. He’s been too busy standing like an idiot, insides warm from nervousness and face warm from blushing. 

Still, he takes the invitation and makes his way past Bucky, not wanting to focus too hard on the way Bucky’s proximity provides him with a whole other kind of warmth, but not quite succeeding. 

He’s only in the entry hallway, but he can already tell Bucky’s place is nicer than his. 

A couple more steps down the short hallway proves him right. It’s more modern, lighter colors and sleek designs. 

The living room is a relatively big, open area. There’s an L-shaped sectional sofa that Steve thinks surely can’t truthfully be nearly as comfortable as it looks. It’s facing a somewhat large TV on an entertainment center that also houses a gaming console. Bucky’s apparently into plants, because he has some, big and little, placed decoratively around the space. 

“I’d give you the tour,” Bucky starts, making Steve jump. It takes him a second to realize that the voice isn’t right behind him, but instead coming from the kitchen that he’d walked right past so he turns back to check it out too. “But I’m a bit busy preparing your kid’s meal. Feel free to give yourself a tour. Everything else is to the left.”

Like every apartment, the kitchen area is too small, but it’s bigger than most and has more counter space, something Sam would greatly appreciate. 

“Okay,” Steve says, eyes roaming over every cabinet before looking out over the bar to see the view of the living room from here. He lingers on Bucky, chopping things up on a cutting board, arm muscles bulging and distracting enough that Steve has to turn fully around and stare at the refrigerator. 

There’s nothing so remarkable about the apartment that Steve thinks it’s overly pricey, but Bucky’s appliances are all dark, stainless steel and that alone makes it look far more expensive than Steve’s. 

It’s only when he’s about to step out of the kitchen that his brain processes Bucky’s teasing quip. 

“Hey!” Steve turns back, finding Bucky grinning down at the tomatoes he’s dicing. 

He looks up at Steve, eyes sparkling as he puts on an innocent mask. 

“Hm?” 

“It’s not a kid’s meal,” Steve grumps. 

“I’m just saying,” Bucky shrugs, turning back to continue his quick and precise knife work. “When a man offers to cook for you, and you request taco salad of all things…” 

In truth, he had panicked a bit when Bucky had insisted that he cook for them tonight. Steve thought way too much about it, trying to determine if a certain request would be too demanding, too outrageous, too anything. 

So, he Googled “easiest meals for college students” and picked the thing that showed up on the most lists. 

And that happened to be taco salad. 

So it’s not childish , thank you. It’s considerate. 

Steve huffs. “Well, I’m just easy. Nothing wrong with that.” 

He regrets the word choice instantly. Before he even sees Bucky’s motions come to a halt and the mischievous smirk forming in the corner of his mouth. 

When Bucky looks over at him, the glint in those grey-blue eyes is teasing. Dirty. 

Beautiful. 

“Nothing wrong with that at all,” Bucky agrees, eyes venturing down Steve’s body quickly before he goes back to chopping. 

Steve is stuck, staring at the lingering smile on Bucky’s face. He’s tingling all throughout his body and that’s just not fair. 

He manages to get himself moving, and it’s tempting to run away to some place where his mind and body don’t do weird things but he won’t waste time pretending that he’d actually be able to walk out the door just yet. 

So he does what Bucky suggested and makes his way through the living room and into the other small hallway, leaning his head into each room he comes across. 

Laundry room, bathroom, storage closet. 

The last room must be Bucky’s bedroom. Steve lingers here, staring at the door that’s cracked open just a hair, nowhere near enough to see anything. 

He wants to push that door open, see what Bucky’s most personal space looks like. 

But he doesn’t. 

Can’t. 

He goes back towards the kitchen, choosing to sit at one of the barstools and pretending it’s not so he can look over the counter and watch Bucky as he puts the finishing touches on their meal. 

Part of him wants to get up and offer some help, but he doubts he’d be useful and Bucky already told him over text not to worry about bringing or doing anything because Steve was his guest. 

He sits. Watches. Thinks. 

He’s been doing too much thinking lately. 

Or maybe not enough. 

It’s getting harder to tell. 

Bucky finally comes towards him, sliding a bowl over with a small smile that Steve can’t help but return. 

“What do you want to drink?” Bucky asks, still smiling softly. 

“Water,” Steve answers. His eyes shift to Bucky’s hand, still lingering near Steve’s bowl. Near Steve’s own hand. The last time their hands were this close to each other- “Actually, do you have beer? I’ll take one, if you do.” 

“Sure,” Bucky says brightly. “Only one, though. You drove, right?” 

“Bus. But, yeah. Just the one.” 

God knows what Steve would do or say around this man with too much alcohol coursing through his blood. 

Bucky nods, turning to the refrigerator. Steve finally looks down at the bowl Bucky’s presented him with and- huh. 

It is… very artfully done. It looks professional. Like Bucky’s presenting it to Gordon Ramsay. The vegetables are neatly arranged bursts of color and the sauce is drizzled purposefully on top. 

Steve is still staring, probably looking too awed by taco salad, when Bucky sits a beer bottle in front of him, glass clinking and pulling Steve out of his surprise. 

Bucky joins him on the other side of the counter, taking the barstool next to him but creating a little more space between them. He’s chosen beer for himself, too, and his own bowl is just as beautifully prepared as Steve’s. 

Their eyes meet and Bucky grins a bit, shooting Steve a wink.

Steve tries to pretend he didn’t find it attractive. 

“Trying to impress me or something?” Steve manages after ducking his head to hide a blush. The food looks good, smells good too, but he’s hesitant to mess up Bucky’s work. 

“Of course,” comes Bucky’s response. “I’d be stupid if I weren’t.” 

What does that mean? 

“C’mon, Rogers,” Bucky gestures to Steve’s bowl. “Eat up. I made this just for you.” 

And now Steve’s blushing again, but he does listen. 

He was kind of hoping that Bucky’s food would be average at best, but of course, Bucky can add “great cook” to his long list of positive attributes. 

“So,” Steve starts after several delicious bites. “You’re a chef on the side or something?”

“You like it?” Bucky sounds hopeful. 

Steve gives him a look. 

“Bucky, this is so good. You know that.” 

Bucky smiles a bit, shrugging. “It’s not a very difficult dish. And I’m not a chef, but I do like to cook.” 

“Well, my roommate has banished me from our kitchen.” 

Bucky chuckles softly. 

As far as sounds go, it’s not a bad one. 

“Sounds like a story I need to hear.” 

So Steve tells Bucky about the one time he’d forgotten he had food in the oven and set off the smoke detectors, forcing the whole building to evacuate. He tells him how Sam interpreted this incident as Steve being unable to cook and insists that Steve no longer be permitted kitchen access, even though Steve asserts that he’s not a bad cook, he’s just not an attentive one. 

And Bucky laughs, grins at Steve between sips of beer and bites of food. The conversation branches and they find themselves making friendly small talk, learning small details about one another. 

Talking with Bucky is easy, and he’s not surprised by that. It’s just that he’s fully aware that all Bucky’s doing is giving Steve the opportunity to work himself up to the elephant in the room. 

He appreciates it, but even when both of their bowls are empty and he’s down to only a couple more sips of beer, Steve can’t quite figure out how to bring it up. 

Finally, after several moments of awkward silence that Steve spends shifting nervously and scraping the sauce around in the bottom of his bowl, Bucky either has mercy or loses his patience. 

“So,” he starts as he takes Steve’s dishes away from him and goes to place them in the sink. He rinses the bowls and forks off, then turns and leans on the counter opposite Steve, both arms braced and muscles bulging. “You didn’t come here to fuck.” 

Steve instantly goes rigid and feels his cheeks heat up. There’s a small smile on Bucky’s face and when he continues, his voice is soft. Kind. 

“I need you to know that I don’t expect that from you. I know we don’t know each other too well, but I want you to know that I didn’t invite you to my home just to get you in my bed. You don’t owe me anything. I won’t tell your secrets just because you don’t give me a repeat of what happened between us. Okay?” 

He believes Bucky. He’s not sure why. Bucky’s right- they don’t know each other. All he has to go off of are the few encounters that they’ve had together. Bucky’s a nice guy on the surface, sure, but Steve has no way of knowing how deep that goes. 

Looking at Bucky now, though, with those expressive eyes so warm and earnest, Steve is having a hard time not trusting the guy. 

“Okay,” he whispers. 

Bucky nods, expression still solemn and eyes still searching Steve’s. 

“Okay,” he echoes. “So why did you come here?” 

There’s no bite or heat in the words, just pure curiosity. Still, it has Steve ducking his head and taking a deep breath. 

“I- Um,” Steve glances back up at Bucky, who’s watching him closely, a tiny crease between his eyebrows. “It’s just that I- Well, you said- I was hoping-”

Steve closes his eyes and sighs his frustration. When he opens them, Bucky’s at his side and nodding his head towards the sofa. “Come sit with me.” 

He follows Bucky over to the sofa, and Bucky sits in the corner of the sectional, giving Steve plenty of opportunity to choose how much space is going to be between them. It’s no surprise that, instead of just sitting somewhere like a normal person, Steve stands and visibly contemplates the pros and cons of every seating possibility. 

If he sits all the way at the end of the sectional, he kind of looks like a dick but he also would be less likely to act on any… strange impulses he might get. If he sits next to Bucky, he’s definitely going to have those impulses and a whole lot of thoughts to accompany them, but he hasn’t forgotten how nice it feels to be encompassed by Bucky’s warmth. Somewhere in the middle makes the most sense, but Steve’s not convinced that would be far enough to keep his mind clear. 

Your mind isn’t even clear right now, you fucking idiot. 

Bucky waits patiently, a small smile curving the corners of his lips. 

Amusement is a good look on him. 

Steve finds himself settling much closer to Bucky than to safety. 

Moth to the flame. 

He sits with his hands clasped on his lap, eyes focusing on a book that’s been left out on the table. 

“What were you hoping, Steve?” Bucky prompts gently. 

Sitting here, so far, is easier than sitting at the counter and looking up at Bucky, so Steve does actually find words this time. 

“I was hoping your offer to, uh, talk about… this was still on the table.” 

“You mean in general? Like advice?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Definitely,” Bucky says instantly. 

Steve looks up at him. It’s a mistake, because Bucky is looking at him with so much sincerity and kindness and oh my God, he is so handsome. Steve gets stuck, eyes locked with Bucky’s and a blush spreading on his cheeks. Suddenly, it feels like Steve left too much space between them. 

“You know,” Bucky smiles, then whispers conspiratorially. “If you came here to talk, you kind of have to say something, too.” 

Apparently, Steve’s cerebrum forgets that speech is one of its responsibilities whenever Bucky’s even relatively close. It’s very unhelpful and embarrassing. 

“Right,” he finally chokes out. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s… I don’t know.” 

Bucky takes his turn to be quiet now, but his silence is calculated as he looks Steve over. Pretty grey eyes analyze every inch of Steve’s body. It has him feeling hot, breathing a little harder. The last time Bucky looked at him like that- 

Steve clears his throat and readjusts in his seat. He ends up an inch or two closer to Bucky, but that’s definitely just an accident. Definitely. 

Bucky’s gaze flits down to the shortened distance between them, then back up to Steve and the guy really shouldn’t be able to say so fucking much with just his eyes, but Steve hears his thoughts loud and clear. 

“Um,” he tries to say something again, even though he knows it’s probably a mistake. His mouth and his brain did not work together last time. “Advice. Right. So, uh, just like, I was wondering if you’d help me out with-”

Mid-sentence, he recalls the last time Bucky “helped out” with something. 

If the twitch in his jeans is any indication, his dick is getting flashbacks too. 

Damn it. 

Bucky’s not quite smirking now, but there’s a knowing tilt to his lips. 

“I’ll help out in any way you want, Steve,” Bucky says, voice dipped a little lower than before. “You just gotta tell me how.” 

“Right,” Steve repeats, still not able to look away from Bucky’s eyes. 

He’s not unaware that he’s leaning closer to Bucky now. 

Fuck, I want to touch him. 

Just get a hand on one of those thighs. 

He’s been thinking about touching Bucky for days and now Bucky is right there. 

All he’d have to do is move another couple inches and his fingertips could reach Bucky’s knee. He’s sure of it. 

He desperately tries to remember all the reasons he’d come up with that proved why this was such a bad idea, but he can’t remember them. 

Can’t even make one up. 

Didn’t he just come here to talk? 

Why am I not talking? 

Bucky is simply watching him, eyes switching focus from Steve’s own eyes to his twiddling thumbs to his bouncing leg and back up. 

“Rogers.” 

Steve hums in acknowledgement, not very trusting of his voice, but even that comes out sounding too high-pitched. 

“Relax. Breathe for me,” Bucky murmurs. 

Steve breathes. Slow, deep breaths. He unclasps his hands, lays them flat on either side of his thighs. 

“There you go. Just like that. That’s good.” 

He’s blushing. 

Because Bucky told him he did a good job breathing. 

Jesus. 

It’s a few more moments of that, Steve breathing and closing his eyes so he can get a break from Bucky’s sweet face. 

Of course, all he sees then are the memories of the locker room and the situation in his pants might be getting worse, but he’s being good and breathing and his leg isn’t bouncing anymore. 

When he opens his eyes, he’s hesitant to look back at Bucky but curiosity wins out again. 

Bucky smiles when Steve looks at him and shifts forward, elbows resting on his knees. 

“Better?” 

“Better,” Steve confirms. 

“Talk to me.” 

“I can’t- I don’t know why… I don’t know what’s going on with me.” Steve lets out a breath. 

“Okay,” Bucky nods. “Do you want to go more into detail about that?” 

“Um. Well, it’s just that… I’ve never done that with a guy before. And- See, I’ve never even thought about it. So I don’t get- I don’t know why- You…. I don’t know why I did that with you.” 

There’s some flash of emotion across Bucky’s face that Steve didn’t quite catch but might have been a mix of guilt and regret. 

“No! No not like- I just meant that I’ve never been interested in guys before and it was- Is really confusing. I don’t understand why it was so different with you. Don’t get me wrong! You’re very, uh, handsome and all and you seem like a great guy but… I’ve been around you before, you know, and it’s never been… like that. So I just don’t know where it came from. But I don’t regret it or anything, if that’s what you thought I meant. It was, um- It felt nice.” 

Steve sort of misses three minutes ago when his mouth wouldn’t work.

There’s renewed amusement in the crinkle of Bucky’s eyes, but his smile is genuine. 

“I agree,” is all Bucky says, raising his eyebrows and nodding his head for Steve to continue. 

“Good. Great. Right, so, what I’m trying to say is that it was nice. With you. But I don’t know what that means. For me.” 

“This type of thing isn’t usually crystal clear at the start,” Bucky says. “And if a clear-cut answer is what you’re looking for, honestly, you may never get it.” 

Steve doesn’t say anything, just looks down at the shortened distance between their legs. 

Did I move even closer? 

“But-“ Steve doesn’t even know what to say to Bucky without sounding like an idiot- or worse, an asshole. “I don’t- I’m still not… into, um, men.” 

Bucky’s eyes rake over Steve and Steve can feel his dick fattening like it’s trying to catch Bucky’s attention. 

“Not to sound arrogant, Rogers,” Bucky says, but there’s a cocky smirk gracing his lips. “But you still seem pretty into me. Is that right?” 

He should say no. 

It would be a lie, and they’d both know it, but he should say no. 

Steve’s eyes are wide as he nods slowly.  

Bucky smiles and Steve thinks Bucky shifts closer until he realizes that it’s actually him who’s narrowing the remaining space between them. 

“I’m a man, right, Rogers?” 

Helplessly, Steve nods again. 

“So, like I said,” Bucky starts. “You must be a little into men. Don’t you agree?” 

“Just you,” Steve whispers, face hot. 

“Just me,” Bucky’s voice is soft. 

Bucky sits back, one arm spread along the back of the couch and Steve’s eyes drift down his frame. 

It’s an invitation if Steve ever saw one. 

Don’t.

There’s something about the way Bucky’s looking at him that has Steve wanting to be honest. Too honest. He tries to fight the words back, but the silence is too much and Steve’s more than a little tired of battling his brain. 

“Can’t stop thinking about you,” Steve breathes into the space between them. “About how good you made me feel.” 

It’s like a weight lifted off him to say the words, to have Bucky hear them. 

“Been thinking about you, too.” Bucky’s voice is doing that rumbling thing that drove Steve crazy last time and he can feel himself starting to give in. 

And the thing is that Steve can tell that Bucky wants to have his way with Steve. He can see it in the widened pupils, the clench of his jaw. The way it’s so obvious that he’s holding himself back from reaching out and touching. 

Taking. 

But his body is relaxed and open, his side still vacant and all but calling Steve’s name. 

Steve goes. 

He closes the space between them far more gracefully than he thought he was capable of at the moment. Bucky rewards him with a pretty little half-smile and bright grey eyes gazing at him. 

“Hey there, sweetheart,” Bucky’s tone is warm and soft. 

Fuck. 

There’s that nickname again. 

“Hey, Buck,” Steve whispers back, head ducked a little because now that he’s here, pressed against Bucky, he doesn’t know what to do. 

“What are you thinking about?“ 

Steve shakes his head, eyes roaming down Bucky’s body. “Fuck, I don’t know.” 

“This okay?” Bucky’s arm drops from the back of the couch to Steve’s shoulder. 

“Yeah,” Steve watches as his hand creeps onto Bucky’s thigh. 

“Sure? This doesn’t seem like talking.” 

He’s got a good point. You should listen to him. 

Instead, Steve shrugs. “Don’t feel like talking.” 

Jesus fuck. 

“Rogers.” 

Steve turns so he’s facing Bucky. He shyly meets Bucky’s eyes before slowly reaching his hand out and toying with the hem of Bucky’s t-shirt. 

“Can you… Can I just, um, look at you?” 

Oh fuck, what am I doing?

His cheeks are on fire, and he doesn’t even want to know how red his face is right now. 

Bucky’s gaze is scorching and Steve thinks he can almost see all the filthy scenarios running through Bucky’s mind that Steve just isn’t ready for yet. 

Yet?

Slowly, Bucky shifts and peels his shirt off, revealing all those muscles that have been living in Steve’s memory. 

Now, Steve realizes that he did actually have a plan here. His hope was that seeing Bucky’s body like this, without suds and water dripping down it, would allow his mind to calm the fuck down once it realized that it’s just a normal body.

But even like this, sitting with his muscles relaxed, Bucky is gorgeous. 

Motherfucker.

Steve’s hand is hovering over Bucky’s chest before he can stop it. 

His fingertips are shaky as they find Bucky’s skin. Bucky lets out a breath and Steve lets his fingers press more fully into the meat of his pec. He squeezes just a tad. He can’t help it. Then, he lets his finger run over Bucky’s nipple, satisfaction coursing through him when that has Bucky taking a sharp breath. 

“Thought you weren’t here for this,” Bucky rasps and pauses Steve with a gentle hand. 

“Changed my mind,” Steve grunts, trying to pull his hand free, then stills. “You don’t want to?” 

“Fuck, Rogers, you know I do, but-“ 

“So let me. Please?” 

Am I seriously saying ‘please’ right now? 

“Steve.“

“I want to, Bucky. Promise.”

“Are you su-“ 

“Please,” Steve breathes, cheeks flushing with embarrassment at how fucking desperate he sounds. 

Bucky searches his face, then slowly releases Steve’s hand, nodding. 

Steve nods back, like an idiot, then lets his hand drift down to start working on getting Bucky out of his jeans. 

It was just as good as last time. 

Better because they were able to take their time, no need to rush before someone walked in. 

Steve was still a nervous, anxious wreck and his mind was still reeling, but he was far more confident in his ability to make Bucky come. 

And when Bucky would murmur sweet words to Steve, sometimes Steve actually found himself able to whisper back. 

Nothing hot or arousing like Bucky’s praise, just the occasional “Yeah?… Like that?… Is this good?” 

But Bucky had loved it, moaning and looking at Steve like he was a wonder. The encouragement came rolling in twice as much and Steve was damn near floating with pride. 

Bucky even let Steve play with him a bit. Steve went slow, fingers tracing and exploring. He pumped his fist leisurely, changed the pressure of his grip randomly, took note of every little thing that made Bucky swear under his breath. He even got brave, swiping his finger through the precome beading on Bucky’s tip and watching the string of liquid stretch between his finger and Bucky’s slit before breaking off. 

Steve more than paid for it when it was his turn. Bucky teases like a pro and Steve lost count of how many times he was about to come just for Bucky to ease up and have Steve swearing and begging for more. 

Then Bucky got up and walked down his hall, leaving Steve painfully hard. Steve had, of course, panicked and thought maybe he did something wrong but then Bucky reappeared and tossed a bottle to Steve. 

Lube. 

“That’s your next lesson,” Bucky said as he sat down next to Steve. “Everything’s better when it’s wet.” 

Steve barely lasted another three minutes. 

Classes have really put a damper on Steve’s life. 

There’s less time for the gym. Less time for hanging out with Sam and his other friends. Less time for sex and not-dates with Peggy.

Less time for… experimenting with Bucky. 

Just because there’s less time doesn’t mean Steve doesn’t still do it, he just wishes he had more time. 

For all of it. 

Not just Bucky. 

But he has managed to see Bucky twice more this week, which is more than he was expecting. 

After that night at Bucky’s, Steve had another small breakdown- for lack of a better word- but had very quickly given in to his wandering thoughts that point him back in Bucky’s direction. 

If he ever wants to get over this experimental phase, he’ll have to actually go through it first. 

So he talked to Bucky. 

Over the phone, because he apparently goes more than a little dumb when he’s faced with those pretty steel blue eyes. 

Steve had been as honest as possible, letting Bucky know that he wanted to keep linking up and he was just trying some things out and that he didn’t want to be misleading and he didn’t want Bucky to feel like he was being used. 

Bucky, very frankly, said, “You get to try gay stuff to see what you like, I get to do gay stuff that I know I like. Also, you’re hot. I’m not being entirely selfless here, Rogers.” 

And now, Steve is planning to meet Bucky any time that both of their schedules allow. 

On the evenings that Steve doesn’t spend at home, Sam sort of just assumes that Steve’s out somewhere with Peggy. 

He’s not always wrong, so Steve doesn’t bother coming up with any other lies. 

Now, though, it’s Friday evening and Steve hasn’t seen Bucky since Wednesday morning- an unscheduled run-in at the gym that ended up being a satisfying remix of their first hookup- and he very much has an itch that needs scratching. 

The problem is that if Steve lets Sam believe he’s out with Peggy when he’s really not, he runs the risk of Sam going out and running into Peggy who will be extremely confused when Sam asks where Steve’s at. 

The other problem is that Steve has no idea if Bucky is willing to give up any part of his weekends to him. 

He could just ask. 

He’d rather eat glass. 

So, he doesn’t. And he goes to some party with Sam that he’d rather not be at, instead. 

There’s nothing wrong with the people or the music or the drinks. It’s just that he really, really wants his dick played with and Peggy already had plans. She said she could be at Steve’s in the morning, but the morning is so far away. 

He could find someone else. There’s a couple girls standing by the stairs that have been eyeing him all night. 

They’re cute. 

But their lipstick isn’t red and their eyes aren’t storm clouds. 

Apparently, Steve’s dick is currently requiring that you have one or the other. 

So, he sits on the couch, laughs and talks with the people who pass by. He nurses his beer- the same one he got when he first walked in here. He listens for Sam, making sure he’s still here and that he’s still functioning. 

And then he hears it. 

That deep, soothing voice somewhere behind him. 

He tries not to whip his head around but he has no way of knowing if he was successful. 

Doesn’t much care, either, because when he does turn and his eyes find their target, his next goal is trying not to shiver in public. 

Because there, leaning casually against a wall with a knowing gaze already trained on Steve, is Bucky. 

How long has he been looking at me? 

Has anyone noticed? 

But the circle of people around Bucky all have their attention focused on him and could clearly not care less that Bucky’s full attention isn’t on them. 

No, that is being saved for Steve. 

And it’s fucking electrifying. 

Bucky says something that Steve can’t really make out, which then makes him realize that he only heard Bucky because Bucky wanted to be heard. 

By Steve. 

He wanted Steve’s attention on him. 

Steve doesn’t even care that there are a bunch of caution flags being waved in his mind. 

He just gives Bucky a look that he hopes says ‘Well, you got it. What are you gonna do with it?’. 

It must work, because Bucky has a half-smirk on his face and he excuses himself from his groupies and starts making his way to Steve’s couch. 

Steve’s blood is thrumming with an inexplicable thrill that he knows is due to the secretive nature of his relationship with Bucky. 

Nobody thinks anything is out of the ordinary when Bucky settles beside Steve and daps him up like a typical bro. 

Bucky’s body language is casual enough as he leans in that it looks like two guys catching up and struggling to hear each other over the music. Friends who happened to see each other for the first time after being away for winter break. 

But Steve knows. 

Bucky knows. 

They’re surrounded by people, but it’s just the two of them in on this. 

And that gets Steve really hot. 

So when Bucky leans in and starts speaking in that low, rough voice, Steve is already amped up and his body is already responding to Bucky’s proximity the way it has for the past couple weeks. 

He tries his best to not look like a horny fucking idiot and if he’s blushing, he absolutely is going to blame it on the alcohol. 

“Hey there, Rogers,” Bucky grins. 

“Hey, Buck,” Steve replies, trying to match Bucky’s casual energy.

“What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?” 

Steve gives Bucky an exasperated look. “Don’t waste your lines on me.” 

“Why not?” Bucky’s smile is crooked and Steve wants to draw it. “Already got you hooked?” 

Steve’s mouth actually drops open a little bit in disbelief. 

“Please tell me this is not how you get people in bed,” Steve grimaces to hide his smile. “This absolutely cannot actually work for you.” 

Bucky’s gaze dances across Steve’s face, eyes crinkled at the corners. Then, he looks down at the space between them which is, admittedly, not as wide as it was when Bucky first sat down. 

When the fuck did I scoot closer? 

“No? It’s working on you,” Bucky smirks, but there’s something soft about it. 

“Whatever,” Steve shakes his head, chuckling and inching away again. He surprises himself by being direct when he speaks again. “Did you want to go back to yours?” 

“Presumptuous.” 

Steve just raises an eyebrow. 

“Meet me around the corner in fifteen minutes,” Bucky says after pressing his lips together to control his grin. “Go right when you walk out the front door. There’s a bus stop. Wait there.” 

Steve nods once and accepts the friendly goodbye handshake that Bucky gives him before he’s off making his parting rounds with pretty much everyone in the building. 

He stays in his seat for another few minutes, finishing his beer off and waiting until he thinks it’s been enough time to not be suspicious if anyone was even bothering to watch them. 

He doesn’t waste time by hanging around to say bye to numerous people. He just waves to some and nods at others, only really looking for Sam. 

When he finds him, Sam insists that he’ll go home with Steve and it takes about a minute of murmuring and pointed looks to get Sam to understand that he’s not going home. 

Sam’s expression is chastising, but it’s followed by a sly smirk that has Steve rolling his eyes and shoving his shoulder. 

He knows what Sam is thinking. 

He’ll let him think it. 

It’s disturbingly cold outside, but Steve doesn’t mind it. Not when there’s heat curling low in his gut and slowly spreading through his whole body. 

Less than a minute passes after Steve reaches the bus stop before Bucky’s pulling up in his car, reaching across the seat to push the passenger door open for Steve. 

Their eyes meet for the shortest second, but there’s so much promise there that Steve’s skin is crawling with anticipation. 

The ride is quiet but the air is so charged that he’s, honest-to-God, getting a fucking boner just from sitting this close to Bucky. 

This is worse than “a new low”. 

This is a previously undiscovered depth of desperation, Rogers. 

Get it together. 

But when Bucky looks over at him at red lights, his gaze is so heated and Steve can’t think or do anything other than stare back. 

In his efforts to tear his gaze away, his eyes land on Bucky’s lips and fuck. 

How has he not kissed those lips yet? 

They’re perfect for it. 

Wide and full and pink. Their shape, their curve. The way they curl up at the corners. Everything about them is just… alluring. 

Fuck. 

Get. It. Together. 

They’re still quiet when they get to Bucky’s building. Quiet, still, as they head up the stairs and Bucky’s hand brushes against the small of Steve’s back as he gently guides him to his door. 

Steve feels the tingles from the light touch all the way in his toes. 

It’s not until they’re inside the apartment, lounging side by side on the couch, before Bucky actually speaks. Steve is slouched and his pants are being eased down his legs and Bucky is leaning over him, confidence pouring out of every movement.

