Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1519763.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Captain_America_(Movies), Captain_America_(Comics)
  Relationship:
      James_"Bucky"_Barnes/Steve_Rogers
  Character:
      James_"Bucky"_Barnes, Steve_Rogers
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Modern_Setting, Public_Sex, Teenager_Bucky,
      Prostitute_Bucky, Fisting?
  Series:
      Part 3 of All_Night
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-05-23 Words: 4740
****** Excess ******
by mayalinified
Summary
     Dropping a thousand bucks on a hotel room for one night in the same
     city that he lives in is not something he can do with a clear
     conscience. Then again, picking up a hooker was not something he
     thought he could do without a clear conscience either, but he manages
     to kill two birds with one stone by getting that room for the hooker.
     When he tells Bucky, it earns him a satisfying silence on the other
     line.
     "You got a room...there?"
     Steve grins, "Yeah its ours for the night and...and I'd like you to
     stay this time. If your schedule is clear. I even...uh...got
     champagne."
Notes
     I'm back after an unforseen hiatus. Thanks for all the comments and
     kudos and thank you X10000000 for even reading this ridiculous story
     at all.
     And since I got asked about it. I'll start tagging things "All Night
     Series" when I post excerpts and the like. You're welcome to use that
     tag too if you'd like!
     Now complete with a playlist!!!
     http://8tracks.com/mayalinification/all-night-a-playlist
See the end of the work for more notes
The nicest hotel in the city is pushes the limits of what Steve would ever deem
practical to pay for what was essentially just a room with a bed. But he finds
himself there the next weekend after he'd last seen Bucky. Natasha gets him a
room with the explanation that some undisclosed guy did an undisclosed thing
and now he owed her and undisclosed favor. She was secretive like that, but at
the same time she didn't often care about what the hell anyone did with their
time if it didn't expressly concern* her.
*curiosity counted as a concern in her mind
And it's not as if Steve is poor or anything. He's actually pretty far from it.
He could afford the room on his own if he really  wanted to. But dropping a
thousand bucks on a hotel room for one night in the same city that he lives in
is not something he can do with a clear conscience. Then again, picking up a
hooker was not something he thought he could do without a clear conscience
either, but he manages to kill two birds with one stone by getting that
room for the hooker.
When he tells Bucky, it earns him a satisfying silence on the other line.
"You got a room...there?"
Steve grins, "Yeah its ours for the night and...and I'd like you to stay this
time. If your schedule is clear. I even...uh...got champagne." The bottle he
has stored in his fridge comes to mind out of nowhere. He's had it for months.
He supposes it just adds to the vintage.
Bucky is quiet again, and then he laughs, "Well look at you, high roller."
There's a pause on the other line, some papers rustling. "I'm free all night.
What time do you want me there?"
They decide on nine o'clock, but Steve finds himself pacing in a hotel he'd
never thought he'd be in waiting for Bucky to show two hours before that. The
room is ornate, classic and luxurious. Room service brings him up flutes and an
ice bucket for the champagne. He's half tempted to pop the cork early and down
half the bottle to calm his nerves.
The perks of being overly-punctual.
Bucky knocks right at nine.
Steve answers the door and finds him on the other side, dressed as he normally
is, but with a jacket to warm him in the sudden return of late-winter chill. He
takes it off, brushes awry snowflakes from his hair and onto the royal red
carpet with a grin.
"Hey, Steve," he says, leaning up on his tip toes to kiss Steve's cheek like a
spouse coming in from a long day of work. He pushes past him, into the hotel,
and looks around.
"Did you get a fuckin' suite?" he says, looking back at Steve over his
shoulder, shucking his jacket off his arms and tossing it on to the couch.
Mostly Steve is standing in awe of him. Like he forgot in the span of a few
days just how handsome he was, just how bright and enigmatic. How the room
becomes thrums with energy with his presence alone. He's like a live wire.
"Yeah I got a suite," Steve says, shutting the door.
Bucky walks towards him again, laughing like he'd discovered something
wonderful in Steve. He grabs him by the lapels of the shirt Sam had helped him
pick out earlier in the day - cornflower blue, to bring out his eyes. He drags
him down into a kiss and he's still smiling as he presses their lips together.
