Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2155353.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      No_Archive_Warnings_Apply, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Captain_America_(Movies), Marvel_Cinematic_Universe
  Relationship:
      James_"Bucky"_Barnes/Steve_Rogers
  Character:
      Steve_Rogers, James_"Bucky"_Barnes
  Additional Tags:
      Shameless_Smut, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Pre-Serum_Steve_Rogers
  Series:
      Part 2 of let's_say_in_this_universe...
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-08-18 Words: 2604
****** Everything In It's Right Place ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     It started with Jimmy opening his damn big mouth and blabbing on
     about a girl at the docks who wanted in his pants, so he took her out
     and fucked her behind the dumpsters and apparently it was like seeing
     Jesus. Steve didn’t believe him; hell, none of the other boys did
     because who the hell would want to sleep with a zit-covered fifteen
     year old kid?
     Well, apparently Bucky, but Steve’s a different fifteen year old kid.
     He’s not even handsome, like the guys at the docks. Of course, he’s
     known for as long as he can remember that Bucky swings both ways, and
     Bucky’s known that Steve swings, well, the wrong way, but he says
     it’s refreshing.
     What that’s supposed to mean, Steve doesn’t know. But it’s got him a
     hand on his dick, no matter how tight and nervous it feels around
     him.
     Prompt: We’re best friends and we take each others virginity.
Notes
     I have no regrets.
     Title shamelessly stolen from Radiohead's Everything_In_It's_Right
     Place.
     Yell at me on tumblr.
“Aw, jeez,” Steve mutters, hooking his leg around Bucky’s and pulling his body
up and along his chest. Bucky’s breath is warm against his cheek, wide eyes
gaping with a combination of fear and barely reined in desire. “Damn, Bucky, I
don’t know what the hell to do here.” Bucky doesn’t know either, but neither of
them says anything.
This is awkward as hell, anda pretty damn bad idea.
It started with Jimmy opening his damn big mouth and blabbing on about a girl
at the docks who wanted in his pants, so he took her out and fucked her behind
the dumpsters and apparently it was like seeing Jesus. Steve didn’t believe
him; hell, none of the other boys did because who the hell would want to sleep
with a zit-covered fifteen year old kid?
Well, apparently Bucky, but Steve’s a different fifteen year old kid.
He’s not even handsome, like the guys at the docks. Of course, he’s known for
as long as he can remember that Bucky swings both ways, and Bucky’s known that
Steve swings, well, the wrong way, but he says it’s refreshing.
What that’s supposed to mean, Steve doesn’t know. But it’s got him a hand on
his dick, no matter how tight and nervous it feels around him.
“Jesus fuck, Steve, shut up,” Bucky mumbles against his cheek, giving an
experimental tug. Steve flinches at the touch before melting into it, because
he knows that Bucky won’t mind his astounding eighty-some odd pounds resting
fully on him. “The other boys are gonna hear.”
“Fine, sorry,” Steve mumbles. Still, he purrs a little when Bucky tugs again,
this time swiping his thumb over the tip. When he moans, Bucky gives his ass a
little slap but Steve just grins. “I’m not sorry for that, though.”
Even knowing that any of the boys could wake up and see them at it is something
that’s stopping them every few seconds, looking around the room with observant
eyes. So far, only Harvey woke up, but he didn’t notice Steve and Bucky in
their little corner of the room.
Steve ducks down to bury his face in Bucky’s neck, hopefully looking like one
of the younger kids sharing a bunk when they get scared of the dark. Little
George used to share with Steve, but then his brother came to the orphanage and
they stay tucked away from the rest of the crowd. It’s probably for the best;
it draws attention away from how Steve and Bucky shoved their mattresses
together and splay over each other.
But neither of them has really done much more than kiss another, much less
another boy.
He pulls away, tugging Bucky’s arms from around his waist and laying out flat
on his back. “What’re we doing?” he asks, not really caring if Bucky gives him
an answer.
He does anyways. “Well, Stevie, I thought you paid attention when the matrons
talked about the birds and the bees and not to knock up some poor Brooklyn
dame.”
Steve just snorts and rolls his eyes. “You ain’t a Brooklyn dame,” he mutters.
“Neither am I.”
“Yeah, and that’s why people like us have assholes,” Bucky replies. Then, in
the dim light he blushes. “I, uh, mean aside from the obvious reason.”
“Bucky, you’re talkin’ about shitting to try and get me back in your lap.”
Steve pushes his hair from his forehead and rolls onto his side so he can
fixate his friend with a wide smirk. “You fuckin’ suck at this.”
“It’s my first time, shut up.”
“Whatever.”
The halls are too quiet at night; it’s probably just past two. The matrons will
have went to bed a few hours ago, but Steve wouldn’t have an excuse if one were
to walk in and do a full sweep, only to find Steve and Bucky lying stark ass
nude with their sides pressed together. It’d make quite the story, he guesses.
At least Steve’s not in Bucky’s lap, or vice versa.
So, obviously, Bucky takes the opportunity to ask, “Do you have any of that oil
stuff?”
“Why?”
“We ain’t got cooches, punk.”