“Gotta be honest, Rogers,” Bucky says as he wraps a hand around Steve’s dick. “If you’d told me a week ago that you’d be sneaking out of a party to come home with me, I probably wouldn’t have believed you.” 

Steve wants to make a comment about how he’s not a teenager anymore, so he doesn’t need to sneak anywhere but… that’s kind of exactly what he’s been doing so he keeps his mouth shut. 

“Be careful with that, Stevie,” Bucky continues. Steve pretends he doesn’t like the nickname by scrunching up his face. “Might fuck around and boost a guy’s ego or something.” 

“Maybe I just wanted to see if going home with Bucky Barnes is really worth all the hype.” 

“And? Is it?” 

“Eh,” Steve shrugs nonchalantly, despite the fact they’re both looking down at his leaking tip. 

Bucky’s knowing smirk when he glances up at Steve lets him know that he’s not buying the indifference one bit. Steve smiles back before a determined swipe of Bucky’s thumb leaves him gasping. 

“Hm, I think I do alright,” Bucky murmurs. 

“Yeah. Guess you ain’t too bad,” Steve breathes, then  asks the question that’s been eating at him since they started this mess. “Am I… Do I do okay?” 

Bucky’s hand slows as he turns his head to smile softly down at Steve. “Yeah, Rogers. You make me feel real good.” 

Steve meets Bucky’s gaze, searching for any dishonesty but he only finds sincerity. 

Maybe that’s why he goes and opens his big, stupid, traitorous mouth. 

“I can do more.” 

Bucky’s grin is slow, laced with mischief and promise. “Yeah? You want more?”

Steve gently bites his bottom lip, contemplating. When he sees Bucky watching the movement and looking like he’s ready to pounce, his dick makes it known that there’s not much to contemplate. 

“Yeah,” he whispers. 

“Lay back that way,” Bucky gestures with one hand as he pushes Steve’s side softly with the other. When he has Steve lying down on his back with his head on a pillow by the armrest, he tugs Steve’s pants down his legs a little further, watching his face carefully the whole time. 

Steve can’t decide if it’s better or worse that he’s not entirely sure what Bucky’s plan is, but he doesn’t ask, just controls his breathing and lets Bucky get him situated. 

He watches Bucky pull out one of the little drawers on the table and dig out a bottle of lube. 

“Hoe,” Steve mutters, like his dick didn’t just twitch with want. 

“Slut,” Bucky returns without missing a beat and pulls his own pants down before straddling Steve’s knees. “I’m coming up. That okay?” 

Steve blinks as he tries to process what that even means, but then he realizes that Bucky’s about to settle himself higher up Steve’s legs. 

Like on his lap. 

Skin to skin. 

Dick to dick. 

This is a bad idea. 

“O-okay.” 

“You’re sure?”  

Steve swallows. “Yes.” 

So Bucky slowly shifts his way up Steve’s body. 

“Breathe, sweetheart,” Bucky murmurs and Steve sucks in a breath and lets it out slowly. “Good.” 

Bucky hovers over him when he reaches Steve’s groin, uncapping the lube and drizzling some onto Steve’s- still achingly hard- cock. He sets the lube to the side and starts stroking Steve like normal. 

And it’s good. So good. 

Steve relaxes into it, lets himself feel the familiar waves of pleasure at having Bucky’s skilled hand working him over. He can’t determine whether he wants to screw his eyes shut or keep them open and locked on the hungry expression on Bucky’s face as he watches himself jerk Steve off, so he does both, head tipping back and hips tilting up to get a little more and tipping back when it’s too much. 

He’s moaning and squirming and so lost in it. 

And then Bucky pauses. 

Steve takes a shuddering breath and peels his eyes open to see what Bucky’s doing. 

He will never, ever admit to the soft whimpering noise he makes when he sees Bucky stroking himself, cock gleaming from  a coat of lube. 

It pisses him off a little- or maybe a lot- that Bucky has not only a big dick, but also a pretty one. As pretty as a dick can be, anyway. 

And then his face flushes because why the fuck is he using the word ‘pretty’ to describe a penis? 

Bucky’s eyes linger on Steve’s blush before they jump up to Steve’s eyes. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says, soft and sweet. “Still alright?” 

Steve nods calmly, despite his mind and heart racing. 

When Bucky lowers himself and Steve feels the first brush of a hard dick against his balls, his breath gets caught in his throat and he tenses. Bucky takes this as a bad reaction and goes to lift himself up. 

And that’s what it should be, Steve tells himself. It should be a bad reaction. It should be him coming to his senses. 

But that’s not what it was. 

So he grabs Bucky’s hip and stills him before he can get too far away. 

“No,” Steve asserts. “Don’t- Just- It’s good. You’re good. Keep going. Please.” 

This time, when skin meets skin, Steve drops his grip down to Bucky’s thigh and squeezes because it’s just so much. 

It doesn’t make sense because Bucky’s not even doing much yet. He’s just lining them up, letting Steve get used to the feel of him, and Steve is going fucking crazy. 

If Bucky doesn’t start doing something- anything- in the next few seconds, Steve’s going to start begging and he really doesn’t want to do that, so he uses the grip he has on Bucky’s thigh and tugs firmly so Bucky will get the hint. 

“Yeah? Eager for it, huh?” Bucky chuckles, but it’s breathless. 

“Your dick’s just as hard as mine,” Steve fires back, voice strained and fingers digging into solid muscle. 

Bucky smirks. “I’m so fucking glad we ran into each other tonight.” 

And then he’s grinding down against Steve and Steve can’t even think, let alone come up with some smartass reply. 

He watches as Bucky finds a rhythm, watches as their cocks slide together, a little sticky from the lube. There’s wet noises filling the air from the friction between them and Steve wants this to last all night. 

He’ll be lucky if it lasts another five minutes. 

Bucky’s entire length, balls to tip, is dragging across every inch of Steve’s own length and he’s not letting up, not letting Steve catch his breath or calm himself down. 

Steve is well aware that he’s moaning like a whore, that he’s choking out pleas and breathing Bucky’s name like a prayer. He knows that his fingers might tear through Bucky’s sofa and will probably leave bruises on Bucky’s thigh. 

But Bucky is panting out reassurance, squeezing Steve’s side everytime he hears Steve gasp his name. And then his clean hand is venturing up Steve’s abs and coming to rest on one of his pecs. After another few thrusts, Bucky starts toying at Steve’s nipple and that has Steve cursing, body arching to press as far up into Bucky’s touch as it can manage. 

“Please,” Steve nearly sobs when he can’t take it anymore. “Please, Bucky.” 

It’s not like Bucky isn’t giving him so much more than he thought he’d get tonight. He couldn’t say exactly what he’s even begging for. 

But Bucky gives it to him anyway. 

Gently, he pries Steve’s hand away from the fabric of his sofa. Steve mutters a shy apology, but Bucky just smiles, a little dazed-looking because he’s not unaffected either. Steve is hardly aware of what Bucky’s up to until Bucky carefully places Steve’s hand over both of their dicks. 

“Oh,” he whispers. 

Bucky squeezes his hand and pumps once, a demonstration, before pulling away and leaving Steve on his own. 

Seems simple enough. 

He’s jerked himself off. 

He’s jerked Bucky off. 

It makes sense that it would feel good doing both at the same time.

And it’s efficient, Steve reasons with himself. 

So he adjusts his grip, adds a little pressure and starts pumping. 

Immediately, he has to take a break because holy shit, it should not feel that damn good. 

But it does and he wants to chase it. Wants to give it to Bucky, too. 

He takes a steadying breath and gets back to work, trying his hardest to focus on Bucky and see what angles, what pressure, what twists have his hips jerking the most. He thinks he does a good job of making sure they’re both having a good time, and when he timidly asks if it’s alright, Bucky smiles, wide and bright with his head tipped back a little and his eyes closed, and nods enthusiastically, pinching Steve’s nipple in the process. 

Bucky’s pretty like this. 

He’s breathing heavily and his hair is a little damp at the root from sweat. His muscles are on full display and his bottom lip is a bit red because he keeps biting down on it. When his eyes are open, they’re lust-ridden and heavy-lidded. 

Steve pulls his gaze away to look down at their cocks, both flushed at the tip. They’re both leaking precome, but Bucky’s is about to drip onto Steve’s tip and Steve can’t stop staring, pumps a little harder in hopes that it will make it happen sooner. His mouth drops open when it finally happens, and he knows he’s close to coming.

All he can think about is how another man’s precome is slicking up his own dick and it should give him pause, should at least be a little weird, but instead it has Steve hot and desperate for more. 

Bucky curses under his breath and has to hold himself up with one hand braced by Steve’s shoulder, and he’s hovering over Steve now. 

Steve expects to see Bucky looking down at the same thing Steve was looking at, but when he looks up, Bucky’s eyes are trained on him. 

Once their eyes meet, it’s hard for Steve to look away. 

Their faces aren’t exactly close, but it still wouldn’t be much to pull Bucky down into a kiss. 

His hand almost loses rhythm at the thought, but he tightens his grip and strokes a little faster, pulling a moan out of himself.

When Bucky groans and slumps a little more, he rests his forehead on Steve’s and, again, Steve’s aware that sirens should be going off in his head, but he just squeezes Bucky’s thigh and closes his eyes. He can feel Bucky’s breath puffing against his face. 

Steve wonders if Bucky can feel his breath, wonders if he likes it as much as Steve does. 

It would be so easy to kiss him now. 

Just a gentle hand to guide Bucky down. A slight upwards tip of Steve’s chin. 

Don’t. 

God, but he wants to. 

He wants to feel those lips against his. 

But there’s something about it that feels too… real. 

Maybe it makes no sense, but somehow it feels like all of this can be shrugged away, but a kiss? That feels like it means something. 

So Steve lets go of Bucky’s thigh and pushes against his stomach until Bucky leans up. He keeps his hand on Bucky’s abs, hoping it just looks like he wants a clear view of himself coming- which he does, so it’s not really an act at all. 

He’s not expecting Bucky to swat his hand away from their cocks and take over, but he’s very glad for it because there’s no chance in hell he would be able to keep going through the force of his orgasm. 

It erupts out of him. 

His body is jolting, his back is arching. He’s choking on his own breath. There’s come all the way up to the middle of his sternum. Bucky releases him, but only to his other hand, freeing up his dominant hand to finish himself off. Steve fights like hell to stop his eyes from rolling back or shutting, because damn it, he’s going to watch Bucky come all over his dick. 

He needs to see it. 

A few strokes later, Bucky does just that, and it’s twice as hot as Steve imagined it to be. 

Bucky grunts and then there’s thick ropes of come shooting out over Steve’s tip and his belly. That sight alone was more than satisfactory for Steve’s muddled brain, but Bucky decides to amp things up by swiping a thumb through some of their come and pushing it back onto their pulsing dicks. 

Then, he starts rolling his hips again, rubbing their come-coated cocks against each other and Steve is about to lose his damn mind. 

This motherfucker. 

Steve can’t help but grin as he tries to catch a breath. 

Bucky’s still breathing hard, too, when he looks up at Steve with that Nothing But Trouble face of his. 

“I can go again,” Bucky rasps. He runs his finger through Steve’s messy slit, a challenging glint in his eye when Steve lets out a soft gasp and his dick jerks underneath Bucky’s fingertip. “Wanna switch? Think you can show the teacher what you learned, Rogers?” 

This. 

Mother.

Fucker.

Chapter Text

January has come and gone, and February came storming into its place in the blink of an eye. 

Steve’s a senior, so it’s not like his classes started off easy or anything, but they’re definitely in full swing now and he’s really feeling the weight of them. He played it smart though, and he’s managed to make his credit load a little easier than some of his peers who have all of the worst classes crammed into this last semester. 

Unfortunately, though, it turns out that he’d somehow missed a gen-ed credit so now he’s stuck in some stupid chemistry class because everything else was full and it is killing him to have to dedicate any time to trying to figure out what the fuck is going on. 

He thought that since chemistry used a lot of math, he’d be fine because as a graphic design major, he has a pretty decent grasp on mathematics, but it turns out that chemistry isn’t all math and you actually have to know what the numbers mean and understand the concepts behind them and Steve just, well… doesn’t. 

Luckily, he’s accidentally found an extra support for that. 

It’s been four weeks since The Locker Room Incident, as Steve labels it in his mind and he’s ended up with more than just a recurring hookup from it. 

He’s found himself a tutor and he thinks maybe he might’ve found a friend, too. 

Bucky will actually sit with Steve, abundantly patient and kind, and try to teach a very frustrated Steve the basics of chemistry. 

That’s what they’re doing now, sitting in a relatively quiet corner of the campus’s main library. 

Bucky- the saint- is doing his best to explain a problem to Steve and it’s not his fault, but it’s mostly just making Steve feel guilty and dumb. 

“Does that make any sense?” Bucky’s looking at Steve earnestly, but Steve checked out about three minutes ago when Bucky rolled up his sleeves and exposed his thick forearms. 

It’s still strange to him, the way his mind spirals right into the gutter whenever Bucky’s around, but he’s getting a little more used to it, so he doesn’t freak out. 

He even feels comfortable enough with Bucky to get a little bold. 

“Mhm,” Steve nods, letting his voice dip low. “Thanks, Buck. Hey, why don’t we get out of here? Get some takeout, go to your place…” 

Steve is in the process of gradually closing his notebook when Bucky simply smacks Steve’s hands off of it and flips it back to the page he was supposed to be writing on. 

“Keep it in your pants, Rogers,” Bucky huffs, but Steve can tell he’s trying not to smile. “And pay attention. We’re not leaving until you can explain this back to me.” 

“Ugh,” Steve groans dramatically. “You’re a lot less fun as a tutor than you are as a teacher.” 

Bucky does grin this time, eyes scanning Steve’s textbook for another practice question. 

“Those are kind of the same thing,” he says.

“Not really. Especially not the way you do it,” Steve grumbles, folding his arms on the table and laying his cheek on the crook of an elbow. 

Pouting. 

“C’mon, Steve.” And Steve perks up a little at those hushed words, because that’s Bucky’s seductive voice. “Get this next one right and I’ll let you touch my dick later.” 

Steve rolls his eyes, deflating. “You’ll let me do that, anyway.” 

“Fine. I’ll touch your dick?” 

“You’d do that, anyway, too. If I asked for it.” 

Bucky just shakes his head, smiling softly. It’s the truth, though, and that really does something for Steve. 

It’s a bit of a juxtaposition.

On the one hand, this thing between him and Bucky sends Steve on the best power trips. They’re going at Steve’s pace. Bucky doesn’t do anything until Steve gives him the okay.

On the other hand, Steve has never given himself over to someone the way he’s giving himself over to Bucky. Steve may be giving the greenlights, but it’s Bucky taking the lead, showing the way, walking Steve through everything. 

They still haven’t made it past handjobs and frottage. But Steve has worked up the courage to put Bucky’s hands where he wants them, let Bucky run rough fingers all over his torso, and ask Bucky to pay attention to his nipples when they’re messing around. 

He still hasn’t kissed him. 

It gets harder and harder to not lean in every time they’re close to each other. 

Steve burns with want, feels it right in his chest. 

He wants to give in so badly. 

But he backs out every time he thinks of taking the dive. 

Steve’s still struggling with figuring himself out. He tries to be as honest and as clear with Bucky as he can, but it’s hard when he’s not even sure what he’s thinking. 

Bucky listens, regardless, and does his best to give Steve advice. Which is great and all, but sometimes Bucky’s advice sends Steve’s mind into a bit of a frenzy because he’s stuck between wanting to listen and being afraid of what will happen if he does. 

He’s still not convinced this is anything more than an odd phase, but he also still hasn’t come up with another explanation for this sudden, all-consuming curiosity. Especially when he keeps going back, keeps wanting more. 

A textbook is shoved against his elbow and pulls Steve out of his thoughts. He looks over and sees Bucky pointing to another problem. 

“Work on this for me, okay?” Bucky asks gently. “We can leave when you’re done.” 

Steve sighs but he sits up and starts reading. He knows he should be a lot more grateful and engaged. Bucky’s a senior, too, and his course load is no joke. He has no reason to be here wasting his time with Steve. He looks over at the stack of books on the opposite side of Bucky and his face screws up. 

He has no idea how Bucky is alternating between whatever the fuck complicated mess he’s doing and trying to dumb down basic chemistry for an idiot like Steve, but he’s doing it, working steadily like it’s easy and too laser-focused on his laptop screen to see Steve looking over at his side profile. 

Not for the first time, Steve thinks life would be a lot more simple if Bucky wasn’t so damn gorgeous. 

He sighs again and goes back to his own work. 

Honestly, he thinks he’s doing much better than he would have if he’d tried to work through this problem earlier on his own. When he’s done, he quietly slides his answer over to Bucky and waits for Bucky to finish what he’s doing to check it. 

Bucky’s eyes slide over Steve’s paper and he’s nodding slightly to himself, the tiniest curl in the corner of his lip. 

He’s already buzzing with satisfaction at Bucky’s unspoken approval, sitting up a little straighter and even feeling clever enough to start another problem. 

Then he feels a warm hand settle on his upper thigh and he goes still. 

Bucky- the bastard- is back to reading through his notes, pencil switched over to his left hand and effortlessly picking up where it left off. 

Oh, and he’s ambidextrous. 

Is there anything that Bucky can’t do? Anything Steve can hold onto that might give him a break from Bucky’s seeming perfection? 

He would settle for even a single, microscopic flaw. 

But for now, Bucky’s sitting there, beautiful and perfect and smug, feigning innocence with his hand on Steve’s thigh underneath the table in public. 

Bucky does glance up at Steve, an obvious question in those communicative eyes and he just looks so sweet like this, an open expression and kind gaze that is so clearly checking in and making sure he hasn’t gone too far. 

Steve is definitely freaking out a little, but Bucky’s making those circular motions with his thumb and Steve has really missed that, so he relaxes his body before Bucky decides to pull away and lets the hand stay where it’s at. 

Bucky squeezes lightly, and Steve can’t tell if it was a reward but it certainly felt like one, so he softly knocks his knee against Bucky’s and revels in the small, pleased smile that forms on those pretty lips. 

Then, the hand is creeping up and Steve’s breath is caught in his throat. Fingertips brush just over his zipper, press against what’s quickly becoming one of Steve’s most inappropriate boners and-

“Steve!” 

Steve jumps and takes a sharp, audible breath. Bucky jumps and jerks his hand back, both of their heads snapping up. 

“Oh, sorry,” Peggy says softer as she steps closer, smiling sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to frighten you two.” 

Steve misses a beat, but he blinks himself out of it, and chuckles rather awkwardly as he wills his dick to soften at a faster rate. 

“That’s alright, Miss Carter,” Bucky replies in his smooth, rich drawl and saves Steve from floundering. “I’m just teaching Steve a thing or two.” 

Jesus, Buck. 

If Steve’s face wasn’t red before, it certainly is after that comment. 

“I told you to call me Peggy, Mr. Barnes,” she answers with an unimpressed quirk of a brow, but Steve knows her well enough to know that the pink on her cheeks isn’t makeup. “Like everyone else.”

“I told you that I’m not like everyone else, darling.” Bucky shakes his head admonishingly and Peggy does let one side of her mouth twitch up, cheeks a little darker. 

Darling? 

Steve might be a touch jealous, but Peggy’s not his and he’s been on the receiving end of her big brown eyes and Bucky’s playful smirk so he gets it, and he’s certainly no hypocrite so he won’t hold it against either of them. 

But Steve wasn’t aware that these two even knew each other.

Maybe he should be getting a little defensive that his two… situations might be flirting in front of him but that seems hypocritical and all he can really think about is how good they’d look if they were both in his bed at the same time, and oh. 

That’s new. 

And, hey, that’s something to think about. 

“Bucky’s trying to teach me,” Steve finally recovers, although late on the topic. “I’m contemplating dropping out.” 

“Hey, you’re figuring it out,” Bucky says defensively, sliding Steve’s paper back to him. 

“Only because you’ve explained it to me three times like I’m a five-year old.” 

“Well,” Bucky shrugs, grinning when Steve shoots him a look. 

He looks up at Peggy, who’s now leaning against Steve’s corner of the table, arms folded over her chest and smiling softly down at him. 

She looks good. He can’t help but to let his eyes drink her in. 

She notices, lets her smile get a little bigger. She’s not wearing her red lipstick today, but she’s very cute with her natural pink lips. 

Steve reaches out and brushes her leg gently with his knuckles. “Did you wanna talk to me, Peg?” 

“Just wanted to say hi. I haven’t seen you this week,” she says, unfolding her arms to brace them on the table at either side of her hips. “I almost missed you or something.” 

Huh. 

He guesses he has been very unavailable this week. Between the gym, classes, assignments, his personal art projects, Sam… Bucky…. 

It’s been four days since he’s seen Peggy. 

Not a lot, in general, but pretty unusual for them. 

Steve can feel Bucky’s eyes on him and he shifts uncomfortably. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve tells her, taking her hand that’s closest to him. “What about tomorrow? You have any free time?” 

“I might,” she smiles warmly, thumb rubbing against Steve’s. She pushes herself up, runs her fingers through Steve’s hair. “I’ll let you get back to your work, but I’ll text you. Bye, darling. See you, Bucky.” 

“Bye, Peggy,” Bucky calls after her. 

Steve watches her go, then chances a glance over at Bucky, some weird feeling in his chest and gut. 

“You and Peggy Carter, huh?” 

Steve blushes and looks back in the direction that Peggy went so Bucky doesn’t see it. 

“It’s not like that,” Steve mutters. “It’s- We’re not… There’s nothing, like, official happening between us, if that’s what you thought.” 

“But you want there to be?” 

“No,” Steve pauses. “I don’t know. I mean, she’s great and all…” 

“So, what’s holding you up?” 

“I don’t know,” Steve says quietly. There’s more people trickling in the library and he’s suddenly itching to get out of here. “There’s something there but I mean, it’s obviously not enough to make either of us want to do anything about it. I’m pretty sure she has a thing for her new lab partner, too. And it’s not enough to keep me…” 

Away from you. 

“From seeing other people,” he finishes lamely, ripping the corner of a paper to keep his hands from fidgeting. “Not that I sleep with a lot of people or anything. Just her and, well, uh, what I do with you. I mean, when you and I first started this , there was a couple other girls but I haven’t hooked up with them since and-“ 

“Woah, Steve, slow down,” Bucky interrupts gently. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Just saw sparks, is all. I wasn’t trying to pry.” 

“What about you and Peggy Carter?” Steve abruptly turns to face Bucky, eyes narrowing. 

“Easy, tiger,” Bucky chuckles. “We just know the same people. Trust me, she’s got better taste than someone like me. Besides, I slept with her cousin a few times, so unless they want awkward drama, I don’t think I’ll be a threat to you.” 

Steve thinks Bucky is a threat to anyone who’s in a relationship with or interested in a person that’s attracted to men, but he doesn’t say so. 

“You and Sharon?” He asks instead. 

“What can I say?” Bucky shrugs, then gives Steve a lingering once over. “Got a thing for blondes.” 

It almost seems like magic, the way Bucky’s words affect Steve, completely altering his mood. 

That or Steve’s simply far too horny. 

Regardless, it never fails. 

Bucky says ‘jump.’ 

Steve’s dick says ‘I’ll do a flip, too.’ 

“Hey,” Bucky murmurs and leans a little closer when Steve just sits there, cheeks pink. “Is the offer of takeout and my place still on the table?” 

Steve smiles a little. Can’t help it. 

“Yeah, Buck. Offer stands.” 

“Then, let’s get out of here.” 

Steve has a secret. 

And it’s not the one with ice storm eyes and a ‘Come and get it’ grin. 

But it is about what he wants to do, what he wants to try with his handsome secret. 

What he’s been…  ‘researching’ all week. 

He had a dream several nights ago. 

Bucky was in it. 

Standing over him because Steve was on his knees, looking up at Bucky. At Bucky’s hard dick swaying so close to his face. 

Steve must suck cock pretty well in his dreams, because the images of Bucky, looking down at him with his lips parted and brows furrowed in pleasure, that his mind conjured up were breathtaking. 

It was almost like he could actually hear Bucky’s hushed motivations, feel Bucky’s hand in his hair. 

And Steve doesn’t know why his brain thinks it would know what it feels like to have Bucky’s fist tangled in his hair, but he imagines it’s nice. 

Everything Bucky does feels nice. 

It’s great that he’s going at Steve’s pace, not doing anything that Steve doesn’t explicitly say he’s comfortable with. 

But also, Steve is fucking terrible at saying what he wants. 

So, Bucky’s been going easy on him. Because he thinks Steve wants him to go easy on him. 

Bucky’s not afraid to taunt Steve a bit with his words and not hesitant to tease until Steve is squirming and cursing, but Steve has never done or said anything that invited a little manhandling before. 

But... he wouldn’t mind. 

Obviously, nothing too extreme. He definitely isn’t ready for that, but small things. Steve wouldn’t mind starting with small things. 

He’d like to at least be able to say he knows what it feels like to have Bucky tugging at his hair. 

But it isn’t just that Steve wants Bucky to be more physical or wants his hair pulled. 

That would be too simple. 

The secret is that he wants to make his dream come true. 

Steve also has a plan. 

It’s supposed to be the first major snow of the year this weekend. Stuck indoors, no power, the whole nine yards. 

Sam says that it’s blasphemy that the beginning of February would start off with such bullshit, but Steve knows that they’re extremely lucky to not have had to deal with this type of weather much sooner. 

But Sam’s a southern boy, still getting used to the differences between a Louisiana winter and a New York winter, and he’s chosen to opt out of this particular snowstorm, citing “common fucking sense”, “an aversion to being turned into a fudgesicle”,  and “a brain that actually works, Steve” as his justifications for departure. 

He’d invited Steve with him- he’s just going down to D.C. to stay with a cousin for the weekend- but Steve said he’d hold down the fort. 

Normally, Steve would join Sam on a trip like that. Sam’s family is basically Steve’s family, all but adopting him and his mother but… 

Well. 

Steve has a plan. 

Sam may be flying south, but Steve is hibernating. 

With a certain winter-eyed companion, if all goes accordingly. 

Bucky’s never been inside Steve’s apartment before which Steve feels oddly guilty about. Like constantly invading Bucky’s home is just one more way he’s taking advantage of Bucky.

They haven’t even been doing this for a full month yet but Steve’s been in Bucky’s apartment for a surprising amount of time over the past several weeks, so it feels like the least he can do to ask Bucky if he wants to come over. 

And this weekend is the perfect opportunity. 

To invite Bucky to his place, yes. 

But also, to turn his fantasy into reality. 

Of course, he has to actually ask Bucky first. He hasn’t worked up the nerve for that yet. 

Which is stupid, because he managed to work up the nerve to watch as many blowjob videos and read as many “how to give head” articles as he could possibly manage in the span of a few days, and he better not have wasted all that time just for him to chicken out on his own idea. 

But on Friday morning, a bit before Sam gives him a one-armed hug and says he’ll see him on Monday, Steve types out a message to Bucky and only contemplates for seven minutes before he presses send. 

Bucky doesn’t answer until about twenty minutes after Sam leaves, but his response has Steve grinning from ear to ear. 

Sounds perfect, Steve! Can’t wait.

This was a mistake. 

Steve is a fucking mess, anxiety keeping his chest tight and breaths short. 

Bucky’s not even at Steve’s yet, thank God, but he’s on his way and all of Steve’s confidence and excitement from earlier have gradually turned into nervousness and insecurity. 

Why the fuck would he think he could do this? 

He has never been especially confident where Bucky’s considered, though, to his credit, he has been getting better. 

But better enough to bring Bucky to his place and put his mouth on Bucky’s dick? 

Dreaming big, Rogers. 

Too big. 

He can’t do this. 

It’s not like Bucky knows what Steve has planned. 

Really, it shouldn’t be a problem if he doesn’t follow through. 

But…

He wants to do more with Bucky. So badly that he’s apparently dreaming about it. And Steve might be a bit shy and unsure with Bucky but he’s normally a go-getter. And his first instinct is always to throw himself at whatever he wants. 

So the fact that he’s being such a baby about this is really pissing him off. 

It was his idea. 

And then he’s kind of in a state of shock about himself because why is he so fucking determined to suck a dick? 

To prove a point? 

To himself? 

Ridiculous. 

But before he can go to war with himself any longer, there’s a knock at the door. 

Fuck. 

His eyes dart around the apartment, making sure that the three times he cleaned and dusted each room were adequate enough for a guest’s eyes. 

It’ll have to do. 

He takes a deep breath, nerves still in full effect, and goes to open the door. 

And damn, it still really throws him how goddamn handsome Bucky Barnes is. 

He’s smiling, big and bright and so perfect that Steve kind of can’t stand it. 