Steve isn't quite expecting it, but falls into it all the same. He kisses back,
pressing Bucky's mouth open with his lips and falling into the familiarity with
his stomach floating from the drop.
"You gonna make good on that champagne offer or am I gonna have to work for
it?" Bucky asks, mumbling against his lips. He's got a hand already mussing up
Steve's neat hair, tugging in him close even though their chests are flat
against one another's.
Steve laughs, "I don't know, I kind of like the idea of you begging."
He doesn't have idea where that's coming from.
But Bucky likes it and he shows it by moaning against Steve's mouth, pulling at
his hips so they're flush against one another. He smiles against Steve's teeth
in the middle of a kiss and Steve's trying to stifle a laugh as Bucky presses
his tongue against them. He pulls back and looks at Steve, "Ok, you're
laughing. Are you being serious? Because I'm dead serious."
Steve pets Bucky's hair out of instinct and shakes his head, "I'm kidding. I'll
get you some champagne."
The flutes are nicer than anything he's used before, so he stops to admire them
before he pops the cork on the bottle. It's way too loud and it scares the shit
out of him when it starts to fizz everywhere. Bucky is cracking up, running to
catch the runoff in one of the flutes so it doesn't spill all over the carpet.
He gets it back over the ice bucket, laughing.
"Jesus Christ I had no idea that would happen"
He pours himself a glass and then, intending to add more to whatever Bucky
caught in his glass, turns around to look at him. What he sees is Bucky licking
at his hand, smiling at the sweetness. His tongue goes up and over three of his
fingers and Steve completely forgets whatever he was going to say or do. He
watches Bucky's mouth, only Bucky's mouth, until it turns to a smile and then
forms into a laugh.
"Are you gonna pour me more champagne or are you gonna stand there?" he asks,
holding out his flute. Steve does the former.
As he sops up what landed on the table with a room service napkin, Bucky
disappears into the bedroom. He stands on the other side of the archway, where
the doors are open as Steve left them. 
"I feel like I should be pulling on your tie and calling you daddy," Bucky
observes, running his hand over the royal blue silk comforter they have on the
bed.
Steve’s stomach tightens uncomfortably, “Yeah…uh. Please don’t call me that.”
Bucky laughs, eyebrows raised. No doubt Steve is as blushing red embarrassed as
he feels. “Duly noted.”
"Do the other guys make you call them, daddy?" He joins Bucky in the bedroom,
taking up a place beside him. He has a flute in one hand, the other resting on
tone of the posts of the bed frame as he watches Bucky make his way back to
where Steve is standing. There's cash already out on the dresser for later. No
doubt Bucky has seen it.
“Sometimes. They pay extra for that sort of thing, but it’s not like I mind.”
His stare is downright devilish, as is the smirk he gives Steve while he
drinks. It makes his stomach tighten up even more and frankly, he’s not
interested in analyzing that reaction any further. "Anyway I shouldn't be
discussing clients with other clients. Confidentiality or something like that."
 Steve laughs, meeting Bucky at eye level when he comes to stand in front of
him. "I think that applies to doctors, not..."
Bucky puts his hand in Steve's hair and pushes it back where the strands have
come loose. "What? Prosititutes?"
"I was going to say call boys," he replies. Prostitute sounds like an insult.
He could come to terms with it in his mind, sure, but it as entirely another
thing to call Bucky that to his face.
But Bucky smiles and shakes his head as he traces his fingers over Steve's jaw.
"I know what I am. You know what I am," he shrugs and leans forward to kiss
Steve's neck. The feeling of his mouth there sends goosebumps all over Steve's
arms and his legs. It makes him shiver in Bucky's arms, reach out to grab his
hip and pull him in closer so that their bodies can be touching again. Bucky
pulls away for a moment, turning his head so he can down what's left of his
champagne, and setting the empty glass on the dresser. He hardly even looks at
the money.
