The night wore on and Steve is still completely unsure of how he ever got so lucky. One arm is wrapped tight around Bucky’s waist and the other holds his new husband’s flesh hand, as they dance together in the middle of the floor, the rest of their team around them. Bucky can’t stop grinning, and Steve hopes he never does because that look — the one where all the light and radiance in the world seems to flow out of him — makes Steve fall so much more in love with his soldier. He still has trouble believing that this is real; that something this amazing has actually happened to them after all the bullshit they’d put up with over the years. But Bucky keeps on smiling as he leans in, pressing his forehead to Steve’s.
“Something wrong?” he asks, sliding his hand out of Steve’s and wrapping it around his neck instead.
Steve shakes his head, dropping his now vacant hand to his husband’s waist with the other one. “Nothing at all,” he replies, “just feeling like the luckiest bastard that ever walked the earth.” Bucky laughs before he leans in to capture Steve’s lips in a soft kiss.
Etta James plays over the room’s PA system, and Steve chuckles softly. He wasn’t around when the song first came out, but ever since he first heard it — New Year’s Eve, the night Bucky had kissed him in front of the team for the first time — he’d deemed it their song. It had played earlier in the evening, too, when Natasha had insisted that they keep with tradition and have the first dance of the night together. Steve had protested - said he had two left feet, did everything he could - but Bucky had just pulled him to his feet and onto the floor as the others watched.
“I’ll lead, Punk,” he’d said. And who was Steve to argue? He could feel the eyes of everyone in the hall on them; see the little flashes of light from the cameras and phones alike the second Bucky took Steve’s hand. But the instant that their eyes met, and Steve had seen that same look in them, whatever insecurity that had crept up on him melted away.
That had been hours ago now, and they haven’t left the floor since.
Bucky’s fingers toy with the lapels of his jacket, smoothing over the exquisite black material. “You look gorgeous tonight,” he says, voice low and sincere. It’s not a flirtatious comment, as it normally would have been - just a loving statement that Steve knows Bucky probably wouldn’t let himself say in the company of so many others under any other circumstance. “Beautiful, even.”
Steve feels his face heat up and his eyes lower from the grey ones that had been peering into them. “If anyone here is worthy of the term, it’s you, Buck,” he replies quietly, in the same sincere tone lovers often share. Bucky smiles - softer this time - and tightens his arm around Steve’s neck. “Always have been. Ever since the first time I laid eyes on you, I thought you were beautiful. Never seen a more perfect person than you.”
“Aw, Stevie, stop it. You’re gonna make me blush,” he chides. But Steve can see the way the apples of his cheeks colour ever so delicately under the low lights of the hall.
“Hate to break up this lovely little moment here,” Tony’s voice says from beside them. The man places a hand on each of their shoulders and stills them, looking from one to the other with that devious little grin that only Tony Stark can give. “But you two have somewhere to be.”
Steve looks to his friend with an arched eyebrow. “Yeah, I believe we’re already here. It’s our reception.”
Tony shakes his head and begins to usher them from the hall without a word to any of the other guests. In front of the building sits a glossy black SUV with tinted windows, and a driver wearing a full tux and sunglasses, despite it being eleven-thirty at night. “Your bags are in the trunk. Brian here knows exactly where he’s going, and will not stop for anything until he reaches his destination.” He unhands the super soldiers and holds his hands out flat. “Gimme your phones.”
“What?” Bucky asks.
“Phones, Barnes…. Rogers? Rogers-Barnes? Barnes-Rogers? What do I even call you two now, anyway? Nevermind. Phones. Now. Make it quick,” Tony orders. Steve pulls his phone from his pocket and passes it over, watching as Bucky does the same. “Good. Get in the car. I don’t wanna see your lovesick faces for the next seven days. You’re officially off the grid.”
Steve’s jaw drops and he fixes Tony with a confused look. “Stark, we can’t just leave,” he says, somewhat dumbfounded by the idea of being without a way to be contacted. “We have a duty to protect the people!”
“Yeah, and if you do so recall, I’m your boss and I’m telling you that we have it covered.” Tony’s smile turns warm as he looks between the two of them. “Just go and relax. Enjoy each other. Take a break.” He pockets their phones before giving them each a clap on the shoulder, along with a meaningful look that Steve’s never seen Tony give anybody before. It’s a mixture of proud and happy, coupled with adoration and this pleased little smile. “Go on, get outta here. Don’t worry about the party, I’ve got everything under control.”
Bucky eyes Stark suspiciously for a minute before he slides into the back seat of the SUV, Steve following. “Thanks, Tony,” Steve says, making Stark smile a little bit again. “For everything. You didn’t need to do all this.”
Truth was, Tony had paid for everything. The food, which couldn’t have been cheap as it had been prepared by what Tony called ‘Iron Chefs’; the hall, which was a grand and elaborately-decorated place that Steve thought would have been better suited for royalty. Then there’d also been the suits they’d both worn, as well as the DJ. Steve had insisted on keeping the affair small - just the team and a few other close friends - but Tony had had none of that. The guest list had soon swelled to nearly two hundred and eighty people — excluding the dozen or so media personnel on hand, the three photographers, the DJ, and the twenty-seven wait staff — who all just had to be there to see Captain America marry his best friend and partner, The Winter Soldier.
Stark shrugs. “It’s not every day America’s sweethearts get married,” he says before closing the SUV’s door. Tony gives the back of the vehicle a tap with his knuckles and the driver pulls out of the parking lot, heading to whatever destination had been set for them.
Beside him, Bucky reaches across the centre of the seat and takes Steve’s hand in his, idly running his thumb over the gold band now circling his ring finger. “He’s not so bad, sometimes,” Bucky laughs. Steve just rolls his eyes and tips his head back against the headrest with a little smile on his lips.
The day had been absolutely perfect. A warm August breeze blew softly around the top of Stark Tower where they’d exchanged their vows. Natasha had offered to stand for Bucky, and Sam for Steve - while Tony (of course) had gotten himself ordained just so he could perform the very short and to-the-point ceremony. Thor had insisted on preforming an Asgardian ritual that would ensure them everlasting peace and love, so long as they both lived and breathed. This had actually touched the two of them a little more than any traditional Catholic marriage passage ever had.
It was small and intimate, just like they’d wanted, and very down to earth. Bucky had worn a pair of fitted black pants, a white dress shirt with its sleeves rolled back to the elbows, and a black vest with a pale grey tie. He kept his hair long and tied it back off his face, which he’d shaved clean. Steve was positive that there’d never been a more beautiful sight in all the world than the look in those stunning grey eyes when he’d said ‘I do’. Steve himself had kept things just as simple, opting for a simple pair of black slacks and a matching jacket, with a deep blue shirt underneath.
