“Sam, hey, check it out.” Bucky’s voice piped up after four hours of uninterrupted Etta James. Sam blinked, rising up from his seat and stretching out with a groan. He looked out of the window sleepily, a small smile coming to his face upon realization. They finally reached the coast of South Carolina.
The scenic route was a long way to Louisiana, they both agreed. The pleasantries that sights brought outweighed the narrow roads littered with the occasional rest stop that housed more narrowing eyes than places to piss. They were nearing the end of the first day on the road. Humidity dragged the sun across the sky.
Sunlight bloomed over the watery horizon, pouring into the ocean. Sam squinted as he woke. The August sun warmed his face. Watery diamonds on the horizon blinded him. The sound of crashing waves threatened to lull him back to sleep. He smiled dreamily, the weight of the world washing away into the tide and sun.
“Hey,” Bucky’s cold hand poked his side, making him jump in his seat. “don’t K.O. on me again. Next stop we’re switching.” Bucky laughed at his boyfriend’s sleepy face. Sam couldn’t help but return the gesture, shifting to lean closer to Bucky.
“No thanks to your playlist," He half-yawned. “We’ve been stuck in the 1900s since we started driving. Let’s turn on the radio for a sec. New city, new tunes?” He offered, to which Bucky sighed dramatically.
“Fine. But, if it’s bad, we’re going back to my playlist. Driver picks the music.”
“I’m just saying, I think a change would be nice.” His stubborn boyfriend grunted in response. Sam smirked. “C’mon old man, give newness a chance.”
“Newness is a young man’s game.” Bucky glanced at him, a shiny vibranium finger pointed in his direction. “One song.”
Sam threw his hands up in defense, reaching for the radio.
Sailing over a cardboard sea— A click, then a catchy bright guitar playing in place of old tunes. Tastes like strawberries on a summer evenin’ and it sounds just like a song
Bucky’s age began to show as his face wrinkled in confusion. “Who’s this?”
I want more berries and that summer feelin’ its so wonderful and warm
“Harry Styles. Torress mentioned him to me,”
More like rambled. The kid talked for thirty minutes about the singer to convince Sam that he should take a day off to see Harry Styles in concert. Sam, of course, agreed, mostly because if he heard another word they wouldn’t get off the ground. It wasn’t until Joaquin sent the song over to Sam that he took a listen. He could barely keep up with the constant briefings, let alone which new white boy was all the craze.
Breathe me in breathe me out “Sounds like young people's music.” Bucky said, reaching to switch back.
“Hey! C’mon, just one song from this decade and we can go back to your adult standards, alright?” Normally, Sam would agree; Millennial music wasn’t the same. It was something he and Bucky always bonded over, complaining about which fad artist was wrongly decorated at the Grammys. When the song played in every store and on every radio, Sam didn’t give it much attention. He had to admit, though, the tune was catchy.
Bucky rolled his eyes, his hand falling away from the radio. “Fine. This is your one song.”
Breathe me in
Sam started to hum along to the tune.
Breathe me out
“Tastes like strawberries on summer evenin’, “ Sam sang, dancing in his seat. “Baby you’re the end of June,” He turned the song up as he sang to the bewildered driver. Sam laughed.
“Road’s clear, Buck. What’s got those gears turning?” Bucky felt a nudge from Sam.
Gettin’ washed away with you
But he wasn’t focused on the road, or Sam’s out-of-tune over-confident singing It was the lyrics. Bucky’s brow tightened. He never listened to the radio, and only recently did he even begin to use Spotify. He wasn’t quite sure what kids were listening to these days.
Breathe me in breathe me out More laughter came from Sam, a delightful merge with the bright ensemble roaring from the stereo.
“Awh, c’mon Buck!"
"He's singing about all this damn fruit," Bucky shook his head. Sam kept laughing. "You're not helping."
“Fine, I’ll change it—”
“Nah, nah,” Bucky shook his head. "It is catchy, but..." His fingers tapped on the wheel, nodding his head to the music.
I just wanna taste it I just wanna taste it
Bucky pursed his lips, brows furrowing. "What… What's Watermelon Sugar?"
Sam's singing stopped, the music still blasting that catchy phrase Watermelon sugar high Watermelon sugar high. Bucky could already feel a joke about his age on the tip of Sam's tongue, delight tugging on his lips.
"Youngun's music too confusing for you?" Sam teased, turning the stereo down.
“Why can’t kids just sing about regular stuff anymore?” Bucky frowned, making Sam grin all the more. It was a common occurrence, but one he still cherished reminding Sam of their bizarre generational gap.
“It’s just a song, Buck. Who knows what these millennials are singing about.” Oh, but Sam knew quite well.
