Lights began to twinkle awake through the cityscape, the grandiose edifices of which formed a shadow against the twilight hues. The air was laden with a myriad of aromas, street food and exhaust fumes occupying the top notes.
Bucky walked through the crowd, dressed to perfection in elegant formals, pensive as usual; just another body drifting through, unnoticed and irrelevant. Living in the city for so long, his mind was wired to block out the noises around him; they played in the background like a forgotten rhythm of chaos that now denoted home. He walked aiming for the park, the only touch of nature that this city had to offer, a place that his legs would take him to these days, even without an active thought. As a matter of fact, he could go on about any mundane, day-to-day task without fully engaging himself; that was the extent to which his body and mind were tuned to monotony.
The visits to the promenade had started as a means to avoid the rush hour. He sat on the marble benches, watching the colossal fountain, which rested at the heart of the little park, and waited until the traffic in the surrounding roads tapered to a smooth flow. It had become a thing of routine too, and the routine was no different this evening as well.
Upon reaching his intended destination, he wiped the fallen leaves off of the bench and sat down, slumping a little as though the weight of the week had collapsed down on him. Pulling the hems of his long coat together, he took in a few breaths of the cool air; that with the reminder of the onset of weekends worked magic on his tangled nerves. Just one more thing could make the end of yet another strenuous week a little better - a glimpse of a certain someone.
Bucky could not pinpoint the date or time, but he knew this very place was where he had first seen him. A pair of eyes, among a hundred passing, evading ones, latched onto his for the longest moment, as though they had searched for his through ages. Bucky had wanted to look away in rising inhibition, but that captivating face had made it difficult to do so. Time stretched as their gazes remained locked and the world that surrounded them reduced to mere blurry blotches in the background. And there, in those cursory seconds, under the soft scrutiny of those eyes, Bucky was no longer invisible. He had been almost afraid to blink it away, but a distraction that came in the form of a coworker had had the mirage of recognition perish as soon as it formed. Bucky had felt an unfathomable pang at the loss of the transitory sensation, and, no matter what he had done for the rest of that day, he could not shake its unpleasant trace. Little had he known that these encounters were to become more common than he would have ever imagined.
From that day on, he began to see the beautiful stranger frequently, if not at the park, then at the food stalls during lunch, in the nearby stores or at the multistorey carpark they seemed to share. It did not take long for the man and their shared moments to became somewhat of a fixation that Bucky looked forward to. Each of their encounters soon pulsed like a beat of ennewed life in a listless world.
Today, however, the stranger was nowhere to be found. Bucky had stepped out of his office building one too many times than usual, with the same hope faintly thumping in some nook of his heart, but had been disappointed each time. He dismissed away the negative reckonings for the stranger’s unusual disappearance, and threw himself into quotidian tasks to disallow them from creeping back in. But those thoughts were now striking back with a vengeance as time slipped through his fingers. He may have taken a day off, or left his job, or may have moved away – so many possibilities replayed over and again in Bucky’s mind, all leaving him hurting a little.
The vibrant reds of twilight skies drained into blueish blackness. The dissonances of honking vehicles were subdued, and the headlights and taillights swept past faster in the encircling roads. He should head back home now; there is nothing to wait for here, some sane part of his mind carped. This was what had become of his life, living off of the crumbs of rapture, spread out inadvertently by a man whom he knew nothing about. Months had gone by in timid trepidation; he never made an attempt to learn more of the man, nor had the stranger made a move. Then again, what had he hoped for; a love story that would live through time? Bucky scoffed at his own juvenile irrationality. Some lives were meant to fade, just this way - overlooked, invalid, trivial; the details of their existence shunned as trifling by neglecting eyes, even when they still breathed.
Bucky sighed as the accustomed acerbic anxiousness began to seep into his thoughts. He cut it off from spreading with a well learned method – giving up on hopes. At least then he knew he had nothing to expect from a world that took and never gave anything in return. Drawing in a deep breath, he sat upright, actively trying to drive out the unwanted thoughts. He should look forward to a good meal, which he had been skipping all day. Probably throw in a movie and a couple of beers, all on the comfort of his couch, that should be enough to remedy whatever it was that he was feeling. Little joys in life; he could live with that.
Checking the time, he pocketed his phone, and dug out the car keys while at it. He stood up, seeming almost insouciant, smoothing down his coat, and readying to leave with all unwarranted hopes abandoned.
“You seem to frequent this spot a lot.” a sonorous voice jarred him out of his thoughts. Composing himself swiftly from the mild unease, Bucky gracefully turned to its source.
As he pivoted around, his probing gaze fell upon the face that he had hoped to see the whole day. Bucky stood flabbergasted by the stranger’s startling presence; but, transcending that was the fact that he was now conversing with him after all the time that had gone by in vain. Then again, it would only be a conversation if Bucky had spoken a few words of his own. He realized that he needed to say something, and say something soon. He collected himself with much difficulty, schooling his features to near perfection.
“Only place that offers some peace of mind.” There; that wasn’t too hard, he thought to himself. “I see you around here a lot too.” he embellished, with a calmness that perfectly masked his unnerved state.
“I come here whenever I am in need for a breath of fresh air.” the stranger said, glancing around, deliberately avoiding Bucky’s eyes. “It helps you think.”
“Yeah, something like that.” Bucky huffed, recollecting that all his thoughts, during a good chunk of the time he spent here, had been of this man.
Several seconds passed between them in a mutual hush; but it seemed as though their senses had awakened and that they were now fully aware of each other’s tiniest of movements.
“There's uh...” the other man initiated, hesitating for a moment, jamming his hands in the front pockets of his sable overcoat, appearing tensed from the look on his face. “There's a hotel nearby. Would you like to join me?” the words left that mouth with some evident disinclination.