Bucky’s thumb continues to run across the back of his hand while Brian continues to drive, though he’s staring out his own window. Steve can see his reflection in the tinted glass; sees the way he smiles with his eyes all dazed and out of focus. He looks as happy and as peaceful as Steve feels, and Steve gives his hand a squeeze. The brunet meets his eyes in the window and his grin grows.
A few minutes later, the SUV pulls into a private hangar in the back of the airport. A flight crew waits patiently in front of Tony’s personal jet, and immediately rush forward the second the vehicle stops moving. Two attendants take their suitcases from the trunk, while another two open their doors and usher them quickly onto the plane without a word. The couple exchange a confused look as they take their seats — huge leather arm chairs that look more like something belonging in a living room as opposed to a plane — and are each handed a change of clothes.
“Flight time is roughly ninety minutes, sirs,” a pretty young woman tells them. “Mr. Stark said that you may wish to change before we land. There is a full bar to the back of this cabin; please feel free to help yourselves to anything you’d like.”
With that she leaves the aircraft and the stepladder door closes behind her. “I still have no idea what’s going on,” Bucky says as he unbuttons his vest and hangs it on the hanger provided to him. “Where the hell is Stark sending us?”
Steve shrugs, and removes his jacket. “No idea,” he replies, watching the way his husband’s hands make quick work of the tie at his neck and pops the top button of his shirt open. Steve feels his throat start to dry up; Bucky just shoots him a wink and settles down in his seat again. Once the plane is in the air, the pair change into the clothing provided: a pair of jeans, a white tee, and Steve’s favourite blue hoodie for the blond; khaki cargo shorts, a vintage looking Iron Maiden t-shirt and a plane black zip up for Bucky. Then they settle in for the next hour and a half.
Most of it is spent on the little couch behind Steve’s seat, Bucky’s feet kicked up on the table and Steve’s head in his lap, simply enjoying each other’s presence. Steve can’t help but run his thumb over the ring on his finger, spinning it around. He’d been a little surprised at the inscription on it when he’d first seen it. Their saying, ’Till the end of the line, runs around the inside of the band of solid gold. It’s simple; traditional.
“Pepper had suggested something a little more modern,” Bucky tells him when he notices Steve picking at the band. “Had a whole case of these snazzy titanium rings; black gold, bands with diamonds and gems and shit.” His fingers card through Steve’s hair as he speaks softly.
“Didn’t like ‘em?” Steve asks.
Bucky shakes his head. “Nah. They all looked too cold. And you’re anything but cold.” He reaches down and lifts Steve’s left hand with his steel one and closes his fingers between warm flesh ones. Steve watches the way his lips quirk up a little bit, seeing the gold plate on his finger beside the band on Steve’s. They’d taken a few minutes between the ceremony and reception to get Tony to take one of the original steel plates out of the metal finger and weld in a gold one. Of course, with the plate being welded to his finger, making removing it somewhat of a hassle, the inscription on his wouldn’t be seen, so he’d had the words printed around the outside of the plate.
“I figured that hey, why break tradition?” Bucky continues. “Our parents had gold - why should we go and do something different?” He raises Steve’s hand to his lips and presses a kiss to each knuckle.
Steve smiles and pulls his and Bucky’s arms down so they drape across his waist. “You really thought all this through, didn’t you?”
The other man looks away and rolls his eyes with a shy smile. “Yeah, I did,” he replies with honesty. He peers back down into Steve’s eyes with the same look of unfiltered love and devotion that still makes Steve’s stomach do flips. “I knew way back when we were kids that if I didn’t marry you, I wasn’t marrying anybody. If I couldn’t grow old and senile beside you, what was the point? You’re the only person I’ve ever loved, Steve… ‘Course I thought about this.”
“Bucky…” Steve says gently, reaching up with his right hand to push a stray strand of hair from Bucky’s eyes.
“S’true, Stevie.” He smiles again and laughs at himself. “God, listen to me… Gettin’ all sappy.” Bucky shakes his head and rolls his eyes, but Steve can see the way that they shimmer a little in the light.
Steve dozes off in Bucky’s lap for a bit while the brunet strokes his hair, scratching at his scalp with short, blunted nails. Before he knows it, the plane is touching down… on water. Bucky shakes his shoulder to wake him, just as a pair of water skis descend from the plane’s hull, and the aircraft makes a smooth landing on a lake. The moon overhead is huge and bright, lighting the entire body of water as the pilot taxis them to the shore, where he docks the plane beside a pier.
“Where in the hell are we?” Steve asks again, looking out the window.
From here, he can’t see much aside from trees. Lots of trees; clear skies and bright stars. Bucky shrugs and gets to his feet, just as the crew on the dock lower the doors to let them out. Skeptical, Steve climbs from the aircraft behind his husband and takes in his surroundings. The air smells crisp and clean, woodsy and fresh — not at all like New York. Owls hoot in the trees, and birds sing their songs happily. Waves from the lake lap at the sandy shore below the pier and Steve instantly feels at peace. Wherever they are seems like the perfect little getaway from the hustle and bustle of the city.
Still though, he feels a little naked without his shield or phone.
Bucky stands beside him on the pier, turning in a slow circle to take in the scenery. “Ok, so we’re camping,” he says sarcastically. “Not exactly the romantic week away from work that I thought we were getting.”
“Follow the lit path - you’ll see,” one of the flight crew tells them, as he places their bags on the dock beside them. “Enjoy your stay, and congratulations.” The young man smiles and boards the plane again, pulls up the door and takes off.
It hits Steve then, that they’re completely and utterly alone. “I don’t like this, Buck,” he says quietly, already feeling that nervous jitter starting to make his hands tap restlessly against his thighs. “What if they —”
Bucky’s hands on the sides of his face silence him before he finishes the thought. “Relax, baby. Tony knows where we are, clearly. If we’re really needed that badly, I’m sure he has some emergency contact line set up or something.” He presses a sweet kiss to Steve’s lips and pulls back with a smile. “Let’s just go and see what else Stark has set up for us.” He arches an eyebrow, taking Steve’s hand in one of his own and his suitcase with the other.
Steve sighs and shakes his head. “Seems we have no choice,” he laughs, picking his own bag up.
As the flight attendant had said, at the end of the pier is a path in the woods, illuminated by little white lights that hang in the trees. The couple follow it up a hill that leads to the most gorgeous of homes Steve has ever seen in his life. Made of solid wood and stone, the three story ‘cabin’ sits atop the hill, a warm light emanating from its massive windows. Balconies line the middle and upper floors, and a fire pit sits in front of the main doors on the ground.