“Hey, Rogers,” Bucky says, tone happy and warm. The tip of his nose is a little red from the cold. 

He looks kind of… adorable. 

Steve is so fucked. 

The thing is, sucking dick is only one part of this genius plan that Steve is freaking out over. 

The second part is that they agreed Bucky wouldn’t drive and risk getting his car stuck, so he took the bus. And the snow is already piling up and getting close to resembling a blizzard. So, right there, slung over Bucky’s shoulder, is a bag. 

An overnight bag. 

That should have enough stuff in it for two nights. 

Because part of Steve’s plan is that Bucky stays here. 

In Steve’s apartment. 

With Steve.

All weekend.

Only way to get over the experimental phase is to go through it. 

“Hey, Buck,” Steve all but chokes out. “Come in, get warm.” 

Bucky walks in, not bothering to hide the way he’s checking out the space around him. Steve watches, awkward and dumb, as Bucky sets his bag down by the living room couch. 

“Nice place you got here, Rogers,” he says when he turns back to Steve. 

“Thanks,” Steve says, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s alright. You can, um, sit. There. On the couch. You know, if you want to.” 

Smooth. 

Bucky doesn’t quite manage to hide the smirk tugging at his lips but he does settle on the far seat of the couch, watching Steve like he’s just waiting to see how he’ll embarrass himself next. 

“Right here?” Bucky teases, grin growing when Steve nods dumbly. 

“So, uh,” Steve clears his throat, ignoring the heat spreading on his cheeks. “What would you like to do? Do you need something? I have drinks. Or I could get a snack or fix you something. Or we could watch something. If you want. Or, uh-”

“Steve.” Bucky’s left arm is draped along the back of the couch, thighs spread, and everything about him is practically pulling Steve towards him. “Come here.”

Fuck. 

He probably shouldn’t like that as much as he does. 

But he goes immediately.

At first, he sits off to Bucky’s side, not entirely sure how close Bucky wanted him, but Bucky answers that question by giving Steve a teasing look and a little roll of his eyes. 

Bucky’s fingers trailing down his body shouldn’t settle his nerves the way they do, but Steve is easing into the touch all the same. 

******

Fifteen minutes later, they’re both coming down from the high that Bucky took them to and Steve feels much more relaxed, albeit unsure what he should do now that they’ve both cleaned themselves up. 

Would it be weirder if he scooted away from Bucky or kept sitting this close to him? 

It’s not an issue he typically has to worry about. Normally, after they’re done, he ends up leaving rather quickly. But Bucky’s still here, lounging comfortably on Steve’s couch, and he’s not leaving anytime soon. 

Steve’s hovering on the edge of the cushion, trying to find any excuse to get up from the couch entirely when he hears Bucky chuckle behind him. When he glances back, Bucky’s already watching him, something akin to fondness shining in his eyes. 

“You don’t have to, if you don’t want,” Bucky starts, gaze warm and sincere as always, and holds an arm out to Steve. “But I think we’ve gotten close enough that cuddling is acceptable. Friends cuddle, Rogers.” 

Steve knows that. 

He finds his head resting on Sam’s thigh or Sam’s legs in his lap more times than he can count. 

But Sam’s not Bucky. 

Though, it’s comforting to know that Bucky is starting to see Steve as a friend, too, even if it does scare him a little. 

That doesn’t stop him, though. He scoots closer and tucks himself against Bucky’s side. 

Truthfully, they both might be too big to sit like this. It would work better if they laid down but Steve sure as hell doesn’t have the nerve to suggest it and it’s very comfortable and warm against Bucky’s side, under Bucky’s arm. 

So he’ll stay with his arm resting gently across Bucky’s stomach and cheek pressed to Bucky’s chest. He’s breathing too hard and his heart is racing but he feels good. 

He likes this. 

Bucky’s breathing normally, because he’s not a graceless idiot, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest is doing its best to coax Steve into relaxation. 

“What do you wanna watch?” Bucky asks softly. 

“Anything,” Steve says back, eyes drifting closed. “Whatever you want.” 

Bucky makes a small noise of acknowledgement and a few seconds later, Steve can hear something start to play but he’s too caught up in how good Bucky smells and how warm he feels to bother opening his eyes or turning his head. 

Is it rude to fall asleep on someone so soon after they walk in your door? 

Probably. 

Also, he had a plan, damn it.

Then there’s a big, gentle hand brushing through his hair and careful fingers scratching lightly against his scalp and, well, Steve has been keeping himself busy with cleaning and fighting off a panic attack all day. Plus, that orgasm was pretty intense. So, who can blame him for being tired? 

He hums, sleepy and pleased, and he thinks he murmurs a slurred “feels good” but he’s not entirely sure because he’s already drifting off, snuggling closer to Bucky’s heat. 

Bucky chuckles quietly again and Steve worries that it might be becoming one of his favorite sounds. 

“You can sleep,” Bucky whispers, lips and breath ghosting against the top of Steve’s head. “I’ll wake you up in a bit, Steve. It’s alright.” 

And okay. 

Steve’s plan can wait another hour. 

******

He wakes up to a gentle voice saying his name and gentler fingers brushing through his hair. When he slowly blinks his eyes open, he sees warm grey eyes looking down at him and a soft, pretty smile. 

It’s a nice way to wake up. 

“Hey, Stevie,” Bucky whispers. 

Steve never knew that someone’s eyes could actually twinkle. Sounds like something that only happens in novels but Bucky’s right there, eyes bright and sparkling. 

He feels himself returning Bucky’s smile with a lazy one of his own, humming sleepily before closing his eyes again. 

“Gotta get up, Rogers,” Bucky says, even as he pulls Steve closer. “Wanna make you dinner.” 

Food does sound good. 

This feels better.

“Five more minutes,” Steve mumbles. 

“Don’t give me that,” Bucky laughs and shakes Steve gently. “Come on, sweetheart, let me see those pretty eyes again.” 

Steve can’t stop his smile, even though he knows Bucky will be able to feel it. 

Hell, Bucky can probably feel the heat from Steve’s blush, too. 

The weird thing, though, is that Steve really doesn’t care. Usually, he’d be embarrassed but right now he feels too good to worry about what it means when Bucky has him blushing over something as simple as a meaningless pet name or basic compliment.

This newfound calm and carefree attitude is extremely short-lived, however, because the very next thing Steve’s stupid ass does is turn his head and press a soft kiss right over Bucky’s heart. 

His eyes fly open as soon as his lips make contact with Bucky’s shirt and his body goes rigid. 

What the fuck was that? 

Suddenly wide awake, Steve pushes himself off Bucky and stands up way too quickly, stumbling as he heads towards the kitchen. 

“Right,” he chokes out, making sure he doesn’t look back to see Bucky’s face. “So, uh, food. I have that.” 

“Oh, wow,” he hears Bucky chuckle. “You’re so fucking cute.” 

Steve can’t even respond to that. His mind is spinning and there’s too much heat pooling in his face to focus on anything else. He’s standing in front of his refrigerator now- surely looking like a fucking moron- trying to keep his hands from shaking. 

Say something. Do something. 

Literally anything. 

“Hey.” 

Bucky’s voice comes from right behind him and he jumps when a careful hand lightly grabs his hip. 

“Get out of here, Rogers,” Bucky gently pushes Steve out of the way. “You’re banned from this kitchen, remember?” 

“What?” Steve blinks. 

“Just because the man of the house isn’t here doesn’t mean I’ll let you disrespect him.” 

“What do you- I-“ Steve finally looks at Bucky, amusement and disbelief curling his lips. “What makes you think Sam’s the man of the house?” 

“He feeds you,” Bucky shrugs. “And apparently has the power to ban you from a room.”

“I can feed myself,” Steve grumbles. 

“You say that but you’re not allowed in your own kitchen,” Bucky grins. “Get out of here.” 

“But-“ 

“Steve.” 

Bucky’s tone sounds very much like a parent preparing to count to three when their child is misbehaving. 

“Fine,” Steve huffs. “But I can cook.” 

“Uh huh,” Bucky nods, looking through the refrigerator. “Why don’t you sit on the counter over there and look pretty for me?” 

One day, Steve isn’t going to blush when Bucky so much as breathes in his direction. For now though, he does as Bucky suggests with pink cheeks. 

From his perch, he watches Bucky sift through his cabinets and get stuff together for a quick meal, making small remarks about Sam having good taste as he goes. Steve catches himself smiling softly while he listens and adds small comments to something Bucky said. 

And when Bucky looks at him and flashes that charming smile or passes by and rubs his hand over Steve’s thighs, Steve is reminded of the reason that Bucky’s even here. 

His plan has been put on the back burner but sitting here watching Bucky’s muscles pull at his shirt as he whisks something, Steve finds that he very much still wants to go through with it. 

The question of how remains. 

How do you just… start giving someone head? 

He thinks about all the times he’s gotten his dick sucked and realizes that it typically follows a makeout session. 

Steve is definitely not doing that, so how else can he go about this? 

Should he do it here in the kitchen? Or on the couch? Or is this a bedroom activity? 

What if Bucky says no? 

Steve glances over at a window, squinting to see if he can tell how much snow is on the ground. If Bucky says no, Steve won’t kick him out or anything, but he might make a run for it himself if he can get out the door.

His insecurity has him sliding off the counter and peeking through the blinds just to check. 

Well, fuck. 

The weatherman wasn’t wrong this time. 

The snow has accumulated at a surprising rate, tires of cars already on their way to disappearing. 

“What’s it looking like?” Bucky calls over, piling ingredients into a skillet. 

“Um. Well,” Steve takes a breath then makes his way back to his spot on the counter. “Think you really are stuck here with me.” 

Bucky hums, covering the skillet with a lid and setting a timer before walking over to Steve, only stopping when he’s dangerously close.

“There are worse places to be, you know,” he murmurs, eyes raking over Steve’s body. 

Steve stares back a little wide-eyed.  

Because Bucky’s flirting and giving him that look- the one that leaves Steve breathless and hot. 

Steve surprises himself by tugging Bucky into the vee of his legs. Bucky doesn’t seem shocked though, just makes a small noise and runs his hands up Steve’s thighs to his hips so he can pull Steve all the way against him. 

Fuck, they’re so close. 

He can feel Bucky’s breath on his skin and knows that Bucky can feel his own heavy, uneven breaths too. 

Maybe Steve should kiss Bucky before he sucks his dick. 

It would be so easy right now. 

And he thinks it’s becoming increasingly obvious to both of them that he wants to. 

Especially since he can’t take his eyes off Bucky’s lips. 

But Bucky doesn’t say anything, but when Steve closes his eyes, Bucky leans their foreheads together and Steve has to smile a bit at the touch.

When they lean back, he works up the courage to look at Bucky and he’s struck, once again, by the beauty in those eyes. Like this, Steve is looking down at him a bit so Bucky’s thick lashes are in full effect, perfectly framing that icy blue. 

In truth, Steve probably got hard the second Bucky put his hands on him but he can really feel it now that he’s looking at those sultry eyes, so close and so breathtaking. 

Slowly, Steve unbuttons Bucky’s jeans without breaking eye contact, desperately wanting to feel him. When the zipper’s down and he has a hand massaging Bucky through his briefs, he takes a deep breath.

“Buck, I wanna-“ 

They both jump at the sound of Bucky’s timer ringing, but only Bucky’s chuckling after he gets it turned off. 

“Fuck, sorry,” he says, turning to the stove to switch off the burner. “Forgot about that. Let’s definitely pick up where we left off after we eat.”

The noise Steve makes must sound more whiny than agreeable because Bucky shoots him a teasing smile.

“Got all night, Steve,” he says, plating their meal. “All weekend, too. Hey, what were you about to say when the alarm went off?”

“Oh, uh, nothing,” Steve flushes, hopping down so he can busy himself getting drinks. “Just something horny, probably. What did you make?” 

Bucky laughs at Steve’s answer but lets the subject be switched. 

“Chicken tortellini Alfredo. Quicker and simpler than it sounds.” 

Of course, it’s so good. Steve’s not sure yet if he’d put Bucky on the same level as Sam, but he’s pretty damn close. 

They talk some more over dinner and Steve thinks that if they’d started their friendship out more normally, Bucky would probably be second to Sam on Steve’s friend list, too. While Steve cleans up, Bucky slips to the bathroom to change into loungewear, something Steve regrets encouraging the second he finishes the dishes and steps back into the living room because apparently Bucky’s loungewear is just low-sitting sweatpants and no shirt. 

Well, there technically is a shirt, but Bucky’s just got it slung over a shoulder. 

So Steve can see every single shift and roll of Bucky’s muscles as he moves around. 

Damn. 

He’s starting to suspect that he’s even more attracted to Bucky than he originally thought. 

“Hey, uh, Buck.” Steve winces at his own awkwardness. “I was thinking, um, that maybe- Well, I just thought…” 

“Must’ve been really hard for you.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Steve smiles. “I’m trying to ask you something.” 

“So ask,” Bucky’s voice is softer. “You don’t need to be shy with me.” 

Easier said than done, Buck.

“Right,” Steve nods. “So. Um. I just wanted to know if you’d want to… Do you want to come to my room? I mean, like, do you wanna… share my bed? With me?” 

Bucky’s looking at Steve like he just said the most adorable thing possible. 

“Shut up, Bucky,” Steve groans. “Do you want to or not?” 

“Yeah, Steve,” Bucky grins. “I want to.” 

“Cool. Great. Well. It’s, uh, this way. My bed, I mean. Well, my room, but-” 

“So fucking cute,” Steve hears Bucky whisper. 

He waits for Bucky to gather his things, feeling hot all over, then leads him down to his room, hand shaking as he turns the doorknob. 

This was your idea. 

“You can sit your stuff there,” Steve gestures to the desk he’d cleared off earlier. 

And then he just sort of hovers between his door and his bed, not entirely sure what to do now that he’s made it this far. 

But Bucky isn’t feeling the same hesitance, plopping down onto Steve’s bed like it’s normal for him and scooting back until he’s leaning against the wall. 

When Steve continues shifting in place, eyes roaming around his room like he’s never been here before, Buck sighs dramatically. 

“I thought the deal was that I’d be sharing the bed with you.” 

“Oh. Yeah,” Steve takes a breath. “Just wanted to see if you need anything.” 

“I’m alright,” Bucky says softly. “How about you?” 

“Um, I’m good.” 

Convincing. 

“Always are, sweetheart. Come here.” 

Oh. 

Steve starts towards Bucky and is about to hop on the bed when Bucky holds a hand out to stop him. 

“Wait.” Bucky licks his lip. “Clothes off, first.” 

“Uh- I- All of them?” 

Bucky smiles. “You can leave something on if you want but if you’re asking what I want, then yes. All of them.” 

“Okay,” Steve breathes. 

They don’t do this. 

They never get fully naked together. 

But Steve doesn’t hesitate to strip and is relieved to see Bucky doing the same. 

He’s a lot more shy, though, when he’s standing fully naked and being blatantly looked over. Although, it’s clear Bucky likes what he sees. 

“If I asked you to come sit in my lap,” Bucky starts, voice low. “Would that freak you out?” 

Yes. 

“No.” 

“Rogers.” 

“I want to.” Steve’s fingers graze Bucky’s leg. “I do. Promise.” 

Bucky gives him a look but doesn’t stop Steve when he gets on the bed and crawls right into Bucky’s lap like this is nothing new. 

He may or may not be trembling. His heart might be about to pound out of his chest. His dick is hardening and two seconds from throbbing. He’s definitely flushed from the tips of his ears down to his chest. 

But Bucky’s hands are on his waist and he’s giving Steve a look like Steve is the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

He tries to gain some control over his thoughts, but it’s hard when Bucky’s watching him like this. 

And Bucky looks so good. 

So good.

It’s not fair. 

He can feel Bucky’s dick brushing against his now and it’s taking a lot out of him to ignore it so he can focus on breathing. 

“Steve.” 

He opens his eyes, not sure when he’d closed them in the first place, and meets Bucky’s gaze. 

Bucky doesn’t say anything, though. He just wraps a hand around their cocks, and gives a teasing squeeze before he starts pumping, eyes tracking Steve’s every reaction. 

“Buck,” Steve moans. 

“That’s it, Rogers. It’s just you and me. You can relax, okay?” 

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, body going lax. “You and me.” 

“That’s right, pretty boy,” Bucky murmurs, chuckling when Steve whines. “Let me take the edge off.” 

Steve nods dumbly, already sort of floating from Bucky’s touch. 

He only remembers his plan when he hears Bucky make a soft grunt and starts thinking about how he wants to be the reason Bucky’s making that noise. 

Now or never. 

“Buck,” he moans, then gasps when it makes Bucky go faster. “No, Bucky, wait.” 

The second the word ‘no’ is out his mouth, Bucky’s hand disappears. 

“No, I just-“ Steve pants. “I wanna… try something. Can we, um- Can you lay back against the headboard?” 

“Oh,” Bucky blinks, clearly not sure what to expect. “Yeah, sweetheart. No problem.” 

He climbs off Bucky, swiping the precome off his tip, and lets Bucky reposition and get comfortable. 

“Like this?” Bucky asks, watching him closely. 

He looks sinful laid out like that, propped up by the pillows with one hand behind his head and the other hand around his dick. 

Steve will be drawing that later. 

“Yeah,” he rasps. 

After taking a deep breath, Steve is able to trick himself into thinking he can do this and starts crawling up Bucky’s body on not quite steady limbs.  

“What’re you-“ Bucky’s eyes widen and he cuts off when Steve ducks down to drag the tip of his tongue over one of Bucky’s nipples. “Oh, fuck, Steve.” 

Yeah. 

Steve really likes that. 

So he keeps teasing Bucky’s nipple with his tongue, getting it nice and wet before he starts sucking. 

Bucky’s hand is on the small of Steve’s back now and pressing down lightly, so Steve lowers himself until they’re skin-to-skin. 

Which, ten points to Bucky for the suggestion, because it’s a damn good one. 

There’s something about being able to feel Bucky’s muscles brushing against his skin that really gets Steve hot. And they’re a little staggered right now, so he can feel Bucky’s dick pressing against his abs and he’s a big fan of that, too. 

Bucky is whispering those encouragements that Steve can’t get enough of so he feels bold enough to move on to the other nipple, bringing a hand up to tease at the nipple he’s just left wet and reddened. 

That earns him a deep groan that makes his dick twitch and gentle scratches at the nape of his neck that have him melting further against Bucky. He hums appreciatively, but it turns into a whine when Bucky grinds his cock against Steve’s abs. 

Now or never, Rogers. 

The hand that he’s bracing himself on curls tightly in the covers as Steve tries to work up the nerve to make his move. He’d been feeling brave there for a second, but now that it’s time to actually do something, his thoughts keep getting in his way. 

“Steve,” Bucky breathes when Steve sucks hard on one nipple at the same time he twists the other. 

It’s the closest to pleading that he’s ever heard Bucky get. The rush of pride that comes with it is exactly what Steve needed. 

He starts to lick his way a little lower, sucking whatever skin he comes across and letting his tongue dip in the lines of Bucky’s body. 

Bucky went a little tense at first, surely surprised by Steve’s sudden change in course, but he’s relaxing under Steve’s mouth and cursing softly beneath his breath- something that only fuels Steve’s fire. 

One of Bucky’s hands is resting in Steve’s hair now, and it’s so close to what he wants but it’s not enough. Steve wants Bucky’s fist tangled in the longer hairs on top, wants to feel the pressure from Bucky’s grip, wants Bucky to tug him where he wants him. 

Bucky’s still being cautious, though.  

Which is fair. 

But not what Steve wants. 

And not what Bucky wants either. 

Steve wonders if Bucky even realizes that he can see it in his eyes, feel it in the tension of his body every time they get together. He looks up from sucking a hickey above Bucky’s navel so he can see Bucky’s face. 

Oh, fuck. 

Bucky’s pupils are blown wide, eyes dark and hungry. His lips are parted, chest heaving as he stares down at Steve. 

He looks like he wants to eat Steve alive. 

Right now, Steve would probably let him. 

He’s not sure if there’s a challenge in Bucky’s eyes, but it will be easier to do this if he tells himself there is, so he does his best to return the challenge with his own eyes and it must work because Bucky gives him that cocky ass smirk. 

Steve relishes in the sharp gasp above him when he sinks his teeth into Bucky’s skin. 

Only for a millisecond, though, because then he gets what he wished for and his head is jerked up by a strong fist in his hair. 

Oh, hell yes. 

“What do you think you’re doing, Rogers?” Bucky’s voice is rough. 

Oh, hell yes. 

“Wanna suck your dick.” 

Oh. Wow. Not shy now, huh? 

He’s blushing again as he looks up at Bucky, who has loosened his grip and is gaping at him, but he powers through and keeps the eye contact. 

“Now, Steve, hold on-“ 

“No.” Steve interrupts, trying not to pout. “Buck, no. You said my pace, right? Whatever I want. Right?” 

“Rogers-“ 

“Yes or no.” 

Bucky sighs. “Yes, but-“ 

“Uh uh.” Steve dips his head back down to gently nip at the same spot, smiling when Bucky tightens his fist in his hair again. “I wanna try. Don’t you want me to try?” 

“You dick, you know that’s not a fair question.” 

“We want the same thing,” Steve tries to reason. “Let me give it to you.” 

Bucky still looks skeptical and Steve is starting to feel embarrassment and panic bubbling up. 

“Please, Buck?” 

He isn’t expecting the small smile he gets from that but it seems promising, so he’ll take it. 

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Bucky asks fondly, his smile widening as he brings his free hand up to trace Steve’s lips. 

“Teach me,” Steve murmurs.

Steve’s really not expecting Bucky to slip a finger into his mouth but he goes with it in case it’s a test. Despite every fiber of his being begging him to close his eyes, Steve makes sure to keep eye contact as he starts sucking Bucky’s finger. 

With his mouth occupied, he can’t persuade Bucky with words so he puts all his effort into pleading with his eyes. 

“Shit, Rogers,” Bucky licks his lips, gaze glued to Steve’s mouth. “You want it that bad?” 

Steve won’t say he whines, but that’s only for his dignity. Nodding, he sucks a little harder and lets one of his hands trail its way to Bucky’s dick. He strokes it slowly, running his thumb through the precome he feels on the tip and moaning softly around Bucky’s finger. 

It’s right when Steve starts realizing that he’s kind of enjoying sucking Bucky’s finger that Bucky slips it back out of his mouth. He’s about to complain, but then Bucky grabs him by the chin and levels him with a serious look. 

“Might not seem like a big deal, but this is not a small decision, Steve. Have you really thought about it?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

He mostly means to be teasing, but his tone is too sincere and then there’s that fire behind Bucky’s eyes again when Steve says ‘sir’. 

Not for the first time, Steve wonders how much pleasure comes with its burn. 

Bucky slackens his grip and, immediately, Steve scoots lower so all he has to do to get his mouth on Bucky is duck his head. He’s not sure when his anxiety was fully replaced by eagerness but he figures it must have been when Bucky pulled his hair and made him realize how close he was to living his fantasy. 

Although, Steve was on his knees in his dream and there’s definitely something intriguing about having Bucky tower over him but this way will be more comfortable and maybe that will help him out in the long run. 

Because Bucky’s right. Steve really doesn’t know what he’s doing. 

Sure, he watched those videos and read those articles but it’s not like he practiced. 

Now, looking down at Bucky’s dick, he’s painfully aware of that fact but he’s optimistic that since he’s been on the receiving end enough times, giving will be relatively simple to figure out. 

Except… he might have forgotten to consider how big Bucky’s dick is. 

“Still wanna do this?” 

Oh, God. Did I say that out loud? 

“Hm?” 

“Do you still want to do this? You look like you’re lost in thought. Reconsidering.” 

“No, I want to do it,” Steve says firmly and maybe a tad defensively. “Just nervous. I can be nervous.” 

“Yeah, Rogers, you can,” Bucky combs his fingers through Steve’s hair. “Go slow. Okay?” 

“Okay,” Steve whispers. 

He doesn’t start instantly like he wants to. He figures that would be a good way to make a fool of himself. The longer he watches himself stroke Bucky, though, the more he can feel the fluttering of nerves in his stomach so he decides that he needs to get things going. 

The first slow drag of his tongue up Bucky’s length leaves Steve stunned. 

He’s not sure what he was expecting but it definitely wasn’t that he’d like the feel of Bucky’s cock, warm and smooth, on his tongue. The taste was something he’d been hesitant about but it just tastes like skin- clean with the slightest hint of saltiness.

It has him curious and wanting more, so he laps at Bucky a couple times, pumping him slowly between each pass of his tongue. 

Above him, Bucky is breathing heavily. Steve heard him curse softly but he still hasn’t told Steve what to do yet. 

He’s choosing to take that as a good thing. 

Emboldened- but mostly determined to not make himself look stupid- he takes things a step farther and runs the tip of his tongue through Bucky’s slit. His heart is pounding and he’s not sure if he loves the taste of precome, but he certainly doesn’t mind it so he does it one more time with more pressure. 

It gets a small shudder from Bucky and Steve definitely likes that. 

He watches as another bead of liquid forms on Bucky’s tip and before he can give himself enough time to think about it, he’s got his mouth wrapped around the head of Bucky’s cock, eyes drifting closed as he sucks gently and swirls his tongue like the articles said to do. 

Bucky moans quietly above him, fingers sweeping through Steve’s hair again. 

“Oh, shit,” Bucky breathes. “That’s good, sweetheart.”

The words ease the tension from Steve’s body and have him sinking down another inch. It’s not as hard to keep his teeth out of the way as he thought it would be, but even though he’s not overly concerned yet, he can already tell that Bucky won’t be fully fitting in his mouth. 

But… Well, he’s not hating this.

There’s something frighteningly soothing about the weight of Bucky’s cock against his tongue. 

Bucky starts squirming and flexing a hand in Steve’s hair and he knows it’s because Bucky is trying his hardest to stop himself from pushing Steve to take him deeper. 

He can feel anxiety creeping through his veins but he fights through it, inching his mouth down Bucky’s cock until the first hint of resistance before he pulls back up. 

“There you go, Steve,” Bucky’s relief is evident in the breathiness of his voice. “Just like that.” 

So Steve repeats the motion, eyes still closed and stubbornly trying to dismiss the way his own dick is begging for attention again. 

The small wave of confidence that Steve has been riding on so far crashes the second he attempts to start bobbing his head up and down. 

He doesn’t gag- thank fuck- but he does jolt when he slips too far down Bucky’s shaft. 

“Easy, sweetheart,” Bucky murmurs, both hands in Steve’s hair now. “Don’t rush.”

Embarrassed, Steve pulls off to catch his breath and attempt to recall every single tip the articles listed. In the meantime, he goes back to jerking Bucky off because he knows how to do that and Bucky at least deserves to enjoy some part of this. 

His eyes are open now, but he’s very pointedly keeping them fixed on Bucky’s dick. 

He knows he’s blushing. 

But only because that’s become his default around Bucky. He only notices that he’s blushing when one of the hands in his hair slips down and he feels a thumb lightly running across his cheek. 

“You’re alright, Steve,” Bucky says. “You’re doing good. Wanna try again?” 

Cheeks should not be allowed to get this hot. 

He doesn’t trust that his voice will come out even, so he nods. 

“Okay,” and Steve can hear that tiny smile in Bucky’s voice. “Let me help you out a little this time. Sounds good?” 

Steve nods again, swallowing hard. When Bucky’s hand disappears from the side of his face, he instantly misses it. 

But then, Bucky’s taking himself in hand and angling his cock towards Steve’s mouth and Steve’s mind goes blank. He can feel his mouth dropping open, both in preparation and surprised lust, and there’s definitely a whimper that slips out. 

“Tongue out.” 

Wait, what? 

Suddenly, Bucky’s other hand grips  Steve’s chin, thumb pressing down on Steve’s tongue. 

“Look at me.” 

Steve has no choice but to look up when he hears that fucking tone that’s going to be the death of him. Bucky’s eyes are sharp as they dance around, studying Steve’s face. 

“Do you trust me?” Bucky asks, thumb easing up. 

It’s a question that Steve isn’t expecting but has had a clear answer for since day one. 

He wants to say yes, wants Bucky to hear how much he means it. But Bucky’s thumb is still resting on Steve’s tongue, so he gently closes his lips around it and nods. 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Bucky slips his thumb out of Steve’s mouth, hand sliding to cup the nape of Steve’s neck. “You ready?” 

“Yeah,” Steve rasps after clearing his throat. 

“Tongue out,” Bucky repeats, smirking a little when Steve quickly follows the order. 

Bucky guides his cock to Steve’s mouth, resting the tip on Steve’s tongue. 