He rarely listened to the radio, but the song was practically ingrained in his head after Joaquin sent it. But what the kid was so crazy about, and what Sam quickly learned upon watching the video, was the meaning.
Watermelon sugar high the brightly colored video, long fingers grazing hot pink fruit
Watermelon sugar high mouths molding to the curve of a strawberry, sweetness dripping from smiling lips.
Sam wasn’t one to get hot under the collar easily, but the subtext was plain as day. The sweetness of sex, laced into every lyric.
“I don't get it.” Bucky huffed. “Watermelon isn’t even that good.”
“It’s not about the watermelon, Buck—”
“Yeah? Then why does he want to taste it?”
“Th-the guy—Harry—he’s singing about how he wants to taste some watermelon!” Bucky said matter-of-factly, gesturing to the open road as if an invisible crowd was agreeing with him.
A tide of realization washed over Sam. He looked at Bucky with a chuckle, shaking his head.
“What? What’s so funny?” A grumble came from his right.
“It,” Sam’s words bubbled over with laughter, his lips beginning to hurt from smiling too much. “It’s not about watermelon.”
“Then why is he singing about it?”
“It’s a metaphor. You keep frowning like that your age is gonna start showing.”
The ex-assassin scowled at the road, looking for answers in the shining asphalt. Another pop song began to play, but the previous song had lodged itself in the gears of Bucky’s brain, twisting in the nuts and bolts like chewing gum, sweet and sticky.
I just wanna taste it, Watermelon sugar high
He glanced from the road for a moment to catch Sam’s cheeky smile. "You wanna find out?"
Bucky rolled his eyes. “Alright fine, be cryptic." He switched the radio back over, Etta Jame’s sultry voice ringing through the speakers and pouring from the open windows. “Rest stop’s 3 miles away.”
Sam only chuckled, resting back in his seat, and watched the water push and pull with the tide.
The sky was painted in hues of pinks and oranges, the last rays of sunlight shining onto the small rest stop Bucky pulled into.
“Richie’s Roadside Reststop.” He read aloud, surveying the tiny shack surrounded by shrubs and complimented by a motel. He caught Sam’s confused, worried gaze. “Easy,” He chuckled. “I booked a hotel in Montgomery for the night.”
“Alabama?” Sam frowned, stepping out of the car. The nod of affirmation made him groan, tossing his eyes to the fuchsia sky. “That’s seven hours!”
“Three and a half hours each. Piece of cake.” Bucky shrugged, pushing open the creaking door.
“Just so you know,” A voice came from the cash register, a kid with wide brim glasses leaned over the counter. “We only take cash, none of that fancy cash-snap stuff.”
Sam glanced at Bucky. “Uh,” He glanced at the kid. “Just looking for the bathroom.”
The kid pointed a finger to another door. “Out back.”
He glanced back at Bucky. “You’re buying.”
Bucky shrugged. “Fair trade. Tell the outhouse spiders I say hi.” Sam’s shoulders rose to his ears, shaking his head as he walked to the back door.
Looking through the isles, Bucky picked up an armful of snacks, two pretzels, and some hot dogs, dropping them into a rusted basket.
“Whatcha get?” Sam stood to his left, both of them surveying the drinks in an old Coca-Cola fridge.
Bucky lifted the basket, examining it with a hum. “The finest feast the great American roads have to offer. We’re dining good tonight, doll.”
Sam grinned, picking up the honey mustard Combos Bucky grabbed. “You know me so well.”
“Be a shame if I didn’t.” Bucky smiled, turning back to the fridge. “What do you want to drink?”
Sam hummed, resting his head on his shoulder. Bucky leaned back into his partner.
“Hmm…” He watched those dark eyes scan over the assortment of drinks, the wheels turning in his head. Bucky saw Sam’s face turn from thoughtfulness to mischievousness, a smile coming to his lips. “Can you grab me the watermelon lemonade?”
Bucky rolled his eyes, grabbing the drink and dropping it in the basket. “You don’t even like watermelon.”
Sam shrugged. “Just wanna taste it.”
His hand paused on the door of the fridge, eyes fixed on the generic brand root beer. Sam snickered behind him.
“If you’re not gonna let me in on the joke,” Bucky sighed, picking up his drink. "you're gonna be laughing alone."
Sam shrugged. "Told you I'd let you in on the joke if you wanted."
"Doesn't make any sense." Bucky dropped the basket on the counter with a frown. "Shouldn't have to demonstrate a joke." He dropped a few bills on the counter, taking the bag of food and following Sam out of the store.
The drive flew by, between eating dinner on the road and finally getting some winks, Bucky was surprised when he woke up three hours later at an Alabama rest stop. He squinted at the neon sign, a cowboy in chaps tipping his hat to their car.