He gets his hands settled on Steve's hips and his thumbs pressing inward aching
close to the base of his dick. His mouth is hot and sticky and it drifts across
his skin as Steve tips his head back for more. Then he feels tongue darting out
over his pulse and his breath hitches. He feels teeth and he lets it out with a
groan. Bucky catches him like he's falling, pressing their hips so tight
together that even the slightest shift makes their cocks rub against each other
through their pants.
"Shit..." Steve mutters, shakily trying to drink from his glass so he can get
his hands free. 
"Let me." 
Bucky takes the glass and sets it down on the dresser beside his empty one
before turning his gaze back to Steve's eyes. He tucks his fingers into Steve's
pants, pulling him into him so Steve is forced to grab to post by Bucky's head
to steady himself, leaving Bucky pinned against it.
"What do you want from me to tonight? You want me get on my knees for you
again?"
Steve shudders, breath shaking as he exhales against Bucky's lips. At this
angle Bucky is considerably shorter and he's got his head tipped back all the
way so he can see Steve. It's way too good, when he's looking up at him like
that.
"I can fuck you again. Anything you want me to do. I'm yours for the whole
night." His hands travel up Steve's sides until they're tangled in his hair. He
tugs at it gently, coaxing him down for another kiss. It's rougher this time,
on Bucky's end, and he's biting on Steve's lips. And he's digging his nails
into his back. And he's arching his back so he can press his cock against
Steve's.
And it's so fucking good that Steve can't take it anymore.
He starts to kiss Bucky back just as rough and he busies himself with stripping
off Bucky's clothes. There are a few buttons that nearly become casualties in
the process, but Bucky likes the sudden tug when one doesn't come free and he's
jostled around. Steve can tell because he grins against Steve's lips every time
it happens. So he takes the hint and yanks at his belt and zipper so it throws
Bucky around even more.
Steve puts his hand over Bucky's mouth and Bucky licks at it obediently. It's a
total and complete powerplay that Steve likes a lot more than he really wants
to admit. But maybe it's something about having a precariously aged call boy in
a luxury hotel that has Steve acting slightly out of character.
With his spit slick palm he strokes Bucky, permitting him to work at the
buttons of his own shirt. Bucky doesn't tug, his hands aren't even steady as
Steve rolls his thumb over the underside of the head over and over until
Bucky's hands fall away entirely. He grabs onto the post behind him and holds
it tight while his hips pump into to Steve's hand. It's an absolutely shocking
reaction to such a simple little thing, but Steve's in awe of the way Bucky
lets himself moan abashedly, fall in to it entirely.
There's not one shred of Steve's attention anywhere else in the room. Bucky's
head tips back and his eyes are shut while he makes his tiny pleading sounds.
And god if he isn't the best damn thing Steve's ever seen. He leans in, kissing
him again, licking over his slack mouth while it bends around moans. And it's
not long before Bucky's back to getting Steve undressed. This time he's better
at it, this time his hands aren't shaking.
"Are you trying to think about baseball or something?" Steve jokes. He's
flushed already so maybe Bucky won't notice the way he blushes at making such
an absolutely stupid comment.
Bucky laughs anyway, "Can't come yet. Gotta do something to stave it off.
Grandma stopped working months ago." 
Steve rolls his thumb on the underside of the head of Bucky's cock again and it
sends his body arching up. He whimpers, and Steve's missed the way it sounds.
"Don't stop on my account, Buck."
"Can't fuck you right now if I come," he grits out. His hands push at Steve's
wrists. "Stop. I wanna fuck you first." He's laughing as he let's his head fall
back against the post. Steve laughs, too, his hands hanging limply at his sides
with no purpose to serve.
He breathes for only a second or two before standing up straight and going for
Steve's pants. He steps out of the rest of his own clothes until he's bare and
winter-paled skin before Steve. He stares distracted at the way his dick
strains up, precome beading at the top. Bucky's moving away from him before he
even realizes he's been undressed.
Bucky leans down to snatch up some lube from his pockets. Steve glances at the
seven packets that get tossed onto the bed, the condom following. He turns
back, quirking an eyebrow while Bucky just grins back.