Steve has to close his eyes now. He can’t bring himself to look up at Bucky like this quite yet. There’s a good chance he might pass out from the intensity of his blush. 

Still, he can’t stop himself from massaging the underside of Bucky’s tip with his tongue. There’s a breathy sigh above him and the spark of arousal he feels is so strong, he finds himself squeezing Bucky’s hip hard enough that he’s worried he might actually hurt him. 

Bucky doesn’t seem to mind, though. In fact, his only response is to tangle his hand in Steve’s hair again. 

Which makes Steve moan because of course it does. 

Pull it together, Rogers. 

“Feels nice, sweetheart,” Bucky whispers. “But stay still for a second, okay?” 

Oh. Okay. 

None of the articles mentioned not moving. 

Steve doesn’t understand until Bucky starts canting his hips up, dragging his cock along Steve’s tongue. 

Using. That’s what he’s doing. He’s using my mouth. 

Holy shit. 

Steve can taste some more of Bucky’s precome and can feel his own dick leaking. He opens his mouth a little wider so Bucky can get a couple more inches in. 

“Good, Steve,” Bucky breathes. “That’s good.” 

Steve still doesn’t understand why he likes hearing Bucky’s praise and encouragement so damn much. All he knows is it freaks him out more the longer he thinks about it, so he chooses not to dwell on finding an answer. 

Bucky stops with a bit more than just the tip in Steve’s mouth, and Steve instantly starts sucking.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Bucky pants after a moment. “I’m gonna set a pace for you. You let me know if you wanna stop, okay?” 

Steve hums around Bucky’s dick, which quickly turns into a moan when it makes Bucky curse. Fingers flex in his hair and then there’s the slightest pressure at the back of his head, encouraging him to sink further down. 

His heart is racing, his blood is pounding, and Bucky has to remind him to keep breathing through his nose, but he meant it when he said he trusts Bucky. 

Always has. 

Bucky would never push Steve past his limit. Even when he’s not sure where the limit is even at. Proving the point, he’s pulled back up before it gets to be more than he can handle, fully controlled by Bucky’s steady hand. 

He feels like he needs to ask if he’s even sucking right, but Bucky’s moving Steve how he wants him and he’s not saying anything between his heavy breaths, so it must feel good enough. 

He’s not sure how long they keep going like that.

Long enough that Steve gets a little lost in it, has to start rolling his hips as discreetly as possible to get some friction on his aching dick. 

Long enough that his jaw is starting to protest. 

Long enough that Bucky must feel like Steve can keep the rhythm on his own, because he loosens his hold on Steve’s hair and after a couple more bobs, tries to let go entirely. 

Steve doesn’t let him get far, though, whining and tilting his head back up into Bucky’s palm and groaning when those big fingers curl in his hair again. 

“Oh yeah, Stevie?” There’s definitely a smug smirk on Bucky’s face right now. Steve knows it. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you, baby?” 

Good boy? 

Baby?

It shocks Steve so much that his eyes fly open, immediately finding Bucky’s gaze. 

That… was hot as fuck. 

Why was that hot as fuck?

He probably moaned. Or whined. 

He can’t say for sure because he can’t focus on much besides the scorching look in Bucky’s eyes. 

“Oh, fuck, Steve,” Bucky murmurs, free hand coming up to cup Steve’s face. “Keep looking at me, sweetheart. Look so fucking good like that, Rogers. Jesus. Get it wet, baby, I’m getting close.” 

Jesus. 

He doesn’t know how he’ll ever look Bucky in the eye after this. 

But he lets Bucky pull him off so he can gather spit in his mouth and fights his trembling hand to take hold of Bucky’s cock again. 

It is, to put it lightly, extremely mortifying to spit on someone’s dick while maintaining eye contact, then stroking them while using your own saliva as lube. 

He makes a mental note to buy flowers for any girl who gives him sloppy head in the future. 

Bucky clearly approves, however, moaning as his cock throbs in Steve’s hand. 

“Fuck, that’s perfect, Steve,” Bucky says softly, guiding Steve back down to his cock. “Can you keep your eyes open for me? Or is it too much?” 

Distantly, Steve is annoyed that Bucky can have the presence of mind to still be so coherent and controlled. 

Because Steve definitely could not string together a sentence any longer than two words right now. 

In lieu of embarrassing himself further by attempting to stammer a response, Steve slips his mouth back on Bucky’s cock, gaze stuck on winter blue eyes as he lets more spit spill out of his mouth and drip down Bucky’s length. 

“Oh, that’s pretty, Stevie.” 

God damn. 

Every word out of Bucky’s mouth zips straight down to Steve’s dick. 

And the sounds. 

His mouth had been making wet noises against Bucky’s shaft before too, but now that it’s soaking, the sounds from the suction and slide of Steve’s lips are filthy.  

Steve finds himself still grinding against the mattress, dick rock-hard and probably leaving a puddle on the covers. 

He has a weird urge to try to take Bucky deeper but he can feel Bucky pulsing in his mouth now- which wow, that’s… wow - and he doesn't want to ruin Bucky’s pleasure, or humiliate himself any more than he already has. 

What he can do, he realizes, is use his hand to cover the remaining length that his mouth can’t reach yet. 

“That’s it, Steve,” Bucky rasps when Steve has a fist loosely wrapped around the base of his cock. “Give me a little more pressure, just- Yeah, like that, sweetheart. Go at the same- fuck- Same pace as your mouth. Yeah. Fuck, that’s good, Steve. Shit.” 

Steve lets his eyes flutter closed because fuck.

He cannot handle those words and those eyes at the same damn time. 

When his jaw feels like it’s about to lock, Steve does manage to get his brain to function enough to remember some more tips from the internet. With that in mind, he pushes his head against Bucky’s hand- which gives immediately- and pops off Bucky’s cock to start mouthing at his balls instead, but keeps working him with his hand.

“Good boy,” Bucky murmurs so quietly that Steve hardly hears it. 

It sounds even better the second time. Soft and sincere. 

Between that, Bucky’s moans and heavy panting, the fingers pulling at his hair, Bucky’s silky skin against his tongue, the pulse of Bucky’s cock, the drag of his own dick against the covers…

It’s so much. 

He has to sneak a hand down to squeeze himself and try to hold his orgasm off, but his own hand betrays him and somehow ends up stroking instead. 

Steve switches his mouth back to Bucky’s dick, hoping it can be a distraction again but he’s too close to the edge and-

“I’m gonna come,” Bucky warns, voice rough and head dropped back. “How do you want it?” 

Even with Bucky’s hand still gently guiding him, Steve’s rhythm falters. 

How do I want it? 

He hadn’t even thought about that. 

Does he want Bucky to come in his mouth? 

And if he does, should he spit or swallow? 

He feels like swallowing would give him the most complete experience, but that’s the very reason that makes him hesitant to try it. 

He’s not a bitch, though, and he figures the worst that can happen is he hates the taste or texture. Bucky doesn’t seem the type to get upset over that. 

“Rogers.” Bucky’s voice is strained as he tugs on Steve’s hair, trying to get his attention. 

Steve is feeling, oddly enough, too shy to get his mouth off Bucky’s dick long enough to reply so he squeezes Bucky’s hip until Bucky looks down at him. 

Shifting until he has more leverage, Steve starts bobbing his head a little faster, his hand pumping in tandem. He blinks up at Bucky and hopes like hell Bucky won’t make him say it out loud. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Bucky lifts his fingers to Steve’s cheek and lets his fingertips dip into the soft skin there, feeling himself in Steve’s mouth. “Okay. Yeah. That’s- fuck.” 

The hand Steve had on his dick paused at some point but he’s still on the brink of orgasm when he starts moving it again. 

He can tell when Bucky’s about to come. His dick throbs a little harder in Steve’s mouth, his grip in Steve’s hair is at its tightest and stinging his scalp in the best way, his thighs and abs are tensing up, his mouth is dropped open a bit and he’s quieter now, breath caught. 

Yet, somehow, Steve comes first. 

He does it as sneakily as he can, eyes drifting closed. There’s no stopping the way his whole body tenses and no hiding the moan that escapes his throat and vibrates around Bucky’s cock, though.

But he thinks the shiver that travels down his spine could be masked by the fact that Bucky’s shooting into his mouth, completely coating his tongue. 

Bucky’s come is milkier than Steve realized, something he's very thankful for. The taste isn’t bad at all. Honestly, there’s not much to it. A touch bitter, maybe a hint of salt. It’s warm and feels almost good sliding down his throat. 

He’s still bobbing his head, slow now, and he tries to get all of the come swallowed before it can slip past his lips but he feels some creep out anyway, sliding down his chin. 

Pride and anxiety are battling each other in Steve’s chest and he has no idea what to do or say, so he keeps his eyes closed and also keeps Bucky in his mouth, suckling on the tip because it eases the nervous twist in his gut. 

It’s only when Bucky finally pulls Steve off by his hair that he stops. 

“Damn,” Bucky chuckles, still breathless as he combs his fingers through Steve’s hair. “Really good for your first time, sweetheart. Really good. Got the perfect lips for this, you know that?” 

Steve doesn’t say anything, just tips his head into Bucky’s touch. 

“Steve?” Bucky’s other hand is cupping his jaw now, thumb stroking his cheekbone. “You okay?” 

Steve nods again but, truthfully, he thinks he might cry. 

He’s not sure why. It’s not like this wasn’t what he’d been expecting from tonight. 

He wanted this. 

He planned this. 

“Let me see those eyes,” Bucky says warmly, wiping the remaining trails of spit and come from Steve’s chin. “Please, Steve?” 

Steve shakes his head, fully aware that it’s juvenile, but if he looks at Bucky, tears will be shed. So, he simply scoots up until he can rest his head on Bucky’s stomach and tuck his arms under Bucky’s back. 

“Oh.” The surprise is clear in Bucky’s voice but two strong arms wrap around Steve immediately, one hand scratching lightly at the nape of his neck and the other rubbing soothingly between his shoulder blades. 

Bucky goes quiet then, and Steve’s grateful for that but at the same time, he wants to hear Bucky’s reassurance. He thinks he’s fought off the most threatening of his tears, but the panicky anxiety lingers. 

“Steve,” Bucky tries again a few minutes later, voice careful. “You’re still shaking, sweetheart. I’m worried. Can you talk to me?” 

Steve hadn’t been aware he was shaking but Bucky’s right. He’s definitely trembling. 

How fucking embarrassing. 

“I’m okay,” but even Steve’s voice is uneven. 

“Oh, yeah?” Bucky asks softly. “I don’t believe you.” 

For some reason, that makes Steve huff in amusement. 

“Hey, Buck?” Steve whispers. 

“Yeah, Steve?” 

“Can you just… talk to me? About anything. Doesn’t matter. I just, um… can you just talk?” 

“Of course, sweetheart,” Bucky doesn’t even miss a beat before he starts rambling. 

He talks about the snow and how he’d build forts and have snowball fights with his sister when they were younger. He talks about how he misses her like hell, wishes she lived closer, never stops worrying whether she’s safe or not. 

He mentions how he got into cooking because he’d had to do it some nights for her when their mom worked late. It’s the only time he mentions either parent, and Steve wonders but he doesn’t ask.

He tells Steve not to laugh before detailing the time he locked himself out of his apartment the first week he moved in and got caught trying to pick his lock by a neighbor who promptly called police. They showed up after he successfully broke into his own place but the landlord showed up at the same time and was able to talk them out of putting Bucky in handcuffs and taking him to the station. Steve doesn’t laugh, but Bucky pinches his neck when he feels Steve’s grin against his stomach. 

A couple more minutes of listening to Bucky cover random topics, Steve is adding comments and asking questions. 

A few more stories in, he’s got his arms folded over Bucky’s stomach and his head resting in the crook of one elbow, tilted up so he can watch as Bucky alternates between staring thoughtfully at the opposite wall and smiling down at Steve. 

Steve is only minimally aware of the way he’s inching up Bucky’s body, but he doesn’t care. He wants to be close right now. 

Especially when Bucky hesitates mid-story and Steve realizes from the crease between his brows and the frown on his lips that it’s because he’s having a hard time remembering. 

Bucky smiles fondly when Steve crawls the rest of his way up and plasters himself to Bucky’s side, propped up on his elbow with Bucky’s bicep trapped under his armpit. He doesn’t complain, just adjusts until he can get that arm wrapped around Steve to settle his hand on Steve’s waist, holding him close. Steve’s free hand is resting delicately over Bucky’s pec and he can feel the gentle thuds of Bucky’s heart. 

It’s wild to Steve how comfortable he is around Bucky, especially considering the way his mind and body react whenever anything remotely sexual happens. He hasn’t forgotten how they ended up where they’re at now, but Bucky has a way of calming Steve down, distracting his mind until he can get it to start being reasonable. 

Like right now, he’s laying completely nude with a guy he’s only really known for about a month, talking about random things like Steve didn’t almost have a panic attack over sucking a dick ten minutes ago.

Now, Bucky’s talking about school and Steve can feel himself smiling like an idiot. 

It’s just that Bucky’s such a nerd and Steve has spent so long trying to deny that he finds it adorable, but it really is the cutest fucking thing. 

He gets so passionate about subjects that everyone else dreads. And now he’s talking about the masters program he’ll be attending in the fall and his excitement is evident and it’s all so precious and pure. 

His smile is blinding and his eyes are captivating as they gaze up at Steve. 

He’s so beautiful. 

It’s so distracting. 

Steve can’t stop himself from staring, taking in every inch of Bucky’s handsome features. It would be hard to replicate natural beauty like that with a pencil, but damn if Steve isn’t going to try. 

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when Bucky shifts back up against the pillows, putting their faces almost level with each other. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Bucky teases. 

“Nah, I’m good,” Steve gives a slight shake of his head, eyes still searching Bucky’s face. “Might draw you, though.” 

Bucky’s face lights up and that smile is truly something. “You draw?” 

Steve hums a confirmation, returning Bucky’s smile with a small one of his own. 

The pretty smile on Bucky’s lips wavers, just slightly and only for the quickest second, but enough for Steve to notice. 

“Not so sure I’m worth drawing.”

It happens before he even realizes he’s doing it, but Steve finds that his fingertips are tracing Bucky’s features. They pause when they reach soft lips, outlining those twice just because they can. 

Just because Steve loves the shape of them. 

He’s already nodding when he looks back up into storm grey eyes. 

“You are.”

He doesn’t mean to whisper it, but the words float softly between them. Bucky’s giving him that sweet, fond look of his and Steve feels his heart start to pound again. 

Now or never, his brain reminds him. 

He glances down at Bucky’s lips, still as pretty and enticing as ever. When he looks back into Bucky’s eyes, Bucky brushes his lips softly against Steve’s lingering fingers. 

It’s permission and encouragement wrapped into one. 

Now or never. 

This would be so much easier if Bucky would make the first move. But Steve knows he won’t do that, knows that this is something he has to initiate himself. 

Just a kiss. 

It’s supposed to be the simplest thing to do with somebody. The first step. The prerequisite for everything else they’ve done so far. 

And Steve has dodged it numerous times now. 

It’s not a big deal. He’s kissed a lot of people. 

Sure, Bucky would be the only guy but in all honesty, Bucky’s lips look just as kissable as a girl’s. 

More so, even. 

But he’s still incredibly nervous. 

And the worst part is he’s not so sure the fact that Bucky’s a guy is the only thing making him feel that way. 

Bucky watches him contemplate and Steve can see the second that Bucky decides Steve must not be ready after all. 

Steve hates that. 

Hates that he keeps doing this to Bucky, who has done nothing to deserve Steve’s hesitance.

Hates that he can’t bring himself to go through with it. 

Hates the way Bucky moves to back off and give Steve some space. 

“Buck,” Steve breathes, stopping him. “I don’t- I…”

“It’s alright, Steve. You don’t have to-“ 

“Buck,” Steve interrupts. “Kiss me.” 

Bucky pauses, eyes searching Steve’s. He doesn’t hesitate long, barely a second, but it’s enough that Steve suddenly can’t take it anymore. 

“Please,” he whispers, desperate. 

When Bucky leans in, Steve surprises himself by meeting him halfway. 

He’s heard of fireworks and butterflies for the first kiss. 

He’s not convinced that either of those are good enough to describe this. 

The first touch of their lips is so gentle and it sends a wave of warmth throughout his body. Bucky gives Steve a second to decide if he’s going to run, but when Steve only leans further into his space, Bucky kisses him again. 

This one is firmer and lasts longer and it sends a shiver down Steve’s spine. 

Bucky tries to pull back again, but Steve chases him and kisses him harder, making a soft noise when Bucky reciprocates. He can feel himself sagging against Bucky, sighing with relief. Bucky’s hand comes up to cup Steve’s face and that has Steve humming against his lips appreciatively.

This time, Steve lets Bucky pull back, but only because he was not expecting to have his breath stolen like this and he needs a second to get it back. 

Dazed, he blinks his eyes open to find Bucky already looking at him with a small smile. Bucky’s thumb sweeps gently over Steve’s lips and his smile gets bigger when Steve lightly kisses it. 

Bucky leans back in after a second, giving Steve small kisses and brushing their mouths together until Steve gets the hint and parts his lips. 

It’s slow and electrifying, the way their lips move against each other. It’s no surprise that Bucky’s an amazing kisser- Steve’s known that would be true since the first time the idea crossed his mind- but Steve didn’t quite expect him to be this good.  

They’ve barely even gotten started and Steve is already breathless and hard. 

He could do this all day. All night. All weekend.

Bucky runs the tip of his tongue along Steve’s bottom lip and Steve doesn’t even try to suppress the moan it causes. He can feel Bucky smiling against his lips and decides he likes that a lot too. 

It’s Bucky’s turn to moan when Steve slips his tongue in Bucky’s mouth. The joke is actually on Steve, though, because then Bucky works his own tongue past Steve’s lips and brushes it against the roof of Steve’s mouth, making him gasp and shudder. 

Once they get going, it’s so hard to stop. Bucky’s mouth is addicting and he knows exactly how to keep Steve on his toes, switching between sweet and filthy at the drop of a dime. 

He can be a tease, too, pulling just out of reach when Steve tries to kiss him and forcing Steve to give chase. He makes up for it by kissing the pout off Steve’s mouth every time but Steve eventually climbs on top of him to keep him in place just in case he tries to do it again. 

They nip at each other’s lips playfully, then not so playfully when Steve discovers that Bucky really likes his bottom lip pulled. 

Steve has always loved kissing, but it’s been a while since he’s kissed someone and had this much fun and felt this turned on at the same time. They’re smiling and laughing softly, sometimes too much to actually label it a kiss but it feels nice either way. 

“What do you think, Rogers?” Bucky asks when they pause to catch their breath, keeping Steve held back by a gentle hand cupping his jaw. 

“I think you should kiss me again,” Steve mutters impatiently. 

Bucky chuckles, but his lips are back against Steve’s almost instantly. 

Soft and sweet.

But they can’t ignore their bodies’ response to each other for too long. Steve knows he’s leaking onto Bucky and he can feel Bucky’s erection moving against his. 

As much as Steve is loving kissing Bucky, his mind can’t help but drift back to earlier. 

The memory of Bucky’s fist in his hair, the way Bucky was looking down at him, the way his mind cleared when he was sucking on Bucky’s tip. 

Steve would only cut this makeout session short for one reason. 

“Let me make you feel good, Steve,” Bucky murmurs against his lips. 

He shakes his head. 

“Not yet,” he trails kisses along Bucky’s jaw. The gentle scrape of Bucky’s stubble shouldn’t feel good, but Steve kind of likes it. “I wanna try again.” 

“But-“ 

“Wanna taste you again, Buck,” Steve whispers by Bucky’s ear, grinning at the way Bucky shivers. 

“Fuck, Steve,” Bucky groans. 

“I’ll be better this time,” Steve is already working his way down Bucky’s body, leaving a path of kisses as he goes. “Please?” 

“Yeah, baby,” Bucky sighs as Steve kisses the tip of his dick. “But it’s my turn next. Deal?” 

Steve grins, dragging his tongue from Bucky’s base to his tip. 

“Deal.” 

Chapter Text

Steve wakes up slowly, body and mind not quite ready to leave the peaceful warmth of a deep sleep. 

When he does finally manage to peel his eyes open, he finds himself staring at his wall, nearly pressed against it- unusual because he should be close to the nightstand where his phone normally sits. 

Yawning, it suddenly hits him why he’s literally waking up on the wrong side of the bed. 

Last night was… 

He can’t settle on a particular word to describe it. 

It was a lot.

Scary, fun, confusing, eventful, weird, good. 

All those things and more. 

Steve’s second go at giving head went more smoothly than his first. Turns out, it’s easier when you’re not so unsure of yourself. Knowing what tempo Bucky likes and how to move his tongue to get Bucky groaning allowed him more confidence and Steve was a bit thrown by how much of a difference that makes.

Not like he’s a pro now, or anything, but he thinks it’s something he could be pretty good at if he chose to keep doing it. 

Bucky, though. 

Bucky deserves flowers, gold medals, trophies, plaques, a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, anything his heart desires for the way he sucks dick. 

Steve knew he wasn’t going to last long the second Bucky’s lips were on him, but he cuts himself some slack because he doesn’t think anyone could ever truly be prepared for Bucky Barnes. 

Bucky sank all the way down Steve’s length, nose to pubic hair, like it was nothing. Steve remembers his own needy, high-pitched whimpers and pleas. How his fingers were curled so tightly in the comforter that his arms started shaking until Bucky took notice and gently pried them open, then guided one hand to soft brunette locks and with the other, laced their fingers together. 

Steve remembers how his chest got tight when Bucky pulled off to brush a quick kiss to his thigh. 

What damn near killed him was the way Bucky’s tongue was massaging against him, the way he could feel Bucky’s tongue moving at the base of his dick. 

And fuck. The way Bucky looked. 

Mouth full and drooling around Steve’s dick. Perfect lips curved around him. Stunning stormy eyes gazing up at him, stealing his breath. Bucky’s blown pupils as he swallowed Steve’s release, not missing one drop. 

Not even closing his eyes could save him now. 

That image will never leave Steve’s mind.  

Afterwards, when they’d brushed their teeth, changed the comforter, and climbed back into bed- with Steve giving up his side after Bucky kissed him breathless and left him agreeable to nearly anything- there was one brief moment when Steve thought he might die from awkwardness. 

His heart had raced simply from the fact that Bucky was in his bed, under his covers. 

Bucky didn’t seem to notice, though. He just made himself comfortable, snuggling down into the mattress and sighing contentedly. 

Then he turned his head towards Steve and started talking about some random thing that happened to him on campus but Steve could hardly focus because even underneath the covers, he could feel the heat from Bucky’s body. 

They didn’t touch, but Steve felt himself relaxing all the same. 

Still, his only honest regret from last night is that he didn’t fall asleep with his head on Bucky’s chest. 

Staring moonily at the wall, Steve’s fingertips find his lips with the lightest touch. 

He kissed Bucky. 

Bucky kissed him. 

Steve can feel the tingling down in his toes even now, just from the memory of Bucky’s lips against his. 

A couple more flashbacks of all the ways that Bucky can use his mouth and Steve realizes that he’s hard. He’s not sure how early it is, but he doubts Bucky would mind going another round. With that thought, he stretches and then rolls to see if Bucky’s awake yet. 

And then is washed with panic because Bucky’s not even there. 

His anxiety immediately tries to convince him that Bucky got up and left the second Steve shut his eyes. That Bucky realized that he’s wasting his time with Steve, that he can do better, get better somewhere else. That Steve just turned himself into the punchline of a cruel joke. 

But then his logic chimes in.

Bucky’s phone isn’t beside Steve’s on the nightstand but all he has to do is look over to his desk to see that all of Bucky’s other things are still sitting there. 

Plus, now that he’s not half asleep and thinking with his dick, he can smell something cooking.

Not to mention, there’s supposed to be a ton of snow on the ground and more to come.

Where the fuck would Bucky even have went? 

Rolling his eyes at himself, Steve crawls out of bed, grabbing his phone to check the time. It’s only half past nine, which is much earlier than he expected given how well-rested he feels. 

“Morning,” he mumbles as he trudges into the kitchen, perking up when he sees Bucky’s shirtless back standing in front of the stove, flipping a pancake. 

“Morning, sunshine,” Bucky glances over his shoulder with a smile. “Slept good?” 

“Mhm,” Steve hums, eyes wandering over Bucky’s figure. He moves closer, leaning on the counter off to Bucky’s side. 

“Coffee’s ready if you want some,” Bucky nods to the pot by Steve. 

Steve makes a pleased noise, pouring himself a mug and getting some creamer out of the fridge. He asks Bucky how he likes his and manages to hold his blush to a slight pink when he hands Bucky a mug and Bucky thanks him with a wink. 

“You know you don’t have to be my personal chef, right?” Steve asks, settling even closer to Bucky than he was before.

“You saying you don’t like my cooking?” Bucky shakes his head, tsking. “Breaking my heart. You should be more grateful than that, Rogers.” 

“Buck, you know I am,” Steve says softly. 

Bucky looks at him again, eyes warm. 

“Really, Bucky,” Steve continues, surprising himself as he holds Bucky’s gaze. “Thank you.” 

It’s far too sincere to be mistaken for gratitude over some coffee and pancakes. Bucky’s eyes widen a bit, just as surprised with Steve’s unprovoked honesty as Steve is.

“Oh. Okay. Um.” Bucky’s never the one stammering and breaking eye contact. Steve swears his cheeks are getting a little red, too. “Well. It’s no big deal.” 

Steve would like to tell Bucky that the way he treats Steve is a big deal, if only to Steve. But he’s run out of courage for the time being, so he just clears his throat and takes a sip of his coffee. 

They’re quiet while Bucky finishes the stack of pancakes he’s prepared for them, but it’s not exactly an awkward silence. The air around them does start to feel a bit too heavy for Steve’s comfort, though, so he wanders over to the window. 

It’s still snowing but it’s lighter than it was yesterday. The road is still covered, though it does look like a plow came through at some point, to Steve's dismay. 

He sort of hopes the snow keeps coming and the buses can’t start their routes. But this is New York and snow is routine, so he wouldn’t be surprised if the buses started running by this evening. 

“Come eat, Steve,” Bucky is suddenly beside him, one warm hand on the small of his back. 

Steve goes but not before wondering what would happen if he turned and kissed Bucky again. 

******

After breakfast and taking turns in the shower- because Steve couldn’t quite work up the nerve to ask Bucky to join him- they’re back in the living room and Steve is back to his usual awkward self. 

How should he be acting right now? Should he be more touchy? Or is that weird? Do they pretend all day that nothing has happened between them until it’s time to go to bed? Is he supposed- or even allowed- to kiss Bucky when he gets close? 

The questions have Steve floating between the television and the couch, pretending to be caught up in looking for something to watch until he can figure out what to do. 

But Bucky moves first, heading back down the hallway and returning with his bag in hand. He sees Steve’s questioning look and smiles. 

“Got a project I need to do some work on,” Bucky explains, pulling out a notebook and a laptop.  

“You can do engineering projects on a laptop?”

“Depends,” Bucky laughs. “You think I need a whole lair or something?”  

Steve does not say yes because obviously he didn’t think Bucky needed a lair but he also can’t stop the sheepish look on his face because, well, maybe he thought a lab was necessary. 

Bucky’s smile is softer now and he turns his screen towards Steve. There’s a 3-D model that Steve can’t identify, but Bucky moves it around and starts talking about designing pieces, then printing them, then somehow putting it all together because Bucky is building a robot. 

A robot that will- hopefully- be fully functional and responsive to commands. 

“Sure you don’t need that lair?” Steve’s joking but not even his teasing can mask how impressed he sounds. 

“It’s only a simple robot,” Bucky shrugs. “Nothing fancy. It’ll be little and it won’t do much.” 

If that’s supposed to lessen Steve’s fascination, it doesn’t work. But he leaves Bucky to it, going to get his own laptop because he should probably do something productive this weekend too. 

And it’s nice working in shared silence with Bucky. 

Even with Bucky’s unintentionally and unreasonably distracting behaviors- biting his lip, poking his tongue against his cheek, furrowing his brows in concentration, gently nibbling the end of his pen as he thinks- it’s easy to relax into his work. 

Minutes turn into hours and the only interruptions have been one of them turning their screen so the other can see their progress. Steve finishes first because he actually needs to be with his group to do most of this particular project so he starts watching Bucky, completely and genuinely fascinated by the 3-D work Bucky is doing. 

Steve has had the opportunity to work with 3-D programs in his own field of study- and he’s already been accepted to a master’s program starting this fall where he’ll be practicing animation and motion graphics- but, aside from the basic similarities, what Bucky is doing is a whole new world. 