"Wake up, hon,” A hand squeezed Bucky’s shoulder. He groaned, looking over to see Sam already getting out to fill the car up with gas. Bucky slowly followed suit, reaching his arms to the starry sky.
“I’m gonna grab some coffee. You want anything?”
“I’ll take one. Can you grab some water too?”
“Aye-aye Cap’n.” Bucky saluted, turning on his heel and walking into the gas station. The fluorescent lighting blinded him. The hum of an old radio played faintly under the whir of appliances. Hot dogs turned lazily under orange lamps. The occasional fly knocked against the window, then a light fixture, and back again. Bucky nodded to the sleepy cashier before searching for the coffee machine.
A case of water under one arm, and four coffees in a drink carrier in hand, Bucky went to the counter. The radio played out of tune and fuzzily. The cashier punched in prices; Bucky fished his wallet out. Over the radio, another song began to play, cracking with the poor transmission.
Tastes like strawberries on a summer evening
Bucky’s shoulders tensed, staring down at his wallet in contempt. “What the fuck.”
“Everything alright, mister?”
He glanced up to find a confused look across the cashier’s face. Flashing an uneasy smile, Bucky nodded, slapping a twenty on the counter. “All good.”
As the kid got his change, Bucky tapped his fingers to the tempo. Breathe me in breathe me out
Tried as he did, he started to hum along, trying to figure out what the fuck the artist was singing on about. Whatever it was, as Sam reassured him, clearly wasn’t about watermelon.
“Here you are,” The cashier passed the cash across the counter. Bucky glanced down at the few bucks and some change. “Have a nice night, sir.”
He nodded, walking out as the chorus cracked through the old radio.
“Four coffees?” Sam laughed when Bucky passed him the drink carrier. “You drinking for all of us?”
The man shrugged, trying to fight a yawn as he turned on the car. “Better safe than sorry.”
He grabbed a cup, guzzling it down. Sam did the same, vowing to keep Bucky company. Fifteen minutes in, Bucky found Sam resting back in the seat, asleep once more. He turned off the radio to let his partner rest.
The roads were empty, decorated with the occasional street lamp as a guide. Tapping his fingers on the wheel, Bucky quietly hummed the catchy song about fruit.
“I don’t know if I can ever go without…” He sang under his breath, nodding along to the soundless song that played over and over in his head. “I want your belly, and that summer feeling,”
A hum came from his right. Bucky glanced over to find Sam gazing up at him sleepily. Bucky smiled. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.”
Sam chuckled, stretching his arms with a groan. “Your singing woke me up, Snow White.”
“Pretty sure Snow White doesn’t sing.”
“Yeah, she does! They all do; they’re Disney Princesses. It’s in their job description.”
Bucky snorted. Even half-awake, Sam Wilson was the defender of his point.
“You were singing that Harry Styles song, weren’t you?” Sam said after a beat. Bucky shook his head. “Yes you were, I heard you!”
“How could you have heard me when you were asleep?” Bucky’s brow rose, glancing at Sam for a moment.
“I was resting my eyes.”
“‘Resting your eyes’? Sounding like an old man, Sam.” His boyfriend snorted, shaking his head. “Besides, if you’re not gonna tell me what it’s about, can’t you let a man enjoy his music?”
Sam shrugged. “Look, I offered to let you in on the joke—”
“But failed to deliver.”
“You never said yes!”
Bucky frowned at the darkened road.
Sam chuckled. “You know you look kinda cute like that.”
“Don’t patronize me,”
“Look, all I’m saying is if you want to know what the song is about, you’re gonna have to uh... consent to it.”
Oh. Bucky swallowed thickly, eyes darting back to the road. “Wait—wait. I mean uh,” As his face heated up, Sam’s brows rose a little higher. “So it’s…” Bucky stuttered, “a blowjob?”
“Eating someone out, but yeah.” Sam talked casually as if debating on a place to grab dinner. Those brown eyes stayed on Bucky. He could practically hear the smile curling onto Sam’s lips.
Of course. Of-fucking-course. The sweet song played in Bucky’s head once more, the lyrical meaning becoming violently clear. A rush went through him. His grip on the wheel felt too tight and too loose all at once. His eyes flicked over the road as if he’d find an answer in the trees. The hum of the car engine was too quiet; silence began to thicken.
“Only if you want to,” Sam said. His voice eased the tension in Bucky’s shoulders. “Just thought a demonstration would help answer your question.” He shrugged, looking back out his window.
Bucky shifted in his seat, trying to focus on the road. They had been driving for a while, it would be nice to have some… entertainment. He drummed his fingers on the wheel in thought, trying to ignore the sudden tightness of his pants.