Bucky was lost for words yet again. All he could do was stare at the other man, taken aback by the proposition which meant all but one thing. Months had passed without this man ever attempting to speak to him, and now, when he finally has, he dared to advance with such brazenness. Bucky studied him, unable to avoid the disquieted expression on that impeccable face; the man looked anxious and a little dazed.
So, this was it then. All those meaningful glances, just to be picked up from a park for a quickie. Bucky looked away for a moment, disillusioned, hoping that his budding irritation was not apparent.
“I'm sorry.” he heard the man say, voice now feeble against the splishing sound of the fountain, urging Bucky to look his way again. “I think, I may have read this wrong.” the stranger added; guilt, more than embarrassment, plain on his face.
“You're not wrong.” Bucky stunned himself with the alacrity at which his own response came to the man’s rescue.
He watched as the head, that had seconds ago lowered in discomfiture, jerked up; slightly widened eyes meeting his with a new-found keenness. Relief spread over that stunning face quickly at Bucky’s words.
If this man was going to be a one-night-stand, then Bucky would have it. Been a while he had felt the touch of another person. It might as well be him. Love stories were for the fortunate, and he was anything but.
“Well, umm...” the other man began, searching for words, as though bewildered by a sudden spark of spirit, “Would you like to have dinner before we head there?”
The stranger earned a smile from Bucky. He should have probably started off with that instead of skipping straight to carnal needs. Something told Bucky that the other man was probably realizing his mistake too.
“Yes. I'd very much like that.” Bucky acquiesced to the suggestion; at least it would make this feel less like cruising and more like an impromptu date.
“I’m Steve.” the man said, taking a few calculated steps toward Bucky, and holding out his arm for a handshake.
The whole conversation seemed to be on an inverted track, like they were travelling back in time.
“James.” Bucky took his hand. Sturdy fingers wrapped tighter around his. At the shortened proximity, Bucky could smell the man – the clean, refreshing scent of soap and fine cologne.
They held each other’s hands for longer than necessary, the contact of their fingers alone leaving sparks across Bucky’s skin, causing him to reluctantly pull away before it intensified.
Indeed, it has been too long since he was touched in a certain way.
Despite the mild drizzle, they had decided to leave their cars at the parking lot, as their destinations were all at walking distance. Steve led the way, striding several feet ahead of Bucky, his towering presence streaming through the gradually waning crowd. Occasionally, he had turned back to look at Bucky, possibly checking if he still followed or had not gotten lost in the throng. Somehow, the gesture warmed Bucky’s heart, though it was too little to get excited over. After all, unspoken limits were already set on this brief affair before it had even begun.
Crossing the street, Bucky waited for the few people to clear the way, before calling out to his companion for the night.
“Do you not want to be seen with me?” Bucky asked when in a closer proximity, making Steve stop on his tracks and face him. Bucky had not relayed a grievance, rather, he was curious as to why, from him, the man was distancing himself.
“I did not want to make you feel uncomfortable.” Steve stated without a blink.
This whole meeting was anything but comfortable, he should know.
“Well, I am now.” Bucky shrugged. He too halted, still spaced away from the other man.
Steve regarded Bucky with a closed expression; those gentle eyes never leaving his as the world moved around them in its typical tempo. Steve walked toward him, stopping few inches away, too close for comfort now. When he dipped his head, as if in reverence, the strands of hair sticking out brushed past Bucky’s forehead. The refreshing smell, in amplified strength, now pierced through Bucky’s nostrils. Something dark and enticing shifted within him as the scent coalesced within him, and his heart began to thunder rapidly.
Fingers pushed in through Bucky’s loosened fist in an uncertain touch, trembling lightly against his mellow palm. Bucky only briefly glanced at their connected hands before looking back up at Steve’s face. Those lashy eyes were still lowered allowing Bucky a leeway to study the features he had only admired from afar. He wondered if the man was aware how breathtaking he looked, like someone had dreamed him up. A faint ache thudded awake within him; he was but only a dream - so close, just within his grasp, yet something he can’t hold onto. As though in rebellion against that truth, Bucky’s fist closed in a tender grip around the snooping fingers.
Striking eyes swept up to meet his at the clutch. Then, with one more careful step toward him, Steve closed the distance. Tipping his head back a little, he placed a tender kiss between Bucky’s brows. Bucky drew a sharp intake of breath, almost inaudible, but his stance remained unwavering, reveling silently in the affectionate gesture.
“Who wouldn’t want to be seen with you, Bucky?” the tip of Steve’s nose grazed down the bridge of his, Steve’s warm breath stroking his moist skin.
It must look like a scene from a movie – a kiss under the drizzling skies, the city lights forming a beautiful bokeh backdrop. Maybe it wasn’t all that impossible, these simple yet surreal moments, even if fleeting.
Ignoring the tingle on his forehead, Bucky tried to free himself from the heat emanating from the other man’s body. Just as he mustered his wits, to allow himself to ponder over the words that left the tempting mouth, a realization struck. Bucky’s head jerked up, his questioning gaze meeting Steve’s. How had he known his pet-name?
“How did you…” “We should… get going.” They spoke at the same time.
“The place I want to take you; it closes early.” Steve said, wiping droplets of water down his temple.
He should save the question for later, Bucky thought; or maybe, he would not ask of it at all. It’s easier to let go when you know less.
There was no eatery in the locale that Bucky was not familiar with. He must have visited each at least once; if not alone, then with company from his workplace. But he was more in the habit of ordering in while at work. It was easier and less time consuming that way. Dinners, however, were often a home cooked meal, usually lighter on the calories so he could sleep better.