So he spends another couple hours switching between watching Netflix and watching Bucky, trying to keep up with what’s happening on the TV and on Bucky’s screen but failing on both ends. 

Bucky will even make attempts to explain his work every so often, but Steve is already so lost that it’s pointless. 

He doesn’t tell Bucky that, though. 

Because it’s really doing something for Steve to hear Bucky talk so confidently and intelligently about something that’s clearly not as simple as he’s trying to make it sound and he has to cover his lap with a pillow when his thoughts turn dirty. 

This type of arousal, at least, is not exactly something new for Steve. Sam once said that he thought Steve had a “competency kink.” 

At the time, Steve brushed the comment off and said that wasn’t even a real thing. 

But now, eyes glued to Bucky’s pretty mouth as he easily explains another step of his project, he’s starting to think that Sam might’ve been onto something. 

His fattening dick would concur. 

And he tries to be patient. He really does. 

He even lasts another ten whole minutes before he’s shifting closer. 

Bucky has frustration written across all his features as he huffs and clicks out of his screen and even that is a good look on him. He’s just skimming through something now so Steve is hoping that means he’s nearly done because all he can think about is getting his lips back on Bucky’s skin. 

“Bucky.” 

“Hm?” Bucky doesn’t even move. 

“Buck.” 

All Steve gets this time is Bucky turning his head, but keeping his eyes on his laptop. 

“Yeah?” 

“Buck,” Steve reaches out to let his fingers graze Bucky’s thigh. This time, Bucky glances down at Steve’s fingers before looking up at him with a raised brow. “You’ve been working on that all day. Why don’t you take a break?” 

“Oh, yeah?” Bucky’s eyes are back on Steve’s fingers, watching them trace patterns on his leg.  “You want me to take a break, sweetheart?” 

“Yeah,” Steve says softly. 

“I can do that,” Bucky nods, immediately shutting his laptop and putting it back in his bag. When he’s done, he shifts towards Steve and gives him a scorching look. “What else do you want?” 

Steve is already moving to get Bucky out of his pants. Bucky’s dick is a bit chubby, but still soft, when Steve finally gets it free and it’s a little less intimidating than starting off with it huge and hard. 

“Just want you to sit back and relax, Buck.” 

Then he’s leaning down and taking Bucky in his mouth. Sucking on a soft cock is far more pacifying than Steve thinks it has any right to be, but nevertheless, he sags against Bucky with instant relief. 

“Yeah, okay,” Bucky sighs, sinking against the couch back as his hand settles low on Steve’s back. “I can do that, too.” 

Steve doesn’t rush this. 

Quite the opposite, actually. 

It’s slow. Languid. Lazy. 

Even when Bucky’s fully hard, Steve still sucks him gently and without any sense of urgency, with the hand that’s not tucked between Bucky and the couch delicately fondling Bucky’s balls. 

And Bucky lets Steve take his time, have his fun. He pushes up lightly into Steve’s mouth every so often but he mostly listens and lets Steve do all the work and his soft noises are more than enough for Steve to want to get lost in the moment. 

At some point, Bucky reaches behind Steve to get the TV remote and turns the volume up. He taps Steve’s cheek and tells him he should be paying attention to his show so Steve scoots closer and rests his head on Bucky’s stomach so he can keep sucking while they watch. 

With his head in Bucky’s lap and one of Bucky’s hands lightly petting at his hair as he murmurs praise down at him,  Steve feels very much like a dog but he won’t deny the arousal building down deep in his gut. 

The hand in his hair is doing its best to melt Steve’s brain and the weight of Bucky against his tongue is giving him that heady feeling again. Soon enough, Steve finds his eyes drooping- even as he continues sucking and licking. 

He doesn’t even care about his own erection at this point. The only thing that’s keeping him from spacing out or falling asleep while sucking on Bucky's dick like it's a pacifier is Bucky’s other hand that has found a resting point on Steve’s ass. 

It’s just sitting there. No stroking, groping, pinching. Nothing. Just still. Idle. 

And yet, it has every ounce of awareness that Steve can manage with his mind being so hazy. 

He’s not upset that it’s there. 

It’s just that his ass has never really been touched while he’s in the middle of something… intimate. 

He’s mostly only interested in seeing what Bucky plans to do with it. 

Except Bucky never does anything with it. 

The hand just stays there, unmoving, and occupies Steve’s mind, filling his brain with questions and possibilities. 

When Bucky finally comes, Steve has no idea how long it’s been since they started but he keeps going until Bucky dribbles out some extra come and goes soft. Even then, he only pulls off when Bucky must get too sensitive and his fingers go from gently petting to gently tugging. 

Bucky makes sure to continue his stream of praise, though, and even pulls Steve up to give him a quick peck on the lips. Steve’s answering smile is goofy and he can hardly keep his eyes open as Bucky readjusts them so that Steve is on top of him, head tucked under Bucky’s chin. 

When they get settled, Bucky’s fingers find Steve’s hair again, brushing softly as he presses a warm kiss to Steve’s forehead. 

“Sweet boy,” Bucky whispers, lips moving against Steve’s skin. 

That’s all it takes for Steve to finally let his eyes drift closed. 

Later, Bucky gets Steve back in bed and kisses him so slowly and deeply that Steve thinks he might actually be drunk from it. 

And then he reaches a big hand into Steve’s pants and strokes him just as slowly as he’s kissing him, effectively reducing Steve into a writhing, whimpering puddle. 

Steve comes with Bucky’s tongue still intently mapping out the inside of his mouth. 

******

Bucky finds Steve’s dumbbells shortly after they get finished and Steve watches him with a tiny smile as he goes through several sets of exercises. 

They check out the window again later, and Steve is disappointed but not surprised to see cars and buses back on the road. 

Half expecting Bucky to leave now that he has the chance, Steve is very surprised when Bucky doesn’t even contemplate it and goes right to the kitchen to make food. 

This time, Steve is able to convince him to just do some freezer food like a real college student, so they heat up two pizzas and share them while playing video games. 

Steve misses a couple calls from Peggy and Sam, earning a curious look- but thankfully no questions- from Bucky, and he just hopes neither of them try calling again because he's supposed to be home alone right now and he doesn't have a good excuse to give either of them. 

When it’s time for bed, Bucky ends up keeping them up longer because he gets distracted by a hoodie he sees hanging in Steve’s closet and then proceeds to try on as many of Steve’s shirts as he can fit himself into while Steve laughs and tries to pretend he doesn’t like the way Bucky looks in his clothes. 

And when Bucky crawls on the bed in a shirt that’s a bit too tight to be decent, Steve ignores his exhaustion and pulls Bucky into a kiss. 

He’s not angling for much. 

Just wanted to feel those lips on his one more time tonight. 

But Bucky has another plan and gets Steve to sit between his legs, his back to Bucky’s chest and his head resting in the space between Bucky’s neck and shoulder. 

“Am I still the only guy you’re attracted to?” 

“What?” Steve blinks. 

“Am I?” 

“I- Well, yeah. I mean… I- Yes.” 

“Really? You don’t like looking at any other guy? No one else has caught your eye?” 

“Um. I- Well no. Haven’t really, uh… thought about it. I guess” 

“Hm.” 

“What?” 

“Wanna watch something with me, sweetheart?” Bucky whispers by his ear and his tone is so unmistakably suggestive and that’s unfair because there’s no way Steve would ever turn him down like this. 

“You mean, like…Um-” 

“Yes,” Bucky kisses his neck and Steve shivers. 

“Uh. Okay.” 

Steve does not mention how disastrous his first attempt at watching gay porn was, but he gets the feeling that somehow Bucky knows. 

Bucky has both arms around Steve, phone in his right hand as he taps into his browser and starts typing. His left hand is resting over Steve’s dick, which obviously can’t help but perk up whenever Bucky’s close by. 

“What gets you off, Rogers?” Bucky’s rumbling in his ear again. “Back shots? Or I bet a sweet thing like you likes to see their faces, huh?” 

Steve takes a sharp breath as Bucky squeezes him. “Either. Both.” 

“Mm. Can’t choose one or the other,” Bucky pulls Steve’s dick out. “Just like me, aren’t you, baby?” 

Steve doesn’t answer. He’s too busy watching Bucky scroll through videos as he starts to stroke him. 

“Think you’ll like this one,” Bucky says softly. “Not as pretty as you, but look at that sweet face.” 

And Bucky’s not wrong about the guy’s looks. He is admittedly attractive and has big brown eyes that Steve is sure get him in just as much trouble as they get him out of. 

But what’s really grabbing Steve’s attention is the big, dark-haired man with light eyes that just walked in the shot. He’s a bit too pale and his eyes aren’t winter skies- more like summer fields- but they’re still beautiful. 

Really, it only takes a couple seconds of staring for something to finally click in Steve’s thick ass skull. 

Oh. I have a type.

Then, the dark-hair guy flashes a smile at the camera and maybe it doesn’t steal Steve’s breath, but it does give an almost-familiar tug at the right strings and his dick does twitch beneath Bucky’s palm. 

Oh. 

I have a type. 

“Yeah?” Bucky squeezes again. 

Steve’s breaths have picked up but he manages to nod a little shakily. 

Bucky presses a kiss to Steve’s hair, which has Steve sinking further against him, but then Bucky’s hand disappears from his dick and Steve makes an offended noise, craning his neck to give Bucky his most disapproving look. 

“Sorry.” But he clearly isn’t, because he chuckles and doesn’t put his hand back. “This is all you, Steve. I just wanna watch. Is that okay, sweetheart?” 

Steve’s cheeks start burning instantly and he has to turn away from Bucky’s assessing eyes. 

Of course, when he turns, he’s greeted with the video playing on Bucky’s phone where Brown Eyes is now happily sucking cock and looking into the camera with wide eyes like he’s the most innocent man in the world. 

No one could possibly be more surprised than Steve when his own hand picks up where Bucky left off. 

“Okay,” Steve rasps. 

Bucky makes a satisfied rumbling noise that travels straight down to Steve’s dick and leans their heads together. He rucks Steve’s shirt up under his arms and pulls Steve with him as he makes himself more comfortable. 

“God damn, Steve. You got any idea how fucking pretty you are? Look at you, sweetheart. Gorgeous.”

Steve can hear himself whine a little bit but he can really only focus on breathing as he watches Brown Eyes drool around the other man’s dick. 

After that, Bucky’s mostly quiet besides the occasional encouragement so Steve can actually form complete thoughts for a change. 

He’s not sure if he loves that. Mostly because it just means he has to overthink what he’s doing but Bucky somehow always murmurs praise right when Steve needs to hear it and after a few minutes, he feels comfortable enough to give his full attention to the men on screen. 

And wow. 

He was not prepared to like this so much. Both men are hot and there's really no way for Steve to deny that. They both clearly know how to make everything look best for the camera. And they look good together. 

Do Bucky and I look good together?

Everything about this moment is a first. 

He has never watched porn with another person. 

He has never watched gay porn. Not successfully, at least. 

He has jerked off while on FaceTime with Peggy before, but he’s never had someone in the room with him just to watch him masturbate. 

And he’s definitely never been held- cuddled- while he gets himself off. 

It’s overwhelming and scary. 

But if Bucky ever offers to do this again, Steve will be saying yes in a heartbeat. 

Bucky keeps letting his lips brush against Steve’s temple and trailing his fingertips along Steve’s body and Steve watches as precome starts to leak out of his tip. 

A couple times, he loses rhythm- normally after Bucky brushes a thumb over his nipple- and Bucky just lays his hand over Steve’s and guides him back to a steady pace. He refuses to let Steve go too fast and each time Bucky slows him back down, Steve lets out a pleading whine and can feel Bucky’s smile against his temple. 

Steve’s left hand is gripping Bucky’s leg, desperately trying to hold onto any semblance of control over himself but obviously failing. Especially when Bucky dips his head to start softly kissing and nipping at Steve’s neck, right beneath his jaw. 

“Buck,” Steve breathes. 

“Doing so good, baby,” Bucky murmurs, kissing his way up to Steve’s cheek. His hand snakes its way to Steve’s chin, turning Steve towards him to give him a relatively chaste kiss that still has Steve moaning. “You gonna come for me, Steve? Let me see you make a mess, sweetheart.” 

“Oh, fuck,” Steve mumbles against Bucky’s lips, stealing another kiss before he turns to look back at the phone. 

The on-screen duo look like they’re getting close to an orgasm, too. Brown Eyes is on his back, gazing up at the dark-haired man stroking and fucking him like he hung the moon and the stars. 

Steve wonders if that’s how he looks at Bucky. 

He also briefly wonders what it feels like taking a dick but quickly shoves the thought as far back in his mind as possible. 

The second Brown Eyes starts coming all over his belly, Steve knows he can’t last any longer. And then, the other guy pulls out and adds to the mess and Steve is done for. 

His come sprays out onto his stomach in milky streams before eventually dribbling out over his fist. 

Steve tips his head back onto Bucky’s shoulder, panting like he just got done with a workout. He keeps his eyes shut but he turns his face towards Bucky’s and sighs contently when he gets a kiss on his forehead. 

Bucky’s patient as Steve calms down and catches his breath, peppering any part of Steve’s face he can reach with sweet little kisses. 

Eventually, Steve gets the presence of mind to kiss back and they stay like that for a while until Steve gets himself twisted around and starts working Bucky’s dick out of his pants. 

He’s a bit disappointed when Bucky doesn’t let him suck it, which is a feeling that he’s not sure will ever stop shocking him. 

Bucky strokes himself, but he does keep Steve’s head close with orders to open his mouth and stick his tongue out. When he’s about to come, he angles the head of his cock closer to Steve’s mouth and holds Steve in place as he splashes his come across Steve’s tongue, on his lips, and down his chin. 

Steve blushes like crazy as Bucky pushes come into his mouth and asks Steve to clean it off his thumb, but he does it happily and with no hesitation. 

When Steve wakes up in the morning, Bucky’s still sleeping beside him and looking far too adorable for a man his size. 

They still didn’t cuddle or even touch last night, a fact made worse because Bucky’s leaving today, but their bodies are close now and it’s hard to keep himself from scooting the remaining few inches into Bucky’s arms. 

He watches as Bucky shifts a little and smiles softly when it makes their arms brush. 

Steve may be dumb but he’s certainly not a complete idiot, and he woke up with a lot of thoughts and realizations on the forefront of his mind that he definitely knew deep down but refused to let surface or even acknowledge. 

He guesses that technically he is still experimenting, but this is far more than curiosity. 

He likes- really likes- everything he gets to do with Bucky. 

Sure, he hasn’t done everything yet, but even if blowjobs are as far as he goes, he’s okay with that. 

If Bucky wakes up and never talks to him again, Steve thinks he’d even be interested in finding another guy to mess around with. 

Not like he’d ever get someone as handsome or as perfect as Bucky Barnes to look his way ever again, but that’s an awfully high standard to hold someone to anyway. 

Steve supposes he should be surprised that the realization that he’s not entirely straight isn’t sending him directly into a mental breakdown but, in truth, he’s known it for weeks now. 

It’s not any less terrifying, but he thinks his body is used to the constant underlying fear at this point. 

But he hates that he still finds it so scary. 

It’s normal. It’s okay. 

Yet, even though he knows there’s absolutely nothing wrong with being attracted to whoever you’re attracted to- genitals be damned- he can’t get rid of the sinking feeling in his gut. 

“Steve?” 

Bucky’s voice is still laced with sleep, but Steve can hear the concern in it, too. He blinks and finds Bucky already looking at him, brows furrowed as he wipes at one eye before stretching. 

Cute. 

“Steve, what’s wrong?” 

“Huh?” Steve blinks again. “Oh, nothing, Buck. I just woke up. Tired.” 

Bucky hums and closes his eyes again, and Steve knows he’s not fully awake because there’s no way an alert Bucky would ever believe that excuse. 

It’s another few minutes before Bucky finally sighs and sits up. His hair is a little messy and it’s not fair that it looks so good. When he looks down at Steve, he gives a tired smile and reaches out to run his fingers through Steve’s hair. 

“Morning, pretty boy,” Bucky murmurs. 

“Morning, handsome,” Steve smiles back. 

Bucky’s smile gets bigger and Steve catches his hand, tugging until Bucky gets the hint and slips down until he’s lying down again, pressed against Steve. 

“You’re gonna wear me out, sweetheart,” Bucky says softly, tipping his head to give more room as Steve leans in to kiss his neck. 

“You don’t want to?” Steve asks quietly. 

Bucky answers by pressing his already half-hard dick into Steve’s thigh. He gets a hand in Steve’s hair and pulls his head back to take his turn at kissing and licking down Steve’s throat. 

“Always want to,” Bucky whispers. “Just can’t believe you still do.” 

Of course I do. 

But Steve doesn’t respond with words. He just lightly pushes Bucky onto his back and works his way down his body. It’s only been a little less than twenty-four hours since the last time he had Bucky in his mouth, but it feels like it’s been days and Steve savors it in case it’s a while before they can be like this again. 

Or, in case Bucky decides he’s bored with Steve and this is the last chance Steve gets. 

Bucky gently pulls Steve off a few minutes into it but assures Steve that he just wants to change positions. So, Steve sits up and watches as Bucky gets up to stand at the edge of the bed and points to the space in front of him. 

“Come here.” 

One thing about Steve is that he does not do well with being told what to do. 

One other thing about Steve is that he thinks he might do literally anything Bucky asks him to do, as long as he uses that tone. 

He finds himself kneeling in front of Bucky before he even realizes what he’s doing. 

“Good boy,” Bucky says, voice low. Steve feels his mouth part and has to bite his bottom lip to keep from gaping like a dumbass. “Scoot back a little. Yeah. Go ahead, baby.” 

Steve shifts back until he’s on his hands and knees so he can dip down to take Bucky back between his lips. It’s good that Bucky’s so tall, but even still, the bed is a bit too high up for Steve to do this comfortably. 

His face is on fire as he spreads his knees further until he can sink down to his elbows. Like this, Steve’s ass is poked up and his cheeks are more parted than he’s used to and he feels very exposed despite the fabric covering him and he’s hyper-aware of those facts but there’s no denying this position is a lot more comfortable than before.

Of course, this is clearly what Bucky wanted in the first place. 

“There you go, sweetheart,” Bucky makes a deep, pleased sound from the back of his throat.  “Look so fucking good like that, Steve. Can I try something?” 

Steve doesn’t know what Bucky wants to try but it’s not like anything Bucky has done with Steve has ever been anything less than amazing, so Steve hums around Bucky’s cock and nods his head just in case. 

“Fuck,” Bucky breathes, one hand coming up to grip Steve’s hair. “Okay. Stop me if you need to.” 

Steve’s still confused until he feels Bucky lean slightly over him and a large hand settles on his ass, rubbing lightly. 

His whole body jolts but he forces himself to relax quickly. 

“Okay?” Bucky questions. 

Steve nods again. 

He’s not sure if that’s honest, because he feels like this is very clearly a soft launch into the next phase of his sexual experiences and that definitely freaks him out but also- 

It’s just a hand on your ass, Rogers. Calm down. 

So he does. 

He turns his attention back to sucking, challenging himself to take Bucky deeper than he did yesterday. He’s doing really well, too, until Bucky starts gently squeezing his ass. 

‘Choking’ isn’t the right word for what Steve does, but whatever it is, Steve has to pull back so he doesn’t make a fool of himself. 

“Easy, Steve,” Bucky murmurs. “Still okay?” 

“Yeah,” Steve rasps. “I’m good.” 

They each go back to what they were doing and Steve finds that it actually feels kind of nice to have someone feeling on him like this. 

It’s even better when Steve has slipped into that peaceful head-space and is drooling around Bucky, and Bucky moves the hand in Steve’s hair down to Steve’s other ass cheek so he can massage both sides at the same time. 

“Got the nicest ass, Rogers, you know that? Damn.”

And Steve’s not bragging or anything, but he does know he has a nice ass. It’s a good shape and size, enough that even Bucky’s big palms can get a handful, and to be so muscular, it can have pretty decent movement. 

But he still likes hearing Bucky say it. 

The next time Bucky squeezes, Steve’s cheeks part and he makes a pathetic little noise. 

There might be some embarrassment behind the sound, but there’s definitely more surprise and a shocking amount of interest. 

“Good?” Bucky does it again. 

Steve’s whine must be a good enough answer because Bucky hums with satisfaction. He leans back a second, one hand returning to Steve’s hair and scratching lightly. Steve looks up, meeting Bucky’s eyes. 

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” Bucky says softly. “So good. I’m going to try one more thing, okay?” 

Steve nods again, eyes slipping back closed as Bucky reaches over him one more time. 

Even with Steve’s boxer briefs acting as a barrier, Bucky’s thumb is dangerously close to dipping down into Steve’s crack and Steve recognizes that as Bucky’s hint-slash-warning of what’s about to happen. He gives Steve a moment to pull away, but Steve just focuses on sliding further down Bucky’s shaft. 

It doesn’t end up happening how Steve is expecting it. 

Instead of Bucky’s thumb sliding down between his cheeks, Bucky repositions his hand so that his pointer finger is resting in the dip between Steve’s cheeks. He’s not even pressing down hard enough yet for the fabric to come in contact with any skin. 

Bucky lightly runs his finger in that crease, slowly but steadily applying more pressure and getting closer to actually touching him. 

Steve is making small noises around Bucky’s cock and Steve’s not sure if it’s the notes of desperation in those sounds or the way Steve is starting to angle his ass up into Bucky’s touch that has Bucky throbbing in his mouth. 

It’s probably a good thing that Steve has a mouth full of dick for this, because the second he feels Bucky’s finger on the skin right above his rim, Steve moans so loudly that he can’t even believe it came from his body. 

The feeling is strange, for sure. 

Foreign, but welcome. 

He didn’t realize how sensitive the skin in that area is or how it’s seemingly hot-wired directly to his dick. 

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Bucky whispers, finger slipping lower. 

Steve’s hands, which were just tangled in the sheets, move to grasp the back of Bucky’s legs and hold on tight. 

When Bucky is pressing down right over Steve’s hole, Steve feels a shiver travel throughout his spine and his dick twitches, getting harder every second. 

“Not gonna try anything else today, baby,” Bucky starts thrusting slowly into Steve’s mouth at the same time he starts circling Steve’s rim through his briefs. 

Steve is starting to feel a little drunk. 

“But one day,” Bucky continues. “I wanna show you how good I can make you feel. You feel good right now, right, Steve?” 

Steve must do something to answer Bucky’s question but he has no idea what. 

“Yeah, I thought so,” Steve can hear that fucking smirk. “One day, we’ll make sure you’re nice and ready for me and I’ll get you just like this. But we’ll get these out of the way, won’t we, baby?” 

Bucky taps at Steve’s briefs but doesn’t wait for a response. Steve is probably blushing, but he can’t feel it because his body is hot all over. 

“Yea- Oh, fuck, that feels good, Steve. That fucking mouth. Shit,” Bucky huffs. “Mm. Whenever you’re ready for it, baby. I’ll give you anything you let me. How’s that sound? You gonna let me play with you one day, Stevie?”

Steve thinks he manages to nod again, but he’s not sure. 

He just had a sort of sexual revelation less than twenty minutes ago, he has more of Bucky’s dick in his mouth than he’s had before, there’s a big finger teasing at his rim and a careful hand brushing soothingly through his hair, and enticing offers being spewed at him. 

There’s a good chance he might die like this. 

Slobbering around a dick with a finger signing promises into the tight fabric pressed against his skin. 

It's a pretty damn good morning. 

And he hasn’t even had his coffee yet.

Chapter Text

Steve’s calm acceptance of his newly recognized sexual attraction to men lasts for about five minutes after Bucky leaves. 

After that point, his panicked brain quickly tries to reason that he only decided he was not straight because his mind was so foggy from all the dick he sucked over the weekend and he couldn’t think clearly enough to come to logical conclusions. 

And then, he makes himself repeat that thought out loud and very slowly.

So. 

There’s pretty much no argument Steve could make for himself that would even come close to any conclusion besides the obvious. 

After a small freak out, which still isn’t as intense as what Steve was expecting the first time he acknowledged this, Steve admits it to himself again. 

For real, this time. 

He’s bisexual. 

He doesn’t know what that changes for him. He doesn’t know if it’s supposed to change anything for him. 

And if saying it out loud is supposed to make him feel better, it didn’t work. 

Maybe he’s supposed to say it out loud to someone else? 

He could call Bucky. 

Bucky just left though, and Steve would look really stupid if he called the guy he just finished blowing to say, “Hey, man. I know this might be surprising, but I’m into men now, too!” 

No way. 

Sam will be home in the morning. He could talk to Sam then. 

That scares him, too, though, and he can’t figure out why. 

Sam is abundantly patient and kind and understanding. There’s no chance he would ever laugh at Steve or invalidate anything he says. Any and all of his secrets are safe with Sam. Steve knows that. 

If he tells Sam, though, then it becomes even more real than it is now. 

Steve sighs. 

He wishes Bucky would’ve stayed tonight, too. 

A smile creeps onto Steve’s face as he thinks about the lingering kisses Bucky and he shared by the door. He almost thinks that Bucky wouldn’t have said no if Steve had asked him to stay longer. 

That’s probably just Steve being hopeful because, surely, Bucky has other things to do that are better than being holed up with him.

He takes a deep breath and looks around the apartment. 

It’s clean. Bucky’s a neat guy and no room ever got untidy to begin with, but Steve still has to fight the urge to wipe down every surface like he’s getting rid of evidence. 

He’s not sure why. He doesn’t regret this weekend at all. He’d do it again, no hesitation. 

What he really needs to do is make a trip to the store to replace some of the food that they ate before Sam starts fussing and asking questions. 

Except, he really didn’t cook a single thing besides some frozen pizzas so he doesn’t know what all was used and definitely not how much. 

He sighs again and pulls out his phone to text Bucky. 

His phone buzzes a couple minutes later and Steve rolls his eyes before he even opens Bucky’s response, already knowing he’s about to be teased. 

And he’s right, but he’s smiling big. 

“What are you doing for Valentine’s Day?” 

Steve is sitting on the living room couch with Sam’s feet in his lap, playing Call of Duty in one versus one mode against Bucky. He was just about to beat him for the first time since they became friends, but- of course- Sam had to choose this exact moment to ask that question. 

Steve freezes and Bucky’s character shoots his and the screen informs him that he’s been killed. 

Again. 

Not even two seconds later, his phone buzzes in his pocket. 

He sighs. 

“What did you say?” Steve asks even though he knows exactly what Sam said. 

“Valentine’s Day,” Sam says, scrolling through his phone. “Got plans?” 

“Um-“ 

Steve stares blankly at the screen. 

No. 

He didn’t even realize. 

Peggy hasn’t said anything and Steve hasn’t said anything. 

And Bucky… 

“No,” Steve finally answers. “No plans. You?” 

“Wait, really?” Sam’s stopped scrolling. “It’s in two days. You’re not doing anything with Peggy?” 

“We, uh, haven’t talked about it,” Steve mutters. “So. Guess not.” 

Does Peggy have plans with someone else?

His phone buzzes again and an invite to play another round pops up in the corner of the TV screen. 

Does Bucky have any Valentine’s Day plans? 

“Oh,” Sam says. “Wow. So, you guys are… fighting? Or…” 

“Uh. Nah, not really,” Steve shifts uncomfortably as he accepts the invite and ignores his phone. 

Peggy and he haven’t really talked much at all the past several days. 

“Not really?” Sam nudges him with his foot. “The fuck does that mean?” 

“Nothing,” Steve pointedly doesn’t look at Sam as he chooses another weapon for his character. “I told you. It’s just… not like that.” 

He hears a quiet scoff.

“Straight men,” Sam mutters. Steve can hear the eye roll in his voice. “Barnes, huh?” 

Steve tries not to go rigid and he has to swallow his panic. 

“What?”

“That tag,” and Steve does look over at Sam now to see him gesturing to the screen. “Barnes. Like Bucky Barnes? I didn’t know you guys were friends.” 

“Oh,” Steve breathes, relief and guilt flooding his body. “Yeah, we ran into each other at the gym a couple times. He’s cool. He, uh- He’s been helping me with that chemistry class I was telling you about.” 

There. 

A few half-truths. 

“Huh,” Sam sounds impressed. “Cute, smart, and nice.” 

“I guess.” 

Steve squints at the screen.

“Anyway,” Sam starts, and Steve is very grateful they’re not about to have a conversation about how great Bucky is. His stupid ass probably wouldn’t shut the fuck up. “There’s a party on Valentine’s Day. I wasn’t expecting you to actually be free, but since you are… You trying to go?” 