He licked his lips. “You want me to pull over?”
“Do you want to pull over?”
Bucky glanced over to his right, their eyes meeting in silent agreement. Sam’s tongue peaked from his lips. His gaze poured over Bucky, and he softened under those eyes, relaxing into the seat.
Sam’s hand trailed over his thigh. “Focus on the road, baby.”
Right. The road. Going 70 miles per hour in a giant piece of metal on wheels. While also getting a blow job. No pressure. Bucky had dealt with much worse, he could multitask in his sleep.
Fingers grazed Bucky’s leg, moving to his crotch. His fingers curled around the steering wheel, thankful that they didn’t have a turn for another 20 miles. Sam pressed against Bucky’s cock, pulling a gasp from his lips.
“Slow down, I got you.”
The roads were completely empty, only tall trees and the occasional street lamp witness to them. “Sam what if—”
“No one’s gonna see us, Buck. Just relax for a sec.” Sam’s skilled fingers dipped below his waistband, palming over his boxers. Bucky’s hip’s pressed up to the touch, accelerating the car.
“Shit.” Bucky jumped back to the present, his hands locked on the wheel and his eyes fixed on the road. He could multitask. At least he could when Sam wasn’t a part of the equation. Sam, with his skilled hand, teasing him like he had all the time in the world. Sam, with his soft lips that were currently pressed to Bucky’s jaw, whispering sweetly in his ear.
“I’ve got you, hon."
Bucky shuddered. Sam’s smile was pressed against his cheek. “You uh, you need any help?” He stuttered. The cool air conditioning against his cock was all the answer Bucky needed. “Sam—”
Fingers wrapped around his shaft, moving slowly. A shaky breath fell from Bucky’s lips. Sam swiped the precum that beaded from Bucky’s cock, slicking up his skin and moving faster.
Bucky hissed from the friction, the wetness just enough to ease the feeling of dry skin-on-skin. He wanted something warmer, something wetter. Those lips began to travel to his neck, leaving kisses in their wake. Bucky whined.
The streetlights above them felt too bright, the air conditioning not cold enough. Bucky’s shirt clung to him like a glove, his hands tight on the wheel. His eyes constantly drifted to the GPS to see how far out they were and back to the empty road.
“Fuck, Sam—” He keened. A kiss pressed to his temple.
Sam’s hand slowed. “Wanna pull over?”
Bucky nodded, eyes scanning the road to find a spot. The car roared, speeding down the road as he looked for a place to pull over.
Sam had made his way to his neck, sucking on skin until he pulled another moan from Bucky. Sam smiled against the forming bruise, speaking as he trailed kisses up to Bucky’s ear.
“God, Buck,” One kiss. “I always forget—” Another. “how needy you are,” Another. “Got the stone-cold Winter Soldier melting already.” Sam purred in his ear.
Bucky panted, keeping his grip steady so he didn’t break another steering wheel. He had a witty response on his tongue, something about Sam being a roadside hazard, but it faded away into the haze of pleasure. The silence only made Sam chuckle.
“Cat got your tongue?”
“Well, someone’s got something,” Bucky huffed, using all his willpower to keep himself from thrusting into Sam’s hand. His foot leaned on the gas, still searching for a comfortable place to pull over.
Before long and with multiple undocumented traffic violations, Bucky was peeling into a clearing of gravel road. With shaky hands, he parked the car.
"Sam…" The leather seat Bucky pressed into was too hot for his skin, his body too far away from his lover's. His eyes fluttered open, gazing up to find Sam smiling proudly.
Bucky rolled his eyes, trying to steady his voice as he spoke. "Don't look so smug now."
Sam shrugged. "Can't admire my work?" His thumb pressed into Bucky's slit, rubbing over it in slow circles. "You look so good right now baby,"
Bucky’s hands balled into the fabric of his own pants. He dared not open his mouth, worried his voice would betray him.
Sam’s smile didn’t fade. “You’re lookin’ a little hot, Buck.”
“Wonder why.” Bucky huffed, trying to focus on getting off, but the hand around him vanished, leaving his stiff cock exposed to the air conditioning. Looking up, he found Sam already taking his own shirt off.
He licked his lips, eyes trailing over his lover’s dark skin. “Wanna move to the back?”
The two men scrambled, pushing the two front seats all the way up. Bucky pulled his shirt off as he opened the passenger’s side. Once he closed the door, he tossed it to the driver’s seat carelessly, his attention back on the ache between his thighs. Sam’s hands were already on him, pulling him into an open mouth kiss. Bucky sighed into his partner’s mouth, his hands tight on those strong shoulders.