This pizza joint in particular, which Steve had taken him to, was one of his go to places on days he wanted to spoil himself a little or on days he needed to lift his spirits; but they had mostly been orders off of the phone. Maybe he should have visited the place more often; the cozy ambiance of the fall décor, the low painted ceilings, the warm lights, and the even warmer smiles of the servers - this place definitely offered more than a meal.
“I sure am glad to see you bringing a friend along, Stevie.” Claudine, the older lady Steve had introduced as the owner of the place, beamed as she spoke. Her motherly affection immediately clasping one’s heart.
“He is always eating alone.” she said, turning to Bucky, lips drooping a little with compassion, shaking her head as if she was worrying for her own kid, while filling their glasses. Steve chortled uneasily at the disclosure.
So, this wasn’t a regular affair then. Somehow, that piece of information was beginning to soothe Bucky’s mind. He glanced at Steve for a moment, the man was airily looking through the menu, but it was clear that he was embarrassed.
“Thank you, Ma’am.” looking away from Steve, Bucky said as the lady was done with the task, fondness unintentionally gleaming his own eyes. He should call his mum tomorrow; he made a mental note.
“What are you in the mood for?” Steve asked when they were left alone, innocently from the look on his face, but Bucky could not hide his playful smirk despite himself.
Steve shook his head when the entendre sunk in, bashfully smiling as he leafed through the menu.
“I mean,” Steve’s face had lit up, almost childlike, brows arching up as he clarified, “for dinner, do you have any preference?”
“I’ll go for what I usually order off the menu.” Bucky responded without making things more awkward, catching on the little tremor in the other man’s words and finding it endearing.
“Which one is it?” Steve asked, dropping his menu on the table and turning it around, forgetting that Bucky was holding one too.
Somehow, the clumsiness of the other man was pleasing him more than it should. Bucky bit his lips as he tried hard to hide another smile. Playing along, he closed his own copy of the menu and set it aside, then, pointed down at the picture of his favourite pie. Steve tilted his head, turning the menu back at an angle, reading the description of the sauce and the toppings.
“That sounds great! We’ll have that then.” Steve declared, nodding his head as he did.
“So, what will it be boys?” Claudine was at their table as if on cue. Pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, she began to write down the order, which Steve began to relay.
At some point, Bucky drifted away from the active conversation, his gaze skimming over the other man’s features, then slipping further down, intently watching the bob of his Adam’s Apple, the hollow of his neck, and the scruff over the hard muscles peeking through the black button-down shirt.
Bucky shifted in his seat, sneakily pulling at the fabric over his loins. He had been semi-hard since this whole ordeal began and, now, his focus on the other man was not helping with the matters. Nonetheless, he couldn’t help but observe more.
Steve was unusually dressed today, Bucky noticed. He always saw the man in a full-dress suit, experimenting with dark and light shades, all suiting him perfectly, with expensive ties and accessories that blend harmoniously with the attire. But today he looked different, in all black, no tie around his neck or fancy accessories to go with, sleeves rolled a quarter way up and the first few buttons of his shirt undone. His hair too was untidily combed back, yet, he looked as beautiful as he ever had. His eyes though, looked tired, lids languidly blinking each time. And in one such lazy movement, those eyes now stared at him. Bucky’s body pulled back a little, as if pinned by the glare.
“What would you like to drink, Bucky?” Steve seemed to be repeating the question.
“Water. Water would do.” he clumsily grabbed the glass of cold water, as if driving a point, and downed a few gulps as the two people eyed him funnily.
When they got back to finishing up on the order, Bucky looked away, contorting his face, mortified that he was caught staring.
“You ordered a lot.” Bucky said, as Claudine left; clearing his throat and reverting to his calm demeanor.
“My workout had prolonged by an hour; lost track of time. So, I am just trying to restore some energy.” Steve’s eyes were dark with intent, a suggestive grin tugging at his lips. “Might need it later.”
And just like that, despite having had little to nothing to eat all day, Bucky’s appetite dissipated as a need of a different kind rushed to the forefront. If he didn’t cut off the penetrating eye contact, they might end up doing the deed on the table.
“You use the gym at work then?” Bucky asked, looking away, grasping at straws to divert their minds.
“Very rarely. I use the facility in my residence block every morning. But I was a little caught up in the early hours today. So, was making up for it is all.” Steve said. “How about you?”
“I like to be at it in the comfort of my home. Kind of my moment of Zen.” Bucky replied, content that the distraction was working.
“I get you.” Steve responded.
With that, the shroud of awkward silence had fallen upon them again. Questions were many, but all remained unvoiced. It was better this way. They were just two strangers submitting to temptation, bound to part ways once this was done and over with. They may see each other again; their glances may hold with the dwindling flame of the passion they once shared, or it may sever like the memory of it did not matter anymore.
Bucky could not stomach much of the meal. As time was drifting by, he could not figure what was bothering him more, the senseless need, the enigmatic man, or the way the situation was playing out to being so very different from what he had in mind. Then again, when had anything gone scene to scene, image to image, rolling out from the reels of his imagination.
Bucky had almost lost interest; almost. That was when the other man, hesitatingly, as if searching for the right words, asked him if he had protection. The heat that he was trying to ebb away, rose back up within a split second at the question. He had one, in some untouched compartment of his wallet, can’t even remember when he had put it in there. Lost for his voice, all Bucky could do was nod a yes.
“Wait for me.” the other man had said, as he walked into the convenience store, leaving Bucky to calm his nerves in the air of the cool autumn night.
The walk to the hotel was an equally silent one; but at least now they were next to each other. The man was of less words, seemingly lost in his own space that one may think he was inattentive.