There’s something very unpleasant burning in Steve’s chest. 

Technically, it’s not too late to make Valentine’s Day plans but Steve knows he’s fucked it up. It feels even more disrespectful to make short-notice plans with Peggy after not talking to her for days. 

If he’s being honest, he doesn’t think he wants to make plans, either. Something’s just… changed. 

Steve blinks. 

He’s not going to be with Peggy or Bucky on Valentine’s Day. 

But why is Bucky even a concern he’s having right now? 

Bucky is a good time, a new friend, a study partner. A guilty pleasure. That’s it. 

Peggy is his best girl. One of his closest friends. They’ve been one step away from a relationship for months now. 

And, now, Steve realizes that he’s been slowly pulling away from her and hasn’t even thought twice about it. 

Hasn’t even really missed the way they used to be. 

Isn’t even all that sad. 

So, he could spend Valentine’s Day alone, trying not to think about what that means. 

Or… 

He could be drunk. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I wanna go.” 

It’s Valentine’s Day night and Steve is doing a pretty good job of getting himself too drunk to think about the things he doesn’t want to think about. 

He had an extremely awkward run-in with Peggy yesterday and there’s no doubt in his mind that he needs to sit down with her and have a talk. 

Bucky’s been too busy to meet up since their last hookup- and Steve has been, too, but he’d probably find a way to make time if Bucky would just ask- but they have had a few gaming sessions and satisfying FaceTime talks. 

Still, Steve can’t help but get nervous that Bucky’s not thinking about him and they’ll end up drifting away from each other, too, and then he’ll be completely alone. 

But. 

Sober Steve can worry about all that in the morning. 

There have been a couple girls hanging around him that Steve thought he could definitely get into bed before the night is over. 

And he’s not drunk enough to think that it could ever make him feel better or help him move past anything, but he’s tipsy enough to consider giving it a shot. 

But then again, he’d have to sober up and that is definitely not an option tonight. 

Looking at the girls as they giggle and stumble around, it’s pretty obvious that it’s not an option for them either. 

So, Steve has resigned himself to the fact that he’s going to end up going home alone on Valentine’s Day after all. 

Hence, the reason he’s starting to do such a thorough job of getting too drunk to care. 

His efforts, however, are not soon or thorough enough. 

Because he hears some noise near the door and when he turns, he really wishes he was already blacked out. 

Bucky is grinning, hugging, nodding, winking at the people greeting him. 

And that’s not the worst part. 

The worst part is the stunning redhead he has on his arm. 

She’s looking at everyone a little skeptically, but rewarding people with a beautiful smile after Bucky gives her a small nod and encouraging smile of his own. Steve can’t make out all the smaller details about her, but she’s got a great body and he can tell that her eyes are light, too. 

And they look so fucking good together that it hurts. 

It hurts Steve to see them smiling at each other. 

The way Bucky looks so damn proud when she sticks a delicate hand out for a handshake with some random guy. 

The way he leans down so he can murmur something in her ear. Something that gets her playfully rolling her eyes and slapping lightly at his chest. 

When Bucky meets Steve’s eyes, his smile gets a little bigger and something in those winter eyes gets a little warmer. Steve thinks he returns a smile, but he’s not sure. 

Normally, that look on Bucky would make Steve blush or get that weird swooping feeling in his stomach. 

Right now, it just burns. 

Bucky just walked in with a date- a date that clearly is more on Bucky’s level than Steve will ever be- and saw Steve and he didn’t even care that Steve was seeing him with someone else. 

And why would he? 

Steve is just entertainment. 

Steve is just a willing hand and an eager mouth. 

Why would Bucky care if Steve sees him with a real date? 

Why does Steve want him to? 

He looks away. 

Every eye in the room is on Bucky and his date and they should be. 

They’re perfect. 

Steve looks down at the bottle in his hands. 

It’s not full enough. 

The kitchen is empty when he walks in, so he doesn’t feel too much shame when he chugs one beer and takes another to go. 

Where the fuck is Sam? 

He finds him down in the basement, clearly drunk as he plays beer pong and gets kisses on his cheek by girls who are even more drunk any time he sinks a shot. 

Sam hugs him excitedly when he sees him and soon enough Steve finds himself joining the next game with Sam as his partner. 

And it’s fun. 

He’s actually having a good time. 

He’s drunk and giggling at everything. 

He’s not thinking about Valentine’s Day, or Peggy, or Bucky. 

Not until he’s staggering back upstairs, then to the second floor, as he tries to find a bathroom that isn’t already occupied. 

He finally finds one at the end of the hallway and he spends a couple extra minutes after he’s done with the world’s most satisfying piss just splashing some water in his face. 

When he feels a little more recharged, he takes one last look at himself in the mirror and walks out the door. 

At least, he tries to walk out the door. 

Because when he opens it, he’s promptly pushed back in and crowded against the sink. 

He can hear the lock being turned and then there are soft, warm lips on his neck. 

“Been trying to get you alone all night, sweetheart.” 

Bucky’s raspy voice immediately sends tingles down his spine and he has to grip the edge of the sink just to keep himself steady. 

Guiltily, Steve lets Bucky keep kissing his neck, lets him work his way up Steve’s jaw, over to Steve’s lips. 

He kisses back for far too long before his conscious screams at him. 

“Buck.” 

Bucky hums, deep and rumbly, and grinds against Steve. Steve wishes he didn’t, but he definitely moans. 

“Buck.” 

“Yeah, baby, been missing this,” Bucky murmurs, hand slipping down to cup Steve’s rapidly growing erection. 

Steve gasps, lets the touch last for a few seconds too long. 

“Bucky, please. Stop .” 

Bucky’s off him in a flash and Steve aches a little more. 

“Shit, sorry,” Bucky breathes, stumbling backwards and running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. We’re drunk. You’re right. I’m-“ 

“On a date,” Steve finishes, trying to glare and calm himself down at the same time. “You’re here with someone, Buck. I don’t- I’m not… You’re with someone.”

Somehow, Bucky looks completely perplexed. 

“What?” 

“What do you mean ‘What?’” Steve doesn’t mean to snap at Bucky, but he thinks that’s how it comes out. 

“You think I’m…” Bucky blinks, then realization takes over his features. “Nat.” 

“If that’s her name,” Steve shrugs and his intent is to sound indifferent but he thinks he landed somewhere in the middle of pure jealousy. 

“Steve,” Bucky says softly. 

“Look, I’m just not comfortable with… that,” he stares pointedly at his feet. “She’s your date, Buck.” 

Bucky steps closer, only sways a little as he reaches out to lift Steve’s chin up. Steve lets him, but he stares off to the side of Bucky’s head so he doesn’t have to look him in the eyes. 

“Sweetheart,” Bucky starts. Steve tightens his grip on the edge of the sink. “Nat is not my date. She’s my friend.” 

“Looked like more than a friend,” Steve grumbles. 

“I’m not going to lie to you and say we never hookup,” Bucky tries meeting Steve’s eyes, but Steve looks back down so he can’t see the hurt that he knows is reflecting so clearly. Bucky sighs. “We have. But we don’t do it much anymore and it’s not like that, Steve. Never was. I promise. I wouldn’t do this to her, or anyone I was dating.” 

Bucky gently takes Steve’s chin again, but turns it firmly and waits until Steve finally gives up on trying to avoid those eyes. 

“I wouldn’t put you in that position, either,” Bucky murmurs. 

His eyes are a little droopy from the alcohol, but they’re still bright and beautiful as he looks at Steve. 

Steve can feel himself relaxing, even though some uncertainty lingers. 

“But…” He remembers the way she- Nat- was hanging off Bucky’s arm, looking to him before she’d flash her pretty smile at someone else. “Does she know this isn’t a date? She was clinging to you and kept looking at you like…” 

Bucky scrunches his brows for a second, but then they smooth back out as he seems to understand what Steve is talking about. 

“Come meet her,” Bucky says determinedly. 

“Buck, I don’t know if-“ 

“Come meet her.” Bucky says firmly and offers his hand. “Please.” 

Steve sighs but he places a hand in Bucky’s and allows himself to be led down the hall and back down the stairs. 

He’s not even thinking about the fact that he’s holding Bucky’s hand until Bucky pulls away right before they reach the room full of people. 

There’s a second where his heart starts racing because it has to look suspicious for Bucky and him to come downstairs together, but it’s clear that everyone is too drunk to apply any type of logical thinking to any situation. 

Nat is easy to find. She’s sitting in the middle of a group of girls, smiling and giggling along with them. 

Fuck, she’s gorgeous. 

Steve tries not to pout. 

“Nat,” Bucky calls as they get close. “Want you to meet someone.” 

Nat turns her pretty head in their direction and Steve mentally curses because of course she has beautiful eyes too. 

They’re green and alluring and they soften when they see Bucky, but narrow minutely when they shift to Steve. 

She turns back with a small smile and excuses herself from the girls. When she stands and walks to them, it’s far too graceful a movement to belong in this room. She stops at Bucky’s side, where she’s immediately tucked under a strong arm. 

Up close, something clicks and Steve realizes that he’s seen her before. At a party, floating somewhere in Bucky’s vicinity. Dancing with him, kissing on him. On his lap. In his arms. 

Well. 

At least they’re not making out on a couch right in front of me this time. 

“Nat, this is my friend, Steve,” Bucky smiles. “Steve, this is my friend, Nat.” 

“His best friend,” Nat corrects, smirking when Bucky rolls his eyes. “Do not let him lie.” 

Steve was in the process of politely shaking her hand, but when she speaks, he freezes. 

He wasn’t expecting a heavy accent- Russian, he thinks- and it takes him an embarrassing second to recover. 

Oh, that’s hot. 

“Nice to meet you,” Steve manages, eyes flicking back to Bucky. 

And then. 

Then, Bucky leans closer to Nat and starts speaking Russian. 

Steve is frozen solid again, despite the flames of arousal heating his insides. 

Oh, that’s hot. 

He’s definitely sobered up since Bucky ambushed him in the bathroom, but Steve is still not sober enough for this shit. 

Then again, even if he were, Sober Steve is too much of a disaster to handle this situation appropriately, anyway, so it really doesn’t matter. 

He’s listening to Bucky speak another language and blood is creeping to his cheeks and his dick and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it. 

Nat is looking at him differently now. 

Almost like she recognizes him, too. 

Her smile grows into something genuine and she says something back to Bucky in Russian that has Bucky shaking his head but smiling softly. 

Steve is still just standing here in front of these two sex symbols, gawking like a fucking idiot. 

Do something! 

“Uh,” he starts. 

It’s as much as he can offer. 

But it’s okay because Bucky swoops in and starts making small talk. Eventually, Steve finds his footing and can join in and it could just be the alcohol lingering in his system, but he thinks he’s managing to make sense and sound decent. 

Soon, though, Bucky mentions getting drinks and asks Steve to come help him even though there’s no reason Bucky should need help. 

Steve follows anyway, thoughts flying through his head too quickly for him to even comprehend. 

There’s a guy and a girl in the kitchen leaning against a counter, talking and laughing too loudly to be sober, so Bucky and Steve are quiet as they start looking through what’s left. 

The couple doesn’t seem to notice the two big guys that are now flanking them- Steve on one side looking through the bottles he can reach on the counter and Bucky on the other, digging through the fridge and some coolers- but Steve is hyper-aware of them and he’s not sure how obvious it even is, but he at least hopes no one is paying attention to the way his eyes keep drifting back to Bucky. 

He wonders if there’s ever going to be a time when he can go back to being in a room that Bucky’s also in and not have all of his attention stolen by the man. 

Although, if he’s honest, Bucky has been the focal point of his attention for a much longer time than he realized. 

Sometimes, though, it’s just easier to pretend that it only started a month ago in that locker room. 

The couple make their way out of the room after a minute or so and Steve waits patiently, knowing that Bucky’s about to start talking. 

“Nat obviously speaks English,” Bucky says softly, moving closer to start looking through the bottles of liquor on the counter. “But it’s not perfect and she doesn’t always understand what people say. She’s doing well, but she’s hesitant. She’s always worried she’ll look stupid but I don’t think she could even if she tried. But she likes to have some reassurance. Drunk college kids are easy enough for her to handle on her own, though. There’s not much complicated English being spoken at a place like this.”  

Bucky pauses as he starts reading some of the bottles’ labels. Steve watches him, and wonders what else he doesn’t know about Bucky. 

“She’s a dancer in the city,” Bucky continues, still scanning labels. “Mostly ballet. You should see her, Steve. I’ll have to find out if she has any shows coming up. Anyway, I met her through my cousin and we’ve been friends ever since.” 

Friends who fuck. 

But Steve can’t say much about that. 

It’s not like he hasn’t been sleeping with someone else. It’s not like he ever thought he was the only person Bucky was messing around with. 

“Yeah, that sounds nice, Buck,” Steve says honestly. “She’s great.” 

He really does like Nat. She’s sweet and funny and seemed truly happy to get to know a few details about Steve. Plus, there’s no doubt in his mind that she’s a good dancer. There’s just something about the way she moves that makes it obvious. 

And it was clear from watching her during their conversation that Bucky isn’t lying. 

Steve could tell he said some things that Nat didn’t quite get and every time, she would look up at Bucky with that same look on her face that she had when they were first surrounded at the door. And, every time, Bucky would give her that same little smile and murmur a few words in Russian that had her nodding and turning back to Steve with renewed focus and a smile. 

She wasn’t nervous- Steve thinks her confidence level is probably right around the same level as Bucky’s- but she was uncertain and looking at Bucky was her clarity. 

None of that makes Steve feel any better. 

Sort of the opposite, actually. 

Bucky and Nat might not be here as dates but they clearly adore each other and it’s impossible not to wonder how deep that adoration runs. 

He wants to believe Bucky when he says it’s not like that, but it’s entirely possible that Bucky just hasn’t realized it yet. 

Nat is everything that a guy could dream up and Steve is… Steve. 

If faced with the choice between Nat and himself, Steve knows who he’d choose. 

Not that I would even be one of the options, but still. 

The urge to get drunk is back in full force. 

“Yeah, she’s a good friend,” Bucky finally settles on a vodka and starts mixing a drink. “You got any single friends who aren’t pieces of shit, let me know. We can hook ‘em up.” 

Steve chuckles sort of awkwardly because he doesn’t really know if Bucky’s joking or not. He grabs a couple beers out of one of the coolers, frowning when he sees that all that’s left are the shitty brands. 

But that doesn’t matter much, because Steve’s goal is just to chug these and whatever else he can find in an effort to get back to his previous level of intoxication. 

Bucky hands him one of the drinks he’s been mixing and leans back against the counter, holding his cup out for Steve to tap with his own. 

“Cheers,” Bucky smiles. 

“Cheers,” Steve smiles back. 

Steve downs his drink, then sort of chokes because Bucky did not warn him that the drink is seventy-five percent vodka. 

Or, at least, that’s what it tastes like to Steve, who normally sticks to beer. 

Bucky watches with his eyebrows raised as he sips on his own drink. He doesn’t say anything, just watches Steve with curiosity, amusement, and a bit of concern. 

“I, uh, gotta get back to Sam,” Steve says once he’s done clearing his throat. 

“Oh. Yeah, okay,” Bucky says softly. “Thanks for meeting Nat.” 

“Yeah, of course. I like her.” 

Bucky smiles. “Everyone does. And I’m glad you guys like each other.”

Steve blinks because that implies that at some point in all that soft Russian murmuring, Nat and Bucky weren’t just discussing the meaning of a word. 

They were talking about him. 

“Oh,” Steve blinks again. “Oh, that’s- Yeah. I’m glad to hear that, too.” 

And he is. 

It feels important having Nat’s approval but he’s not sure why. 

Bucky’s warm gaze is back and Steve needs to run before he gets sucked in. 

“Well, uh, I better-“ Steve gestures over his shoulder with the hand holding two beer bottles by their necks, wincing as they clink together harshly. 

One of Bucky’s hands sneaks out and takes hold of Steve’s free hand. Steve doesn’t even pause to consider that anyone could walk in and see them. He just squeezes Bucky’s hand and lets himself be pulled in for a quick kiss on his cheek. 

“Will I see you again tonight?” Bucky asks once they’re separated.  

“I hope so,” Steve murmurs. Too honest, again. And a bad idea. He corrects himself. “Well, I- I don’t know. Probably not.” 

Bucky nods and offers a small smile. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Steve.” 

He can feel a blush creeping onto his cheeks now and his heartbeat speeds up. But he did just drink what seemed like a whole cup of pure vodka, so it’s probably from that. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Buck.” 

******

Except, they do see each other again. 

Steve- very reluctantly, he will admit- did walk away from Bucky to go find Sam. 

He also successfully got himself drunk enough that he didn’t know how he was going to get Sam or himself home. 

When they stumbled upstairs and outside to leave, they only made it to the sidewalk before they both ended up on the ground, laughing at who knows what. 

That’s when Bucky and Nat found them. 

Sam had stared up at both of them from where he was laying flat on his back, spread eagle, and simply said, “Oh, wow. So pretty.” 

Something Steve is extremely shocked he didn’t adamantly agree with. 

But he was too busy staring wide-eyed up at Bucky like he was seeing an angel or something. Bucky was smiling fondly down at him, so beautiful and warm, and Steve- even wasted- couldn’t get any words to come out.  

“You boys need help?” Nat smirked down at them with an eyebrow raised. 

So now, they’re in the back of Bucky’s car and Drunk Steve thinks this is simply the best and funniest thing that’s ever happened and can’t stop grinning. 

Bucky keeps throwing glances back at him through the mirror or over his shoulder and Steve very much wants to kiss the corner of his mouth that’s tilted up. 

Nat’s driving because apparently she didn’t drink tonight, and Sam keeps leaning up on the middle console to give very confusing directions even though Bucky has their address pulled up on his phone, which is giving much clearer instructions. 

Later, when he’s not completely intoxicated, Steve will be very grateful that Bucky was smart enough to ask for their address instead of accidentally making it obvious that he’s been to Sam and Steve’s apartment before. 

Now, he’s just meeting Bucky’s eyes through the mirror and giggling to himself because Bucky and he are the only ones in on the secret. 

When they finally pull up outside their building, Sam and Steve both try- incredibly unconvincingly- to assure Bucky and Nat that they can make it inside on their own. However, they both immediately trip over a parking block and Bucky manages to save Steve from ending up on the ground for a second time tonight, but there’s not much that tiny Nat can do for Sam besides try her best to get him back on his feet. 

Bucky has to prop Steve up against the car so he can help Nat and Steve would laugh but he’s annoyed that Bucky’s not holding him up anymore and then Bucky’s back so quickly and sliding his arm around Steve’s waist and pulling him close, and now Steve is having thoughts. 

Somehow, they make it to the door without further incident and, more amazingly, without Steve opening his fat mouth and saying something dumb as fuck. 

Sam and Steve again try to claim that they’re capable of a simple task- this one being unlocking their door. 

After about a minute of standing outside in the middle of a cold February night, it’s made very clear that they won’t have much success with this simple task either and Steve doesn’t miss the entertained look that Bucky and Nat share before Bucky gently pushes Sam and Steve aside and unlocks their door, rather efficiently, as Sam and Steve remain insistent that they were just about to get the key turned the right way.

Nat half-guides, half-pushes Sam through the door and he stumbles straight to their living room couch and collapses. Steve giggles again, swaying in the hallway as Bucky joins Nat in trying to convince Sam to actually go to bed. 

Sam can’t be persuaded and Nat sits herself on the arm of the couch and nods towards Steve. 

“Go help him. I’ll watch this one.” 

Bucky looks back over at Steve, who waves. 

Actually waves. 

Because Drunk Steve is even more of an idiot than Sober Steve. 

Bucky tries so valiantly to suppress his laugh, but he’s largely unsuccessful. It doesn’t matter though, because Steve just laughs too, despite not knowing what’s funny in the first place. 

“Alright, Rogers,” Bucky says, back at Steve’s side. “Show me to your room.” 

Steve makes a futile attempt to stifle a chuckle because Bucky and him are so sneaky, but he does compose himself enough to amble his way towards his bedroom. 

With Bucky following him, Steve is getting thoughts again. 

Thoughts like how nice Bucky’s lips feel. 

And how warm his body feels when it’s pressed up against Steve’s. 

They make it to Steve’s room and Steve trips multiple times because he forgot to turn on the light, but Bucky flicks it on for him and Steve sits on his bed- far less gracefully than he realizes- and tries to give Bucky a seductive look. 

“Come sit, Buck,” Steve slurs. 

But Bucky just gives Steve a warm little smile and it’s very pretty but not what Steve wants right now. 

“Buck,” he pats the bed beside him. “C’mere.” 

“Hang on, Steve,” Bucky says quietly as he turns to start going through Steve’s drawers. “Let’s get you out of those clothes, okay?” 

Oh, hell yes. 

That’s more like it. 

Enthusiastically, Steve starts stripping. He stands up to do it, though, and it turns out to be a bad idea because he loses balance when he tries to pull his shirt over his head and trips over his own foot. 

The only thing that keeps him from falling is the strong arm that catches him around his waist. 

“Easy, sugar. I got you.” He’s eased back down to the bed and then his shirt is pulled the way off and he’s looking up at Bucky, who’s smiling down at him. “We need to get you into something more comfortable.”

Bucky shows Steve the shirt and sweatpants he’s holding and Steve’s brows furrow. 

“You don’t wanna…” 

“You’re very drunk, sweetheart,” Bucky says softly as he pulls the new shirt over Steve’s head. 

“You drank,” Steve grumbles, not offering nearly enough help as Bucky gets his arms in the sleeves. 

“I did,” Bucky smiles, adjusting Steve’s shirt until it’s settled correctly. He looks up at Steve and scrunches his nose a little. It’s adorable. “I’m nowhere near your level, though.” 

“You dunno that.” 

“Steve, I had to help you walk in here.” 

Steve huffs. “Yeah, well…”

It’s a good point. 

Steve pouts. 

Bucky chuckles and gets down on one knee to start taking Steve’s shoes off. 

His mind is a little clearer than it was half an hour ago when he was laying on a sidewalk and now, watching Bucky slip his shoes and socks off, he’s aware of the warmth in his chest that he sometimes gets around Bucky. 

But mostly, he’s just focused on holding himself upright. 

There’s a moment when Bucky’s unbuttoning Steve’s jeans that their eyes meet and a rush of want flows throughout Steve’s body. Bucky just gives him a look, though, and Steve feels his face flush when Bucky quietly asks him to lift his hips up so he can pull the jeans off. 

If Steve were any less intoxicated, he’d be embarrassed at the half-erection he’s clearly sporting, but right now, he just frowns down at it. Bucky’s smirking a little when Steve looks back at him, but then he’s asking Steve to lift his foot so he can slide the sweatpants on and Steve lifts the wrong foot by mistake, which makes Bucky’s smirk turn into a full grin. 

After Steve’s fully dressed again, Bucky helps him up so he can pull the comforter back and lay back down on the bed. 

Steve tries to convince Bucky to join him one more time, only to get a playfully reprimanding look in return. 

He does manage to get Bucky to lean down to give him a quick peck, and when Bucky sits on the edge of the bed, Steve immediately rolls to his side to face him. 

“Go to sleep, Steve.”

“Stay.”

“Baby, you know I can’t.”

It’s quiet for a few moments. 

“Okay.” 

“Is it too bright?” Bucky asks after another pause. “You need me to turn off the light?” 

“No,” Steve shifts closer. “Stay a minute?” 

“A minute,” Bucky agrees, reaching up to brush his fingers through Steve’s hair. 

Steve sighs, pushing his head up into the touch and letting the tingling relaxation wash over him. 

He yawns again, and glances up in time to see Bucky’s fond smile. Suddenly, Steve is overwhelmed with the need to say something. 

“You’re so beautiful, Buck.” 

It comes out clearer and softer than expected and Bucky’s eyes widen a bit as his cheeks turn the prettiest pink. 

“Uh. Um. Thanks,” Bucky clears his throat. “Thank you. That’s… You need to get some rest, okay, sweetheart?” 

“‘Kay, Buck,” Steve murmurs. “G’night.” 

“Good night, Steve,” Bucky’s voice is soft. He stops running his fingers through Steve’s hair just long enough to take Steve’s hand and kiss it before gently laying it on the bed. 

Steve keeps gazing up into sparkling eyes but it’s only a few more seconds of Bucky’s fingers brushing through his hair until Steve’s eyes are fluttering closed. 

He tries to blink them open a few more times, not quite ready to cut off his time with Bucky, but he’s tired and Bucky’s fingers are doing an outstanding job of making him melt into the mattress. 

Steve’s asleep before he even knows it. 

Before he even gets to feel the soft, warm lips against his forehead. 

Waking up the next morning is hell. 

Yesterday’s Steve can go fuck himself because why in the hell did he think that drinking that much would be a good idea? 

Steve lays motionless, too worried that he’ll feel like throwing up if he gets up too soon. 

He stares at the ceiling and thinks of a list of all the things that could possibly go wrong after a night of getting wasted. 

He probably said or did something incredibly stupid and will have to deal with that at some point. There’s always a chance that he lost something. Did he at least manage to bring Sam back home with him? Also, he’s probably got some questionable substance on his clothes and he’s laying in his bed and he’ll have to wash and change everything and he just doesn’t feel like doing that shit today. 

With a sigh, he throws his comforter off and- 

Oh. 

He changed into something clean and comfortable before getting in bed. 

Nice. 

One look at his bedside table reveals that he still has his phone and wallet and one close listen to the sounds of their apartment reveals that Sam is fixing something in the kitchen. 

Cool. I didn’t lose anything, either. 

He even notices a glass of water and a bottle of pain medicine next to his phone. 

Maybe Yesterday’s Steve doesn’t need to go fuck himself. 

But then he realizes the water and pills probably are Sam’s doing and there’s still a big chance that he said or did something stupid, so jury’s still out on Yesterday’s Steve’s verdict. 

He chances getting up and is relieved when he doesn’t immediately have to reach for a waste bin. He gets the water and a couple pills for his hangover down without incident and grabs his phone before slowly making his way to the door to relieve his pleading bladder. 

He freezes with his hand on the doorknob though because he’s just looked at his phone and sees two texts from Bucky waiting on him. 

Flashes of memories run through his mind, hazy and incomplete but still enough, and Steve shuts his eyes and rests his forehead against the door. 

He remembers seeing Bucky with Nat at the party and hating it, remembers kissing Bucky in the bathroom, remembers Bucky introducing him to Nat, remembers their conversation in the kitchen, remembers seeing Bucky’s pretty smile above him as he laid on the ground, remembers Bucky’s arm around him as they walked to the door, remembers Bucky undressing him just to redress him. 

Okay. 

That’s not too bad. He’s seen you be more stupid than that. 

Nodding to himself, Steve checks the messages. 

The first one is from three in the morning and simply says, ‘You’re adorable btw.’ 

The next one is from an hour ago and just asks Steve to call Bucky when he’s feeling better. 

Steve texts back on his way to the bathroom just to let Bucky know that he’s alive and promises to call when it doesn’t feel like someone’s hammering a nail into the center of his forehead. 

Breakfast with Sam is actually more like lunch with Sam because it’s half-past noon by the time Steve joins the man in the kitchen. Sam, despite having been equally- if not more- drunk as Steve had been, seems to be feeling better and Steve has to sit through a cheery conversation about how nice it was of Bucky Barnes and ‘his girl’ to help them get home safely. 

“I don’t think they’re together,” Steve grumbles petulantly, ignoring the twisting feeling in his gut that he suspects might not have anything to do with his hangover.

“They will be in all my fantasies,” Sam mumbles back around a mouth full of toast. 

“You ever ask that guy out?” Steve blatantly changes the subject. “What was his name, again?” 

“No,” Sam shoots him a glare. 

“Weird name,” Steve smirks. 

“Go back to bed, Steve.” 

******

It’s Friday, but Steve’s class was canceled so he’s free to relax and even if it wasn’t canceled, he clearly would’ve slept through it anyway. After a couple hours spent lounging in the living room with Sam and talking about random things, Steve is finally feeling more like his usual self. 

Which means he gets to start worrying about things he probably doesn’t need to worry about. 

He goes back to his room and calls Bucky around six o’clock, giving himself more than enough time to work himself up about all the potential reasons Bucky wants Steve to call him. He wonders if he did do something stupid after all. 

When Bucky answers the phone, however, he actually sounds happy to hear from Steve. Apparently, he just wanted to talk. Just wanted to check in. 

Sometimes, Steve forgets they’re friends now, too. 

There’s a moment where they’re both quiet but it’s comfortable enough. 