Still focused on Sam’s mouth, Bucky kicked off his shoes, trying to shimmy out the rest of his clothing without leaving Sam’s embrace. A second pair of hands rested on his hips, fingers tugging his sweatpants and boxers down to his thighs. Bucky gasped into Sam’s mouth, his leaking cock springing free from the fabric.
“So,” Bucky gasped as they pulled apart. Sam hummed into the crook of his neck, leaving sloppy kisses down to his collar. “You gonna enlighten me on this ah,” He gasped. “On this metaphor?”
“Thought you’d never ask.” Sam sat up and looked around the car with a thoughtful hum. His lips pursed together, fingers drumming on Bucky’s hip. Normally, the ex-assassin would find Sam’s thinking face adorable in any other scenario, but there were more pressing matters at hand.
“Babe, don’t overthink it,” Bucky shifted.
Sam watched him, rolling his eyes. “Oh excuse me for not wanting to turn you into a pretzel.”
Bucky shook his head, searching on the side of the car seat before he found a lever. “You like how flexible I am.” He pulled, and the leather seat leaned all the way back. He flashed a triumphant grin at Sam, laying in the seat with his arms folded neatly behind his head. “Now c’mere and enlighten me, doll.”
“So it’s like that, huh?” Sam chuckled, leaning him and kissing him slowly. Bucky hummed, smiling against the other’s lips.
“Yeah. It is.” He grinned, leaning up to catch Sam’s lips again. “How’d’you want me?”
Soft hands roamed over Bucky’s pecs, following a salt and pepper happy trail down to his cock. Sam watched his partner’s chest tense with anticipation, licking his lips expectantly for a touch that never came. Bucky frowned as the hand drew away.
“Turn over for me.” Sam smiled at his partner’s frown, stealing one last kiss.
Bucky’s cock twitched in anticipation, nodding and shifting onto his belly. Fingers raked through his hair before trailing down his shoulders, the dip of his spine before finally settling on the swell of his ass.
“Sam, please,” He swallowed thickly. “I want to feel you, want your mouth.” Sam’s grip over his ass tightened, exposing his hole to the air-conditioned car. Bucky whined, burying his face into the crook of his forearm. Somewhere above him, Sam chuckled.
“Ask again,” His breath tickled Bucky’s exposed skin. He shuddered under the other man’s touch. “You know I love that pretty voice of yours.”
"Sammy..." Bucky whimpered, looking up at his partner. "Please, I need you. Please." He arched back up to those skilled fingers. Sam's free hand came to rest on Bucky's cheek, thumb running gently over his stubbled jaw. He leaned into the touch, mouthing at Sam's palm.
"Please, baby, I want you to taste me, take me apart." Bucky’s eyes fluttered closed. He got a whiff of Sam's cologne; sandalwood and oranges flooded his nose. A comforting smile curled on his lips with familiarity. He kissed the inside of Sam's palm.
"Wanna come on your tongue," Looking up at Sam through hooded eyes, Bucky bit down the smile he felt seeing the wind knocked from his partner’s chest. Two could play at this game. “Don’t you want to make me feel good, doll?”
The smirk that played on Sam's lips was almost too much, coy and observant. “Always.”
His fingers ran through Buck's hair, tugging enough to pull a gasp from him. Sam leaned in, his lips assaulting him. As they kissed, Bucky could feel a satisfied grin against his lips. The hand in his hair vanished, trailing down to land at his waist.
Sam’s breath tickled his lower back. Bucky gasped as the other man spread him apart, and before he could say anything else, Sam's tongue pressed to his hole. A warm wave of pleasure crashed over him. Bucky gripped at the seat, trying to stay afloat.
“Jesus, Sam!” He whined into the crook of his elbow. Sam's chuckle vibrated through him. Bucky shuddered as that skilled tongue lapped away at his sensitive flesh. He arched into Sam's mouth, a slew of curses falling from his lips. The noise of Sam kissing and lapping at his hole filled the car. It pulled another soft moan from Bucky. The supersoldier buried his face into the crook of his forearm.
His sensitive cock pressed against the seat, precum pooling under him. Bucky rocked his hips a little more, up into Sam’s delicious warmth and down again into the pressure of the seat. He didn’t hear the moans he made until Sam leaned up to comment.
“Getting awfully loud, Buck,” Fingers carded through his hair slowly. Bucky leaned up to the touch, melting under Sam’s fond gaze.
“Thought you liked it when I got loud.”
“And I thought you said you wanted to come on my tongue, hm?” Sam’s eyes traveled down, eyeing the precum that dripped onto Bucky’s belly. “You know,” Feather-light fingertips trailed down his skin. “If you need something,” He pushed at Bucky’s hip, helping him turn onto his back again. Those eyes stayed fixed on him, fingers rubbing gently at his hip bone. Sam talked easily as if Bucky’s dick wasn’t pressed to his belly, begging for attention. “All you have to do is ask, sweet thing.”