Then again, he had known his nickname, kissed him on the forehead, asked what he liked to order; had he not? But did that suffice?
Bucky’s uneventful love-life probably was compelling him to feel elated by the small gestures, misconstruing it for genuine care. He shouldn’t be alluding himself with hope based on so little.
Lost in thoughts, Bucky almost jumped before a moving vehicle, just to be caught in time by a strong hand, yanking him into safety and a haphazard embrace.
“You alright?” Steve asked, peering down at him with an alarmed look, his hand now looping around Bucky’s waist and pulling him closer. ‘Inattentive’, isn’t that what he thought of him few seconds ago?
“I’m okay.” Bucky said, unable to move away, yet, reluctant to stay.
As sanity lost the tug-of-war, Bucky found himself nuzzling into the warmth, hands winding around the other man, wanting to be held a little while longer. The crumble of the paper bags was heard, when Steve’s other arm too wrapped tightly around him, drawing him further into the embrace, as if he had read his mind.
They stood in that manner, on the pavement opposite to the hotel entrance, all but each other forgotten, like they had been needing this for a long time and were unwilling to let go.
Fingers resting upon the door knob, Bucky hesitated, knowing well enough what awaited him on the other side. He ran his free hand through his hair in vexation; it was still a little damp from the shower. His heart pounded rapidly against his ribs, and his cock stirred neath the soft towel wrapped around his waist. Bucky took in a deep breath, unlocked and opened the door.
Steve stood with his back him, undoing his cuff buttons, staring out the windows and not turning to acknowledge his presence. Closing the bathroom door behind him, Bucky scanned the space. The ceiling lights were dimmed to a faint orange. Both their discarded articles of clothing hung neatly on the hangers in the wardrobe. One paper bag was set aside on the console, while the contents of the other was laid out on the night stand - couple of bottles of lube, a packet of condoms, a healing ointment and an ibuprofen strip with a tablet missing.
“Are you not well?” Bucky asked.
Steve finally turned to face him. The charcoal shirt was unbuttoned all the way down, leaving his burly muscles in full view. Tattoos undecipherable from the distance lay beneath the smooth scruff of his chest. Bucky gulped down a lump of uneasiness, as need burned white hot within him.
“Just a small headache. Didn’t get much sleep in the last forty-eight hours.” tired eyes were studying Bucky with the same intensity as he had the other man.
Steve took a few steps toward him, gaze burning upon his bare skin, causing him to lean against the wall. His breaths grew shallower with every stride Steve took. The other man stopped a few inches away from him, diffident and nervy in stance. As if enticed, he placed a hand on the center of Steve’s chest, feeling the quickening heartbeats against his palm.
Steve rested a hand over his and pressed it in, then guided it down his pectorals and over his abs, helping Bucky feel his hardened muscles thrumming with the chaotic pulse.
“I’ve wanted this for a while.” Steve said, between laboured breaths, dark pools staring into Bucky’s soul. “I’ve… wanted you.”
Bucky could not form the right words to voice his desire. “I too have…”
“I know.” was all Bucky heard from the other man, before he was swept into a ravening kiss, the void into which vanished the rest of his sentence.
Sturdy hands wrapped around him in a constricting hold, making it unable for him to move, as the greedy mouth sucked away the breaths from his lips. He tasted the minty sweetness from Steve’s lips and the slight sting of whiskey on his tongue, at the relentless onslaught.
Bucky’s fingers found a home in the soft dark tresses, trying to tug Steve’s head back from the kiss every time he needed to come up for air. But no attempt could separate the man from his lips.
In the whirling intensity of the kiss, into which poured their ages old desires, Bucky barely noticed the hand drifting down his flank; not until in an abrupt move, Steve pulled the towel from around his waist, stripping him completely bare. Bucky’s breath hitched, lips still held in place by nibbling teeth, feeling vulnerable before the other man, who still stood clothed.
With a tender peck to ease the pain, Steve dipped his head, Bucky’s wet lips brushing against his temple as he did, capturing a drop of sweat. He leered down at Bucky’s cock, his tongue snaking out at the sight. As though abashed, Bucky pulled the man closer, his erection now pressed between them, hidden away from the hankering eyes.
Tilting his head in the embrace, Bucky began nipping the soft pad of Steve’s ear, raking his tongue over the lobe, earning him a grunt that was muffled against his shoulder. Despite the lack of room between their bodies, one eager hand found its way in, wedging between them, to clasp around the heated flesh of his phallus. Bucky took in a shaking breath, and a strained groan left his throat as a rough thumb pressed in against the tip of his cock. He bit into Steve’s neck as the grasp around his erection grew tighter.
Just the pleasure of a few strokes was all that Steve gave him, and Bucky was thankful, as he feared that having been deprived for so long, he might embarrass himself by wrapping up too soon. Wilful hands kneaded up and then down his back muscles, stilling upon his fleshy glutes. Then, digging stout fingers into the plump cheeks, Steve pulled him further in, pressing their loins together. Bucky could feel it, the thick embossed line of the other man’s erection against his own, barriered by the smooth fabric of Steve’s dress trousers.
The fingers on his bottom spread out over it, pulling his cheeks apart; two intruding fingers, pushed between the crack, to find his entrance. An indistinct ‘no’ was lost between sharp breaths, but Bucky could no longer use his mouth to protest the touch as he was drawn into another fervent kiss. He tried to pull away, but Steve bit his lips back into that demanding mouth, his whimpers drowning within it, as the callous fingers continued to brush against his hole.