Or it would be, if Steve’s loud thoughts would go away. 

“So, um,” Steve breaks the silence. “You, uh- You made some promises. The last time we… hung out.” 

“Yeah,” Bucky’s voice even rumbles through the phone. “I did.” 

“You ever gonna make good on ‘em?” 

Steve was hoping that would come out sounding smooth and confident. He missed his mark by a lot more than a little. 

“Come see me Sunday.” 

Steve can almost hear the look on Bucky’s face. At least, the look that he thinks would be on Bucky’s face if they were having this conversation in person. 

Bucky would be doing that half-smirk, half-smile thing. His eyes would be soft and impossibly warm for their wintery grey-blue. And sparkling. 

Can’t forget the fucking sparkling. 

“Yeah?” Steve says it so quietly that he’s surprised the phone picked it up. 

“Yeah,” Bucky whispers back. 

******

It’s no surprise that after they hang up forty minutes later, Steve instantaneously starts spiraling. 

Bucky didn’t exactly specify what they’d be doing on Sunday, but then again, he really didn’t need to. 

What the fuck that I just agree to? 

No. What the fuck did I just ask for? 

Maybe he’s not ready for this. 

Not in the sense that he doesn’t want to do it, just in the sense that he doesn’t know how to prepare for it. 

Is two days long enough to prepare yourself for first-time… anal… things? 

It should be.

Right? 

It’s not like he’s going all the way or anything. So, it can’t possibly be that complicated. 

Right? 

Almost like he’s sensing Steve’s impending breakdown, Bucky sends Steve a text. A couple, actually. 

They’re all links to articles about preparing and cleaning yourself. 

Well, all except the last message, which says, ‘Don’t worry yourself to death. It’s really not as intense as it seems and you can back out anytime. Let me know if you have questions’ 

Even with all the anxiety and uncertainty crawling through his veins, warm fondness sweeps through his body and Steve has to smile, if only the tiniest bit. 

He can do this. 

How hard can it be? 

It’s apparently really fucking hard. 

Steve reads through the articles and they’re all like, “Oh, it’s no big deal. Except it kind of is and if you don’t do it just right, you could not only hurt yourself, but also make it very easy to get yourself infected. Also, you could actually end up making the entire situation worse, but all you have to do is know the exact amount of fluid, pressure, and temperature needed and everything will be great! And, just FYI, you’re probably going to run into a mess regardless, but that’s nothing to worry or get embarrassed about!” 

He’s looked through everything Bucky sent him and a couple of things he found on his own and he still isn’t sure what to do. 

According to some articles, the enemas and douches are bad for you, but other articles still say they’re the best method to ensure that you get clean. 

But literal doctors say that a basic, simple washing is the best method. 

Regardless, he’s on his way to the nearest CVS. The one thing that was made crystal clear in every article is that lube is an absolute necessity and Steve has none because he’s never thought to use any before Bucky and even now, Bucky always supplies it. 

Bucky will probably supply it again on Sunday, but Steve needs to… try for himself first. 

So. 

When he walks in the store, he quickly scans the signs to see what aisle he needs to be in and then ducks his head as he briskly heads in that direction. 

He’s been in this aisle before, but he’s never paid attention to anything past the condoms. 

Standing here now, he’s a little surprised by the selection. Or, the selection that would be there if this wasn’t an area inhabited by horny college kids. There’s only a couple of each item left and some things are completely out of stock, but still. 

There are lubes and jellies and libido enhancers and- 

CVS sells vibrators now? 

Steve blinks and refocuses on the lube. He doesn’t really know if there’s a certain brand he should choose- his research didn’t go quite that far- but he does know what type of lube he wants to get and there’s only one silicone-based option available, so that decision is simple enough and Steve only hesitates for a second before grabbing it. 

He’s about to turn to go to the next aisle when a thought hits him. 

What if Bucky wants to use a toy instead of his fingers? 

Surely, that’s not what’s going to be happening. 

They’ll start with fingers, right? 

Even if toys are involved, Steve’s not going to be using them on himself during his… practice. And Bucky definitely already has options when it comes to lube. Steve has seen them, if only briefly. So, the bottle he has in his hand is good for now. 

He turns back and grabs a water-based lubricant, too, before leaving the aisle. 

Just in case. 

Steve is very glad that he seems to be the only horny college kid in need of an emergency CVS run right now because he has spent far too long staring at the enemas. 

Does he really need one? Would he be able to do it properly? Is it even something he could mess up?

You could mess anything up, Rogers.

It’s at least a little mollifying to know that assholes actually aren’t typically as dirty as one would think, according to the “sexperts” and doctors in the articles. He doesn’t understand how that could be true, but he’s not a doctor. 

Or a sexpert. 

Maybe Steve is overthinking this. 

He’s a very hygienic person as is. 

There’s a strong likelihood that he already cleans himself better than the average man. 

And he can definitely add a couple steps to his normal routine if that’s all it takes to be prepared for something like this. 

Steve presses his lips together and furrows his brows. 

He snatches one of the rectal syringes because the box says it’s specifically for cleansing and also because it’s less intimidating and then he makes a beeline for the self checkout. 

Not that the sole employee he’s seen gives a single fuck what he’s got in his hands. They haven’t even moved from their spot behind one of the registers, staring blankly down a random aisle. 

Honestly, it’s fifty-fifty on whether they even know Steve is in here. 

Steve scans his items and double bags them in case he runs into someone and they can see through the plastic. 

He makes a face when he sees his total, but he’d rather go into this with even the most minuscule amount of preparation and knowing what to expect. 

Still. 

I need to start taking commissions again if this becomes a regular thing. 

When he’s walking back into his apartment, he tries to look as casual as possible but it’s unnecessary because Sam has left a note saying that he tried calling Steve to let him know that he’ll be out all night and he even wrote the address down if Steve wants to join. 

Steve looks at his phone and sees a missed call and text from Sam with the same information as the note, but truthfully, Steve could not have asked for this to work out any better. 

He has the place to himself, at least for a while, and he’s free to experiment in peace. 

He makes sure to send Sam a message saying he’ll stay home and asking Sam to let him know when or if he’ll be back tonight and if he needs a ride. 

Then, he heads straight to the shower. 

******

Afterwards, when he’s thoroughly cleaned, Steve does what the articles suggested and lays a towel out on the bed, grabs the silicone-based lube, and lays down. 

Getting started is weird. 

He tries not to let himself have any time to think himself into a frenzy, so he just immediately gets some lube on his finger and reaches between his legs. 

He jerks a little at his own touch, foreign and a little cool, but mostly it’s just… a touch. 

It doesn’t feel intimate yet. 

In fact, it almost feels procedural, the way that Steve is going about this. 

So he lets the touch turn into a gentle massaging, then more of a careful pressure against his hole. 

And it’s not bad. 

It’s actually sort of relaxing. 

But he hasn’t really gotten started yet, so he takes a deep breath and starts adding some pressure. 

Oh. 

It’s not quite the same feeling as when Bucky had teased his hole, but it’s close. 

It’s good. 

Feeling a little more confident, Steve gets some more lube and decides to go big or go home. 

And immediately realizes that is not the way to approach this. 

He’s kind of just slipped his finger in without working up to it and the articles said that this shouldn’t be a painful process so that’s how Steve knows he’s fucked it up. 

Carefully, he pulls his finger out and takes a second to recollect himself. 

That was dumb. 

Steve can admit that. But he’s not discouraged. Not entirely, at least. 

He goes back to the gentle massaging because that was working for him. 

His dick isn’t hard or anything, but how could it be with the way all his body and mind are overwhelmed by the unfamiliarity of what he’s doing to himself? 

It’s a while of just this. Just Steve’s finger stroking over his hole, tracing circles around it, pressing down lightly. 

After some time, it starts to feel a little more than relaxing. It starts to feel almost good and Steve feels tension seeping out of his body. 

That’s your cue. 

Slowly, carefully, Steve lets a fingertip start to sink inside himself. 

Huh. 

It… 

It’s strange, definitely. But only because it’s a new feeling, not because it’s bad or uncomfortable.

It truly doesn’t hurt, something Steve knew was supposed to be true but was skeptical of, anyway. 

Now, it doesn’t really feel good, either. 

For the most part, it just… is. 

He pushes in a little deeper, wondering what he’s doing wrong. It’s more of a stretch, but still not exactly a discomfort. Actually, the stretch is kind of good. 

Steve gets as much of the finger in as he can manage at this angle and remembers the next step is actually moving it. 

So, he starts by cautiously rubbing his inner walls and- 

Oh. Okay. 

There’s something to that. Something that stirs something low in his belly. 

Holy fuck, is he actually getting somewhere? 

Encouraged, he puts a little more pressure behind it and feels his mouth drop in surprise when it ends up feeling pretty damn nice. 

He spends a while massaging his insides, letting his eyes close as he focuses on any certain stroke of his finger that feels better than another. 

It takes a while, but he finally feels brave enough to pull out a bit and carefully slide back in and fuck. 

His dick still isn’t hard but it’s certainly intrigued, a little more full than it was when he started. 

He has no idea how long it is before he thinks he can manage taking another finger, but eventually, he gets there and pulls out so he can get some more lube. 

The second finger brings a bit more of a burn with it, but Steve still wouldn’t call it painful. When he starts rubbing himself again, his dick chubs up a little more and Steve starts breathing a little heavier. 

He carefully spreads his fingers inside himself and that pulls a small, surprised noise from the back of his throat.

His left hand- which was previously gripping the comforter- reaches up and starts toying with his cock until it’s fully hard and then starts slowly pumping it. 

Okay. 

This… 

This is good. 

It’s not really the mindblowing, orgasmic, life-changing experience that the articles portrayed it to be, but it’s nice. 

It’s new. 

Adds a little something. 

His right arm is a bit strained from the position he’s in but it’s not too bad and certainly not enough to make him stop. 

He tips his head back against the pillow and lets his eyes drift closed, working himself over at a steady pace. 

When he’s close to coming, he starts clenching around his fingers and it shocks him the first time, but every time after that, a soft, breathy moan slips past his lips. 

And it’s not much longer before he’s spilling over his fist and stomach with a gasp, both from the tight grip of his ass around his fingers and from the suddenness of it all. 

Carefully, he pulls his fingers out and wipes them on the towel beneath him, then stares wide-eyed up at the ceiling like he does every time he learns something new about himself. 

Steve lays like that until his phone buzzes somewhere beside him and stirs him into action. 

It’s just a Snapchat from a girl that’s mostly just a friend to one of his friends so he ignores it for now and gradually sits up. 

He’s very… wet in places he’s not used to being wet and he doesn’t know if he’s the biggest fan of that feeling. And he also feels loose which is very, very strange and he moves stiffly to the edge of the bed, making sure to keep the towel underneath him so he doesn’t have to wash lube off anything else. 

Thankfully, he’s not feeling any sort of pain or soreness. 

At least, not yet. 

Maybe it’s too soon to tell that. 

But he thinks if he had done any sort of damage or caused a tear, he’d have felt it or would be feeling it by now, so he thinks he’s in the clear for that.  

Once he gets more used to the unfamiliarity of a slightly stretched hole covered in lube, he stands up and makes sure he didn’t make a mess on anything besides the towel and himself, then heads to the bathroom. He hops in the shower and thoroughly cleans himself out again, feeling dazed. 

He just did that. 

He… liked that.

It wasn’t what he thought it would be. He figured it would be a little more… something. It was good, but not quite great. 

Maybe he should’ve done more. Maybe he will tomorrow before he sees Bucky. 

At least he got a feel for it. At least he knows it can feel good. 

And if he managed to make it feel good, then he knows that Bucky will probably be able to make it feel amazing, so maybe he shouldn’t judge it too soon. 

That is, if Steve can get over the abject mortification that he already feels just thinking about letting someone touch him like that and see him so vulnerable. 

But it’s Bucky, not just someone. 

In the back of his mind, though, Steve wonders if that makes it worse.

It feels awfully intimate to do that with someone. And that level of intimacy with Bucky feels sort of dangerous. 

Maybe Steve needs to do this with someone else. 

Except, he doesn’t have someone else. 

Plus, someone else wouldn’t take care of him the way that Bucky would. Someone else might not do everything in his power to make Steve comfortable, ease his worries. Someone else might not be as understanding as Bucky, might not take it so well if Steve backed out. 

Someone else wouldn’t have that stormy pair of gorgeous, watchful eyes. Could never duplicate that soft, crooked smile. 

And how could Steve feel any type of comfort if he didn’t have that smile and those eyes to look up into? 

It’s awkward at Bucky’s on Sunday. 

Well. 

No. 

That’s not fair. 

Steve is awkward at Bucky’s on Sunday. 

All he can think about is how often he’s been- ahem- cleaning himself since Friday, how he’s run a couple of his own experiments now that all had the same result- good, not great- and how he shaved… down there because he wasn’t really sure if he was supposed to do that or what Bucky would prefer, so now he’s worried that he’ll look weird. 

And shaving was a nightmare because Steve has never done it before and trying to figure out the right fucking angle while also trying not to cut yourself was a struggle that he’s not looking forward to going through again. 

He gets why people wax now. 

Anyway, he’s sitting on Bucky’s couch with his hands on his knees and his eyes glued to the TV and about three feet of space between him and Bucky. 

Bucky’s eyes are on him. 

Steve is very aware of that. 

He’s also aware that there’s probably a smirk curling the right side of Bucky’s mouth and as tempting as that is, he doesn’t turn his head to see if he’s right. 

There’s a sigh off to his side and Steve tries to hide his grimace. 

“Steve.” 

“Hm? Yeah?” 

“You know you don’t have to-“ 

“I know,” Steve interrupts too loudly and winces. It takes everything in him to look at Bucky. “I- Um. Sorry, I just… Okay, look. I know I’m being weird.” 

To his credit, Bucky doesn’t even make a ‘ Yeah, No Shit’ face. 

“Have I made you uncomfortable?” Bucky actually looks worried. 

Steve blinks. “What? No.” 

“You sure?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. 

“Buck.” Steve fixes Bucky with a look. “You have never once given me any reason to feel uncomfortable. Honestly, I… I probably don’t deserve the patience and kindness you’ve shown me. So… yeah.” 

“You do,” Bucky says softly. 

Steve’s eyes had dropped to stare at a random place on the couch, but they look up at Bucky now. 

His whole face is as soft as his voice. It’s sweet and kind and beautiful and suddenly, Steve feels silly for letting himself get so worked up already. 

“We don’t have to do anything,” Bucky murmurs. 

“No, I want to.” Steve shuffles his way to Bucky’s side. “Please? I’m sorry. I just was thinking too much. You know how I get.” 

Bucky chuckles at that, one hand reaching up to trail down Steve’s arm. 

“Please, Bucky?” Steve continues because Bucky hasn’t moved yet. “Make me stop thinking for a bit.” 

A slow, mischievous smile grows on Bucky’s lips. Steve licks his lips in response, fully focused on the man in front of him now. 

“Let’s go to my room.” 

It sounds weird, but Steve has never been in Bucky’s bedroom before. Everything they do is done right here on this couch. 

“Oh,” Steve pauses. “Okay.” 

So, they get up and Steve lets Bucky take his hand and lead him down the hall. Steve’s not sure what he’s expecting, but he’s a bit surprised by what he sees. 

“Oh,” he blurts once the light is turned on. “You have, like… an adult room.” 

“Did you assume I sleep in a nursery?” 

Steve shoots Bucky an exasperated look. “Ha-ha. I mean it's really nice and your bed is, like, in the middle of the room.” 

A pause. 

“Yep.” 

“Well,” Steve scratches his neck. “I just thought most people our age have their bed pushed against the wall. Probably for more room… or whatever.” 

You absolute fucking loser. 

“Hm. Interesting,” Bucky fights back a smile. “Hey, how about you stop talking about the bed and get on it?” 

Steve is bright red at this point. Heavily cursing himself in his mind, Steve goes over to the bed and sits on the edge of it, staring down at the floor in embarrassment. 

Both of Bucky’s hands cup Steve’s jaw and gently tilt his head back up. Thumbs start stroking along his cheekbones and Steve can feel his face softening as he meets Bucky’s gaze. 

There’s a few moments where they just look at each other, but then Bucky’s leaning down and Steve is stretching his neck as far up as he can get to meet him halfway. 

The kiss is slow and sweet. 

He doesn’t know how Bucky manages to melt the tension every single time without fail, but he loves it, wants to swim in that feeling until he drowns in it. 

Bucky’s hands sneak down to the hem of Steve’s shirt and start tugging it up until they have to break the kiss to get it over Steve’s head. Once it’s off, he gives Steve one more kiss and leans back to look him over. 

“There’s my pretty boy,” Bucky murmurs, reaching up to thumb at Steve’s pouty bottom lip. 

To say that he gets butterflies would have to be a massive understatement, but those are the only words Steve knows to describe that feeling in his gut. 

He also gets shivers and a fluttering heart. 

Plus, some goosebumps. 

And a fattening dick. 

Must be Christmas or something. 

“Buck,” he breathes. 

“Think you can relax for me, baby?” 

Steve nods enthusiastically. 

“Yeah?” Bucky smiles. “Get in the middle of the bed for me, sweetheart.” 

He won’t say that he scrambles to get to the middle of the bed. 

But, maybe he scurries. 

When he gets settled, he sees Bucky pulling his own shirt off and revealing those thick muscles that Steve hasn’t gotten to touch in what feels like ages. 

He watches Bucky as he grabs a bottle of lube, a towel that very clearly was set on the dresser for this exact purpose, some tissues, and a little box of… something that Steve can’t make out yet. 

Steve helps Bucky get the towel spread underneath him, but his eyes keep wandering back to the box because now that Bucky’s tossed it on the bed near him, Steve is fairly certain that he sees “co-” but can't make out the rest of the word and he’s trying to figure out if he needs to panic. 

But then Bucky crawls on the bed and the box shifts and Steve sees that it says “finger cots” and not 'condoms' and he can breathe a little easier. 

Except, now Steve’s wondering what would happen if they both knew that the other was clean. In truth, they probably should have been using condoms to begin with. They’ve each had the other’s dick and cum in their mouth and down their throat, so probably not the best way to practice sexual health. But maybe Steve could make Bucky feel better by going to get tested. He’s pretty sure that the health center does the testing for free. He wonders if they take walk-ins. If so, he could go-

“Hey,” Bucky pouts, hovering over Steve now. “You said you’d relax.” 

“I am relaxed,” Steve smiles, eyeing Bucky’s large frame caging him in. “I can think and be relaxed.” 

“Most people can think and be relaxed,” Bucky argues, leaning down to nip Steve’s bottom lip. “I’m not sure that you can.” 

“Very funny. Aren’t you supposed to be making me feel good or something like that?” 

Bucky’s lips are back on his and he carefully lowers himself until his body is pressing on Steve’s. Steve can feel Bucky’s erection pressing against him and it reawakens Steve’s own dick, so he grinds up against Bucky to get a little more friction. Bucky rolls his hips down firmly, pushing Steve back in place and Steve moans into Bucky’s mouth. 

“Yeah, I’ll make you feel good, sweetheart,” Bucky whispers against Steve’s lips. 

Bucky sets off on his mission to make Steve feel good, trailing kisses down Steve’s chest, flicking his tongue over Steve’s nipples, licking a path down to Steve’s waistband, pulling off the rest of Steve’s clothes, kissing and licking at Steve’s dick before sucking on his balls. 

He’s doing such a good job of making Steve feel good that Steve damn near forgets what the real mission is until Bucky is pulling off his dick with a wet popping noise and sitting up between Steve’s legs. 

Steve watches, panting and heavy-lidded, as Bucky grabs his supplies and looks up at Steve. 

“Still good?” 

Steve nods.

“Still wanna do this?” 

Steve nods again, swallowing thickly. “Yes.” 

Bucky nods back, lightly pulling at Steve’s legs until they’re bent and spread the way he wants them. 

“Oh, fuck. Look at you,” Bucky breathes, meeting Steve’s gaze. “You shaved for me, sweetheart?” 

Steve is back to being fire-engine red and now he’s blinking up at Bucky’s ceiling but Bucky’s ceiling doesn’t offer him the same comfort as the ceiling in Steve’s room. 

There’s a warm pair of lips pressing against the inside of one of his knees and Steve tears his eyes away from the ceiling to look down at Bucky, who’s watching him intently. 

“Baby, you don’t have to do this.” 

“I know,” Steve says, voice unsteady. “I want to.” 

Bucky hesitates. 

“Bucky, I’m just nervous,” Steve reasons, somehow managing to sound a little reassuring. “It’s okay. I want to.”

“Close your eyes.” 

What? 

“What?” 

“You trust me?” Bucky strokes Steve’s dick absentmindedly. 

“Yes.” 

“Close your eyes, Steve.” 

Steve does. 

And Bucky just starts trailing his fingertips along the inside of Steve’s thighs, around his dick, up his abs, across his nipples, back down to the cut of his hips. Bucky’s fingers leave tingles and goosebumps in their wake, sending pleasant chills up Steve’s spine. Steve catches one of his wrists at some point and brings it up to his lips to give it a kiss, which earns him an affectionate squeeze on his thigh that leaves him smiling softly. 

“I’m ready,” Steve whispers, eyes still closed, when it becomes too much and his body is yearning for more. 

Bucky doesn’t question him this time.

Almost immediately, Bucky’s left hand is resting at the base of Steve’s dick, thumb reaching down to massage that soft, sensitive area between his balls and his hole. Steve can hear the lube being snapped open and then there’s a cool, thick liquid running from his balls down his crack. 

Steve’s breaths have picked up again, but he’s keeping his eyes closed and trying his best to ease the tension out of his body again. 

“I got you, baby,” Bucky murmurs. “You’re okay, Steve. Gonna touch you now, okay?” 

Steve nods shakily and a small, pitiful noise falls out of Steve’s mouth as Bucky begins to spread the lube around, purposefully avoiding Steve’s hole but only by the tiniest bit, skirting just past the edges and making Steve tremble with anticipation. 

Finally, Bucky lets his finger graze more and more over Steve’s hole until Steve is whining with every brush of a fingertip. 

“Ready?” Bucky’s voice sounds rough. 

“Yeah,” Steve rasps back. 

Bucky presses down, not enough to push inside but enough to make it clear to Steve’s body that he’s about to, and starts rubbing circles around the rim. 

Steve’s face is fire hot and he can’t quite stop himself from squirming, but Bucky’s doing a good job of holding Steve as steady as possible. 

Slowly, he starts pushing the tip of his finger in and Steve holds his breath until Bucky pinches the meat of his thigh. 

“Breathe.” 

It takes a moment, but Steve is finally able to convince himself that Bucky knows what he’s doing and Bucky won’t judge him and this could be good if he’d just let it be good. 

So he breathes. 

And he somehow gets his mind to shut up long enough to let his body lose some of its stiffness. 

“Good boy,” Bucky murmurs, leaving more kisses across Steve’s skin. “Perfect, baby. Thank you.” 

Then, Bucky’s finger is sliding in steadily and deep and Steve can’t help the little whine that slips out. 

One thing he didn’t account for during his ‘practice’ was that Bucky’s fingers are thicker than his own. 

It’s not by much, but it’s enough that Steve can tell an immediate difference. 

That, and he’s also just realizing that he’s going to feel Bucky more regardless because Bucky has a much better angle at this and getting his entire finger inside of Steve is obviously much easier than it is for Steve to do to himself. 

“Okay?” Bucky checks in once his finger is in all the way to the base. 

“Y-yeah,” Steve manages. His breaths are uneven again, but for an entirely different reason. 

“Alright.” 

When Bucky’s finger starts moving inside him, Steve’s eyes fly open and his hand shoots down to grab Bucky’s wrist. 

“Ste-“ 

“No, no, no,” Steve rushes. “It’s good. You’re good. I just- It- I-“ 

-just wasn’t expecting it to feel like that. 

Steve can’t believe how different it feels when someone else is doing this. Bucky’s touch is more confident and purposeful, none of the hesitation that Steve had. 

And it feels so much better. 

Like… 

This is what Steve was expecting. This is what the articles were talking about. 

“Okay,” Steve exhales. “Sorry. I just… You surprised me is all. It didn’t feel like that when I-“ 

Oh, fuck. 

“You… You did this?” Bucky licks his lips, eyes fixed on Steve’s. “To yourself?” 

Steve’s furious blush answers the question for him. 

“Oh, God, Steve,” Bucky breathes. “So fucking hot.” 

After another brief moment to make sure Steve’s ready again, Bucky starts up again and Steve notices that his dick is definitely more interested in Bucky’s work than it was in Steve’s. 

He’s almost halfway hard already, just from the first motions of Bucky’s one finger. 

Or maybe it’s just because Bucky is near his dick. 

Either way, Steve’s down with it. 

Bucky keeps working his finger in Steve and Steve keeps breathing, and it’s not as long as Steve was expecting before he starts feeling his body loosen up for Bucky. 

And it’s still very strange. 

The simple feel of something inside him, that gentle stretch. 

He’s not used to it, yet. 

Maybe it’s something the body never fully gets used to. 

But it’s definitely not a bad thing. 

In fact, Steve is feeling pretty fucking good right now. 

So good that he kind of loses track of time until Bucky nudges his knee and Steve has to blink his eyes open- not even really aware that he closed them again- to look up at him. 

“You’re ready for another,” Bucky says gently. Steve sort of likes that it’s not a question. “You want to keep going or do you just want one today?” 

“Want it,” Steve rasps. “Want more.” 

“I can do that,” Bucky’s smile is soft. “You’re doing real good, sugar. You know that?” 

“Yeah?” Steve whispers, eyes roaming over Bucky, shirtless and beautiful between his legs. 

“Yeah, Steve. Taking it so well.” 

Steve hums, craning his neck to try to get a better view as Bucky pours more lube on his latex-covered fingers and Steve’s ass. 

Bucky gets his second finger lined up and locks eyes with Steve. 

He doesn’t ask if Steve’s ready again, but he does wait until Steve is wiggling with anticipation, pleading with his eyes, and breathing out the world’s softest and shyest “please”. 

Their eyes stay glued to the other’s face as Bucky pushes back in with both fingers and Steve isn’t sure what Bucky sees, but whatever it is has his lips parting and his pupils getting bigger.

“Buck,” Steve sighs, head dropping back against the pillow. 

“Feel good, sweetheart?” 

“Yeah,” Steve nods. 

Bucky chuckles and it makes Steve smile.

Thirty minutes ago, Steve was a nervous mess. Now, he’s got another man’s fingers in his ass and his dick is hard and he’s smiling. 

He wonders if there will ever be a way he can properly thank Bucky for everything that he gives Steve. All the patience, kindness, guidance, pleasure. 

It’s unfair that everyone doesn’t get a Bucky. 

At the same time, Steve likes that not everyone gets this. Of course, he’s not naive enough to think that nobody else has had Bucky like this. 

There’s probably a couple guys on campus who get to say that Bucky was their first time and they got to see how fucking sweet this man is, how devoted he is to making sure his partner is comfortable and feeling good. 

“Wanna kiss you,” Steve mumbles, surprising himself. 

Bucky’s cheeks turn a light pink, but he’s already shifting to brace himself on his free hand and Steve sits himself up on his elbows to get a little closer. 

They meet in the middle, Bucky’s fingers still moving inside Steve as their lips press together. 

Steve moans into the kiss, especially when Bucky starts pumping his fingers faster. 

But then. 

Then he crooks his fingers and shifts his angle and- 

“Fuck!” 

Steve gasps from the sudden jolt of pleasure and his hips jerk up, making Bucky’s fingers tug at his rim, which isn’t entirely unpleasant but is probably at least ninety-two percent painful. 

“Hey. Hey, easy,” Bucky soothes, leaning back and pinning Steve with his hand again. “I can make you feel real good, but it’s going to hurt if you keep moving like that.” 

Steve pants, staring down at the hand inside him in shock. 

That didn’t happen when I did this.  

“Think you can do that for me?” Bucky continues. “Think you can try to be still?” 

“I-“ Steve swallows. “Fuck. Sorry. Yeah. Okay. Yeah, I can. I can do that.” 

He probably can’t do that. 

But he is very much wanting Bucky to do that again. 

“Alright.” Bucky gets back to work, one hand gently pressing him down against the bed and the other starts moving inside him again but is carefully avoiding that spot. “Ready?” 

“Ready,” Steve breathes. 

It’s half true. 

When Bucky brushes over that spot again, Steve doesn’t buck like last time but he isn’t still either, writhing and whining. 

Bucky doesn’t fault him for that, at least, just keeps a strong hold on Steve’s hips until Steve is feeling so good that his body goes weak and melts into the bed with a sigh. 