Ugh. “Don’t say that, it’s rude,” Steve says, giving Bucky a light shove to the
chest. Well, he passes it off as light; Bucky’s all muscles and long limbs now.
Steve’s just an awkward mass of bones and asthmatic breathing problems. “And,
assuming I go along with this because I’m seriously having second thoughts on
the whole dick in me thing, who do you suppose is going to be, uh, pitching and
receiving?” Steve needs to learn better terminology.
In response, Bucky just rolls onto his stomach and wiggles his eyebrows,
spreads his legs a bit. “I’m good with either,” he murmurs, pillowing his chin
in his arms. “Just make sure you use a lot of that shit, I wanna be able to
walk after.”
“Fine.” Oh shit, this is almost worse.
For now, Steve’s still a bit bigger than Bucky, but he doubts that’s going to
last. Still, it’s awkward as hell looking down between his legs and seeing it
just swinging midway down his thighs, like he was put together wrong. He gets a
little dizzy every time he comes because the thing is so damn out of proportion
to the rest of his body.
That said, he’s still not very big. Not anywhere, really.
“You’re sure?” he asks, hesitantly laying a hand on the plush swell of Bucky’s
ass. It twitches under his touch, but Bucky makes no move to turn away. “The
guy down at the queer bar-”
“You went to the queer bar?”
“The guy down at the queer bar says it hurts a bit the first time,” Steve
finishes, as if Bucky hadn’t interrupted him.
The guy at the bar had a lot more to say on the matter, but Steve had just said
he’s not interested, and that he’s just a kid, before beating it out of there
as quickly as his legs could carry him. It was bad enough that he saw a dame he
knew from the art school cradled in her gal’s arms, and that she recognized
him, but if any of the matrons found out, if any of the boys found out, Steve’s
ass would be strung up for all of Brooklyn to see.
But he got some information at least. The Vaseline probably being the most
useful tidbit; guys couldn’t get wet like a girl could.
So, he stoops under his bed and retrieves the little tub from beneath his
mattress, holding it out in front of Bucky’s face before crawling into the
space between Bucky’s legs. He’s supposed to start with just the one finger,
then two when Bucky says he’s good, and if he can manage it, do three but he
should be loose enough to get to the sex.
Heh, ‘the’ sex. Steve’s fucking terrified.
He scoops out a glob of the viscous stuff, nonetheless, and parts Bucky’s
cheeks with his other hand. He tells him he’s going to put just the one finger
in, and Bucky should tell him when he’s ready for another. Just to be safe,
Steve rubs the lube all over Bucky’s crack, taking note of the way his friend’s
breath hitches and his legs twitch, before bringing the pad of his thumb to
rest on his pucker.
“Last chance, Buck-”
“Steve, I swear to God if you don’t do it, I’ll- Oh.”
It’s surreal, really, watching his index finger slip into Bucky slowly. It’s
like Bucky’s sucking him in, the tight ring of muscle clenching like Steve’s a
lifeline and Jesus, Steve’s trying not to think about how that’s going to feel
around his dick because he really doesn’t want to get off his rocks before he
gets to the actual sex part.
He crooks his finger once he’s in to the knuckle, mapping out Bucky’s insides
because this is probably the strangest thing he’s ever done.
Apparently, he does something right because every muscle in Bucky’s back
ripples at the same time, and it’s equal parts wonderful and terrifying, and
Steve almost pulls out but Bucky’s moaning his name around compliments and
praises and curses.
“Are you okay?” Steve asks, just in case.
Bucky turns to glare at him over his shoulder, and Jesus Christ, he’s blushing
scarlet. His normally blue-grey eyes are dark with arousal, and there’s a sheen
of sweat covering his face from hairline to chin. Steve swallows involuntary,
and his throat clicks loudly in the quiet of the room, just above Bucky’s
desperate panting breaths.
“If you stop,” Bucky says, voice absolutely wrecked. “If you stop, I’m gonna… I
don’t know, Stevie, but don’t fucking stop.”
He nods and crooks his finger again, this time leaning down to tongue at the
soft reddened flesh outlining Steve’s finger. As soon as he laps a long line up
Bucky’s crack, Bucky twitches beneath him before groaning loud enough to
perhaps wake every resident of Brooklyn.
“Fuck, Bucky, be quiet!” Steve looks around, seeing if anyone woke up.
Thankfully, after a few mumbles and some rustling, everyone still seems to be
asleep. Steve exhales in relief before grabbing a pillow and stuffing it near
Bucky’s mouth. “Bite on it if you need to, uh, moan and stuff.”
He doesn’t wait for Bucky to answer before he turns his attention back to
Bucky’s ass, quickly fucking him with the one finger before slowly pushing in
his middle finger alongside the index. Bucky pushes his hips back to meet Steve
thrust for thrust, but he thankfully stays pretty quiet. Every now and again,
when Steve spreads his fingers inside him and hits a little bump when he
presses down, Bucky will cry out, but he quickly clamps down on the pillow when
it happens.
Unfortunately, Steve still hears it, and his dick’s leaking a steady drizzle of
precome onto the sheets.