“Holy shit,” Bucky murmurs in the silence of the clearing, where the cabin has been built. “It’s… This is… gorgeous.”
All Steve can do is nod before walking up the path and pushing the sliding door open. Inside has the exact homey, woodsy feel that Steve thought it would; all stone and wood interior, with solid, hand-crafted wooden furniture and natural materials. The brown leather living room couches are all huddled around a fireplace, its flames snapping and crackling happily behind the grate. A chandelier made up of deer antlers is giving off the same warm light Steve had seen outside, though candles on the coffee and end tables are lit, too. Beside the big bay windows that overlook the grounds at the front of the cabin, a table of dark wood sits - already set for two.
Bucky had been inspecting the kitchen of the huge open concept room and calls to Steve. “Come here a minute,” he says, catching Steve’s attention. Steve looks over his shoulder to where Bucky stands; a bottle of champagne in one hand, and two glasses in the other. “There’s a note. Come read it while I get this open.”
Of course, he does as he’s asked and moves across the hardwood floor to retrieve the note on the centre island of the kitchen, addressed to Capsicle and Leather Rebel. He rolls his eyes at Stark’s nicknames and flips the paper open. “Dear… You,” Steve reads, snickering at Tony already. “I know you told me not to go all out for this most auspicious occasion, but you know me, I never listen —”
“He’s not wrong,” Bucky interrupts, while twisting the wiring off the cork.
Steve rolls his eyes and laughs before continuing. “I built this place a few years ago, after the battle of New York, when I needed a place where I could go to be in complete isolation if I needed it. Right now, you’re standing in the Colorado wilds, roughly a hundred and twenty miles — in every direction — from civilization. It’s powered by a miniature version of the Arc Reactor that powers the tower, so no worries, you have electricity. Remote Wi-Fi and cable hook-ups too, but I’ve disabled them. And no, Jarvis won’t be bothering you. I know you’re going to ask why, so I’ll tell you.
“This week is supposed to be about the two of you. You two, who —” Steve stops mid-sentence, feeling his throat constrict a little, and his eyes blur. Bucky arches an eyebrow and asks him silently to keep reading, so he does. “— You two, who have overcome so much, survived through so much, and are still somehow more madly in love than anyone else I’ve ever known. I know, it’s taken a lot of pain, hurt, loss and agony to get you here today, but let’s face it: it was meant to be. I’m not one to believe in fate or destiny or any bullshit like that (I’m a fucking scientist - sue me, Rogers), but I know your stories. There’s no way that there wasn’t something else at work… Something that kept Steve alive in the ice; something that gave James the strength to overcome all the shit he’s gone though. So celebrate it. Celebrate your undying love for each other. Celebrate the fact you’re alive. Don’t worry about saving the world, it’ll always be here, so long as the Avengers have anything to say about it anyways. Focus on each other, because that’s what matters here, really.
“Steve, you’ve fought by my side for a few years now, and I love you like a brother. I’ve watched you struggle, seen you come to terms with losing some of the ones you love - even helped you adapt to today’s world. James, I’ve been on your team from the day Steve brought you to the tower; helped you find yourself again… Helped you propose to your best friend —” Steve has to stop again, his eyes darting to Bucky who just shrugs while he pours them both a glass of champagne.
“You two are some of my closest friends, my family, and my teammates… And I could not be happier to see the both of you get married. I love you guys. I know I don’t say it, or even act like it most of the time. I give you hell about being older than dirt, pick on you for just about everything there is to pick on you for, and give you all kinds of hilarious nicknames… but I love you guys, I really do. I care about you both so much, and I don’t think a better match could have been made than you two.”
Bucky leans against the counter beside Steve, placing a glass of champagne in front of him, and Steve sees the way his eyes glisten with unshed tears. “God, this fucking guy,” he curses with a laugh.
“Wait, there’s more,” Steve tells him, before clearing his throat to keep reading. “… I know I said I built this place for me, and it’s true. But I also have a place on a private island off the coast of Haiti, and one in the Canadian Rocky Mountains. So, the keys are on the counter. It’s yours. Consider it a wedding gift from me and the missus, if it makes you feel better. Whenever you want to get away, say the word and you can have all the time you need.
“Remember what I said about enjoying this week and relax. Colorado is lovely in August. See you when you get back. Tony.”
Steve lays the letter down on the earthy-red granite countertop and shakes his head, pushing a couple tears away. Beside him, Bucky is doing the same with his flesh thumb. “Well, we can’t say he’s not generous,” Bucky says after he clears the lump from his throat, looking around the cabin.
But that was the last thing on Steve’s mind. “I was thinking sentimental,” he says, a light disbelieving laugh in his voice. “I’ve known Stark for eight years, and never once have I ever heard him talk like that.”
The brunet shrugs and nudges Steve’s drink closer to him, picking up his own glass. “Here’s to Tony. For all the shit he’s done for us that we’ll never be able to repay him for.”
They clink their drinks and both of them take a sip from the delicate, fluted glasses in their hands. Eyes roam the lower floor of this masterpiece of a cabin that they could now call theirs. It’s modern yet rustic; warm and homey, yet sophisticated and high-class. Over all, it’s peaceful - something that the Avengers Tower rarely is these days.
Steve sighs contentedly and eyes the bags, still sitting beside the door. “C’mon, let’s go check the rest of this place out,” he suggests, finishing off his drink. Bucky nods quietly and pads across the room to retrieve their things, while Steve picks up the empty glasses and the bottle of champagne, following the other up the curved staircase.
The upper floor is just as elaborate as the lower. Two spare bedrooms sit on the left and right sides of the hallway, each decorated in an elegant, almost hotel-quality way, with white linens and a dozen or more pillows on the beds. A bathroom hides behind the second door on the right; all wood grain cabinets and granite counters, tiled floors and claw footed bathtubs to keep the classy feel. The second door on the left is a massive linen cabinet that holds what must be a hundred towels and just as many sheets and extra blankets.
“Who the fuck does he think we’re going to have over?” Bucky mutters, closing the cabinet door with a roll of his grey eyes. Steve just snorts and heads to the final door at the end of the hall.
It hides a staircase that leads up to the master bedroom, which the two follow. The room is huge, with an en suite bathroom of the same elegant decor as the downstairs one, and the addition of a stand-alone rain shower in one corner. One wall - the one that faces the direction in which they had come from - is made entirely of glass, and overlooks the grounds and lake below. Moonlight streams in from the window. Bucky peers out at the view while Steve continues to scope the room out.