Bucky hands curled around Steve’s torso, in through the open shirt, tips of his fingers digging into the muscles of his back, drawing their sweaty chests closer. Clutching his sides, Steve pivoted him around, then, stepping back an inch, he nudged him onto the bed. The supple mattress bounced with Bucky’s weight, but, adjusting himself swiftly over it, he lifted himself up on his elbows, watching through lust-drunk eyes, as Steve knelt between his parted legs.
Quavering hands snaked up his calves, over his thighs and abdomen, finding their way to his pecs. When roughened fingers captured his roused buds in painful tweaks, Bucky lost his bearing, and let out a long grunt in sheer ecstasy.
Teeth sunk into his inner thigh, over and again, followed by wet pecks that soothed the skin. Bucky’s body began to tremble, he fell back into the bed, forgoing any fight, giving himself up completely to be taken in any manner.
Hot breaths leaving that hungry mouth now flurried over his reddened cock. Steve looked up into Bucky eyes as he wrapped his hand around his erection and squeezed. Bucky drew in a strained breath, face contorted in the painful pleasure; his own fingers running up the length of Steve’s arms and finding their way back into the soft mane. As a drop of precum pooled over the slit opening of his cock, Steve’s tongue peeked out, eager for a taste.
“No… Wait!” Bucky managed to utter, gently tugging at Steve’s smooth hair, stopping the man an inch away from his cock.
“I am safe.” Steve admitted; shallow breaths hot against Bucky’s loin. “Are you?”
“Yes… I am.” Bucky said, gulping down spit.
“Then, let me taste you.” Steve said, eyes pleading; stout fingers enfolding tighter around Bucky’s cock at the end of the utterance. Bucky shut his eyes and nodded a yes, trusting the man before him, hoping the blind faith would cause neither of them any trouble.
The tongue swept up the slit opening, claiming the beads of precum seeping out, then swiped a few times over, driving Bucky insane. The moist heat of Steve’s lip soon covered the head of his cock; his grip on Steve’s hair tightening, as more of his length was engulfed into the silky insides of the other man’s mouth. When the tip hit the back of the throat, Steve stalled, dragging out the mind-blowing sensation a few moments longer, before pulling Bucky’s cock back out. Learned tongue twirled over the veins of his phallus on the way out. With another sloppy kiss on the slit opening, he repeated every movement, over and again, intent eyes never leaving Bucky’s face, as the mouth worked magic on his cock. Bucky did not know how he was holding off for so long, enduring the sweetest of assaults from that hot mouth.
Steve’s free hand raked up his torso, chafing over his buds again, creeping further up until a finger pushed into Bucky’s mouth, then another, sliding over his tongue. Bucky closed his lips around the digits, eyes rolled back in pleasure, and, as if controlled by a shared consciousness, he began to suck on Steve’s fingers, almost mimicking what was being done to his cock.
Bucky could not hold on, his body was losing out to the onslaught; he was now completely lost, moans chasing the fingers slipping out through his lips as he fully succumbed to the unstoppable mouth that was pleasuring him intently.
Hanging out over the edge, his legs were now limp, easily complying as Steve pulled them further apart and perched one up the foot of the bed, opening him up wider, his nether region now in full view for the imploring eyes. The fingers wet with his own split now rubbed over his hole again, causing him to spiral further down the whirlpool of sensations, if it was even possible. One finger pushed in, breaching the tight ring, causing Bucky’s hip to lift up, his cock pushing further into the heated mouth as he did.
Steve pinned him back down into the mattress and steadied him. The finger began to slip in and out the resisting chute, tunneling through, opening up the tight sphincter, as the mouth continued to suck him in fully. Changing the pattern, as soon as the finger pulled out, it was replaced with the keen tongue, licking up and around the opening a few times, slathering it with spit, before swiping a single wet stroke up his cock’s length again, reducing Bucky to a quivering, noisy mess.
The finger found its way back into the chute, jabbing a few times into it; then another pushed through, easier with the added stickiness. The two digits curved inward and away over the prostate in repeated motion, all the while as the harsh mouth moved unrelentingly around his cock.
Bucky’s thighs shook against Steve’s biceps as the man drove him to the brink. In the rushed frenzy of an orgasm, Bucky had just enough strength and sanity to try and tug Steve’s head away, urging the man to let go of his cock as he was about to cum. But Steve never budged, seeming to know well enough what he was doing to Bucky’s body and enthralled by every bit of it, lost in a state of madness of his own.
Electrifying waves rippled through Bucky’s muscles in an intense orgasm, one had gripping onto Steve’s shirt and the other pulling at the bed spread. He came into the warm mouth that was swift to drink it all up, sucking him dry, refusing to let go of his cock.
“Steve….” he managed to call out; lying before the other man, a naked, breathless mess; “…please…” begging him to stop. But all Steve did was to glance up at him, eyes unhinged with manic need, sucking in the last string of cum from Bucky’s cock, taking his own sweet time to release him from his control.
When Steve had finally let go of his spent cock, Bucky was almost out of it. When was the last time he came with such intensity; he could not remember. His mouth was drying up as he gulped in air to calm himself down.
Steve rose up, still between Bucky’s legs, keen eyes leering down, watching Bucky collect himself from being destroyed in the most beautiful way. The fine cotton shirt, slid down his back, and he rolled his shoulders as if after a workout. Bucky noticed his nose flare and his jaw clench repeatedly, as his need strained inside, against his trousers. Bucky knew it was his turn to reciprocate.
Gathering the little energy left in him, Bucky sat up right, steadying himself by holding onto Steve’s strong thighs. His trembling fingers slithered up and hooked in the lapel, fumbling to release the button of the dress trouser. As if to soothe his quivering muscles, Steve’s hands began to stroke up and down his arms.
