Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7518232.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Captain_America_(Movies), Marvel_Cinematic_Universe
  Relationship:
      James_"Bucky"_Barnes/Steve_Rogers, James_"Bucky"_Barnes_&_Steve_Rogers
  Character:
      Steve_Rogers, James_"Bucky"_Barnes
  Additional Tags:
      Stucky_-_Freeform, Pre-Captain_America:_The_First_Avenger, swearing
      because_Brooklyn, Asthma, Making_Out, Oral_Sex, Frottage, Mutual
      Masturbation, Anal_Fingering, Analingus, Jealous!Steve, Dom_Steve_Rogers,
      Pre-Serum_Steve_Rogers, Smut, Possessive_Steve, Kissing, Rimming
  Series:
      Part 2 of 1935
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-07-18 Words: 3764
****** A Night In ******
by blue_pointer
Summary
     Steve doesn't want to be the third wheel on Bucky's date. Again.
     They have a fight.
     They make up. A lot.
Notes
     This is just porn. Sorry.
     Steve's nebulizer looks somewhat like this. Lucky him.
“How do I look?” Bucky asked, turning away from the full-length mirror where
he’d already answered the question for himself (for about five minutes by
Steve’s count).
“Great, like always,” Steve smiled, trying not to feel too envious.
“Just great?” Bucky asked, walking over to stand in front of Steve where he sat
in the plain wooden chair, towering over him by proximity.
“What do you want me to say, asshole?” Steve asked with a grimace. “You look
like a million bucks? Dames will be throwing themselves at you from across the
street? You put Bogie to shame? What?” Steve absolutely hated it when Bucky got
like this. It was like he needed to suffer death by compliment before he would
let up. Steve felt bad enough standing next to the guy without him rubbing it
in--and asking Steve to actively participate in his being uglier duckling by
association.
“Go on,” Bucky grinned, putting one foot up on the edge of Steve’s seat and
leaning forward on his now-elevated knee.
“I’m gonna punch you in the balls if you keep teasin’ me, Buck.” Steve’s eyes
were dead serious.
“Aw, c’mon, Stevie!” Bucky laughed. “Don’t be like that.”
Steve made a fist, threatening.
“Hey, hey!” Bucky put both feet back on the floor, deciding it was too
dangerous to tempt Steve’s insecurity for the moment. He plopped down in the
chair next to his best friend. “We should have Mom find you somethin’ nice,
too.”
“What, from the boys’ department?” Steve asked, sullen.
Bucky smiled, wrapping his arm around Steve’s shoulders. “You know she can
alter anything. Just give her a chance, pal.”
“I don’t need nice clothes,” Steve said, allowing Bucky to leave his arm like
that, though part of him really wanted to punch the guy in the ribs. “I got
nowhere to wear ‘em.”
“Hey.” Bucky tugged him close, so they were nose to nose. “It’ll make a big
difference on your job interviews, showin’ up in a nice suit. First impressions
are everything, you know.”
Steve snarled, “I’ll be the best-dressed paperboy in Brooklyn.”
“Come on.” Bucky decided to throw him off with a kiss to the cheek. “Turn that
frown upside-down, Stevie. I hate when you get like this.”
Steve could feel the blush spreading up his neck as he sat there. He had to
take a minute before he responded. Bucky could make him so damn flustered
without even trying. “Buck.”
“What? You’re mom’s not home. It’s just us.”
Steve cast a sideward glance at him. “You really do look good in that suit.”  
“There’s my pal,” Bucky smiled, leaning across him to kiss Steve’s opposite
cheek.
“Damnit, Buck.”
“What?” Bucky paused, his left hand loosely gripping Steve’s tie. “God, I hate
this fucking tie. I wish you’d borrow one of mine sometime.”
“I’m not a charity case,” Steve protested for the umpteenth time.
“Who’s talking charity?” Bucky leaned back to look him in the eye. “We’re best
pals, right? That means we share everything.”
“Not everything,” Steve said, feeling gloomy again.
“Whaddaya mean?” Steve was looking at his knees, and Bucky knew that was a bad
sign.
“Buck, we shouldn’t do this. You got a date later.”
“So?” Bucky said. “She’ll just have to wait her damn turn.”
Steve glared at him then, and Bucky knew he’d said the wrong thing. “I don’t
wanna take turns with your damn girlfriends, Buck!”
“Okay.” Bucky slowly let Steve’s tie slip out of his fingers, searching Steve’s
face for the meaning behind his words. Was he finally claiming Bucky for his
own?