The bed in the centre of the bedroom’s back wall is huge; fitted with luxurious, pure white sheets and numerous fluffy pillows covered in different shades of brown. It matches the warmth in the wood that makes up the walls. The frame is made of solid, dark wood, as are the night stands on either side of the bed, as well as the dresser to his left. The bed sits atop a huge, white shaggy rug that feels soft and warm beneath his feet. It certainly feels homey in Steve’s mind.
The next thing that catches Steve’s eye is the basket sitting on one of the bedside tables. Inside is an assortment of things that he instantly knows Stark himself had hand-picked for their first evening as a married couple. Steve turns several shades of red as he looks over its contents without a word--
Several different kinds of lubricant - some flavoured (seriously, Tony? Flavoured?), some not; a dozen different kinds of condoms (Ribbed? Why the hell would… Oh. Okay, yeah, I get that. Why do theses have little nubs on— Right. God, who the fuck uses these!?)… There are also wipes, facecloths, and a little note filling the basket. Steve scoffs. He picks up that note – the one Stark has fondly addressed to The Super-Soldier Husbands - and flips it open.
Wasn’t sure what you two liked, so I picked up a few things. Have fun, play safe, and don’t break any hips!
Steve rolls his big blue eyes and sets it aside. The next thing that warrants his attention is the couple dozen candles that litter the room; all alight and casting a warm flicker around the room. He smiles and flips the lamp that sits on the bedside table off, liking the semi-darkness of candlelight better than the artificial light bulb.
“Ooh, getting in the mood already are we, Rogers?” Bucky asks, as he moves across the large room.
“Would you be complaining?”
Bucky snorts under his breath and slips a hand underneath the two layers of fabric that covers Steve’s abdomen, lips brushing over the skin of his neck softly. “No,” he begins slyly as his hand creeps just below the edge of Steve’s jeans, making the blond’s breath hitch. “But there was a hot tub downstairs that I’m dying to try out.”
Steve groans, tipping his head back against his husband’s shoulder. “Tease,” he laughs. “Fine, c’mon.” Stepping out of Bucky’s hold, he strips his t-shirt and hoodie over his head. “Go grab a couple towels.”
Bucky smirks and gives a mock salute before heading into the bathroom for towels, while Steve makes his way down the stairs again and out onto the deck via one of the guest rooms. Little lanterns top the pillars that hold the balcony fence up, and lend their low light to the moon’s, making everything warm and cozy looking. To Steve’s surprise, the hot tub is already bubbling, and beside it sits a bucket of ice for their champagne. He shrugs and strips his jeans off before climbing into the churning, hot water. It feels glorious against his skin, and soothes away aches he didn’t even know he had.
“Oh sure, start without me why don’t you,” Bucky quips with a smirk as he jams the bottle down into the ice bucket. Steve watches through half-lidded eyes as his husband tauntingly takes his time removing his clothes, laying the towels down on the deck. The muscles in his back and shoulder ripple with each movement, and the plates of the metal arm catch the moon’s light so nicely that Steve begins to find it a little difficult to not reach out and drag the other man into the water.
But Bucky doesn’t make him wait too long. He slips into the water across from where Steve sits. Grey eyes flutter closed and a soft groan leaves his lip the minute he relaxes back against the tub. “Oh, we are so getting one of these,” he all but groans, sinking up to his neck.
Steve just laughs and reaches out for his husband’s arm. “Fine with me.”
The brunet scooches along the bench, until he’s beside Steve and resting his head on the blond’s shoulder. “Good,” he murmurs back. Steve feels a hand rest on his thigh… Sliding slowly from the inside to the top, inching higher and higher every so often. The blond just slouches lower in the water; props one foot up on the underwater bench across from where they sit, before turning his face towards Bucky’s to catch his lips in a slow, lazy kiss.
Bucky’s mouth opens eagerly beneath Steve’s and his metal hand reaches back to hold the back of Steve’s neck, deepening the kiss as much as he can. Fingers ghost along the length of Steve’s already hardening cock, and Bucky laughs deeply against his mouth.
They stay like that for a while; cuddling into each other in the steamy water, kissing slowly; touching with a teasing lightness until Bucky ends up in Steve’s lap. He straddles his husband - looking down at him with darkening grey eyes, hips grinding against Steve’s beneath the water. It feels impossibly good already and they haven’t even gotten started, really. The heat from the water makes their skin hypersensitive to each little motion, pulling little sighs from both of them as their dicks slide against one another’s. Bucky keeps his hips moving in a slow, almost lazy way while Steve reaches for the bottle of champagne, taking a mouthful directly from it before passing it up to him.
Bucky’s head tips back as he takes a long drink from the still half-full bottle, and Steve can’t help but watch the way his throat moves as he swallows; how the little droplets of water cling to his skin and slide down the column of perpetually-slightly tanned skin. He leans forward, tongue darting out to catch one of those droplets; trailing back up its path before letting his teeth graze the soft flesh under his jaw. Bucky groans, rocking his hips forward harder to make Steve all but groan against his skin.
And so it goes, for an hour or more - passing the bottle of champagne back and forth, grinding against each other, kissing, and generally just enjoying getting lost in one another.
But Steve can feel the way Bucky is already starting to get too aroused under the water’s surface; sees the way Bucky’s chest has adopted that telling flush that he gets when he’s really enjoying something. “Maybe —” Steve starts, before his mouth is assaulted by more hot kisses. “Mm! Maybe we should… go back inside?” Steve suggests. He rolls his hips up as Bucky’s come down against them; their mouths colliding again, tongues meeting. “Take it upstairs?”
“Yes, please,” Bucky huffs out against his skin, drawing out the first word – making it sound like a hiss - as Steve’s teeth nip at his collar bones. “Okay, stop now. Let’s go.”
A little reluctantly, Steve lets go of him and they both climb out of the water. Cool air hits his skin and it instantly prickles, the hairs on his arms raising as a light breeze blows by. Steve wraps a towel around his hips and picks up a second to dry his body off, before being hauled back inside the cabin and dragged up the stairs. Somehow, amidst all the kissing and groping, they find themselves in the still dimly lit bedroom, where the candles still burn and cast the room in a soft orange glow. Bucky’s fingers slowly pull the edge of Steve’s towel undone, letting it fall to the floor, eyes drinking in the sight of the naked body before him before Steve pulls him in by the hips for another rough kiss.
But Bucky cuts it short and catches Steve’s bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a rough little tug. A low laugh slips from the back of Bucky’s throat as Steve lets out a startled hiss, fingers gripping at Bucky’s hips a little tighter. Their eyes meet for a second before the brunet gives him a shove, and Steve lets himself fall onto the plush mattress behind him, naked and exposed.