So he makes quick time of loosening up his friend. Waiting only until Bucky’s
legs spread wide enough to accommodate a man twice Steve’s size before daring
to add his ring finger, but only for a few moments before he turns his
attention to the tub of Vaseline resting by his knee.
He scoops up a rather generous dollop of it before smearing it all over his
length, wiping the rest in Bucky’s crack and over his taint, before leaning up
to kiss Bucky’s neck. It’s almost an instinct, really, but Bucky still relaxes
under his touch and turns his face towards Steve’s.
“Ready?” he asks, brushing his lips over the shell of Bucky’s ear.
“Yeah.” So, he presses in.
And fuck if it’s not tight.
He watches the tip of his cock get swallowed by Bucky’s hole, the rim clinging
tight around Steve’s crown, before he even considers pushing in another
centimeter. Bucky makes a low grunting sound in the back of his throat, before
he starts pushing back on his own, swallowing up more and more of Steve until
he can feel his balls slap up against Bucky’s taint.
“Shit,” he breathes, fully seated. “Just… fuck, Bucky.”
“’s good?” Bucky asks, shooting Steve his trademark smirk over his shoulder.
“Yeah,” Steve replies. “It’s damn good.”
“Well, then get a move on.”
So he does.
He’s nervous at first, picking up a stuttering rhythm and holding in grunts of
his own because Jesus, he’s so damn tight, and Steve can feel his resolve
crumbling with each one of those strange high pitched noises Bucky makes in the
back of his throat, or the way he hitches his hips up a bit so he can get a
hand around his own length.
When he finally picks up a slow, languid rhythm, he’s sweating like a horse.
“Fuck,” he groans, punctuating his thrust. He pulls back out and slams back in.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Bucky.” He leans down to kiss the top knob of Bucky’s spine,
moves his hands from their grasp on Bucky’s hips up to run over his flat chest,
down his already developing abdominal muscles, trailing through the light brown
hair leading down from his belly button before finally batting Bucky’s hand
away and sliding his hand down Bucky’s cock, thumbing at the head like Bucky
did to his earlier when he did it to Steve.
That, that gets a really loud noise out of Bucky.
“Stevie, god damn,” he moans, arching up like a cat before he’s pulling away
from Steve and flipping their positions. Steve just lies stunned, watching as
Bucky straddles his waist and reaches behind him, grabbing Steve’s dick and
running it down Bucky’s crack before he finally pushes back in. Then, Bucky’s
placing his hands on either side of Steve’s head and grinding his hips down
and-
“Bucky,” Steve groans, pushing his hips up to meet Bucky’s downward thrusts.
“Bucky, how the hell- damn, Buck.”
They try to be as quiet as they can, but it still feels loud even as their
bringing themselves to a whisper. Their breaths echo throughout the room, the
sound of sweaty skin slapping sweatier skin punctuates each of Bucky’s grinds,
Steve’s half choked gasps swallowed by Bucky’s lips when he leans down to kiss
him long and slow, one of his hands reaching for Steve’s and entwining their
fingers.
When he pulls away, he sets a relentless pace.
And because of it, Steve comes first.
He wraps his hands around Bucky’s waist, slides one up his chest to rub at one
of his flushed nipples, before he pushes up and shouts perhaps a little too
loud and spills over inside his friend. It’s like Bucky doesn’t even care,
though; hell, he looks like he likesit. He slows his pace, swivels his hips
around Steve’s still leaking cock, before he carefully pulls himself off and
pushes a kiss to Steve’s palm.
Steve’s too caught up with catching his breath to notice at Bucky’s pumping a
fist up and down his length, his legs trembling. When he does notice, Bucky’s
arching up into his own touch and breathing Steve’s name like it’s something
wonderful.
So he leans over and wraps his lips around the tip; Jimmy said that’s what he
got his girl to do for him before… he pushes the thought aside at the taste of
Bucky, bitter and salty, when he comes in Steve’s mouth.
It’s odd, texturally speaking. It’s not pleasant, but it’s not terrible either.
So he swallows it and pulls away when Bucky finishes, wipes his mouth on the
back of his hand before letting himself fall into Bucky’s open arms.
They just breathe for what seems like forever. Bucky’s heart fast against
Steve’s cheek, his breathing taking forever to slow down. Steve’s right there
with him, pulling in gasping breaths and knowing that he’s not going to have an
attack, but he’s going to be tight in the morning. Bucky rubs a hand between
Steve’s shoulders just to make sure he’s breathing right, nonetheless.
When they are back to normal, when they’re no longer trying to relearn how to
live outside of each other, Bucky breathes out a soft laugh.
“Fuck, Stevie,” he says. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”
Steve slaps his arm, but laughs nonetheless. “Of course I do, Buck,” he
murmurs, leaning up to kiss the side of his mouth. Is he allowed to do that
now, or is that sex exclusive? He scrutinizes Bucky’s face, but he hardly looks
like he minds. “You’re handsomer than any of those big guys at the shipyard.”
“Gee, thanks, jerk.”
“Punk,” Steve replies, giggling even as he kisses Bucky’s mouth again and
again.
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