“Sam,” Bucky reached for Sam’s shoulders, pulling him closer. He could have the man against him in an instant, but he liked the push and pull. He liked to beg. His thumbs found the familiar indent of Sam’s collarbone, holding onto him. “C’mere,”
That smile again. Sam gave into Bucky’s grip and leaned in to kiss him. As their lips met, a hand finally moved to relieve the supersoldier, wrapping around the base. Bucky moaned Sam’s mouth, hips canting up to the touch. As Sam raised back up, Bucky chased after his lips. “Sweetheart, please,”
“Not enough?” Sam hummed, his smile too casual. It infuriated and electrified Bucky. A snarky line was on the tip of his tongue, lip curling as he was about to deliver it, but the warmth of Sam’s mouth surrounded his dick, dissolving all coherent thoughts. Sam only popped off, sucking slowly on the swollen head. The tension in his lower abdomen coiled tighter and tighter.
Bucky groaned. “Sam I swear to god,” He gripped the other’s shoulders. Sam licked a slow stripe up Bucky’s cock, sucking slowly on the tip.
The ex-assassin sobbed, tossing his head back. “Please god, just make me come, baby. I need it. I need your mouth, Sammy,” Words spilled from his mouth like an open faucet. He arched up into Sam’s mouth until his nose pressed to his pelvis.
Without any hesitation, Sam moved, his dominant hand wrapped around the base of Bucky’s cock while the other stroked his thigh, holding him open.
“Sam,” He keened, thrusting back up into his mouth.
Bucky’s hand came to rest on the back of his neck, the touch of metal grounding Sam. He couldn’t help but moan. Above him, Bucky cursed up to the sky, soft noises coming from his open mouth.
“Fuck, angel,” He sighed. “Y’know your mouth feels s’good,” The praise made Sam moan.
“But”, Bucky panted, a lazy smile coming to his lips as wide brown eyes looked up at him. “I’d love to fuck that pretty hole of yours.” Sam’s eyes fluttered closed again, his nose burying into the tangle of hair at Bucky’s crotch. “I want you to ride me, baby doll.”
The proposition made Sam start to suck with earnest, sloppy noises coming from between Bucky’s legs. Bucky tipped his head back, calling out to Sam in a desperate plea for release.
“God, Sam,” His hands came to rest on Sam’s shoulders, moving up into his mouth in steady movements. “You look so good with your mouth around my dick, feel fuckin’ amazing too, sweetheart, jesus,” He slurred out in honey-coated breaths. “M’gonna fuck you so good, angel, gonna have you seeing stars.”
It didn’t take much longer for him to come, his orgasm rushing through him in hot spurts. Bucky arched up into Sam’s pliant mouth one last time, eyelids fluttering closed. He gasped, settling back into this spot. In the haze of the afterglow, he could feel Sam leaving open mouth kisses on his thighs, making a slow trail back up to meet him. Bucky sighed, staring up at the open sunroof with a satisfied grin.
“Hope you weren’t playing about riding me,” Sam hummed into the shell of his ear, lips spreading into a smile. He rolled his hips for emphasis, his hard-on pressed to Bucky’s bare thigh.
The supersoldier returned the smile. “I always keep my promises.”
Sam grinned, reached to the back, and sifted through their bags to find his own. With a triumphant 'aha!’ he returned to his spot beside Bucky, presenting the bottle of lube they packed.
"And you said we shouldn't have brought it," Bucky snorted as the bottle passed in his direction. "How ironic."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Well, how do you want to do this, hm?" He looked over at Bucky with an arched brow.
The older man pursed his lips, looking at the bottle in his hands and over to Sam. "I do want you to ride me..." He said dejectedly.
Sam chuckled at his expression. "Well, we can, but I'm telling you, Buck, we're both gonna feel it in the morning." Bucky shrugged. "Okay, I will feel it in the morning. I'm not as spry as you if you haven't noticed." Sam gestured to himself, making Bucky grin more.
"Well," He shifted in his seat, trying to lean further back to accommodate Sam. "What're you waiting for, Cap'n? Your chariot awaits.".
Sam snickered, peeling off his sweatpants and boxers, and tossing them to the front of the car. He scooted over to Bucky, trying his best to fit neatly into his lap without straining his neck. As Sam tried to raise up, he knocked his head on the ceiling. Bucky laughed, reaching out to help his partner get situated into his lap.
"We got the warranty on this thing, right?" Sam asked as Bucky opened the lube.
"Always." His left hand rested on Sam's inner thigh, coaxing him open.