“C’mere,” he says, holding out a hand to his husband. Bucky grins wickedly and shucks his towel before crawling up beside him, completely nude. He lays next to Steve, his metal arm tucked under the pillows while the fingers of his flesh hand trail from Steve’s naval to his lips, tracing their shape with the pad of his thumb. Steve turns onto his side and tugs the man into his arms, relishing in the way his skin feels against his own. Their lips meet in a slow kiss; arms winding around each other’s bodies, legs tangling around each other’s.
“How’d I end up with you, huh?” Steve asks, voice filled with as much warmth and love as he could possibly find. “You’re so fucking perfect…”
Bucky gives a soft laughs as he looks away with a tiny little smile on his lips. “C’mon Steve. You know that ain’t true.”
Steve just shakes his head, blinking lazily over at the other man. “You are to me,” he says. Bucky leans in, jointing their mouths again while shifting in as close as he can to Steve’s body. It’s more heated this time; needier and desperate. And that, coupled with the way his hand grips at Steve’s waist, makes the blond’s pulse quicken as he kisses back even harder. Steve only tightens his arm around Bucky and rolls onto his back, pulling the other man on top of him.
Bucky braces himself on his left arm and pulls his mouth from Steve’s to press kisses down his neck and shoulders while he shifts himself above the blond. Teeth nip at the sensitive skin below Steve’s ear; a tongue licks a stripe up his neck, following the line of his jugular at it pulses below the surface. He runs his hands down the waist of the brunet and grips at the firm muscles of his ass to force Bucky to roll their hips together.
Bucky’s hand cards through his hair, pushing blond strands from his eyes. Steve can already see the way that grey irises are being enveloped by black a little more every time Bucky grinds his hips down; feels himself getting more and more aroused, too. It doesn’t take long before the brunet is hard against him, and those lips are attacking his again. Steve sighs as they part over his mouth, and a tongue licks its way inside.
His hands travel of their own accord now; moving along the broad expanse of the other’s back, up into his hair, clutching at his shoulders… Everywhere. And the whole while, Bucky continues to grind down against him in a slow, nearing on torturous way that makes Steve’s breath hitch in his throat. It reminds him of the first time they ever got so intimate with one another, so many moons ago now.
He remembers the way Bucky had taken total control over the situation - how he’d drawn out the experience as long as he could before making Steve come so hard he could have sworn he’d seen stars. The friction between their bodies isn’t nearly enough now though, and Steve tears his mouth away from Bucky’s kiss.
“Goddamn, I want you,” he murmurs against his husband’s shoulder while he peppers it and his neck with fevered kisses. “So bad.”
“All in good time, baby,” Bucky purrs in his ear, before nipping at its lobe. “We got all week.” Steve whimpers just as the others hand fists in his hair to pull his head back down to the pillows. “I swear, I’m going to fuck you on every surface in this place…” Teeth graze his flesh, lips latch onto it, and Bucky sucks hard enough to raise a little red mark. They both know that it’ll fade within minutes, and it amuses Bucky to see just how fast it disappears. Bucky laughs quietly then, continuing to lave the side of Steve’s neck and shoulder in kisses and licks, leaving several more marks in the process.
“Gonna make you scream… ’cause you know, no one can hear us…” he says, continuing to grind as he speaks. He releases Steve’s hair to run his hand down the blond’s waist. It comes to a stop at his hip, Bucky’s thumb resting in the joint between his thighs and pelvis and his fingers splaying out across the smooth flesh of his ass. His breath comes out rougher now, and Steve can feel the way his cock is already hard as a rock between their abdomens. His own gives a slight twitch at the prospect of doing nothing aside from Bucky for the next seven days, and he sighs breathlessly against the other man’s skin.
Soft, slick lips move down Steve’s neck and teeth nip at his collar bones, making Steve writhe just a little bit below the body of his lover. It isn’t often that Bucky takes charge like this - but when he does, Steve knows he’s in for a good time. Bucky’s tongue flicks across his nipple and Steve jolts, sucking in a sharp breath through clenched teeth.
“God, you’re so fucking sensitive,” Bucky laughs, voice gone low and seductive now. His teeth graze the little nub softly at first, pulling a breathy sigh from Steve’s throat before clamping down, and the brunet sucks hard.
Steve reaches up to run his hand through thick brown hair, pulling the elastic from it and making the other roll his eyes. He’d threatened to cut it off several times over the past few years, but every time, Steve found a way to talk him out of it. He likes it long like this - loves being able to run his hands through it, grabbing handfuls of it while he’d fuck Bucky into the mattress.
Steve’s arches his neck, driving his head into the pillows as Bucky moves across his chest to his other nipple - making it hard and sensitive, Steve’s eyes squeezing shut. By now, he’s convinced that the majority of the blood in his body has rushed south to his crotch, he’s so fucking hard. “C’mon Buck, don’t fucking tease…” he whines, giving his lover’s hair a little tug.
Bucky lifts his head, and instantly Steve wishes he hadn’t. His lips are flushed an obscenely gorgeous shade of red; slick and shiny looking from their kissing. Grey eyes are blackened now, and just a hint of colour has made an appearance on soft cheeks. The way his hair is falling in his face gives Bucky a dangerous and sexy look, and it elicits a soft whimper from Steve again.
“… Fuck,” he whispers, before reaching up to haul Bucky down into a rough kiss. A hand reaches between them then and wraps around Steve’s cock, stroking him slow with a firm grip. The friction from the calloused palm makes him rip his mouth away again to suck in a ragged breath through parted lips.
“Feels that good already, huh?” Bucky asks in his ear. Steve nods weakly, rocking his hips up in time with Bucky’s motions. The brunet laughs low, taunting, as he resumes kissing a trail down the centre of Steve’s chest, biting down every so often just to hear the little noises Steve makes when he does it. “I can make it feel better, ya know,” he murmurs, lips pressing to Steve’s abs. Each kissed patch of skin feels like it’s burning, and it sends another little wave of pleasure down Steve’s spine. “Would you like that, Stevie?”
“Yes…” Steve breathes, neck arching again. He feels the way Bucky nuzzles at the smooth skin of his lower abdomen, his breath ghosting across his cock. His tongue traces along the thick vein on the underside, and Steve bites down on his lower lip to keep from moaning when Bucky’s lips wrap around the head, tongue flicking lazily at his slit. Steve’s hand fists in the sheets, while the other rests on the back of his husband’s neck. Bucky bobs his head up and down Steve’s length, cheeks hollowing out and Steve… Steve is in Heaven. The inside of his mouth is soft and hot like velvet, and his tongue swirls around the head of his dick so deliciously each time he moves up.
