Bucky Barnes had gone through basic training like every other soldier. He had lived in close quarters with other men, both at training camp and during the war. He was no stranger to having seen other men in all manner of undress, both as a soldier and in his personal trysts. Hell, some of his time spent as a soldier led to personal trysts. It was a thing that just happened. Being around other men with heightened stakes, sometimes it led to things happening in quiet moments away from everyone else. Bucky always read the situation right. He had to. In his day, if the wrong person found out about a ‘fella like him’, well, let’s just say it wouldn’t be pretty.
Bucky learned quickly if a guy he was interested in would be responsive to a little attention. Learned how to read people. Didn’t take much reading to figure out Sam Wilson liked men, too. Sam said outright when he knew they would have to be staying together in confined spaces while working.
“Just so we’re clear,” said Sam on their first mission away together, as they stood somewhat awkwardly in the small, dingy motel room. “I’m gay. If that makes you uncomfortable or if you got a problem with it, it’s your fuckin’ problem to deal with.”
Bucky had let his eyes roam over Sam’s form then, unashamedly, as a crooked grin played on his features.
“I ain’t got a problem,” he had replied, while walking past Sam and brushing his shoulder against his. “I like fellas, too.”
And that was that. They got on just fine when having to share rooms, and sometimes beds. Bucky was always respectful of Sam’s space, given the little space they had. Still, having Sam in such proximity kept Bucky up at night. Sam was undeniably gorgeous from head to toe, devastatingly so. When Sam would traipse around in nothing but a ridiculously small towel, with rivulets of water from his shower still running down the expanse of his smooth skin, that kept Bucky up. Literally. Had him hard as steel. He figured quickly to let Sam shower first so that he could go in after and jerk himself off. And if he pictured Sam’s perfect, pretty lips wrapped around his straining cock as he strummed himself, well that was his business.
Yes, Bucky was attracted to Sam in a major way. The annoying thing was that so was everyone else they encountered. From the bad guys who insisted on flirting shamelessly with Sam, to the barista at that swanky place Sam liked going to. People in general were attracted to Sam. He would flash that sunshine smile and most of them would melt, or fumble around sheepishly, or have a brain malfunction. Bucky normally gave them a small roll of his eyes, a shake of his head, or an empathetic nod which communicated, ‘Yeah, pal I know. He’s a real Dollface, but he’ll still kick your ass.’
Currently, inside the noisy nightclub in which Sam and Bucky were undercover, Sam was drawing attention. Not because he was incompetent at his job, but because of that goddamn dollface and sunshine smile and perfect ass.
Presently, they were posing as a couple in the club, there for recon on some large arms deal that was meant to be occurring. Bucky had been on undercover missions with several other people and they went off without a hitch; no one got made; no one attracted unwanted attention. But with Sam, it was always a different story. It was like he was too goddamn good-looking so it meant people were either staring, or trying to steal glances at him: Either way, someone always noticed him.
It annoyed Bucky to no end because it made their jobs more difficult while trying to be covert, plus he didn’t like others looking at Sam that way. They weren’t together or anything like that, each unsure on how the other felt about blurring the lines between a working relationship and fucking one another, but there was certainly a lot of unresolved sexual tension simmering away. Everyone who met them sensed it; they sense it themselves.
One particularly brazen asshole decided to ignore it when he sidled up next to Sam, leaned on the bar, and began to flirt. Offering to buy Sam drinks. Asking Sam if he wanted to dance. Sam gestured to Bucky and politely declined. The guy persisted and then Bucky stepped towards him.
“He’s with me,” said Bucky, wrapping a possessive arm around Sam’s waist and pulling him close.
The guy sized Bucky up, trailing his gaze over Bucky’s body, and then said, “Shit, I’ll have both of you.”
Bucky said nothing as he took Sam’s hand and led him away. He made sure to give the man a death stare over his shoulder. They took their drinks and found a table that was free. Every Tom, Dick, Harry, and Sally was checking Sam out, but Bucky’s imposing stature and stern expression ensured they didn’t look at them for very long. They placed their drinks on the table. Bucky took up a seat while Sam stood and bobbed his head along with the song that was blaring through the speakers.
Bucky scanned the area checking the exits; seeing how crowded the place was; seeing how much security there was, while still managing to appreciate how good Sam looked. He stole glances as Sam swayed his hips slightly. He was a sight for sore eyes. His outfit hugged his body, accentuating his broad chest and plump ass.
After a moment of ogling his partner, Bucky hooked his fingers into Sam’s belt and pulled him back until he was nestled between Bucky’s legs. Bucky’s hands came to rest on Sam’s hips; their dicks, though clothed, were so very close to one another. He looked a little shocked for about half a beat, before gathering his wits and draping his arms over Bucky’s shoulders. Sam then leaned in close so that Bucky could speak and he would be able to hear over the loud music.
“There’s a guard over at the entrance to the VIP area,” said Bucky as he absently breathed in Sam’s scent. “I’m gonna take a walk, pretend I need to piss and find a bathroom. See what he’s carrying. Get a better look.”
“Okay. I’m gonna go to the dancefloor and see what I can see,” said Sam.
His breath was warm against Bucky’s skin; Bucky really didn’t want to have to walk away from him. He slid from his seat, still holding Sam close, and took the liberty of pressing a chaste kiss to Sam’s cheek before cupping his ass and then stalking away through the crowd. He didn’t see a slightly flustered Sam down the rest of his drink in one gulp while watching him walk away.