No, Steve looked too angry for that. He was feeling unlovable again. Bucky knew
how to fix that. He stood up and removed his suit jacket, carefully hanging it
back up before turning around to face Steve. “Tell me what you want then.”
Bucky pulled off his tie and started to unbutton his shirt.
“Buck, stop!” Steve flew out of the chair and made a grab for Bucky’s hands to
still his fingers.
“Alright, Stevie,” Bucky said, soothing. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
“You don’t mean that.” Steve averted his gaze again, sullen.
Bucky wasn’t going to let him avoid his eyes again, though. He placed his hands
on either side of Steve’s face and forced his friend to look at him. “Yes I
fucking do, Steve.” Bucky wasn’t joking anymore, and his eyes met those angry
baby blues head-on. When he realized Steve wasn’t trying to pull away, he let
go of him, resting his hands on Steve’s shoulders. Then Bucky added more
gently, “You just gotta tell me what it is.”
“I don’t wanna go on your date with Carla tonight.” This was an old argument.
Bucky sighed.
“Fine, Steve.”
“Huh?” Steve looked up, surprised.
Bucky smiled down at him reassuringly. “I said it’s fine.” Bucky let his hands
drop and started to back away. “I’ll go call Carla right now.”
“What are you talking about?” Steve asked, confused and suspicious this meant
something he would not like.
Bucky walked over to the phone. “Your mom won’t mind, right?”
Steve followed, eyes narrowing. “Bucky. Why does Carla need to know if I’m
coming or not?”
“She doesn’t,” Bucky said simply, glancing at a note he'd pulled out of his
pocket and dialing.
Steve jammed his finger on the switchhook, ending the call before it went
through. “You’re canceling your date.”
“Sure,” Bucky said. “What else would I be doing?”
Steve put his hand over his eyes for a minute and just breathed. “You’d be
goin’ on your damn date. Without me,” Steve ground out.
Bucky shrugged. “I don’t want to.”
“That’s blackmail!” Steve said, pointing an angry finger at him. “Tellin’ me I
gotta go on your date or you won’t go; that’s messed up, pal!”
Bucky put the phone back in the cradle. “That’s not what I’m sayin’, Stevie.”
“Bullshit!”
“Steve.” Bucky pursued him, trying to catch Steve’s angrily-gesticulating
hands.
“That’s...not--!!”
Bucky could tell from the shade of red Steve’s face had turned that he was
having an asthma attack.
“Shit, Steve!” He turned around and ran to get Steve’s nebulizer. Luckily, it
was never far. “Is there still medicine in the bulb?”
Steve just nodded, reaching for the facemask as Bucky ran back. They had done
this so many times over the years, Bucky was a pro at squeezing that damn bulb.
He knew just how hard and how often he needed to squeeze to get the right
amount of epinephrine into Steve’s breathing passages so they’d open up again.
The downside was it meant Bucky couldn’t stroke Steve’s hair or rub his back or
just hang onto him until he could breathe again, because his hands were both
busy delivering the medicine. Sure, Steve could have done it by himself--he
usually did--that’s why Bucky did it for him when they were together.
“You wanna head over to Rubinstein’s?” Bucky asked. The pneumostat at the
pharmacist’s worked much faster, even if the old crab did overcharge Steve to
use it. Steve shook his head and kept breathing. He was starting to look a
little better.
Bucky would have liked to walk his friend back over to the bench where he could
sit down and relax, focus on breathing, but Steve had other ideas. His free
hand found Bucky’s upper arm and held on. He leaned his forehead against
Bucky’s shirt, just breathing and breathing through the mask. “Tell me when to
stop,” Bucky said softly, but all Steve really had to do was take the mask
away, and he would know. Bucky always hoped Steve would get better sooner,
though, if he offered.  
“Sorry, I got mad,” Steve said, and Bucky knew he could stop.
“It’s my fault,” Bucky said, “for making you mad. I
shouldn’t’ve...shouldn’t’ve...Steve?”
“Yeah, Buck?” Steve’s lips continued to kiss their way up the side of his neck.
“I thought you didn’t want…?” Steve’s free hand slid up his ribs to stroke a
thumb under one of Bucky’s pecs. “Steve?”
“You startin’ to get worked up yet, Buck?” Steve growled softly, dropping the
mask so he could flip open the top button of Bucky’s dress shirt. And he knew
Bucky was. He knew what that bedroom voice did to his best friend.
And then Steve’s hands were opening and pulling off his belt, and Bucky was
stuck holding the damn nebulizer and really wishing he wasn’t. “Steve.” Bucky
sincerely hoped what he’d just felt wasn’t Steve biting off one of the buttons
on his brand new shirt. He heard the mother-of-pearl go shooting across the
room and bounce off the floor before Steve replied, which answered Bucky’s
question.