“Jesus Christ, Bucky - ah - your mouth should be - ohh - illegal…” he says through gritted teeth.
Bucky laughs and the reverberations send a new kind of pleasure through Steve’s body. He pulls off Steve’s dick with a wet pop - though he continues to stroke him with his human hand - looks up with a wicked little grin. “Oh baby, we haven’t even started yet.” He runs his metal hand up the length of Steve’s torso, fingers digging in a little bit as they slide back down again. “Turn over.”
Steve looks down at him again and arches an eyebrow, but Bucky stares at him with that perfectly seductive smirk before he sits back on his heels. “Excuse me?” he asks.
“You heard me, soldier. Turn over, now.”
It’s supposed to be an order - one that Steve decides to obey. With some manoeuvring, Steve gets onto his belly with Bucky still kneeling between his legs. He props himself up on his forearms, then shoves a pillow under his hips for some extra comfort. Two hands — one cool steel; the other, hot flesh — run up the back of his thighs, over the curve of his ass, and up his back as Bucky leans over him to press more kisses down the length of his spine.
“Fuck, Steve, your body is a fuckin’ work of art…” he says, not for the first time. “Sculpted like Adonis, skin like fuckin’ silk…” His lips press against each of his vertebrae; hands sliding down either side of his waist. Bucky presses his thumbs into the two little dimples at the small of his back, and his tongue laps up some of the sweat that’s already started to run down between Steve’s shoulder blades. “Wanna make you feel like the god you are, Steve - show you just how incredible you are.”
Steve’s head falls forward as his husband nuzzles at the back of his neck, pressing open mouthed kisses along his skin. “Bucky” is all Steve is able to say, his brain already going fuzzy. His hips rock into the pillow below them, giving himself some of the friction he so desperately needs right now. But Bucky just smiles against his shoulder and resumes worshiping every single inch of Steve’s body.
It’s a slow kind of torture that Bucky knows drives him insane. The brunet always knew how insecure Steve had been with his body before the war - before the serum. And after, once the serum was pumped into his veins and turned him into the specimen that he is now, Steve was still more than a little unsure of himself. He wasn’t used to the looks that women — and some men — would give him as he’d paraded around the stages with the chorus girls, selling war bonds to the masses.
He wasn’t sure how to react to the advances made on him in various situations, especially when it came to Peggy. But Bucky... Once they’d finally, finally made love for the first time, he’d made Steve see what he never had before. The way Bucky had lavished every inch of Steve with kisses and little nips, the way he’d looked at him - everything he’d done had been to make Steve feel as perfect as he saw him.
And the crazy part was, it had worked.
Of course, every subsequent time afterwards was just for the fun on it. Bucky had gotten off on the way Steve would helplessly keen for him to stop fucking around and do something. And Steve got even more riled up when Bucky would wait just that little bit longer.
Bucky’s hands knead at his ass, thumbs spreading him open as he presses a final kiss to the dip of Steve’s back. Steve’s breath hitches in his throat as he feels the other’s tongue slowly run from his balls up to his hole, and his body gives in involuntary shiver. Bucky laughs to himself at the reaction and leans down to run the tip of his tongue around the tight ring of muscles again. The blond can’t fight back the little moan that leaves him when he feels Bucky finally stop teasing, lapping at him to loosen him up and sweet Mary, mother of God, that feels so damn good.
He huffs out little breaths through an open mouth, clutching at the sheets again while Bucky keeps on eating him out. Bucky would never admit it to anybody, but he fucking loves doing this - loves the way it makes Steve moan and whine for more; how it gets him so worked up that he can’t hold off any more and comes all over the sheets. He’s done that a few times, but every time he keeps on going until Steve gets hard again and begs for more.
Steve feels his muscles start to give a couple minutes later, and he’s squeezing his eyes shut, breathing harder and faster than before when he feels that tongue start to fuck itself in and out of his body. “Bucky…” he gasps, head dropping back between his shoulders. Each breath is punctuated with quiet little ‘auh’s’ and his hips cant forward and back of their own accord, stimulating him from both sides. It’s a difficult decision, whether or not he wants to provide his aching cock with the friction it wants, or if he wants to rock back and let Bucky’s tongue open him up, bury itself inside him, and make him fall apart.
But before he can choose, Bucky’s flesh hand lets go of him and slides down the curve of his ass, the solid muscles of his thighs… He feels the same hand run up the inside of his thigh, its fingers ghosting over the sensitive skin teasingly. Bucky’s tongue stops then and this time Steve does whine - almost embarrassingly high in his throat as the brunet moves back up the bed. He lifts his head and lets his eyes flutter open, watching as his husband digs through the basket of goodies that Stark had left them. He huffs a laugh and picks up a lubricant — mint favoured, oh Lord — and grins down at Steve.
“Oh, I’m not done with you yet; no worries there, babe,” he says, before immediately resuming his previous position.
Metal fingers spread him open again, and that devilish tongue resumes its play, making Steve groan and fall face down on the mattress, writhing in intense pleasure. He barely even notices the click of the lube bottle opening, until he feels the slick pad of a finger replace the tongue, pushing into him ever so slowly. The already lax muscles give easily under the gentle pressure, and Steve exhales a long breath, face nuzzling at the soft white cotton below his face.
“C’mon, Buck… You know I can take it,” Steve pants.
Bucky’s lips trail up his back again, and his metal hand braces his weight on the bed as he lies beside Steve. “I know,” he agrees, nipping at the place where Steve’s shoulder blade juts out from his skin. “But I wanna take my time with you tonight.” The digit is already sliding in and out of Steve with ease, and it isn’t enough.
When Bucky does things like this, it’s never enough until the brunet’s seated balls deep inside him, relentlessly fucking him into the mattress until Steve’s eyes are rolling back in his head and he’s all but screaming Bucky’s name. Bucky seems to sense this and adds a second finger, stretching him that little bit more; watching every move he makes through half-lidded eyes.
He opens his eyes and turns his face toward Bucky, watching him as he watches Steve. The brunet pushes himself up onto his knees, fucking his fingers into Steve the entire time, and grins with parted lips. His cybernetic hand runs down his own body slowly, as if he was putting on a show of it, before it wraps around his cock. Bucky strokes himself slowly, matching the pace in which he’s fingering Steve. Steve can’t help but stare, salivating at the stunning sight before him.
“Somethin’ wrong, Stevie?” Bucky purrs. Steve watches hungrily as his wrist twists his hand around his dick, and Bucky’s upper lip pulls up into a slight snarl.
