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Wrath of Khan

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Steve had his hands splayed on the glass of the containment cell, his face heated from embarrassment that he was trying to play off as irritation. "Bucky! No way!"

"Steeeve. I'm sick." Bucky gestured to the glass walls and his placement inside them. "You have to do what I say." 

He pouted, a look that would be comical if it weren't for how effective it nearly always was on Steve. 

"You're not sick," Steve countered, but it was obvious how little difference that made. Bucky spread his fingers out to press them against Steve's on the other side of the glass and pouted some more. "C'mon, the door's locked and we can just tell Jarvis to switch off the cameras." He ducked his head to search out Steve's eyes. "Please?" He asked, turning his plaintive whining into something a little more reasonable. 

 

Steve turned to look at the door again. When he turned back he was biting his lip, and Bucky silently rejoiced. "Hey Jarvis," Bucky said absently. "Turn off the cameras would you?" Steve wouldn't meet his eyes as Jarvis responded. He still wasn't au fait with giving the AI instructions. For him it was tantamount to asking an actual person for some personal private time and therefore completely mortifying. "Certainly sir," was all Jarvis replied with.

 

Bucky licked his lips and stepped back from the glass. He had most of a bedroom in here: bed, desk, computer. It was surprisingly thoughtful of Stark to have built such a cosy containment room, no doubt intended for Bruce and his experiments in radiation or whatever it was he did, Bucky still wasn't sure. But at least he could stay here instead of at SHIELD after being exposed to that thing in Central Park. He never quite trusted SHIELD anyhow, didn’t really trust anyone putting him in a cell even if it was as nicely furnished as this was, but none had ever had the rather pleasant addition of his boyfriend fidgeting on the other side of the glass before.

 

"Grab that chair," Bucky instructed, and Steve did it in the manner of someone pandering to a petulant child. Bucky grinned. "Sit down."

Steve sat in the chair, a simple plastic-backed thing, while Bucky sat on the edge of the bed. He already looked pretty debauched just from doing something he knew was 'naughty', and Bucky just wanted to eat him up with a spoon. Steve folded his arms and patiently glared at his boyfriend. 

 

Bucky pulled off his shirt and slipped out of his pants so he was naked, determined to put on a good show to get Steve to throw caution to the wind and play along. Then he sat back on the edge of the bed and opened his legs, already most of the way hard from watching Steve getting hot under the collar. Steve's breath caught and Bucky counted it as a small victory, especially when he pressed the heel of his hand against his crotch before resuming his glare. 

 

“Mmmff,” Bucky moaned, rubbing himself into hardness as shamelessly as possible. “Ohh Steve. C’mon Steve let me see it. Spread your legs. Take yourself out for me," Bucky cajoled softly, and the look Steve fixed him with was probably meant to come off as admonishing, but it just looked sexy. "C'mon baby," he cajoled. "I wanna see." 

 

Steve looked away as he pressed his hand to his crotch again, but he dutifully slid his hand in and pulled out his cock. For all his protest he was almost hard, which Bucky filed away for further exploration once he wasn't radioactive anymore. 

 

"Mmm," Bucky murmured. "I miss that so much. Miss sucking it. I know it's only been a couple days but it feels like weeks." He watched Steve through his eyelashes, watched him worry at the fabric of his pants stretched across his knees and eye him back. "Do you miss it?" Bucky asked. "Do you miss me sucking your dick?" 

 

Even before he answered, Steve's cock jerked a little in arousal at Bucky's words. "Of course I do, Bucky," he replied reluctantly. "Lick your hand," Bucky prompted before Steve had time to think too much about replying further. "Get it real wet." 

 

They echoed each other's movements in slicking up their hands, and the sight of Steve doing that, getting ready to jerk off with the same dedication and determination as he did everything - even being coerced like this - was just about the hottest thing Bucky had ever seen. But the way he awaited Bucky's instruction was even hotter. 

 

"Touch yourself Steve. Imagine it's me." Steve wrapped his hand around his cock and gave it a few halting strokes. Bucky bit his own lips as he watched. "Does it feel good?" 

The tension in Steve was practically visible in the air around him, his shoulders hunched like he wanted to curl in on himself. "Relax, Steve. No one can see but me. And you look so good. Lean back on the chair," he said, and Steve rolled out his shoulders and centred himself before shifting his hips forward and sliding down the chair a little. 

 

The look on Steve's face was somehow reluctant and full of heated desire at the same time. And imbued with discomfort, but the same sort of discomfort as he'd had the first few times they'd had sex, run through with determination and arousal and a heaping spoonful of just wanting to please Bucky. "Fuck, Steve," Bucky breathed. "I wish I could suck your dick so bad right now. If this glass wasn't in the way I'd get on my hands and knees and crawl right over there. And I'd open my mouth and wait for you to put it in. Cause you know you want to." And Steve did always want to, the glorious moment when he stopped resisting doing what he wanted to do and doing it was the thing Bucky loved the most. He'd sit with his mouth open waiting for Steve to give in all day long if he had to. But Steve never took that long.