“Buck.” Steve’s hands were pushing at the fabric, sliding Bucky’s shirts out of
his waistband like a dog digging a hole in the yard.
Bucky almost suppressed a shiver. “So should I call Carla?” This point still
seemed undecided.
“Fuck Carla,” Steve growled, biting the exposed skin of Bucky’s abdomen.
Bucky whimpered, still stuck holding the nebulizer, knowing that dropping it
was not an option. “Doesn’t really seem like a good time,” he tried to joke.
Steve was pushing him toward his tiny closet of a bedroom, but at that, he
stopped, and slammed Bucky back against the wall. “Ow!”
“I’m gonna make you come so hard, you’re not even gonna remember her name!”
Steve’s whisper was both a threat and a promise.
“Steve,” Bucky whimpered.
“What?” Steve fell out of character a little. “Did you really hit your head
that hard?”
Bucky pushed the nebulizer at him. “Take this.”
“Oh.” Steve remembered it was there for the first time since he’d been
breathing through it. “Yeah.” The nebulizer quickly disappeared, and then Steve
was pressing Bucky back into the wall again.
“You ain’t gonna leave here till I say you can,” Steve growled between biting
kisses.
Bucky leaned down, eager for each one. He loved it when Steve got like this. It
made him weak in the knees.
Finally, Steve gripped him by the waistband and towed him into the bedroom.
“Clothes. Off!” he ordered.
Bucky was about to open his pants, when he thought better of it. “Mine or
yours?”
He watched Steve think about this. “Mine first. If you’re first, I’ll forget
about mine.”
Bucky sauntered over, grinning impishly. “So what’re you sayin’? You can’t
control yourself when I’m naked?”
“Shut up, Buck.” Steve growled, grabbing Bucky’s hips and spinning him around
for some meaningful grinding. Bucky was so tempted to just let go and start
stroking himself. If Steve was gonna jump right into things like that…
“Take your fucking shirts off right now.” Bucky’s hands had been hovering
indecisively, but now they had a mission, pulling both layers off and tossing
them aside, ironing be damned.
Steve continued to grind against him, but now he added the sensation of drawing
his fingers down his friend’s bare back, his fingers slightly curved but not
scratching with his nails yet. “Oh, Steve,” Bucky groaned, pushing back against
Steve’s grinding.
“Mouth.” Bucky never knew in what order Steve’s commands would come, but he was
more than ready to oblige. He turned around, dropping to his knees and pulling
Steve’s suspenders from his shoulders. Bucky unbuttoned his pants, nuzzling
Steve while his shorts were still on. He traced the length of Steve’s
excitement through the fabric with his tongue, drawing it up and down more than
once before Steve gently gripped him by the hair.
“Stop playin’ around.” Bucky hooked his fingers under the elastic waistband and
tugged. Then he did what Steve had told him to, applying his mouth to hot flesh
directly, licking and sucking until he could hear Steve’s harsh breathing in
the otherwise silent room.
Bucky came up for air. “Don’t have another attack, Steve,” Bucky warned. There
was nothing worse to ruin the mood.
“Fuck you,” Steve panted, leaning down to pull Bucky into a hard kiss. “Get on
the bed.”
Bucky complied, losing his own slacks and boxers on the way. He slid onto his
back, reaching out for Steve.
Steve was on him in a heartbeat, and Bucky was just starting to enjoy the feel
of Steve’s smaller body pressing against his when he felt something cold and
hard being pressed into his palm. “Lube up,” Steve whispered, rubbing against
him impatiently.
Bucky took his time, kissing Steve slowly as he unscrewed the jar and spread
the Vaseline on his pelvis and stomach. Then he reached for Steve, gripping him
with slick fingers and teasing him with long, leisurely strokes until he bit
Bucky’s lower lip, drawing blood. “You stink,” he gasped.
“You said lube up,” Bucky smirked.
“Not so I could come in your hand,” Steve panted, sitting back to catch his
breath.
“No?” Bucky asked, following to push his hand between Steve’s legs and rub his
taint.
“Ungh, Buck!” Steve fell backwards on the bed, spreading his knees to give
Bucky better access. Bucky watched with satisfaction as Steve’s skin slowly
turned a rosy shade of pink, stroking his sack and teasing his ass. “Buck!”
Steve panted, reaching up for him. “Now.”
Bucky dived forward next to him and Steve rolled him over, climbing on top of
Bucky. Steve pressed up against him frantically, tugging Bucky close for a
kiss. Steve’s thighs were velvet soft, and Bucky found his favourite groove to
grind against. He was so close when he felt Steve spill across his navel.