Steve’s cock pushed against the elastic material of the boxer briefs, demanding attention. Bucky did not pull it out, instead, he began to leave moist kisses along the length, the sparse drops of his spit smearing over the fabric. He heard the choppy exhalation that left the other man’s nostrils. Steve’s head was tilted back, and his torso contracted, further defining his ab muscles. Bucky’s hands snaked up, wanting to feel them tense and relax beneath his palms. He looked up again to meet Steve’s eyes that were now fixedly studying his every move.
Steve ran his knuckles along Bucky’s cheeks, tracing the curves and lines, then, to Bucky’s dismay, he stepped back an inch, an imploring thumb now swaying to and fro against his parched lips. In an attempt to wet it, Bucky’s tongue snuck out, swiping over his bottom lip and then accidentally over the thumb.
Taking Bucky’s hands away from the waistbands of his trousers and briefs, Steve walked toward the small table. He nabbed a bottle of water and unscrewed the top. Walking back to where he earlier stood, he grabbed Bucky’s chin with his left hand, fingers digging into the hollows of his cheeks, making Bucky’s mouth to open up. Just as Bucky’s lips parted, Steve took swig of the drink, and, bending down, fed it to Bucky with his mouth, claiming those lips in the process, dampening them with water and spit.
“More…” the word escaped from Bucky’s throat at the loss of contact, despite himself; making Steve grin against his lips.
Steve complied, repeated what he had done a few more times until Bucky was sated, claiming a few more kisses in return.
“Lie back and turn over.” Steve finally spoke against his lips. Bucking stared into those eyes for few second longer, wondering if he hadn’t wanted him to suck him off. It seems the man had other plans.
Bucky simply did as he was told, leaving all the thinking to the other man, letting himself be taken in every which way the other man had wanted. He was tired of the life that had driven him to the lack of restraint - the very life he will be thrown back to after tonight; so, did it matter if he let himself go for a bit?
He lay in the middle of the bed, face down, waiting for the other man to make the next move. Turning his head to the side, he watched as Steve climbed in, trousers still on. Steve grabbed a pillow from near the headboard and pushed it underneath Bucky’s hip, the back of his hand brushing against Bucky’s sensitive cock, causing Bucky to hiss in a breath. Steve added another pillow, making Bucky’s bottom to push up and out.
Bucky allowed himself to be adjusted and positioned as Steve wanted him, until the other man was lying between his open legs, his hot breath caressing his butt cheeks. Hands grazed up the back of Bucky’s thighs, as teeth sunk into the glutes over and again, kissing the tormented flesh better after each bite. The onslaught prolonged, pushing Bucky again into a frenzied state, until fingers dug in and pulled the cheeks apart, exposing his hole to Steve’s readying tongue. Steve’s face buried between the crack, his beard teasing the insides, tongue and lips working their way around the pulsating hole.
A muffled cry left Bucky’s lips and disappeared into the bunched-up portion of the bedspread that he was biting onto. His cock stirred again with need, against the soft pillow.
Bucky couldn’t recall how much time passed in the act; he could barely think as he was lost in some dark pit of absolute pleasure; fingers, lips and tongue in and around his hole drowning him in the highest form of trance.
Miraculously, Bucky was aware enough when Steve stepped out of the bed. When he managed to turn his head and look up at the other man, he saw that Steve had finally taken off his trousers and briefs, standing in the faint aura of ceiling lights, fully bare, like a marble sculpture had come to life.
Steve met his eyes, as his hand stroked his own cock. He was so erect that the member was contrastingly dark. He pulled out a condom with the free hand, and tore the wrapper with his teeth. When he unrolled the latex over around his meaty cock, Bucky swallowed in his spit, struggling to focus, back to being fully erect himself. His breaths came shallow with anticipation.
Grabbing a bottle of lube, Steve climbed back into the bed. Bucky shut his eyes, knowing well enough what was to follow. He heard the click of the bottle top as it was opened, then felt the slick coolness dribble down his crack. Thick fingers swiftly rubbed it warm against his hole, pushing in one at a time, with little to no resistance now. Steve added a third finger to properly open him up, causing Bucky to shudder a little. When the fluid was smeared well in and around his hole, Steve pulled the fingers out. Only a few beats passed before Bucky felt the head of Steve’s cock against his entrance.
His breath hitched, as his body visibly shook. Overcome with sudden apprehension, he twisted his arm back a little to grab Steve’s hand, conveying without words to go easy on him. And, without pushing his hand away, Steve angled the head of his cock and slid it down inside, pushing his hip forward carefully, inching into the tightly grasping warmth closing in around him. The insides of Bucky’s hole convulsed repeatedly, sucking in the phallus as it breached through. Bucky held his breath until Steve was fully inside him. He stayed in that position without the slightest movement, allowing Bucky to adjust to the girth.
Steve placed a kiss between Bucky’s shoulder blades and licked up the sweat gleaming over his skin. He then moved up to capture his lips, sloppily due to the position, yet no less passionate. A pained moan escaped from Bucky’s throat and reverberated between their mouths, as Steve pulled out and thrust back in. Strong hands clasped around Bucky’s fists over the bedspread, as the kiss deepened and the slow powerful thrusts continued. The pace then grew rapid, slick skin slapped against skin, with Steve’s cock jabbing past his sweet spot each time. Every inch of flesh was touched and aroused with desire, and ecstatic groans echoed in their shared solitude.
However, to Bucky, something seemed missing, and the lack of it was evident to him even in the state he was in. As if controlled by his subconscious, which seemed to have recognized the missing point, his tongue began to form the words to voice what troubled him.
“I…” he was breathless; “I need… to see you.” he managed to utter. Steve’s body stilled against his back as the words left his lips. A few beats passed between them, before Steve pulled out of him.