 

Steve was stroking his cock with more determination now, sitting back in his chair with his pants now pooled around his ankles with his eyes flitting between Bucky's mouth and the hand on his cock, stroking himself with as much finesse as he could to make a real show of it. "You like watching me, Steve?"

 

"Bucky," was all Steve returned. He was never one to talk dirty himself, but it certainly did the trick for him. Bucky didn't mind one bit, it was always good watching Steve come apart just from the ideas Bucky was putting in his mind as much as anything else. And on the rare occasion Steve did say something filthy it was scorching hot just because of how much it affected him to say it.

 

"Yeah you got it. A little faster? You're so hard for me aren't you?"

"Bucky," Steve said again. 

Bucky gave his own cock a few tugs, but the sight in front of him was so beguiling it wouldn't be any effort for him to get off. Right now it was all about Steve.

"What, baby? What's wrong?" Bucky's voice was soft and dripping with sweetness. Steve didn't reply, just bit his lips and muffled a moan. "You worried someone'll hear us?" 

Steve responded by huffing through his nose and spreading his legs a little further apart and maybe Steve really did have a bit of an unexplored exhibitionism kink. He certainly seemed to be more... aroused than Bucky would have thought he'd be in this situation.

 

"No one can hear us, Steve. It's just me. Tell me what you want. Tell me what you wish you could do right now. I wanna hear you say it." 

Steve moaned again and Bucky was shocked to see him actually stop to grip the base of his cock. He was holding off! "You like this don't you, Steve," Bucky grinned in gleeful surprise. "You little perv!" 

Steve held on to himself as he fixed Bucky with an icy glare that did nothing to disguise the heat beneath it. "You look positively filthy," Bucky told him, his own orgasm starting to rally at the sight of Steve being so undone. "I bet when you go back upstairs everyone'll be able to tell what you've been doing."

 

Steve's hand dipped to fondle his own balls before he resumed stroking his cock and Bucky made a show of licking his lips as Steve watched him. "You gonna come for me Steve?" Bucky asked, his voice low. Steve nodded minutely and sped up his hand, thrusting a little into it as he moved it. "I want you to come on the glass," Bucky told him in a hoarse whisper.

 

Steve whimpered a little as he nodded again, the muscles in his legs working as he fucked his hand in front of him. "C'mon Steve I wanna see it." Bucky's voice was breathless now as he neared his own completion. The bed was close enough to the glass that he'd probably be able to hit it himself. "Come on the glass for me, show me how much you like it. Show me, Steve," Bucky went on til his own voice cracked with the effort of talking and trying not to come before Steve did. He didn't have to wait much longer because then Steve was rocking his head back and coming with a long drawn out moan, hot spurts hitting the glass with the smallest sounds and then running downwards. Bucky’s hearing seemed to short out momentarily as he came with a cry, blinking back to consciousness with his hand sticky and a trail of come between him and the glass. 

 

He laughed, a short sharp breath through his nose as he snorted in amazement. "Fuck, Steve," he began. "...Fuck," he finished lamely.

Steve just nodded, his own eyes glazed and his chest heaving. "You don't think anyone really heard us, do you?" 

Bucky grinned and laughed again. "Nah, you're good." 

Steve looked at him and leaned forward, placing his splayed fingers against the glass again, out of the way of the mess he'd made. Bucky stepped off the bed and placed his own against them, leaning on the glass to hold him upright as he got his breath back. They stayed like that for a moment before both laughing at how dorky they must have looked. Steve was wearing the cute little post-orgasmic smile he always got that made Bucky yearn to kiss him, right at the quirked corner of his mouth. "Can't wait to get out of this stupid thing,” he said as much to himself as to Steve.

"Me too," he replied. 

 

Steve stood and stretched before pulling his pants up; post-orgasm Steve was always a lot less uptight than pre-orgasm Steve. Bucky watched the muscles in his waist as he did it and his mouth watered for want of licking all that beautiful skin. "That was... that was really good," Bucky said, walking to his little ensuite for some tissue and coming back to clean up the mess he'd made. "We can't do that again," Steve warned and Bucky schooled his expression into a serious one.

"Right. No." 

"I mean it, Bucky."

He couldn't hide his grin. "I know!" 

Steve looked at him reprovingly which just made Bucky grin harder and laugh. 

"You want me to leave this?" Steve threatened, pointing at the fine mess he'd made of the glass the other side of where Bucky was cleaning up. Bucky shot him a look of derision. "Yeah right," he said with a roll of his eyes. 

But Steve shrugged and said, "Alright then," and headed for the door. 

 

He waited til Steve's hand was on the door handle and he was actually opening the door before calling out to stop him, scandalised. "Steve!"