Bucky gripped Steve’s ass greedily as he continued to thrust. Then Steve’s
mouth was on his chest, and he was tonguing the hard buds of Bucky’s nipples.
Steve really seemed to enjoy experimenting with the noises he could get Bucky
to make. That one had been embarrassing.
“Come,” Steve whispered, reaching down to wrap his fingers around Bucky. And
then he kissed him on the lips, sweet and deep until Bucky’s frenetic thrusts
into his fist reached their inevitable conclusion. Bucky’s hips moved once or
twice more before he collapsed back on the bedspread.
Steve lay on top of him, grooming him like a happy cat, the lazy strokes of his
tongue tracing the shell of Bucky’s ear before outlining his clavicle.
“You’re such a weirdo,” Bucky told him affectionately, combing fingers through
disheveled blond hair.
“You taste good,” Steve said by way of explanation.
“And you feel good,” Bucky told him, wrapping his arms around Steve to roll him
onto his side so that Bucky could curl up against him.    
“You made a mess,” Steve told him in mock-disappointed tones. He held up his
palm for evidence and Bucky caught it, dragging his tongue across Steve’s hand
to lick it clean.
Steve made a face. “Ew, Buck!”
“Fine.” Bucky lay back, swiping a finger through the semen on his abdomen and
bringing that to his lips instead. “Mmm, Steve…”
Steve’s ears blushed bright red, but he could hardly wait for Bucky to take his
finger out of his mouth to kiss him again. “I can taste you,” Steve whispered,
before diving back in for another.
Bucky stroked Steve’s back, enjoying how excited little things like this could
get Steve. “You’re a dirty boy,” Bucky whispered back with a lazy smile.
“Nuh-uh!” Steve protested, pinching Bucky’s nipples almost too hard. “I just
wanna fuck you!”
“You just did,” Bucky gasped, jerking away from Steve’s hands.
“I mean again!” Steve said, demanding.
“What, already?” Bucky asked, blinking.
“Inaminute,” Steve said, running the words together in a way that reminded
Bucky of a much younger Steve. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that in this
context.
The warmth of his body was suddenly gone, and Bucky pawed at the blankets to
squirm underneath as he heard the patter of Steve’s footsteps across the
hardwood floor. He returned with a damp cloth, throwing back the blankets to
clean up his friend before climbing in with Bucky.
“Let’s snuggle,” Bucky said, wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him
close.
“‘kay,” Steve said, burying his nose in Bucky’s shoulder.
“Steve.”
“Yeah, Buck?”
“That’s not snuggling.”
Steve ceased the slow rocking of his hips against Bucky momentarily. “So?”
Bucky started to giggle. Then he couldn’t stop. “You’re such a horndog,
Stevie.”  
“That’s not my fault,” Steve protested, the trademark sullen tone returning to
his voice.
“No?” Bucky teased, pressing a kiss to Steve’s cheek, still chuckling.
“You started it!” Steve accused, pinching Bucky’s arm.
“Hey!” Bucky squirmed, still laughing.
Steve buried his nose in Bucky’s throat, nuzzling. “Call Carla,” he said.
“What?” Bucky hoped that was a non sequitur. “You wanna get Carla in on this
action?” he joked.
“You wish!” Steve pinched him again, this time in a more private place.
“Hey. Watch it!”
“Call her,” Steve murmured, nuzzling Bucky’s earlobe. “You’re mine tonight.”
I’m yours every night, Bucky wanted to say, but he couldn’t. “Okay. ...Steve.”
“Mmm?”
“You gotta let me up, pal. Can’t reach the phone from in here.”
“Okay, but when you come back, can you bring some water?”
“Sure, Stevie.” Standing by the bed, Bucky bent down to kiss Steve on the
forehead.
“And then I’m gonna lick it.” Bucky almost tripped as he walked into the hall.
Steve had not been talking about the water.
Carla was disappointed, but he hadn’t expected her to be happy about it. “But
you promised, Bucky.” She sounded like she might actually cry. Bucky was
getting more turned off by the minute.
“I know, doll. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
Getting Steve’s water, Bucky returned to the tiny bedroom, trying to get his
head back to the here and now. He found Steve with his legs spread impossibly
wide at the edge of the bed, greasing up his inner thighs like no applicable
metaphor Bucky could think of. “Steve, what the fuck?” Bucky couldn’t stop
staring.
“Buck, c’mere. I wanna try something.”
“You want your water?”