"Face the bed, Steve," he says, the tone of his voice makes it sound like he's
plotting rather than prepping. Steve obeys anyhow, bending over the bed with
his arms propping himself up.
"More."
"More?" Steve glances back, looking over his shoulder.
"More. You'll like it, trust me."
He doesn't argue. As if he ever thought about arguing anywhere. His head sags
until his forehead his the bed, elbows propping him up.
Bucky starts by reaching around and stroking him slow. He gets him going, gets
him moaning and shifting his weight between his feet restlessly before he even
teases at his hole. It shocks him, to feel that Bucky already has his finger
slicked up with lube. Somehow he didn't even hear him rip the packet open, too
busy with the words in his head repeating phrases he doesn't think he'll ever
say out loud. At the intrusive feeling of Bucky pressing his finger inside of
him, he is suddenly aware of his body. That he's naked bent over a bed with his
ass exposed to somebody who might as well be a stranger. That he's facing away,
trusting entirely in Bucky. 
"Relax." Bucky's lips press into the center of his back. And that's all the
convincing Steve needs before he lets his body drape bonelessly downward
towards the bed. He falls complacent and soon Bucky is pumping two fingers into
him relentlessly. Then a third.
He's arching his back, gripping at the nice blue comforter, drooling against
it. Because it's too fucking good. It's too fucking good. "Holy...holy
shit. Bucky."
There's a grin on Bucky's voice, Steve can hear it. "Easy now." His hand slows
to a stop and then he feels a fourth finger breach him. The uneven breath
intake Steve has managed to make a rhythm out of ceases entirely. He stills,
waiting for Bucky to move, biting on his lip.
Bucky's voice is close to his ear and it makes Steve shiver, "You think I can
get my thumb in there too, Steve?"
Steve presses back on him, letting out a little cry. "Jesus, Buck. Y-yeah."
His thumb slips in almost too easily, and the burn would hurt if it didn't feel
so good. He whines, arching his back even more so his ass perks up even more
for Bucky to see. "Are you gonna let me fist you Steve?" That smile is still
there on his voice. He sounds incredulous. He sounds excited.
"S'too much," Steve pants. Bucky's pressing as far into him as he can go and it
draws moans out from Steve that he has no control over letting free. 
"I don't know, Steve. You can take a lot," His mouth has gotten closer to his
ear, Steve can feel the heat that comes from it. He feels so full. There's no
hand stroking his cock now, only featherlight touches that make Steve gasp,
because he's too sensitive for them. He's trying with everything in him not to
come, but Bucky keeps pushing and Steve can feel his knuckles pushing up and
closer and nudging at him.
"Bucky," he says. He could take more, he thinks. He could let Bucky just do it
to him, he's already so close. "I can't take it anymore...ah....holy shit
please..." He's panting hard, trying to fill his lungs but it doesn't feel like
enough. "Please, Bucky. No more. I'm gonna come."
When Bucky draws out slow, he almost does.
Steve just lies limp on the bed, knees bending so he can give his muscles some
reprieve. In the meantime, he tries his damn best to form a valid thought, but
he can't think as much as he can feel. Bucky stands behind him, he can sense
him, right there. He wants to lean up, but his arms feel like jelly and he can
barely stop his legs from shaking underneath him. 
"You alright, Steve?" And Bucky is suddenly helping him stand straight. He
smiles at him, guiding him back to the bed. "Never had that done before, huh?"
He shakes his head, "No...Jesus. Have you? It's..." Bucky deposits him on the
mattress and immediately Steve's moving to lie on his stomach. 
"Yeah I had it done before. It's a fucking experience." He laughs and this time
Steven can hear the packet opening, hear Bucky's little grunt as he rolls the
condom on. "You can stay like that and let me fuck you if you want." Steve
laughs.
"Lying like this? I'd like to until I get the feeling in my legs and arms back.
We can take a break if you wa-"
Bucky doesn't even hesitate to straddle Steve's thighs. "Stick your ass up for
me?" Steve's actions contradict every single thing he's said. His hips curl up,
suspended by the strength in his thighs and stomach. Bucky holds his hips,
moving up close.