“Hang on a second,” Steve somehow manages to say, reaching back to reluctantly pull Bucky’s fingers from inside him. The brunet arches an eyebrow, but lets himself be pushed off the bed so he’s standing on floor. Steve then manoeuvres himself around so he’s lying across the mattress horizontally, and grabs the back of Bucky’s thighs to pull him against the edge of the bed. He slides his hands up and down those powerful muscles, lips pressing kisses across his lover’s stomach and hipbones.
He teasingly pulls back enough to flick his tongue across the head of Bucky’s cock, making the other man sigh. Hot flesh and bone fingers slide down his back - blunt nails biting into the flesh - before pulling back, only to come down in a sharp smack against Steve’s right ass cheek. It’s almost impossible to fight off the growl that leaves him while he looks up at the Bucky, just as he leans in to take him into his mouth.
Bucky sighs louder this time, his head falling back as Steve’s mouth moves up and down his length with a slow pace, tongue swirling around the head when he pulls back and flattening out against the muscle as he slides back down. Steve watches from the corner of his eye as Bucky reaches for the lube again, and pours a little more onto his fingers before sliding them back into Steve’s body. He groans then, eyes fluttering closed as Bucky fucks them in and out, picking up the pace whenever Steve hollows out his cheeks and sucks harder.
The sound of Bucky’s laboured inhales and harsh exhales fills the room, revealing the pleasure that Steve is giving him. His left hand rests at the base of Steve’s neck, and Steve’s grip at Bucky’s hips, his thighs - anywhere he can reach. But despite the way Bucky fingers him a little rougher than normal, it still isn’t enough. He can tell that Bucky’s purposely avoiding his prostate right now, not wanting to get the blond too riled up. Either way, it feels fucking incredible and Steve can’t fend off the moan that leaves him, only to be lost in his husband’s skin. It’s not until Bucky adds a third finger that he crooks them just the right way, grazing across Steve’s sweet spot with every thrust. The blond pulls his mouth from Bucky’s cock and moans sharply.
“Oh God… Bucky…” Steve breathes, grabbing at the back of the other’s thighs as he arches his hips up into the touch. “Ngh - yessss…”
All too soon, those fingers leave him and he’s pushed away and onto his back again. He can see Bucky now: eyes dark, lips flushed from being bitten on, cock hard and already leaking pre come as he stares down at Steve. Bucky’s chest rises and falls quickly as he admires Steve’s body again while he crawls back onto the bed. His left hand is already smearing a light coat of lubricant along his flushed cock, but the look in his eyes as they meet with Steve’s isn’t the lusty one Steve had been expecting.
No, it’s something more. Despite their half-mast nature, and the fact that there’s little to no grey iris left, they bear a look of such pure and unfiltered love that Steve can’t help but smile.
“C’mere…” he whispers, reaching for the other’s arm. Bucky obliges and lays back down, shifting on top of the blond’s body and wiping the excess lube off in the sheets before bracing himself on his forearm.
He feels the way the mood in the room changes the second their eyes met; feels the way Bucky’s movements go from hot and needy and lust driven to something more... Fingers trace the shape of his jaw and card through the neatly trimmed hair behind his ears; slide down the side of his neck with a gentle, feather-light touch. They follow the slope of his shoulder, the line of his waist… Like the brunet is committing every last inch of him to memory, drawing the moment out for as long as he can.
They’re so close like this that Steve could probably count every single lash on Bucky’s eyelids, their chests pressed flush together and already damp with a mist of sweat. Bucky shifts Steve’s hips to the right angle and wraps long, powerful legs around his waist so Steve’s feet rest on the back of his thighs. He glances downward as he uses his right hand to align himself with Steve’s opening. Lips meet Steve’s and he’s almost overwhelmed by the sincerity in the kiss. Bucky breaks away first and presses his forehead to Steve’s, looking down into passion-filled blues that stare right back.
“Do you remember the first time we slept together?” he asks, voice low and filled with a sudden emotion that Steve hadn’t expected.
“Of course I do,” Steve replies, just as he reaches up to push the dark strands from his lover’s face.
Those lips connect with a spot just under his jaw, and Bucky nuzzles affectionately at his neck. He still hasn’t made any move to push his cock into Steve’s stretched and ready hole. Steve wraps his free arm under Bucky’s left and traces the lines of old scars left across his strong, broad back.
“You were so gentle… Took your time… Fuck, it wasn’t just sex that night. It felt like so much more, ” Bucky say as he mouths at Steve’s neck again. “I never thought I could be more in love with you than I was then… I was so wrong, Steve… So wrong…” His words are soft, almost a whisper into Steve’s skin, and Steve’s heart fills up, too.
“Shhh,” he breathes into the other’s ear, stroking his fingers through silky, dark hair. “Don’t talk, baby, just show me… Let me feel it, too.”
It’s that moment that the brunet chooses to gently push the head of his cock into Steve’s body, making his breath hitch in his throat. The stretch is a little more than he’d anticipated — always is when Bucky fucks him, because it so rarely happens — and he flinches the littlest bit. Bucky’s hand buries itself into Steve’s thick blond hair, though he doesn’t pull or grab; just runs through the short, soft strands as he pushes in deeper. Steve can tell that Bucky has his lips parted - hears the way his exhales are shaky - and a soft, high little sigh leaves him.
By the time he’s got himself seated as deep into Steve’s body as he can get, his right hand has slid its way up Steve’s side, down the length of his arm, and entwining their fingers against the mattress. Bucky leans in and lets his lips capture the blond’s again. His hips roll forward slowly, pushing inside that little bit more before arching back to withdraw, making them both sigh in pleasure.
Steve lets his head fall back against the pillows as he gazes up onto the face of the man he loves more than anything. And Bucky looks back, mirroring that adoring expression. With their bodies connected like this - coupled with the slow, almost tender way Bucky is moving within him - Steve can’t help but feel the same rush of emotion that the other had been feeling.
He understands now what Bucky had meant by their first time feeling like so much more. He’d understood then, too. But now, in this moment — on their fucking honeymoon, after getting fucking married — Steve feels it again. Like this means more - this gentle, intimate moment. He shakes his hand free from the other’s and slides it up to the back of Bucky’s neck, pulling him down so their foreheads touch; eyes still connected.