Bucky suddenly thought he had said the wrong thing, fearing that he may have asked too much. But all of his worries were put to rest when Steve turned him over, looming over him, giving him just what he wanted - intimacy.
Hooking his elbows under the back of Bucky’s knees, Steve pushed forward, bending Bucky’s legs and opening him up wide. He pushed the head of his cock back into the chute, and he gazed back up into Bucky’s eyes, not blinking once as he buried his length completely inside the hole.
Bucky bit down on his lower lip, but Steve was quick to release it from between his teeth, taking what was his for the moment. A hand slithered over Bucky’s cock, stroking it in harsh movements. Bucky nearly cried out, the touch prickling against the sensitive skin, but he needed it and more.
The strokes soon grew frantic and so did the thrusts, as they drew closer to their releases. Their eyes never left each other; so many words parting between them in silence, as though, all of their untold daydreams about each other had converged to form this moment.
Bucky threw his head back, arching against Steve’s body, as his muscles grew tout in a sheer pull. With a loud cry he came hard, body quavering against Steve’s in recurring shudders, as strings of cum shot out repeatedly, smearing both their chest. His fingers dug into Steve’s flesh in painful clutches and he was lost in the throes of his orgasm.
The insides of his chute shrunk in around Steve’s cock in an excruciating grip, enough to send Steve over the edge too. Gathering Bucky’s body in a tight hold he thrust fully into the growing tightness. A long groan of heightened pleasure escaped his chest and into Bucky’s mouth as he too climaxed; the tremors of his flesh strumming against Bucky’s.
They grew limp against each other, planting soft kisses on whatever skin they could find. They lied in that manner for moments longer, until their breaths steadied.
Time slid by as they lay facing in each other’s arms, eyelids heavy with exhaustion and sleep, fingers drawing lines upon skin, sweat and cum drying on their bodies.
“We should clean up.” Bucky whispered, earning him a hummed yes.
Bucky torpidly sat up, reluctant to leave the haven of Steve’s arms. Just as he did, his stomach began to growl loud, seeking attention.
“Knew you hadn’t eaten well during dinner.” Steve smirked, moving closer so that now Bucky’s back rested against his torso.
Bucky turned to the side and looked down at the other man. He couldn’t help by smile; so, Steve had been observant enough to know that he had barely eaten.
“I got you some snacks. It’s in that bag.” a finger pointed at the unopened paper bag sitting on the table top. Steve’s soft voice slurred in tiredness. He looked clueless as to how much of an impact his words had on Bucky. A gesture so little, but it meant a lot.
The only person who cared if he was having a good meal was his mother. All Bucky could do was stare at the other man, unable to find words to further the conversation, a bitter-sweet something beginning to burn his throat. He swiftly got up before his demeanor cracked.
A sudden jolt of pain radiated from his back, up his spine, giving him gooseflesh; he found himself appreciative of Steve again for having been thoughtful enough to get the liniment. It was too long since he was fucked this good; well, fucked; period.
Bucky disappeared into the washroom and cleaned himself as well as his weary self could. He returned to the room with a wet towel for Steve, but saw that the other man’s eyes were closed. Assuming him asleep, he walked closer, to do the task himself. Just as he gently placed the cloth on Steve’s chest, he opened his eyes and grabbed Bucky’s hand. Taking the towel away from him, he uttered a thanks with a sluggish smile. Leaving Steve to it, Bucky walked toward the table; he had to feed his needy stomach.
When he opened the paper bag, he saw the flash of a familiar purple and white wrapper. He swiftly dug out the snacks Steve had bought for him. A shaky breath left him. His eyes began to glisten as his fingers tightly wound around the plum cobbler bars.
“Always see you reach out to them in the store. Would that do? Or should we order in? I was told the kitchen runs around the clock.” Steve said, nonchalantly, wiping himself clean in languid strokes, making no attempts to leave the bed.
“This is fine.” Bucky’s voice came low, threatening to crack. He did not face the man, he could not, as he feared he would see right through him. After all, the most trivial details about him have not escaped this man. In that moment, Bucky learned, that not all eyes were neglectful.
He took in a swig of water, hoping that the burn in his throat would subside before he teared up. Opening the wrapper, he took a mighty bite of the snack bar. Somehow, it tasted sweeter than usual.
Once his hunger was somewhat satiated, and the ceiling lights turned off, he returned to bed. Before he switched off the bedside lamps, he took a moment to study the man who now lay almost still and soundly drifted off in slumber.
Bucky was careful not to disturb, as his fingers gently ran over the tattoo on Steve’s chest. ‘We live with the scars we choose’, it read. Suddenly, Bucky wanted to learn all about him; all the scars and smiles he wore, and every story behind it. But it was asking for too much; he knew. The rational side of his mind reminded him that in few more hours, this, this reverie, will be over.
Bucky turned off the remaining lights as the tears he had tried so hard to curb, rushed to well up his eyes. A few rolled down his cheeks, which he was quick to wipe away. He lied down on his side, facing away from Steve, leaving some distance between them.
For the longest time, the man next to him was the only thing he had looked forward to, a glimpse of delight in a world so dull. And now, he felt empty, as that too had come to an end.
As if to ease his pain, jarring him a little, warm hands found him in the dark, wrapping around him gradually and drawing him into an embrace, until his back pressed close against the broad chest.
“Good night, Bucky.” came a whisper against his nape.
Bucky bit his lower lip, and tightly shut his eyes, tears streaming down onto the pillow as he did.
“Good night.” he managed to utter, schooling his voice as best as he could. He pushed back against the hard chest, and held the strong arms tightly against his own.
