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Bucky

“Ayyy! Sexy Face!” Sam greets as he strolls into the kitchen, looking thick with sleep, pants too long and pillow wrinkles on his cheek. Bucky thinks it’s frikken adorable. The sight of Sam and the affectionate name (that he totally should be used to by now but isn’t) sets off a bright pink blush on his cheeks and he ducks his head back into his cereal.

 

“Morning Sam.” He mumbles through a mouthful of cereal.

 

Sam smiles at him, leaning back on the counter with a bottle of orange juice, “Did you sleep okay?”

 

“Same as always.” Bucky says, but it’s an outright lie. He tossed and turned half the night, too hot then too cold, mostly just restless with dreams… “You?”

 

“Like a little baby bird.”

 

Bucky snorts and looks up at Sam now smiling brightly at him, “Yeah that’s it. Bless the world with that smile Mr White Wolf sir !”

 

Bucky flushes even more, rolls his eyes, “Shut up.” But he can’t quite wipe the smile off his face. Fucking Sam Wilson, seriously.

 

Sam’s been doing that for a while now, Bucky’s scared to call it flirting, doesn’t want to make it more than what it is but it makes him feel good. Maybe that’s why Sam does it- shower him in compliments that makes Bucky grin even on the worst days. Aside from Steve’s dorkiness and his growing grip on modern life there’s not much that makes the former straight-faced assassin in him bust at the seams with laughter quite like Sam calling him Bucky Blue Blues, or Sexy Face like this morning, or comparing him to “the Mona Lisa but better because look at that face” . Bucky’s not sure how much of it is true, but it’s entertaining as much as it’s flattering.

 

He’s so deep in thought that he doesn’t hear Sam asking for the milk across from him, “Hey! Who you daydreamin’ about huh?? Pass the milk!”

 

“You didn’t say please.”

 

“Barnes, don’t make me come over there.”

 

“Or what? What’re you gonna do? Chase me with your little wings?”

 

“Oh… Okay… that’s what we’re doing, huh?”

 

Bucky smiles, and hugs the milk close to his chest. Is he insane? He must be insane. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

The next moment Sam’s beside him and his fingers dig into Bucky’s ribs, he squeals and arches sideways, “Oh my god! What are you?? Five!!??”

 

“Give me the milk!”  Sam says and tries to lift Bucky off the seat, back in the day he might have been able to get the upper hand, but now Bucky’s all meat and muscle and easily holds Sam at bay with his metal arm. Still clutching the milk with the other.

 

In a quick scramble, someone swoops the other’s legs and they land on the floor with a thud, Sam’s on top of him and his waist is pinned by Sam’s thighs and his metal wrist clamped underneath Sam’s hands. Both breathless as they take in the new position. Bucky starts smiling as his chest heaves, he brings his free hand up and holds the milk out to Sam.

 

“You win.” Bucky breathes out, eyes locked on Sam’s. He can barely contain how his heart’s pounding, wonders half embarrassed if Sam can hear it.

 

“Yeah…” Sam’s eyes rake down Bucky’s form beneath him, his tongue poking at his bottom lip, “Definitely won.”

 

Tony strolls in, dislodging the moment, “Boys.”

 

They scurry apart and head back to their seats, Bucky continues eating, keeping his eyes glued to his coffee cup and cereal bowl but all he can see is his team mate straddled over him, looking at him like that. Christ.

 

~*~

 

That night Bucky wakes with a start, scrambling around in the sheets before he manages to sit up. This time it’s not a nightmare, far from it. Far .

 

He’s painfully hard, thinks he woke up just before coming in his sleep, all thanks to the dream he had of rubbing off against another dude. These dreams have been badgering him since moving into the Tower with exquisite looking men in all directions, awakening a part of him that’s been dormant for way too long.

 

Steve’s not around and he really needs to talk to someone about this, get it off his chest, and there’s only one other Avenger awake this time of night. The only one he really wants to talk to, to be frank. It’s his fault after all.

 

Bucky doesn’t bother with a shirt, maybe that part is intentional, and sneaks down the hall to knock on the door as quietly as he can.

 

“Sam. Hey Sam, open up.”

 

It’s quiet for a few seconds and then, “You got snacks?”

 

“No? It’s midnight…”

 

“Then goodnight.”

 

“Sam come on. I need to talk to someone.”

 

Sam groans inside the room and Bucky hears fabric rustle and then the drag of feet across the floor. He reminds himself to keep his composure when the guy he was grinding against in his dream, opens the door. It’s always him.