"You ready?"
He can feel Bucky's cock sliding against the cleft of his ass. "Yeah." His
voice is tight. "Yeah, Buck."
Steve grips the sheets when he feels Bucky push inside and his muscle hardly
resists from the way Bucky worked him open. He bottoms out quicker than Steve
expects and when he draws out and slams back in it makes him cry out. God. His
fingers curl in to the comforter, not caring much if it ripped with the force
of his nails digging in. 
Bucky holds his hip for balance, but his other hand is busying over Steve's
back, into his hair. He pulls at it, forcing Steve to bow his back and strain
to accommodate it. Every time Bucky snaps his hips it shifts Steve forward,
makes his cock drag over the sheets, trapped between his belly and the
mattress. He can hear Bucky grunting above him, hears the grunts turn to moans
he goes faster and faster and harder.
"I don't wanna finish like this," Steve gasps out. Maybe he does care a little
bit more about ruining the comforter when it's him coming all over it.
Bucky draws out and gets off of him. Steve flips over onto his back and then
reaches up for Bucky when the kid tries to spread his legs like that's what
Steve wants.
That's not what he wants. He gets Bucky lying flat on the bed before he climbs
on top of him. His hand feels beneath him for Bucky's cock so he can guide it
into himself. He watches his face as he does, red cheeked and eyes wide icy
blue with surprise, adrenaline. There's something a little mischievous there
too, and it grows when he reaches out to hold Steve's hips while he bounces on
his dick.
It feels too fucking good, because Steve can get just the rhythm he needs, get
the angle just right so he's teetering on the edge before he knows it. He can
see it on Bucky's face, how much he likes it when Steve digs his nails into his
chest. Steve only takes his hand away for a second, to take Bucky's and guide
it to his cock as it bobs up in down with rapid force of his hips. Of course
Bucky takes the assignment the type of voracity that is so typical of him. He
strokes hard and fast, making Steve's arms shake, muscles twitch, knees ache
dull from the way he rides like he's dying for it.
The shout he lets out when he comes startles him. From the sound to the way it
knocks all the air out of his chest like he's been punched in the stomach. Each
pulse that lands on Bucky's chest and stomach takes its toll on him. It makes
him go boneless, arching back like a doll with his arms limp and neck bent. He
slides off of Bucky and deposits his weighted body onto the bed beside him.
"Fuck," he mumbles. His muscles twitch and Bucky just lies there with Steve'
come all over his stomach and his cock hard and red.
Bucky laughs and lazily reaches down to stroke himself. "You ride a lot of dick
in your time, Steve?"
Steve laughs, glancing down and losing his thoughts to the sight of Bucky
pulling off his condom and tossing it to the trash beside the bed so he can
fist at himself. He reaches out, pushing Bucky's hand aside and takes him in to
as firm a grasp as he can make. Bucky groans and Steve grins with his eyes half
lidded. "Nobody's ever topped me before you did." The answer is plain and
simple. He had a type, and that type expected him to nail the everliving hell
out of them without any discussion.
There's a way that Bucky arches his whole body to move his hips that makes
Steve's skin feel like its burning. He moves his hand a little faster and then
finally starts rubbing his thumb under the head where he knows Bucky liked it
before. It gets him moaning, writhing. His pretty blue eyes and lush mouth
turned towards Steve in a half-formed plead. But jesus he wants it, Steve can
see that in the way every part of his body responds to how slow or fast or hard
he strokes his cock.
Bucky comes in the wake of a hoarse cry. His hands are gripping at the pillows
behind him and he bucks his hips up into to Steve's stilled hand. He says his
name. "Steve." It's barely a whisper and all Steve's to hear. He takes it,
greedy, by kissing at Bucky's open mouth.
They both lie there as Bucky comes down, kissing lazy and with mostly parted
lips. Eventually Bucky grins against his mouth after an inordinate amount of
time and says, "You gotta let me up before this shit dries on me."
"Yeah," Steve laughs and rolls away. "Yeah. Sorry." He walks as fast as his
already aching and sluggish muscles let him go. Bucky smiles at him when he
comes back in with a wet towel. 