"You know," Sam started, leaning over Bucky and raising his hips up. "they should have a specialized warranty for superheroes, don't you think?"
Bucky hummed in thought, his now lube-coated fingers moving to circle Sam's hole in idle strokes. The shift in his partner's face made him grin as he spoke. "You're right; they should," His index finger prodded experimentally at Sam's entrance. He mustered a moan in response.
"Who knows what dangers await these cars at every turn; they should at least be preemptive." As his finger finally breached Sam, the man let out a sigh, his face tucked into the crook of Bucky's neck.
The supersoldier continued. "Besides, I'd hate for something to happen," A second finger met with the first, the stretch pulling a sob from Sam. "And I'd hate to have to explain to the dealer how I fucked the shit out of Captain America in the back of a Nissan Leaf, and the car just couldn't keep it together under our strength."
Sam bellowed with laughter, raising himself up. While Sam's voice came out in heavy breaths, his lips were spread into a wide grin. "You are the absolute worst, James Buchanan Barnes."
Bucky hummed, his free hand wrapping around Sam's cock. "Ooh you know I love it when you say my full name dollface," His hand moved in languid strokes. The other man melted into his touch, his hands coming to rest on Bucky’s chest.
"Say it again." His fingers thrust up into Sam, letting out a shuddering moan in response. Bucky grinned. "You have such a pretty voice, Sam," He purred. "And a pretty face to match." Another thrust. Another moan.
"Yeah honey," His fingers curled and stretched inside Sam. "just like that."
Sam whined, rocking his hips down onto his hand in needy thrusts. "Fuck, please, I'm ready, Bucky, please." Bucky raised himself up, catching Sam's parted lips into a slow kiss. They moved, slow and tender. Sam broke away to catch his breath, his sweat-beaded forehead pressed to Bucky's.
Bucky gasped, moving up to kiss Sam again. His mouth moved hungrily, teeth tugging at Sam's lower lip as he pulled away. He dropped back onto the seat with a thunk. A few more thrusts of his fingers and strokes of his hand, and he pulled away, settling on Sam's hips.
"Jesus christ, Sam..." Bucky panted, that familiar tightness already beginning to curl in his abdomen. Reaching for his own cock, Bucky lined up with Sam’s entrance, slowly pressing in. His mouth dropped open, a silent cry falling from his lips.
"Fuck," Sam groaned. His face pressed into the crook of Bucky's neck. Against Bucky's chest, Sam's heart pounded rapidly, chest heaving against his own. “Move, Buck,” Sam whined in his ear. “Please.”
“Ah, Sam.” Bucky shuddered at the tight heat surrounding him. He was sure his brain had melted, now sloshing around as a pool in the back of his skull. He tried to speak, to think, but all he felt, all he knew, was Sam. Planting his feet, he finally listened to his partner’s begging. They quickly fell into a rhythm, Sam pressing down to meet his own hips.
“Right there, Buck,” Sam whined in his ear. “You feel so good, baby. No one fucks me like you do.”
“I fucking hope not.” Bucky half laughed, slamming into Sam. From the moan that rang in his ear, he had hit Sam’s prostate. Adjusting his hips, Bucky pressed against that same spot, over and over over—
“Ah! Oh my god, Bucky!”
Bucky moaned. “God, Sammy, you’re so tight,”
His hands landed on Sam’s ass, digging into the soft flesh. A sob of reply rang in his ears. The slap of skin filled the air, the creak of the seat beneath them swallowed up by their own moans.
Sam clutched onto his shoulders, soft noises tickling his ear. “Oh, fuck, Jamie, right there.”
Bucky groaned, his hips pushing up to meet Sam. “Trying out a new name?” He managed, lips grazing his partner’s ear.
“What?” Sam half-moaned, rolling his hips down onto Bucky’s cock as he bottomed out. “Don’t like it?”
“Love it.” Bucky turned his head, kissing his partner’s cheek. He held Sam’s hips in place, thrusting up quickly to chase after his own release. Sam’s palms pressed into his chest, anchoring himself as he moved with his hips. Sam’s mouth fell open, soft, breathy noises pushed from his lips with each thrust.
“I love seeing you like this, babydoll.” Bucky moaned, eyes raking over the other’s body.
“Yeah?” Sam panted, looking down at him with a lucid smile. “Why’s that?”
Bucky almost laughed at the question, and he would have if his breath wasn’t sucked out just from looking at Sam. He was bathed in the moonlight, all sweat-slick dark skin and rippling muscles. Bucky could only look up with longing eyes, his heart swelling.
Sam caught his gaze, a smile coming to his lips as he slowed down. “Short-circuiting there, Terminator?”