 

Sam flings the door open, eyes taking a quick tour down Bucky’s bare torso then back up to his face. “Barnes.”

 

Bucky regards Sam’s equally bare torso much the same, and nods, “Wilson.” He squeezes past Sam into his room. For the sake of the slowly deflating situation in his pants, he tries to ignore how good Sam smells and the fleeting brush of his warm skin.

 

“How can I help-”

 

“I like guys!” he blurts out because he’s not sure how to start this conversation.

 

Sam tilts his head and frowns, “Man, you pick the best moments huh…”

 

“I always have but that was during the 40s and back then it wasn’t something you just run around declaring right!? And then I was captured…” he stops himself there, swallows, “didn’t matter much then you know. No time for those kinds of things.”

 

Sam moves over to the couches in the corner, motions for Bucky to join him, “And how are you feeling about that now that you can say it?” He’s grateful for the calm and understanding tone in Sam’s voice but that makes what he wants to say hundred times harder.

 

He sits down beside Sam, a few inches apart so he doesn’t totally lose his mind, “Well… better, because it’s not a big deal anymore you know, and no one’s gonna bat an eye.” Bucky says and forces himself to look at Sam’s face instead of the deep cut of his hips even when he sits.

 

Sam smiles, “Some people still bat their eyes Barnes. But the important part is that you’re comfortable.” He gets up and starts the kettle, busies himself with getting two cups ready. “Have you got anyone in mind you’d like to… uh, get with.” Sam glances over his shoulder at Bucky.

 

And now he really can’t keep himself from looking. Sam’s back is just rich, smooth skin, stretching over thick muscles that ripple as he moves around. There are two deep dimples on his lower back that beg to just be sucked. And his ass… God, the long, thin pajama pants does nothing to help the situation.

 

He thinks this is as good a time as any and gets up, he watches Sam tense at the counter as he walks up behind him, again stopping a few inches away. “There’s one. There’s been only one since I came back…” he says real quietly behind Sam, his fingers twitching against his sweatpants.

 

It’s times like these that he loves his super soldier senses because he hears the jump of Sam’s heart clear as a bell, and his own responds to it.

 

“Well, what have you been waiting for then?” Sam asks, head slightly turned so only the side of his face is visible to Bucky.

 

Buck takes a deep breath, “See, he’s kind of a clown. I’m never sure when he’s being serious. Calls me all these cute names… and I love it, but I don’t know how sincere he’s being. He could call all the boys that for all I know…”

 

Sam clears his throat, straightening his back, “What does he call you?”

 

“Sexy Face… mostly…”

 

Then Sam turns, there’s barely space between them now, and he looks at Bucky in that way that turns his knees to jelly, like he did that morning too. Bucky opens his mouth to say something because what the fuck is he even doing but then a soft, warm hand comes up to his lips and a trail of shivers make their way down his spine at the touch.

 

“He most certainly isn’t wrong calling you that…” Sam breathes, and Bucky has to inhale to remain stable on his feet. Sam’s so close, dragging his thumb down Bucky’s open lips and his eyes settling just there… “And there’s no one else that could even compare. It’s only you Sexy Face.”

 

“Sam…”

 

He comes a fraction closer, fingers curling around Bucky’s where their hands hang at their sides, and leans forward. Sam’s eyes flick to Bucky’s, for permission, and obviously Bucky would be entirely insane if he said anything else but “Kiss me…” in that moment, so within a beautiful instant Sam’s soft full lips enclose around his. Easily better than anything he’s felt in seventy years.

 

It’s wet and soft and slow as they take all this in- the admission of attraction, physical touch after all this time, a kind of relief that has Bucky’s heart racing trying to compete with Sam’s, which he can now feel against his chest. All he really wants is someone to take care of him from here on, craves it even, so he lifts his hands over Sam’s shoulders allowing Sam to take direction from there.

 

And he does. Bucky gets lifted off the ground and placed down on the counter, Sam’s strong hands now on his thighs, while Sam’s tongue works his mouth soft and delicately, testing at first. Bucky wants more, wants rougher. Wants to feel.

 

He pulls away from Sam to breathe, leaves Sam’s lips to wander down to his neck, mouthing at his clavicle, fingers roaming his torso and over his nipples, he arches and leans into each touch of Sam’s hands, “Sam, god please…”

 

Sam comes back up to look at him, Jesus he will never get enough of that look. “What do you need baby? Hm?”

 

He ignores the delirious flutter of his stomach in favor of answering, “Just… just touch me. However you want.” Bucky’s hands alternate between cupping Sam’s neck and smoothing over his shoulders.