But the slow pace doesn’t last too much longer before Bucky picks it up, thrusting into him with a little more force and making Steve gasp when his dick grazes across his prostate. “Jesus Christ…” Steve groans. His eyes flutter shut, entire body shuddering as Bucky keeps hitting the same spot. “Fuck, you feel so good. Ah — More… Harder — Ohh…”
Bucky obliges, fucking into him harder while he buries his face in Steve’s neck and shoulder. He pulls nearly the entire way out each time, pushing back in as deep as he can and moaning softly into Steve’s skin. Steve’s hands roam everywhere he can reach; up into his hair, clawing up his shoulders and back, gripping tight to his hips to urge him for more.
Bucky can read him like a book - knows when to pick it up or slow down, when to fuck him harder, when to be gentle again. He knows that when Steve clenches around him, he needs to back off if he wants it to last; that when he digs his nails into Bucky’s lower back, he’d better give it to him harder. He knows when Steve wants something new, too - which is why Steve doesn’t bother arguing when Bucky stops and rolls onto his back, before sitting up against the bed’s headboard and manoeuvring Steve so that he straddles his hips. Steve looks down at his lover as he impales himself on his cock, taking every last inch of him inside.
Their lips meet in a slow, sultry kiss as Steve starts to roll his hips forward and back. Bucky’s hands run all across his body when Steve breaks their kiss to arch his back and moan into the dimly lit room. He can feel grey eyes on his body, watching the way he lets it follow the motion of his hips in a full on body roll like some kind of exotic dancer; feels the heat radiating off flushed skin beneath his hands as they slide up a perfectly defined chest. Steve bites down on his lip, watching Bucky watch him, and listens to the way each breath is accompanied by soft little moans. Hands grip at his ass, the flesh one giving him another rough smack before grabbing at him.
Sweat beads on Steve’s skin, sliding down his neck and chest. The flames from the many candles flicker. The light makes their skin shimmer with every movement, and fuck, Bucky looks so good when he stares up at him like that. Steve picks his pace up more, feeling the way Bucky’s cock seems to stir his insides up with each rock of his hips. The brunet moans louder, clenching his teeth as his back arches up.
“Goddamnit, Steve,” he all but growls; fingers digging into Steve’s skin hard enough to leave bruises. His human hand lets go and slides up and around his thigh before wrapping around his cock, jerking him off quick and a little rough.
That’s enough to pull a low moan from Steve’s throat and force his head back in pleasure. His hands slide up Bucky’s sweat-soaked chest and neck, before one braces against the headboard and the other scrapes down the solid body below him.
“C’mon baby,” Bucky urges, thrusting his hips up into Steve. He cries out in pleasure, gripping Bucky’s arm tight as he starts to let himself rise and fall on Bucky’s cock while the other fucks into him.
Bucky stills him a couple minutes later and flips him back onto the mattress - never missing a beat - and keeps the pace hard and rough. Steve’s so close and he knows Bucky is, too; sees the way his abdomen clenches with each push. He’s holding himself up with his left arm, and uses the right to guide Steve’s leg back so his foot rests against Bucky’s side. He leans forward and the two exchange rough, sloppy kisses, drinking in the sounds the other makes. Steve’s head flops back against the pillows as he gasps for air, reaching down to grip on to the back of Buck’s thighs as he fucks into him even harder.
“God, Buck — Ngh — m’gonna come —Fuck, yes, harder, yes!” He reaches between them and takes his own dick in hand, stripping it hard and fast in tandem with the way Bucky moves. “Ohh yes, yes… auh… Oh fuck, oh God…” He can’t help the words that spill from his mouth, and Bucky doesn’t seem to care. But then the brunet angles his hips just the right way and Steve is seeing stars. His eyes fly open and stare up into the grey ones that look back at him.
“Come for me, baby,” Bucky says through a groan. “C’mon… Come with me. Fuck, you feel so good… So fucking perfect. So —ahh, fuck — goddamn good.” Steve feels the telltale warmth pooling in his body; feels the way all his muscles start to tense and his eyes flutter shut again. “No, baby. Look at me,” Bucky orders, and Steve obliges, opening his eyes again. “Jesus fucking Christ… M’gonna - oh fuck, m’gonna come Steve… Steve… S-Steve….”
He can’t hold on any longer - not with the way Bucky’s constantly striking his prostate with each thrust - and he comes hard, in hot spurts over his own fist and stomach as he moans Bucky’s name. Bucky follows him a split second later, thrusting into him in an uncoordinated way as he spills inside Steve. They both ride out the waves of climax that wash over them; bodies shaking each time Bucky rolls his hips into Steve’s now overly-sensitive body. He stills himself and catches Steve in a warm, passionate kiss.
“I love you,” he whispers as he pulls back, their foreheads pressed together.
“I love you, too,” Steve replies.
Once they catch their breath, Bucky pulls himself from within Steve’s body, leaving the blond feeling suddenly very empty and open. He digs into the basket beside the bed and tosses over a facecloth so Steve can clean himself up, and does the same to himself. Steve throws the cloth across the room into the hamper once he’s finished and gets up to pull back the blankets on the bed, discarding the now sweat-dampened —among other things — comforter onto the floor before crawling into bed. Bucky joins him a minute later, pulling Steve into his arms.
It’s silent for a while, both men still basking in the blissful post-orgasm haze as they lay wound up in one another’s arms, their legs tangled together beneath the sheets. By now, most of the candles have burnt themselves out, and the room is dark, save for the light that’s starting to creep into the sky outside. Steve shifts in closer to his husband and rests his head against his chest while Bucky’s fingers run lazily through his hair, scratching at his scalp.
This was all he’d ever wanted: peace and quiet, warmth and love, and Bucky Barnes. He runs his thumb along the golden band on his left ring finger again and chuckles to himself.
“What?” Bucky asks softly.
“You realize we’re married now,” Steve says, still somewhat lost in the idea that yes, he can properly assume that he’s going to spend the rest of his life with this man – his best friend. That ‘Till death do us part’ was now going to be the truth; that maybe they’d adopt a couple kids, or even find a surrogate so they could have one of their own.
“Damn straight I do,” Bucky murmurs, pressing his lips to Steve’s temple. “I told you before, only one I ever wanted to marry was you.”
Steve’s lips pull into a sleepy little smile as he tightens his arms around the other’s body. “Me too,” he replies. Bucky smiles into his hair and hugs him in close, drifting off to sleep without another word.
Steve lays awake for a little while longer, staring out the floor-length window that sits opposite the bed. The sun has already started to rise and the morning sky is just starting to glow that deep purple of pre-dawn. Birds outside already sing their songs, and for once, he doesn’t even feel obligated to get up for his morning run. Fuck it, he thinks while he settles down in his lover’s strong, warm arms. I’m on my honeymoon. I’ll sleep in for a change. His eyes sag closed, the steady beat of Bucky’s heart lulling him off into a peaceful sleep.