“Mhm,” Bucky hums. 

Steve feels Bucky moving to settle himself on his stomach between Steve’s legs but he only looks down when he feels a wet stripe being licked up his- very hard- dick. 

“Bucky,” Steve moans. 

There’s no answer, just the feeling of his balls being sucked while Bucky’s stroking that sensitive spot inside him. 

The noises Steve is making gradually get breathier and higher in pitch until they’re mostly just whines.  

“Can I give you one more?” Bucky pulls off, licking his spit off his lips.  “Think you can take three, sweetheart?” 

Steve can’t think much at all, really. 

But more always sounds good if it’s Bucky asking, so he nods, looking down at Bucky with heavy-lidded eyes. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Want more.” 

“My sweet boy,” Bucky kisses Steve’s thigh. “So perfect for me. Every time, Steve.” 

Steve makes a soft noise at that, reaching with a shaky hand to cup Bucky’s jaw. Bucky leans into it, then presses a kiss to Steve’s palm before grabbing the lube to slick up one more finger. 

The stretch from three of Bucky’s fingers is the closest thing to pain that Steve has felt during all of this, aside from his own brief fuck-ups. 

It burns, even though he’s been loosened up. 

He grimaces and his erection might flag a bit, but it’s truthfully not that bad once he gets used to the fullness of it. 

His hole clenches around Bucky a couple times, and that steals the breath right out of him each time and makes him feel a little crazed because why is that so good? 

And when Bucky starts rubbing all three fingers over that one spot, Steve is turned right back into a puddle on Bucky’s bed. 

Still, it’s only when Bucky starts licking and kissing at his dick that Steve starts to feel his orgasm approaching. 

“Bucky.” It’s hard to recognize his own voice from the roughness. “Buck.” 

Bucky’s only response is to shift up so he can take the head of Steve’s cock in his mouth and start sucking. 

“Fuck, Buck, I-“ Steve gets cut off by his own moan. “I’m gonna- Oh.” 

It’s so much. 

It’s too much. 

Bucky’s fingers in him, Bucky’s mouth on him. 

Everywhere and everything is Bucky right now and Steve just can’t hold out anymore. 

He comes with Bucky’s tongue flicking his slit and Bucky’s fingers massaging his prostate, and it’s the most intense orgasm he’s had in a long time. 

Maybe ever.

He moans and writhes through it, then trembles through Bucky’s continued stimulation even after Steve has nothing left to give him. 

Bucky stops sucking when Steve starts tugging on his hair but licks and kisses Steve all over while his fingers keep pumping leisurely as he gradually weans Steve down from his high.  

Bucky’s very careful as he eases his fingers out of Steve, but Steve still grunts and makes a displeased noise at that wet, loose, empty feeling between his legs. 

That’s when all of Steve’s insecurity and anxiety starts creeping back in. 

His breaths pick up again and his fists curl in the towel beneath him as he tries not to start freaking out. 

But then Bucky’s hovering over him, leaning down, kissing him so softly that it almost feels out of place but Steve isn’t complaining. 

It’s just what he needs and his fingers uncurl from the towel so that his hands can come up to cup Bucky’s jaw as he gives short, sweet kisses to Steve. 

When Steve sighs into one of the kisses, he feels Bucky’s lips start to spread into a small smile. 

“You good, baby?” Bucky murmurs against Steve’s lips, kissing him a little deeper before he lets Steve answer. 

“Yeah,” Steve whispers back once Bucky pulls back. “Sorry. I’m good. That was good.” 

“You say ‘sorry’ too much,” Bucky nips Steve’s lips. 

“Sorry,” Steve smiles up at him. 

Bucky makes a face at him, then pulls back to sit back on his calves, eyes roaming over Steve’s body as he removes the finger cots and wipes his hands off on Steve's towel. 

Steve’s own eyes are drawn to the tent in Bucky’s pants. 

When he looks up, Bucky is already staring at him and that hungry look is back in his eyes. 

“Wanna suck it?” Bucky asks, palming himself. 

Steve blushes but he swallows and nods firmly. 

He confuses Steve by backing off entirely but then he’s standing at the edge of the bed and gesturing to the space before him. 

“Come here,” Bucky says. 

So, Steve starts crawling towards him- highly aware of the very weird feeling of moving with a slick, loose hole- and he assumes he’s just going to be on his knees or stomach but Bucky stops him with a hand on his shoulder and Steve looks up at him with furrowed brows. 

“On your back,” Bucky murmurs. 

Steve blinks but then it clicks in his mind and he knows exactly what Bucky is asking for. 

“Oh,” he breathes. 

“Is that okay?” Bucky’s fingers run through Steve’s hair.

“Yeah,” Steve whispers, shifting to get in position and hoping he doesn’t look as clumsy and awkward as he feels. 

He gets settled and scoots himself closer to Bucky, head tipped over the edge of the bed. 

Bucky must have slid his pants down while Steve was turning over, because he’s already got his dick in his hand, stroking himself. 

He lines his dick up with Steve’s mouth and asks one more time if Steve is okay, even though it’s entirely pointless because Steve is in the process of trying to pull Bucky’s cock in his mouth. 

Bucky laughs softly at Steve’s impatient ‘yes’ and pushes forward into Steve’s mouth with a soft groan. 

It’s definitely different, in Steve’s opinion, sucking on a dick upside down. Steve almost feels like he’s relearning where Bucky’s favorite spots are and it takes him a second to smooth out his movements, but he figures himself out pretty quickly and it turns into the same heady experience it usually is. 

Gentle hands take hold of Steve’s jaw after a minute and keep him still, letting him happily suck on the bit of Bucky’s dick he currently has in his mouth. 

“Wanna see how deep you can take it like this?” 

Bucky’s voice is rough and sends a pleasant little shiver down Steve’s spine. 

The moan that vibrates around Bucky’s cock is a very clear response and Bucky does push in a little deeper, but pauses, grabbing one of Steve’s hands and moving it so that it’s grabbing Bucky’s thigh. 

“Tap, squeeze, hit me, whatever you need to do if you need me to stop. Tap twice if that’s good with you.” 

Oh. 

Is he gonna…? 

Steve taps Bucky’s thigh twice. 

Bucky waits a second before he starts pushing forward again, going slow and giving Steve time to adjust his jaw as he goes. 

Steve gags a little bit, but Bucky pulls back a bit each time and lets him recover before trying again and Steve is surprised by how much of Bucky’s length he can fit like this. 

Breathing starts to require more and more focus, but that actually makes it easier, distracting Steve from the huge dick that’s now pushing past the back of his throat. 

“There you go,” Bucky says, sounding proud. “Just like that, Stevie.” 

Steve hums around Bucky, breathing through his nose as Bucky slips in even deeper, and tries to picture what he looks like to Bucky as he feels his bottom lip come in contact with pubic hair. 

He’s interrupted from his mental images when he finally realizes that he’s all the way at Bucky’s base. 

He… 

He has Bucky’s entire dick in his mouth. 

And he’s not even choking. 

Or freaking out. 

That’s… Steve is… proud of himself. 

One of Bucky’s hands lands softly on his throat, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin there and making Steve whine. 

“Fuck, that’s good, Steve,” Bucky rasps, using his other hand to wipe at some drool sneaking out of the corner of Steve’s mouth. 

And then Bucky is gently pulling back and pushing back in. 

It’s a lot, and Steve gags a little again, so Bucky apologizes and tries to back off but Steve’s other hand flies up to grip Bucky’s other leg and keep him where he’s at, urging him to do it again. 

So, Bucky starts carefully thrusting again and eventually, Steve’s gags start sounding less worrisome and become less frequent. 

There are tears streaming out of his eyes- despite them being squeezed shut- and rolling down his temples and into his hair, but Steve doesn’t mind. 

He wants to do this for Bucky. 

Wants to make Bucky proud, make him feel good. 

A little discomfort on his end isn’t going to stop him. 

Steve gets lost in it, especially when Bucky starts losing some of that careful rhythm he’s set and the hand on his neck flexes and adds pressure around Steve’s throat that leaves him moaning. 

Not long after, Bucky’s slipping out of Steve’s mouth and Steve is gasping, chest heaving as Bucky jerks himself over Steve’s face. 

It’s another second, and then Steve is being covered in come from his neck to his cheek, some drops landing on his lips and chin, dripping down towards his mouth which is still parted as he tries to catch his breath. 

Above him, Bucky is breathing heavily and cursing softly, and Steve always likes when Bucky loses composure like that. 

After Bucky milks the last drop of his come out, he feeds his dick back in Steve’s mouth, just enough for Steve to suck the head. Steve slowly twists over to his stomach, keeping Bucky in his mouth, then sinking deeper once he has the leverage. 

Bucky grunts but doesn’t make any effort to move apart from petting Steve’s hair, so Steve stays like that until all the blood that had rushed to his head clears out and Steve can think a little clearer. 

He pulls off, wiping spit and come off his mouth before attempting to sit up, only to be halted by Bucky’s hand on his shoulder. 

“Damn, baby,” Bucky breathes when Steve looks up at him. He wipes some more come off Steve’s face, then orders him to go lay down, and it sounds like a really good idea so Steve crawls back towards the pillows and promptly collapses on his back. 

Bucky doesn’t join immediately. 

Instead, he goes to get a clean towel and some wipes, cleaning Steve thoroughly before he disappears again and Steve can hear him washing his hands. 

Bucky’s yawning when he comes back in the bedroom but his eyes are sharp as ever when he looks Steve over. 

“How you doing, Rogers?” 

“Good,” Steve rasps back, throat already feeling sore and brain already missing being called ‘baby’. He smiles lazily, anyway. “C’mere.” 

Bucky climbs on the bed and settles beside Steve, still watching him carefully. Steve nudges Bucky’s shoulder until Bucky gets the hint and holds his arm out for Steve to rest his head on. 

Steve curls against him instantly and Bucky holds him without hesitation, kissing Steve’s forehead and running his fingers along Steve’s spine. 

“You know, if you want, we could get under the covers,” Bucky says softly. 

Steve responds with a grunt that says that he can’t be bothered to move from this position anytime soon  and Bucky laughs quietly. 

They’re quiet for a long time. 

Steve isn’t quite able to fall asleep because his mind is a bit too loud, so he tries to drown it out with other noises instead.If he listens closely enough, he can hear the sounds of the other residents in Bucky’s building living their lives. There’s a couple of loud vehicles that go by and some car horns a couple of blocks away. There’s sirens in the distance and he hears a dog barking somewhere nearby. He thinks he even hears the faint sound of someone’s music for a second before it fades away entirely. 

But mostly, he listens to Bucky’s steady heartbeat, thumping pleasantly right by his ear and finds his comfort in that.

Chapter Text

They don’t do much the rest of the day. 

Mostly, they just lay in Bucky’s bed and trade whispers about their schoolwork that they should probably be doing instead. 

Bucky listens to Steve like graphic design is the most intriguing topic in the world and Steve listens to Bucky like he’s terrified that he’ll miss even the tiniest crumb of information he can add to his small knowledge of the man. 

Which… 

Well, he is terrified he’ll miss something. He wants to know anything, everything he can about Bucky. 

So- other than a break for food and a brief shower because, “Sweetheart, you smell like lube. I don’t mind, but your roommate might have some questions”- Steve spends his Sunday with his head pillowed on Bucky’s chest or propped up on his elbow so he can watch Bucky’s eyes as he talks about his projects. 

When it’s time for Steve to go- several hours later than he planned to leave- Bucky sees him off with a soft, sweet kiss that he feels all the way in his toes. 

Steve floats all the way home, blissful and sated as he entirely ignores the unsettling feeling that tries to sneak in the back of his mind and warn him that he needs to be more careful. 

He doesn’t care that it’s late and he’ll probably have to wake up early to finish some work, doesn’t care at all that the only thing he did today was lay in Bucky’s sweet warmth. 

He’s tired of his own mind trying to ruin every positive feeling he’s had. 

So, there’s nothing that will take this peace away from him. 

Not tonight. 

Or, at least-

Not until he opens his apartment door and sees Sam waiting for him by their couch, arms folded over his chest and face settled into something far less friendly than Steve has ever had directed at him before. 

“Steve. Sit down.” 

*** ***

Steve’s heart is racing and his nails are digging into the skin above his knees. 

He’s sitting on their couch, where he’s been for the past couple minutes since Sam directed him to sit down, and trying desperately to not look as guilty as he feels. 

Really, he’s not even a hundred percent certain that he knows what’s going on. 

Sam has not said a single word in one minute and forty-three fucking seconds. 

Steve’s counting. 

Sam’s just standing across from him, arms still folded over his chest as he keeps a steady not-quite-glare directed straight at Steve’s eyes. 

Or, it would be straight at Steve’s eyes, if Steve could keep eye contact for longer than five seconds. 

It’s all very dramatic. 

It’s working, though. Steve is pretty sure he’s starting to sweat. 

He clears his throat when he can’t stand Sam’s stare anymore. 

“Uh. So… what’s up?” 

Shit. 

Steve shouldn’t have said anything because what he did say makes Sam’s eyebrows raise almost comically high. 

“‘What’s up?’” Sam looks at Steve incredulously. 

Very dramatic. 

Steve looks away.

Very guilty. 

There’s nothing but silence, again, for a few beats. Steve can only assume it’s for additional dramatic flair. If he weren’t in the process of being scolded like a child, he might roll his eyes. 

“Where have you been?” Sam’s eyes narrow. “And before you try to lie to my face again, you should know something.” 

Steve blinks. 

“I went over to Lang’s for a while. Bunch of people came and went. Luis, Hope, Banner, Tony, Carol… Peggy.”

Oh, shit. 

Steve freezes, eyes wide as they get caught on Sam’s disapproving look. His mouth opens, but no words come out as his heartbeat speeds up and his stomach drops. 

“Yeah,” Sam nods, biceps flexing as he folds his arms tighter over his chest. He’s such a friendly guy that Steve sometimes forgets that he can be intimidating. “Weird, right? Because you were supposed to be with Peggy today. Right, Steve?” 

Steve stares down at his feet. 

Sam huffs. “Do you know how stupid I looked when I asked where you were? Do you know how stupid I felt when it became glaringly obvious that you were not with the person you said you were with? That you lied? And then Peggy asked how you were doing because you guys haven’t been seeing each other much lately. Or talking. Which, obviously, is a shock to me because every time you walk out that door, you say you’re with her. So now, I’m just wondering… How many times have you lied to me about this?”

It’s silent for a while. 

He could make the argument that he doesn’t always explicitly say he’s going to see Peggy. A lot of the time, Sam assumes and Steve simply doesn’t correct him. But that is way past petty and Steve wouldn’t even defend himself if Sam decided to punch him in the face, so he just doesn’t say anything. 

Steve still has his head ducked and is staring at the ground, not even trying to settle his mind, will his blush away, or calm his heartbeat. He does nothing about the panic, embarrassment, guilt, and shame that flood his body. 

He deserves it all. 

Sam sighs. 

“Steve. What the hell, man?” 

It would be so much better if Sam sounded pissed or fed up but instead, he sounds hurt and confused and, fuck, Steve deserves that too, but Sam doesn’t and that kills Steve. 

His eyes are burning and he feels stupid because one thing he doesn’t deserve is to burden Sam with his pathetic tears, so he avoids eye contact until he’s blinked the burning feeling away. 

Looking up at Sam takes more effort than it should, but Steve manages. 

“Steve,” Sam starts, brows furrowing slightly when Steve tries to talk and nothing comes out again. “What’s going on?” 

The thing is, Steve truly wants to tell Sam. 

He wants to lay everything out, pour his heart out, admit to everything, get it off his chest. 

But… he’s never said it out loud. 

And every time it’s on the tip of his tongue, the words die and he can’t figure out how to just fucking say it. 

“I-“ Steve attempts. “I’m sorry.” 

Sam’s stare is blank. “… Okay. Would you like to add to that or…?” 

Steve swallows. 

“I’ve…” He closes his eyes and breathes deep. “I have lied to you. A lot. And… and I let you believe things that weren’t true. For, uh, a while.” 

Sam deflates, but the displeased look on his face remains. “Why?” 

“It- I- Um. So-“ 

Jesus. Use your fucking words. 

“I was… um… scared?” 

It wasn’t supposed to come out like a question, but, whatever. 

At least he said a full sentence. 

“Um, I’m sorry.” Sam’s brows furrow deeper. “I don’t- You were scared?”

Steve nods. 

“Of… telling me you were with another girl?” 

He looks away. “I, uh… I wasn’t with another girl.” 

He’s completely shocked that he managed to say that without stumbling over his words or having a heart attack. But his meaning isn’t clear enough and Sam only looks more confused. 

“Okay? So what the fuck have you been lying about? What have you been doing?” 

Sam is starting to sound a tad impatient and Steve can’t blame him. He’s sitting on the couch, acting shifty as hell, and speaking vaguely whenever he manages to get a sentence out. 

“Steve, you’re not into dumb shit, are you?” Sam takes a step closer, face shifting to pure concern. “Please tell me you haven’t been doing drugs or something.” 

Well. 

One could probably say that Bucky is highly addictive. 

The thought has Steve huffing a weak laugh, despite the situation. 

“No, Mom,” Steve smiles feebly. 

Mom. She would’ve been so great about all this.

A corner of Sam’s mouth twitches in response, but he manages to keep the stern look. 

“So, you’re safe?” 

“Yes,” Steve confirms. 

He’s safe with Bucky. Very safe with Bucky. 

“Good.” Sam moves to sit on the edge of the table- something he fusses at Steve for doing- and looks Steve over. “Talk to me, man. You look like you need someone to talk to.” 

Steve takes one more long, deep breath.

Just say it. 

“I haven’t been with another girl,” Steve repeats. 

Sam’s eyes narrow just slightly. 

“Because,” Steve continues, pausing when his heart tries to pound fully out of his chest to take a deep, shaky breath. “I’ve- I’ve been… with a guy.” 

Steve immediately shrinks in on himself, the strangest mixture of fear and relief overtaking his senses. He can’t tell if his heart is still pounding or if it’s stopped completely. 

He’s expecting some sort of strong reaction.

Maybe Sam’s eyes open so wide they fall out of their sockets. Maybe he gasps, hand flying up to his chest like a damsel in distress. Maybe he gets mad that Steve didn’t tell him sooner. Maybe he bursts into tears, going on about how proud he is of Steve. Maybe he just laughs, assuming Steve is joking. 

Sam does not react. 

Doesn’t even flinch. 

Which, honestly, might be even worse. 

Because… what the fuck? 

Steve is damn near about to break a nervous sweat and go into cardiac arrest, and…

Sam sits, composed as ever, reading Steve’s reaction to his own non-reaction. He studies Steve’s face, his eyes for a few seconds and slowly, all tension leaves his body and those chocolate brown eyes melt back into their usual friendly warmth. 

“Yeah?” 

“Y-Yeah,” Steve chokes out, tears brimming again. 

Sam’s smile is as soft as his eyes. 

They look at each other for what feels like an eternity and then Sam holds his arms open a little and before Steve knows it, they’re standing and he’s hugging Sam tight and Sam is squeezing him back just as hard. 

“Sam, I should’ve- I’m sorry. Sam, I’m so sorry,” Steve rambles by Sam’s ear, muttering his apologies over and over. 

Sam shushes him, tells him he understands- that he’s thankful Steve told him, that he’s proud of Steve, that he knows how hard it is to accept it and then say it out loud to someone else. 

By the time they pull back, Steve’s face- and Sam’s shoulder- is soaked, but there’s no denying the relief that floods through Steve’s body. 

“I still shouldn’t have lied,” Steve mumbles, wiping at his face.

Sam makes a face and shrugs a shoulder as if to say Steve’s not wrong, but- 

“I get why you did,” Sam says, guiding Steve to sit back down on the couch with him. “This is a tough thing to deal with. It’s very confusing. Especially if you try to do it on your own.” 

“You’re not mad?” 

“No.” Sam smiles at Steve’s incredulous look. “Look, I’m not ecstatic that you lied to me for however long, but now I know it wasn’t personal. I’ve been there, Steve. It’s hell. And I know the special type of torment you, specifically, can put yourself through. But you worked it out. You told someone. We got here. And even nervous and with your face all red and puffy, you look more relaxed than I’ve seen you in a while. I think this is the first time this whole year that I’ve seen you without a wrinkle in your forehead.” 

Steve feels it, too. 

He feels lighter. 

His heart isn’t pounding anymore. His stomach isn’t twisted. 

His mind, though still swirling and racing, feels less clouded by negativity, contradiction, and confusion. 

He’s surprised when he feels himself smiling. 

“How long have you known?” 

Steve frowns. “Known what?” 

“That you’re into guys, dumbass,” Sam laughs. 

“Shut up,” Steve shoves Sam gently. “Uh, not long. At all. I… sort of have been denying it since I first met this guy, but… I don’t know. I must’ve truthfully known from the start.” 

Yeah, you let him wrap his hand around your dick five minutes after you started talking to him.

“So, this guy of yours,” Sam starts, nudging Steve’s shoulder playfully. “Can you tell me about him?” 

“Oh, no, it’s, uh…” Steve blushes. “It’s not like that. He’s- We don’t- It’s not, um- It- I… It’s just, um, physical.” 

“Oh. I see.” Sam’s smile is huge and knowing before it falters. “He… Does he know he’s the first guy you’ve been with?” 

A pause. 

“Is he the first guy you’ve been with?” 

“Yes! Yes, of course,” Steve rushes, not wanting Sam to think he’s been keeping more secrets. “He’s the first. And he knows that.” 

“Okay,” Sam nods, but his face settles into something serious again. Protective. Steve smiles before he even asks. “Is he good to you? And you better be honest.” 

“Yeah,” Steve breathes. “Yeah, Sam, he’s… He’s really good to me. Honest.” 

Too good. 

“Better be,” Sam lifts a brow. “How long have you been… physical?” 

The air quotes are very heavily implied by the teasing smirk on Sam’s face. 

“Uh,” Steve shifts awkwardly. “Just like a month. Well, a month and a half, really. I guess. We haven’t actually done much. Like, we haven’t- We’ve just… Just been, you know… fooling around.” 

“Month and a half.” Sam considers this for a moment. 

The problem with Sam considering things is that Sam is smart and observant and Steve should really know by now to not let Sam think for too long. 

He realizes this too late- right about the same time he practically sees the lightbulb flick on over Sam’s head. 

“Steve,” Sam narrows his eyes and pins Steve with a disbelieving look. “If you’ve been not-straight for less than two months and have already bagged Bucky fucking Barnes and managed to keep it a secret this whole time, I swear-” 

Steve’s entire face going red is enough of a confirmation that Steve doesn’t even need to say it. 

“Pretty sure the word is actually ‘bisexual’ but you might be more up to date on the terminology than I am.” Steve mutters and rolls his eyes. 

“Look at you,” Sam grins. “Owning it, loud and proud. Welcome to the best of both worlds, Steve. I will still fight you if you steal a man from me.” 

Steve laughs. “I don’t think you need to worry about that. I haven’t really had any interest in any other guys so far, besides…”

Steve trails off, feeling like he shouldn’t have admitted that. 

“Bucky Barnes,” Sam finishes for him, sounding impressed. “Yeah, I mean, I guess I could see why you haven’t been looking at anyone else.” 

“Oh, God. This is going to be really awkward if you have a crush on him.” 

“What? No.” Sam sounds genuinely put off. “He is not my type. But I’m not blind. Guy looks good and everyone seems to want a piece of that. Makes sense that you do, too.” 

Steve makes a face. “If Bucky isn’t your type, then who the fuck is?” 

“I- Oh, my God,” Sam’s eyes are bright. “Steve. We can talk about girls and guys, now. You know, whenever you’re more comfortable giving juicy details.” 

“I’ve talked about guys with you before,” Steve counters. 

“Yeah, but now you can add more useful input than ‘I don’t know, I guess’ when we do!” 

Steve rolls his eyes again, but he’s matching Sam’s grin. 

It’s hard to remember why he thought this would be hard in the first place. 

“Bucky Barnes,” Sam repeats, still sounding awed. 

“Yeah,” Steve confirms again, still feeling awed himself knowing that Bucky chooses to spend any time with him. 

“Wait…” Sam’s excitement dies suddenly. “Doesn’t he, like, sleep with anything that walks his way?” 

“No,” Steve says firmly, smile disappearing. 

Though, if he’s honest, he guesses he doesn’t really know who all Bucky sees when Steve isn’t around. And Steve knows the gossip surrounding Bucky’s name, but he also knows that most of that has been proven to be nothing more than wishful thinking. 

The Bucky that Steve knows is good and kind and too sweet and just not like that and Steve will defend him until he has a reason not to- and probably even after that. 

“I’ve heard a lot-“ 

“He’s a good guy, Sam. And, ” Steve continues when he sees Sam’s doubtful look. “It’s just talk. You would never believe that about anyone else you didn’t personally know. You’re just going into big brother mode because it’s me.” 

Sam still seems uncertain, and somehow that prompts Steve into telling Sam the full story of Bucky and him- sparing a few… explicit details. 

He tells Sam all about Bucky’s patience, his continuous checking in. The way he always waits for Steve’s permission and never pushes. How he listens to Steve’s jumbled, confusing ramblings about not being sure how he feels and does his best to talk Steve through it and offer advice. How Bucky seems to always know what Steve needs, knows how to get him relaxed. 

He tells him that there’s nothing to worry about because Bucky is safe and good. 

“Maybe you’re right,” Sam allows after a few seconds of quiet. “You know him better than I do and I have to say, I’m really glad that he seems to be treating you so well. But Steve, that guy has been out and proud for a while. He won’t keep being a secret for too long. He has a reputation, he has a fucking fan base. I know you’ve seen the amount of people hanging off him at parties. I’ll admit, I can’t really say I recall him actually leaving with them but it just seems… I just want to make sure that you’re sure about the situation you’re getting into.”

‘He won’t keep being a secret for too long.’ 

That plays over and over again in Steve’s head.

Obviously, Steve has stressed over someone finding out about Bucky and him before he’s ready for someone to find out. 

But something about the way Sam worded it… 

Steve has considered that Bucky could grow bored of being Steve’s dirty little secret but he’s never considered that Bucky might start being bothered by it, but… Well, why wouldn’t he? It makes perfect sense for someone to get tired of sneaking around when it’s not something they’d normally do. 

Ah, this is probably why I put this off so long. 

Sam’s thoughts have logic. 

Something Steve’s thoughts typically do not have. 

“I am,” Steve says, even though he’s been silent for a few beats too many and he’s also had his own worries since that first night in the gym. “Like I said, it’s not even that deep. We just hookup sometimes. It’s no big deal. Really, Sam.”

“Still,” Sam presses. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but it would be extremely easy for him to take advantage of you. And it might be really easy for you to get caught up in him. And neither of those options are fair.” 

Steve distantly wonders if it’s too late for Sam’s warnings. If, maybe, he might already be too caught up in Bucky.  

He just shakes his head and smiles softly. “I know you’re just looking out for me. And I appreciate it. But it’s really not anything more than a good time. I promise. I know what I’m doing.” 

He does not. 

But, he knows he’s not done with his ‘ lessons’ from Bucky. There’s still so much more for Steve to learn and he’s a very eager student. 

They’re quiet again for a minute as Sam seems to process everything that’s been said and as Steve tries to figure out if he said too much. 

Or worse- if Sam could still read all the words that Steve didn’t say out loud. 

Their silence allows sounds from the city to sneak through their walls and Steve closes his eyes, remembering a few hours ago when he was listening to the same sounds in Bucky’s bed. 

When he looks back over at Sam, he finds the other man still deep in thought. He tries not to worry too much about it but when Sam finally meets his eyes, he has this firm, determined look on his face that’s making Steve extremely nervous. 

“Alright.” Sam nods once. “I want to meet him.” 

******

He tries his best to convince Sam that he doesn’t need to invite Bucky over for a dinner like Bucky is meeting Steve’s fucking parents, because Sam has already met Bucky. 

But Sam just waved Steve off and said, “No, I’ve met Bucky Barnes: random guy on campus. I’ve never met Bucky Barnes: guy who’s walking my best friend through his bisexual awakening. Tell him to be here tomorrow, or I’ll do it for you.” 

And it’s not an empty threat. 

Sam will message Bucky one way or the other. 

So. 

Steve traipses to his room after another hour or so of sheepishly apologizing and hugging Sam tightly as Sam offers conciliatory reassurances and genuine, warm words of support.

He procrastinates by sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands, thinking about how much he doesn’t deserve Sam and making a plan to sit down with him for some more one-on-one time to talk things over. 

Shit, maybe make a whole day of it after they're both done with classes one day this week.