 

“Okay. You wanna stop at any time, you just say so. I’ll stop.” Sam says looking at Bucky now, and he nods. Sam pushes him back gently, so he’s flat on the counter top, hand sliding down the length of his body, coming to a stop at the waistband of Bucky’s sweats. He tugs only lightly, and Buck’s about to lose it. He tilts his hips up, bites back a moan when his dick presses against Sam’s arm.

 

“Oh god…”

 

Sam pulls on the sweats and they slide down easy, revealing bare skin, “Jesus Barnes, you trying to kill me??”

 

“Hmm, I sleep naked.”

 

“And the world thanks you for that.” Sam says before soft lips find the inside of his thigh and sucks a kiss into it. Bucky wants to fucking cry it feels so good, and that’s why it’s no surprise that he actually has to hold back tears when Sam’s warm mouth slips over his dick. He grabs for anything he can, knocking shit off the counter in his haste for purchase as he slides into lax, hot wetness and back out again. Sam’s tongue flips skillfully over his slit, one hand pumping at the base and the other cupping his ass.

 

Bucky lets his legs drop open and doesn’t care what he sounds like anymore, hopes it get the message across about how fantastic he’s feeling, even more so when Sam presses two wet fingers to his entrance, “Fuck yes!” he moans out, grabs and squeezes Sam’s bicep as a finger presses into him while Sam’s mouth takes him down again.

 

“This okay? You hurting?” Sam checks, still pumping his cock, finger sliding in and out slowly.

 

“God no… this is great. Don’t stop.”

 

Sam doesn’t answer, just dips down again, taking Bucky so far back his tip hits Sam’s throat, making his body twitch as one finger becomes two then three, wetter, looser and faster. It burns but in the finest way he could have imagined.

 

Sam keeps going just like that. Over and over until Bucky’s vision is reduced to stars and his body ignites.

 

“I’m... wait… oh holy shit! Sam!!”

 

Sam stands up, still jerking as Bucky comes, watching with his wet lip clenched between his teeth. His other hand sweeping up Bucky’s thigh, coaxing him through and down the waves of pleasure. Bucky keeps looking at him.

 

“Sorry, I would have swallowed but I wanted to see that happen live in action.” Sam says kind of breathless and Bucky smiles through his bliss, Sam’s fingers still in him, nudging around tenderly inside. “Fucking beautiful.”

 

Bucky only moans faintly and sits up, feels Sam’s fingers slide out. He gets level with him for a kiss, and when he wraps his legs around Sam’s waist he feels the thick press of his cock against his naked skin. Skin that flushes at the thought.

 

“That feels promising.”

 

“Yeah? Ready for more Sexy Face?” Sam asks while carrying Bucky to his bedroom.

 

Bucky answers with a long, deep kiss. He’s pretty impressed by Sam’s strength and it has his cock perking to life again thinking about what else Sam will do to him. He doesn’t quite know how to tell him exactly what he wants, what he really needs, what he knows for a fact Sam can give him. It should be as simple as ‘hold me down and fuck me to within an inch of my life’ but along with certain social skills he lacks the flair for dirty talk. The old Bucky, that 1940s charmer, he was pretty smooth with his tongue. This one’s a bit more reserved, reliant on the other person.

 

Sam’s room is elegant and simple just like Bucky expected. His bed is a wooden four-post, all plush white sheets and duvet cover, fluffy looking pillows, the kind that melts your body into it. There’s a white glowing neon sign above the headboard and the nightstands are scattered with Sam’s belongings and of course a bottle of lube. He shouldn’t, but he blushes at that, thinking about what Sam has done with it by himself.

 

Sam drops him on the mattress and climbs up his naked body with a trail of kisses. Bucky’s not ashamed of his body - serum induced or not, he’s worked pretty hard at it and takes pride in how he looks despite the metal appendices - so he stretches out beneath Sam and opens his legs to give Sam space.

 

The weight of Sam on him feels so undeniably right, anchoring and enough to drive him crazy with want. He gets Sam’s soft mouth on his again and holds him there a while longer, this time exploring slowly while their hands do the same. He twitches a little each time Sam strokes over a nipple or cups his neck, moans when Sam’s mouth finds its way there again and sucks the skin until Bucky can feel the blood prickle to the surface.

 

Sam lets go, “Amazing... Heals just like that…” he says marveling at Bucky’s throat, thumb rubbing over clear skin where the bruise was.

 

“Uh huh.” Bucky hums, arching up against Sam for contact, for friction, and he’s granted what he asks for when Sam rolls his hips down into Bucky, squeezing Bucky’s hand.