It didn’t matter that Sam hadn’t been inside of a nightclub for some time, it always felt the same: The thunderous beat pulsing through his chest; the smell of alcohol, sweat, and a hint of sex. There was something primal about the whole experience of a throng of sweating, dancing, heaving bodies moving together. He did his checks of the area, noting exits and calculating how quickly he could get people to safety if shit popped off. He hoped the criminals who were using the club to launder money and make shady deals weren’t stupid enough to have a shootout in their own place. Clubs have been closed down for a lot less. Hell, he and Bucky weren’t even carrying weapons, much to Bucky’s dismay. They were fifteen minutes late because Bucky had to remove every concealed weapon from his person.
“Have I told you you’re my least favorite person to go undercover with?” Bucky had asked Sam as he tossed another blade onto the bed they were sharing.
“Likewise,” Sam had replied with a smile. “We’re only going for recon so you won’t need them. And don’t forget the two knives in your boots. We’re lucky that cyborg arm won’t get picked up on a wand.”
Sam smiled as he thought back to earlier in the evening. Bucky was adorable sometimes, and fine as fuck all of the time. Sam pushed that thought aside and kept moving to the music when he felt someone come up behind him. His natural instinct was to reach for a weapon (that he wasn’t carrying), but then he felt them begin to move and grind behind him. His first thought was Bucky, who had been staring at Sam all night like he wanted to devour him, but the person felt all wrong. Sam turned, and it was the man from the bar who had tried to hit on him. He didn’t want to cause a scene, so raised his eyebrow and shook his head while still moving to the beat. The guy was still giving Sam the eye when his face dropped as he gazed over Sam’s shoulder. Sam didn’t need to look to know it was Bucky who was most likely giving the horny guy the Winter Soldier death stare. He went to turn but soon felt two firm arms wrap about his waist and a hard, firm body press against his.
Sam didn’t know if it was the drink he had swallowed down, the heat inside of the club, or the fact that Bucky was now pressing biting kisses to his neck, but he felt intoxicated. The other man had quickly fled, and Bucky was holding Sam close, moving his body with Sam’s.
“One guard at the entrance,” said Bucky, before kissing near Sam’s ear. “One down the corridor. Both carrying nine mils and wearing vests.”
Sam placed one hand over where Bucky’s was presently pressed to his chest, and reached the other around to thread his fingers through Bucky’s hair. They looked like any other couple dancing with one another. Bucky was really selling it as he thrust his hips forward slightly. Sam ground his ass against Bucky’s dick.
He was rewarded by Bucky breathing a heady, “Fuck.”
Fuck, indeed, thought Sam as he felt Bucky’s stiff cock press against ass.
Even though they hadn’t fully done what they had come to do, Bucky was now focused on the way Sam was rolling his hips and grinding against him. Bucky was set hard. The friction was delicious. He held Sam tighter, closer, and moaned in his ear before lapping at his neck again. Sam responded by rubbing his ass up against Bucky’s erection with more fervor. It was maddening having Sam so close. Tasting his brackish yet saccharine skin. Feeling his firm body that was pliant to Bucky’s touch. He needed more.
Sam leaned forward slightly, arched his back, and pressed himself more ardently against Bucky’s cock. He did something where he bounced his ass and Bucky almost came in his pants. He reached for Sam, spun him around so that they were facing one another. Sam gifted Bucky with a smile. He was still devastatingly beautiful, even under the harsh lights of the club. Both of their eyes looked darker, lust-filled and desire-laden. There was no doubt in either of their minds: They wanted each other.
Bucky’s prosthetic hand found Sam’s ass and he pressed their bodies flush before cupping Sam’s face with his flesh hand. Bucky pulled Sam in to kiss his lips. They fit together perfectly. Tentative at first, for a brief second, and then it was almost desperate.
Bucky licked into Sam’s mouth as their tongues came together. Hot and searing and wet. They swallowed up one another’s moans as their bodies moved in sync. Still chasing the delicious friction; delighting in the feeling of their covered cocks, hard and dripping, rubbing against the other.
Bucky sucked in a hard breath when Sam moved against him in the most perfect way, allowing Sam to bite the other man’s bottom lip before pulling back and staring into Bucky’s eyes. Bucky stared right back at Sam. He looked love drunk and beautiful and one hundred percent ready to let Bucky do whatever he wanted to him. They swayed breathless, too slow for the music, as Bucky ran his thumb over Sam’s swollen lips.
“Am I still your least favorite person to go undercover with?” asked Sam in a teasing manner.
Bucky laughed and they shared another biting kiss.
“Nah,” said Bucky before he leaned in and sucked Sam’s earlobe into his mouth. “You’re my favorite person ever.”
Sam threw his head back and laughed, exposing more of his delectable neck to Bucky.
“I knew you liked me.”
“I like you too fuckin’ much.”
Before Bucky could kiss him once more, Sam took hold of Bucky’s hand and all but dragged him out of the club. Once they were out on the street, they pulled one another into another fervent kiss.
“Come on,” said Sam as he led Bucky in the direction of their hotel.
“Where’re we goin’?” asked Bucky, allowing himself to be led.
“Back to our room so you can prove to me just how much you like me.”