If it was only for this night that he would feel the man’s warmth, then he shall cherish every little moment, every little detail of it.
Sleep was a thing of sporadicity. They had woken up one too many times through the night, engaging in moments of passion each time they did, so much that a thorough cleanup had become inevitable. But hitting the shower together too had led to another heated session. It almost seemed to Bucky that Steve too had been deprived of an exciting sex-life.
The blue hues of the dawn seeped into the room, autumn rain striking the glass panes in a soothing patter. They now lay awake, in tranquil silence, watching the droplets hit and stream in rivulets, casting moving shadows on their skin.
Steve was on his back with Bucky rolled on his side. His hand rested upon Steve’s chest, heartbeats thumping steadily against his fingertips.
“You must hate me.” Bucky felt the rumble of the voice within the other man’s ribs, before the words registered.
He looked up at Steve, brows furrowed in a questioning look. Steve turned to face him; eyes mellow with something unfathomable.
“I was too forward, wasn’t I? This. This is not how I had planned it in my head, you know? When I finally got to speak to you. I thought it would be different. I feel, I have gone about it all wrong.” Steve looked away, as though overcome with guilt.
Bucky’s breaths shallowed, getting caught a few times in his throat. So, theirs wasn’t a dream he was dreaming alone.
“You were, a little. But so was I.” Bucky attempted at a smile, trying to ease the other man’s worry, despite his own knotted nerves.
“It’s rare that things play out as we imagine it. I suppose, we should focus on the outcome, even if the path that leads to it is different from what we thought it would be.” he voiced the words he often told himself.
“We are talking now. That’s a plus. Else, it would have been another week of missed chances.” Bucky added, with a gleeful verve in his tone.
“Yeah! You’re right.” Steve agreed to his insight, smiling brightly at him.
“Speaking of missed chances, I really thought I’d never see you again, considering how you had disappeared for most of yesterday.” Bucky admitted, suddenly chatty.
“I… I was at a funeral. Five hours drive there.” Steve said. Bucky’s head lightly jerked up, waiting for Steve to elaborate.
“An old friend of mine. He had been sick for a while.” Steve said, looking away from Bucky, as if losing himself in some thought.
“I’m sorry.” Bucky said, not knowing what else to say. Steve turned to him again, a faltering smile on his lips.
“I told myself I was okay. Went on about few days not fully acknowledging the news. But when I saw him, lying lifeless in that casket, barely recognizable, I regretted having gone. Wanted to remember him from the good days.” a tear rolled down the side of his eyes and spilled over Bucky’s skin.
It explained so much; the absence, the attire, the weariness and the instances Steve had looked lost and troubled.
“The drive back was stressful. Death has a way of making you think of your own life. How all the time gone by feels wasted away on things that were barely worthwhile. So, I had come to the complex instead of going home. Thought if I tended to some pending work, and got some workout done, it would make me feel better. And it did to some extent.” Steve added.
“But when I saw you, sitting in that same spot as you always do, I guess, that is when I truly calmed down.” Steve’s eyes met his.
“Am I… making you uncomfortable?” Steve looked worried again, as he waited for Bucky’s answer.
Bucky nodded a ‘no’, fingers rubbing tenderly over Steve’s face, as if to soothe him.
“I wasn’t thinking straight. I just wanted to speak to you, be in your presence, be in your company. Feared if I didn’t speak then, if I didn’t take the chance, then I may never. But it’s no excuse…” before Steve could finish, Bucky kissed him; gentle, assuring.
“It’s fine.” Bucky whispered between kisses. “Well, at least, you bought me dinner.”
They smiled together, against each other’s lips.
“Can I buy you breakfast too?” Steve asked, seeming hopeful.
“I would love that.” Bucky replied, beaming ear to ear. He was glad to see the other man slowly recovering from dejection.
“I had earmarked a place. Always thought I should take you there, Bucky. That is, if I ever grew a pair and spoke to you in this life time.” Steve confessed without restraint, earning himself a hearty titter from Bucky.
That reminded Bucky of a question he had wanted to ask.
“How did you know my pet name? Only my mum calls me ‘Bucky’.”
“Really?! But I hear the old lady at the mart always call you that.” Steve replied, looking a little surprised.
“Ah! Right. That makes sense. Maryanne had picked it from mum, when she had come to visit once. Bet she knows a few of my embarrassing stories too.” Bucky chortled on.
“Looks like I’d have to make a friend out of Maryanne to have in on every humiliating detail she may know. Unless, I meet your mum first. So, how did ‘James’ become ‘Bucky’?” Steve asked; but the shift, from the awkward admittance that Steve saw the possibility of meeting his mum in the future, to the topic changing question, wasn’t lost on Bucky.
“James Buchanan Barnes. It’s the ‘Buchanan’ that took the chopping.” Bucky clarified, allowing the change of subject.
“I see. Pleasure meeting you, James Buchanan Barnes. I’m Steven Grant Rogers.” Steve smiled, holding out his hand leftward for a handshake.
Bucky chuckled at how amusingly reversed their whole meeting was.
He took Steve’s hand in his, and brought it close to his lips to place a kiss at the center of the palm. Then, pressing his cheek against the warm fingers, he looked up at the other man, whose eyes twinkled with promises of tomorrow.
“The pleasure is all mine.”
Steve gazed down at the radiant face, trying to remember the countless moments he had hoped to be at the receiving end of that smile, spreading its light over every ridge and curve of that perfect visage. He had almost lost it all in a careless, despair-driven haste. Almost.
He looked at their twined fingers, and pressed it closer to his heart.
He did not know where life would take them or how far. All he knew, for now, was that... he wasn't letting go.