 

Sam moves down, nudging Bucky’s chin up so he can get to the soft spot beneath it. He feels Sam inhale, hips grinding down again and then his hand lets go of Bucky’s and glides up the metal, feeling each partition of it on the way up.

 

Sam

Bucky tenses when he reaches the ridge of his scar where the cold hard metal meets soft warm skin, “Can I?” he asks softly checking to see if Bucky’s okay with it.

 

He watches him swallow and breathe out, he then nods and closes his eyes as Sam brushes a finger over the curve of the scar, following it all the way along the rounding of his shoulder. He drops a kiss along Bucky’s collar bone, drags his lips to the scar and hesitates only one second - for Bucky’s sake - and kisses there too.

 

“Perfect.” he whispers against the black metal. Kind of wondering how that would feel in him but for now he’ll take it easy. He’s finally got Bucky in his grasp, at the mercy of his touch, making needy sounds for his mouth… he’s not screwing that up with his weird metal fingers kink. Not yet, anyway.

 

“It’s not… it’s-”

 

“-Perfect. End of story.”

 

Bucky’s mouth curls into a smile and he pulls Sam down for a hard kiss, one that grows heated fast, one that has Bucky grabbing at his ass and whining into his mouth, dick hard against his own. “Fuck, feels so good Barnes, I can finish just like this…” he groans and pushes down into Bucky again, rutting them together.

 

Bucky pushes Sam's pants down, sweeping his hands his over the roundings, middle finger sliding up and down the cleft, this time Sam moans unashamed into Bucky’s neck, his dick grinding down harder until wetness bubbles from his slit.

 

“Come on Sam, fuck me.” Bucky moans all red in the face.

 

Desperately rubbing against Bucky, he asks, “How do you want it baby?”

 

Bucky’s eyes go a little darker when Sam peels away from his neck to look at him. “Hard.”

 

“Fuck Barnes… you gonna kill me-”

 

“-as hard as you want, just don’t hurt me.” he squirms underneath Sam, face slack with want since his dick’s getting attention and Sam’s now mouthing at one of his nipples. “You can do whatever you want to me sweetheart…”

 

“Oh my god…” Sam’s brain nearly short circuits, “Safe word?”

 

Bucky thinks for a second then grins, “Captain America.”

 

Sam snorts at that and starts laughing, “Damn, that’ll kill a mood huh. Perfect.” he wiggles out of his pajama pants and squeezes their dicks together, marvels at how Bucky curves up into his touch, so eager.

 

Bucky reaches for the lube, spurts some out on his fingers and reaches down for Sam’s cock to smear the lube in.

 

Sam presses two fingers back into Bucky’s ass, still loose and slick from before and spreads them open, feeling Bucky stretch for him. He leans down for a kiss.

 

And with that Sam lifts Bucky’s ass up and slides the tip of his cock in slowly, moves back and forth so it catches on the rim and Bucky moans.

 

“Ah fuck… move please, move!”

 

Sam inches in a little more, halfway, and then rocks back and forth again, sliding in deeper the more Bucky moans and writhes around. He holds Bucky’s hips still and bottoms out, nudges deep inside him and keeps still so they can both adjust.

 

“Oh my god… Sam…” Bucky’s clutching the sheets into his fist.

 

“You okay?”

 

Bucky swallows then smiles, “Full.”

 

“Good full? Can I move?”

 

“So good.” he says and dreamily wraps his legs around Sam’s waist, “Go for it.”

 

Sam doesn’t need anymore pause, so he pulls back and sinks in again all in a quick, swift move that leaves Bucky squeezing around him, thighs clenching his middle, it feels fucking great so he doesn’t stop. Lowers himself down on Bucky’s chest and starts speeding up, quick sharp strokes.

 

It’s all properly intense, especially with Bucky breathing against his lips and his metal hand digging into Sam’s back, the pressure of it reminding him that Bucky said he wants it hard, so Sam kisses him and decides to test it.

 

He draws back and slams in harder than before and like magic Bucky gasps and whines, his thighs tightening around Sam.

 

“Fuck! Go harder!”

 

Sam shifts forward, slams home again and watches Bucky melt with delight, he keeps it up and pushes himself to go as hard and fast as he can because Bucky really seems to fucking like it when his body bounces and jerks with every hit.

 

“Like this baby? That good for you, hm?” He manages breathless, body straining.

 

“Harder Sam come on!”

 

“What the fuck?!”

 

“Sam! Please??”