He goes to take it, but Steve draws his hand away. "I'll at least clean you up,
I'm not a total dick." He does, and he catches Bucky smiling at him when he's
through. It's ridiculous how much it makes him blush.
They fit themselves into bed next to each other, lying under the sheets with
the heavy comforter pushed down all the way to the floor. At first Steve moves
to lie face to face like they were their first night together. But Bucky pushes
at his shoulder until he rolls on his back. They're quiet for awhile, Bucky
lying on his chest with his head under his chin. Steve's hand rests on his
back, stroking up and down his spine.
"Round two?"
It's entirely unromantic for the circumstances their bodies are in and Steve
can't help but laugh at it. "You don't have to do it again if you don't want.
I'm pretty sure if you get me hard again you'll be working a miracle."
He's fucking exhausted. Honestly he can't remember the last time he was so
tired after sex.
"That a challenge? I've been doing this a long time, Steve. I'm good at it."
Bucky grins and Steve can hear it. Really he should expect Bucky to have his
hand down, tracing fingers over his cock at the suggestion of him not being
able to accomplish it. There's an overwhelming sensation of it being something
he wants so damn bad, but feels like he might cry with how it's too damn much. 
Gently he pushes Bucky's hand away from him. "Not yet. I need an actual break.
I'm an old man. You're young. Stamina." God he's tired.
Bucky laughs, "You're not that old. Not compared to what I'm used to anyway."
Steve infinitely aware of Bucky being a prostitute all over again. 
"God, Buck." He rubs at his own eyes, wincing slightly. "Tell me you're in
college at least?"
There's a shifting on the mattress and Bucky props himself up on his elbow to
look at Steve. "I'm in college. Relax." He's smirking again. In that way that
makes Steve feel like he's not in on the joke.
Steve responds by pulling Bucky down by the back of his head to be in the
position he was in before. They quiet down again and Steve runs his fingers
through the sweat matted locks of Bucky's hair. His chest expands against
Steve's ribs every time he takes a breath and tickles Steve's chest every time
he lets it out.
"Are you gonna become a regular?" Bucky asks.
The reflex answer is yes. The thought out answer is no. The rational answer is
to kick him out before Steve gets used to the way his body warms up the bed.
"Dunno," Steve ends up saying. It's supremely unsatisfactory to both parties.
"Can't afford to get hotels like this regularly so."
Bucky pushes up against his hand and moves to lie so that he can see Steve's
face. His lips move against Steve's cheek every time he speaks.
"We don't have to meet like this every time. Or at bars or clubs or shit like
that."
Steve quirks an eyebrow. "Where would we go then?"
"Your place?"
They're both silent until Bucky follows up. "I mean unless you have a wife or a
boyfriend or whatever."
Steve shakes his head minutely. "I don't have anyone like that. Just surprised
you make house calls I guess."
Bucky laughs, so Steve laughs and they shift their bodies around so Steve can
wrap and arm around Bucky's waist. The kid is half on top of him, and the
length of his body only reaches down to about Steve's lower calf. "I'll come to
wherever you want me to go."
Goddammit if it doesn't make Steve's stomach toss all over to hear Bucky say
something like that. 
They end up talking about stupid shit. Things like 1950's jazz singers and
classic movies and the best place for pizza on the west side after midnight.
It's so pointless and date-like and they agree on most things except for the
few occasions when they don't. At that point they poke fun at one another.
Bucky calls him senile and crotchety. Steve asks him how school is going and
says he's a growing boy. 
They end up kissing slow and sleep-heavy until Bucky tapers off. Steve can tell
he's trying to stay awake for his benefit, thinking that maybe he owed him
another fuck with all the money he was going to walk out the door with. But
Steve's content with just the one time. He's content to look down and see Bucky
sleeping on his chest. He's content to feel the smoothness of Bucky's skin
beneath his hand, the thickness of his hair when his fingers run thought it.
He's got it bad. And it's the worst fucking thing to ever happen to him. 
Because when he wakes up in the morning and Bucky is gone, he hates how much it
breaks his heart.
End Notes
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