Laughter passed Bucky’s lips with a shaky breath. Leaning up, he caught Sam in a slow kiss. The other man hummed, calloused hands cupping Bucky’s face. They pulled away, foreheads pressed together. His hands rushed up Sam’s sides. “You’re so beautiful, Sam.”
The other man paused for a moment, making Bucky open his mouth to backtrack. Yeah, too much. Too cheesy. God, his dick was inside him for Christ’s sakes the last thing—
And then Sam was crashing into him again, pulling Bucky above the waves and letting him breathe. “Don’t go getting in your head, Buck.” He breathed against his lips with a smile.
Bucky couldn’t help but whimper, fingers running up the other man’s sides. “Sam…” That gentle smile shined over him, bathing him in a sweet heat. He moved his hips again, fire sprouting from his chest and running through his veins. “God, I love you,”
Sure, Bucky loved getting railed just as much as the next guy. The stolen kisses they shared on missions, desperate hands fisted in hair and around aching cocks, Bucky wouldn’t trade it for the world. But, when Sam touched him so gently, his soft gaze pouring over his skin, he knew it was far better than any time he had Sam bent over.
“I love you too, Buck,” Sam kissed the shell of his ear, cupping his face. “So much," He kissed over Bucky's stubble, moving to his mouth. "so much.”
The two moved slower. Bucky's hand moved to meet with Sam's, vibranium pressed to his skin. He moved his hips with deeper, more deliberate thrusts which Sam met with soft ‘ah ah ah’s.
With a watery gaze, Bucky looked at Sam, unable to help that smile that came to his lips. How'd he get so lucky? He knew he'd never receive an answer, and quite frankly, he didn't need one. All he needed was in that moment. The gentle fingers that ran through his air, the soft lips that pressed to his skin, the tender voice that purred in his ear, reminded him over and over he was worthy of such attention. He was worthy of love; to be loved by Sam.
Bucky blinked as a thumb swiped over his eyelid, wiping away tears. The touch made him realize he was crying.
"You okay?" Sam asked.
All Bucky could do was shake his head, resting his hand atop Sam's. "Just…" He licked his lips.
Sam smiled. "Getting sentimental, old man?"
Bucky laughed, tilting his head to kiss the warm palm against his cheek. "Can you blame me?" Inhaling deeply, he nuzzled into Sam's hand. Orange and sandalwood. "I got the most beautiful man in my arms."
Soft lips pressed to his neck, Sam's hum vibrating against his own chest. "Takes one to know one, gorgeous." A smile spread against Bucky's neck, teeth grazing skin as Sam sucked a bruise there.
"Sammy…" Bucky moaned. His arm wrapped around Sam’s muscular frame, pulling him in close to surround him. He clung to his partner, pressing feverish kisses to his neck. Submerged in pleasure, Bucky drowned in every touch, the slick heat that surrounded his cock, the sugary voice that dripped in his ear.
"Ah, Bucky, right there, don't stop-"
“Sam, ah, fuck.” Bucky’s hips stuttered, the warmth in his belly spreading to his chest. He reached between them, gripping Sam’s cock and moving his hand in time with his hips.
“Just like that baby,” Sam’s moan rang in his ears, his hands glued to his shoulders. “You’re so good to me, Jamie. Make me feel so good,”
One, two, three thrusts, and Bucky arched back, knocking against the headrest as he came, Sam’s name laced on his tongue.
"Bucky!" Sam painted his belly in thick ropes, hands splayed out over Bucky's chest. He cried up to the ceiling, riding out his orgasm in slow circular movements.
The supersoldier groaned, mouth falling open as he watched Sam dive into the depths of pleasure. With a trembling hand, he cupped his lover's face, coaxing him forward and melding into a kiss. Sam moaned, his mouth lazy and pliant against his own.
"Jamie…" Sam whined, slowly collapsing onto Bucky's chest. "Love you." He murmured into the crook of his neck.
"Love you too, Sammy." Bucky raked through Sam's tight curls, his other arm wrapping around him protectively. The afterglow washed over him, and he melted in its light. He looked up at the sunroof, and the stars looked a little brighter than usual.
"Y'know…” He sighed, fingers trailing up and down Sam’s spine. “We still gotta get to the hotel."
"Sh. Nope. Don't ruin it." Sam quickly interjected. His leg draped over Bucky's side, trapping him. "That's a future-Sam problem."
Bucky chuckled. "Good thing I bought so much coffee for future-Sam, 'cause he's driving next." A groan rumbled against his neck.
"Lemme rest, Barnes, or you'll regret it."
Bucky pressed a kiss to his partner’s sweaty forehead. "Alright, Cap. Get some shut-eye. I'll wake you in 30."
He pulled Sam closer, smiling sleepily against his skin. "Love you too, hon."