 

Sam pulls out abruptly, flips Bucky over, pushes his knees in under him and knocks his legs apart before he slides back in, pulling his cheeks apart and squeezing them so his hand print stays behind for a split second as he begins to slam back in.

 

Bucky smiles, blissed out, the side of his face pressed into Sam’s sheets, “Better…” he mumbles and slips his metal arm behind his back, “Please?” he asks quietly, but Sam’s confused, he reaches to hold Bucky’s hand but then his other arm comes up too and he lays them down wrist to wrist on his lower back.

 

And Sam gets it.

 

Bucky needs this. Needs someone to take over control of him sometimes, needs to not care for a little while. A rough touch that he trusts enough to become soft again when he needs it to. Sam also realizes then how much Bucky must trust him to this. The actual Winter Soldier, pliant and begging beneath him. It’s then that Sam decides he’ll give this guy whatever the hell he asks for, he’ll send Redwing to get the moon for Bucky if that’s what he wants.

 

So, he wraps a hand around Bucky’s wrists, securing them behind his back and works the other hand into Bucky’s long brown hair, curls it into his fist, pulling only gently and watches his mouth part as he lets out a pleased sigh at Sam pushing down on him.

 

Sam winds up the pace again, fast and unyielding, skin slapping, Bucky’s ass still tight and warm around his cock. He wants to drag this out and make Buck’s pretty mouth beg for it until his name is only rambles on Bucky’s tongue but he’s biting his lips and whining desperately, sights and sounds that has Sam’s spine heating up, wanting release.

 

“Buck, baby… I’m so close…” He thrusts in deep, buried up to his base in Bucky’s ass then he circles his hips just to stave the orgasm off a little. “You’re so tight…”

 

“Feels so good, fuck!!” Bucky moans when Sam pulls on his hair hard enough to turn his head partly toward Sam “… don’t stop, please!”

 

“You gonna come baby?”

 

“If you tell me to.” Bucky breathes out, screwing his eyes shut against the thrusts Sam’s delivering.

 

Sam’s going to pass the hell out because Bucky’s actually fucking holding back just for him, waiting for Sam.

 

“Fuck baby... come. Come for me right now.”

 

Buck’s body goes slack the moment the words leave Sam’s mouth, and he comes shuddering under Sam’s grip, whimpers spilling gruffly from his throat. A helpless “Sam…” is all he manages.

“Got you. I got you.” Sam says and then he slams home one more time and empties himself inside Bucky, hips stuttering in their previous steady rhythm as the orgasm takes hold of his body and brings him down on Bucky’s back, panting for air.

 

He kisses the warm, sweat slicked skin against his lips, feeling Bucky’s heart slam in his chest, “You okay?” he croaks out, voice thick and tired.

 

Bucky’s wrist is red from Sam’s hold, fading quickly when he releases his arms and slips out of Bucky, “Very, very okay… you’ve got some moves Wilson.” Bucky says, grinning satiated and half asleep. Sam thinks that’s probably the best thing he’s ever been close to in his life.

 

He pulls Bucky close to his chest, smooths his unruly hair back. Bucky eases in next to Sam, nuzzles his nose into the junction of Sam’s neck and jaw.

 

“Thank you.” He mumbles, looping an arm around Sam’s chest.

 

Of course Sam knows he’s not being thanked for fucking him, it’s a ‘thank you that I’m safe here’ and that’s something he’ll always be for Bucky. Safe when the world cries chaos, and chaos when he needs a storm.

 

“Anytime Sexy Face.” he smiles as Bucky drifts off in his arm, breathing becoming deep and even.

 

~*~

 

Sam wakes the next morning with the metal half of Bucky draped over him, fingers lightly twitching against Sam’s pec. Bucky is the epitome of serene- glowing skin in the bright early morning light, full parted lips that look sweet and pink enough to consume, so Sam does the only thing he can think of. He starts singing. Loudly.

 

“Just call me angel of the morning aaaangel-”

 

Bucky jerks awake, squints around for the source of the noise with one eye closed.

 

“Oh god….” Bucky gets up, takes the sheets with him as he stumbles off to the bathroom.

 

“-just touch my cheek before you leeeeave me baby!”

 

“Captain America!! Captain America right now!!!” Bucky yells and shuts the bathroom door behind him.

 

Sam laughs, he’s sure Bucky’s actually going back to sleep on the bathmat, but he smiles fondly at the closed door. “Good morning Bucky Blue Blue!!”

 

“I hate you.”

 

“No you don’t.”

 

“... No I don’t.”