“Yeah.” Steve held out his hand for it. Because Bucky could see his hands were
slicked up, too, he walked over and held the water for Steve to drink so that
he didn’t drop the glass.
“Okay?”
“Yeah. Bucky?” 
Bucky turned around from setting the glass on the dresser. “Yeah, Steve?”
“Thanks.”
“For what?” Bucky came over to perch at the edge of the bed.
Steve snaked up to steal a kiss. “For cancelling your date.”
“Steve, tonight you’re my date.” Bucky smiled at him.
Steve scowled, smacking him hard on the shoulder.
“What the hell was that for?”
“I’m not a girl.”
“No shit, Sherlock.” Bucky took the opportunity to tease a vital piece of
Steve’s anatomy that distinguished this fact.
“Lower,” Steve said.
“What, here?” Steve closed his eyes. He did like having his balls stroked.
“Lower,” Steve breathed.
“You got kinda slicked up while I was gone, huh?”
“Yeah,” Steve said, pushing against the pressure of Bucky’s hand.
“How come?” Bucky leaned down and kissed Steve’s thigh.
“I wanna try something.”
“This?”
“Hnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Bucky knelt on the floor between Steve’s legs,
taking his cock into his mouth while he teased Steve’s ass.
“Oh….God!” Steve’s whole body was vibrating.
Bucky stopped. “You okay, Stevie?”
“I want you to put it in.”
“No way.”
“Why not?!” He opened his eyes and glared at Bucky, indignant.
“You don’t know what you’re asking, Steve.”
“Fuck you, I do!”
Bucky just stared at him. “What’s the biggest thing you’ve had up there,
Steve?”
Steve blushed. “Fingers...paintbrush,” he mumbled at the last moment.
“Oh, you have been experimenting!”
“Buck, don’t tease me!” Steve huffed. “I can do this!”
“It’s not you I’m worried about,” Bucky murmured.
“What?”
He could tell Steve was taking his saying no personally. “Steve…”
“Is it ‘cause I’m not a girl?” And suddenly he wasn’t miffed Steve, he was
vulnerable Steve.
Bucky’s heart was breaking at the rejected look on Steve’s face. “No!”
“Then why?”
“Because, Steve.” He reached up and cupped Steve’s cheek. “I don’t wanna hurt
you.”
Steve’s brows drew down in determination. “You won’t.”
“Steve.”
“What?!”
“My cock is not a paintbrush, and once I start, I might not be able to stop.
What if you have another asthma attack? What if your heart acts up?” He could
tell from Steve’s determined stare that he was too stubborn to be concerned
about either of these things right now. Which is why Bucky had to be. He could
tell Steve wasn’t going for it.
“Look. Tell you what. I’m gonna use my fingers and see how relaxed you can get.
I’ll clean your kitchen really good. Then we’ll see how you feel, okay?”
Steve nodded, inching down on the bed to give Bucky better access. It amused
Bucky that Steve had been experimenting in his own time. But he was so fucking
tight. There was no damn way.
Bucky knew he had to make this count so that Steve would forget about his “big
plans.” He took his time, licking and probing and stroking and teasing and
stretching Steve as much as he dared--which wasn’t much. Mostly Bucky
concentrated on blowing Steve’s mind, because if he wanted his ass played with,
Bucky could definitely do that. He finished with just a gentle thumb-fucking
while he sucked Steve off. It seemed to do the trick. Steve whimpered and came
down his throat, and there was no more asking for Bucky to fuck him. He lay
back, just panting for a few moments.
“Did you do it?” Steve asked, clearly having been paying close attention. Bucky
chuckled, climbing up on the bed to pull him close and kiss him.
“No, Stevie. That was just my fingers.”
“Oh.” He looked disappointed, yet thoughtful.
Bucky stroked Steve’s hair. “If that’s really what you want, we’ll work up to
it, okay? But not in one night.”
Steve buried his face against Bucky’s chest, his expression of disappointment
clear. “Okay.” Then he looked up, having suddenly had another thought.
“Can I fuck you?” Bucky nearly choked on his own tongue.
“What, now?”
Steve shrugged. “Whenever.”
Bucky took a minute to recover his composure. “Sure, Steve.” He pressed a
gentle kiss to Steve’s lips. “But not tonight.”
“Okay.” Steve just cuddled against him for a few moments. “Bucky?”
“Yeah, Steve?” It was so nice just lying here together, petting him.
“I didn’t get to lick it.” Bucky wasn’t sure what to say to that. Steve also
didn’t give him but about ten seconds to think of an answer. After that,
thinking became much more difficult.
It was a good thing Sarah Rogers was working another late night at the
hospital.
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