Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1504772.
  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:
      Smoking, Public_Blow_Jobs, Alternate_Universe_-_Modern_Setting, Teenager
      Bucky, Prostitute_Bucky
  Series:
      Part 2 of All_Night
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-04-22 Words: 4646
****** Exhale ******
by mayalinified
Summary
     The smoke billows out and away from their mouths and Steve cautiously
     breathes out before too much of it steeps down into his lungs.
     His jaw flexes tightly, when his mouth falls closed. Bucky just
     laughs. "Didn't like that?"
     On the contrary.
Notes
     I didn't mean for this to become a series but here we are.
     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
He doesn't call Bucky for two weeks.
There isn't exactly a handbook for the proper protocols when dealing with a
call boy. Specifically, Steve’s struggling with how long he should wait between
seeing him and calling. The rule for dates as far as he knows is a day or two
afterwards, but he feels like when your relationship is built on sex for money
there's a different set of rules involved. And of course when he says
relationship, he means the lack thereof. 
Bucky answers the phone on the second ring.
"Hello." His voice is soft, like he's trying not to be overheard.
"Hi, it's," he winces slightly, knowing how awkward he always sounds over the
phone. "It's Steve."
There's a pause and then it's like he can hear Bucky smiling. "Steve. I was
wondering if you were ever gonna call me back." The fact that he was thinking
about him at all makes Steve’s heart pick up and he tries not to read too much
into it. 
They make plans to meet a bar in the nicer part of town, someplace swanky and
hip so that Steve can impress him. Before he even gets to describing it, Bucky
says he knows where he means, suggesting that he’s been there at least a few
times before. It feels almost like he’s going on a date, at least until Bucky
asks him what he’s interested in paying for.
Steve's given a few options, a verbal menu of sorts which is categorized from
the lowest prices to the highest. Steve's trepidation over the procedural
feeling of it all is assuaged easily when Bucky suggests in a husky voice:
"I wouldn't mind if you fucked my throat raw again."
That helps him decide pretty quickly.
He gets to the bar early to secure a secluded table in the far corner from the
door. The entrance is higher up with steps leading down into the main room, so
he can see when Bucky gets there. Though he half expects that he won’t be able
to get in. Steve hasn't spent a great deal of time on Bucky's enigmatic
response to the question of his age, but it does pass through his mind as he
waits for him to show up. He's concluded, by the time Bucky arrives, that he
has to use a fake ID because there isn’t any way in hell that the kid is
twenty-one.
It would be romantic, the way they catch eyes from across the room, if it
weren't for that fact that it was distinctly the opposite of that. Bucky is
resting his hands on the banister, white shirt's buttons open around the neck
and sleeves rolled up. He wears dark pants, boots; something entirely ordinary
for a hooker and not exactly what Steve has in mind. Though it's not like Steve
honestly thinks he'd come dressed the way he imagines hookers in his head, all
fishnet and tight metallic underwear.
Bucky stays put, smirking at Steve as they look at one another. It's almost as
if he's trying to maintain the image for as long as possible, Steve standing up
next to the bar table, elbows resting and crooked smile on his face. Even he
manages to look nicer than most nights out, but still wears the same leather
brown jacket he had on the last time they met.
When Bucky makes it over to him, he doesn't speak first. 
Steve supplies a meek "Hey" and a soft smile, shifts on his feet because he's
not sure if he should try any kind of physical greeting with him. Bucky takes
the reigns in the situation anyway. He takes Steve's hand and draws him out
from behind the table. His other hand goes for his cheek, leaning in on the
other side so he can kiss the corner of his mouth.
"Hey yourself," he breathes against it. It makes Steve shiver, and he's left a
little dumbstruck when Bucky pulls away. "How are you, Steve? You look good."
His eyes, hungry as ever, look Steve over with a grin. Of course, Steve finds
himself blushing and tries to hide it by taking a drink. He licks his lips,
gaining some semblance of composure.
"Thanks. I’m better," he says. "Now that you're here." He's hitting on him.
Honest-to-god hitting on him. Bucky notices right away and laughs low, moving
up right beside Steve.
"You gonna actually buy me a drink this time or you still think I'm too young?
Cause I'm not one to judge but if you're willing to fuck me, you should
probably be comfortable letting me drink under your supervision."
Steve can't really argue with that.
He considers how fucked up the situation is as he goes alone to the bar for
Bucky's Kamikaze. By the time he comes back he's starting to feel a little
unsure about the situation. Bucky takes the drink gratefully; smirking at Steve
as he drinks and then sets it down on the table beside the Cap and Coke Steve’s
been nursing since he'd arrived. He keeps a couple of bills out and sets those
down on the table too, discreetly. Half of it up front, like it was last time.
"Promise I'm not a cheap date. I can hold my booze, Steve," Bucky says as he
eyes the money and takes it with a wink. He goes for the glass, taking a slow
drink and watching Steve's face.
Well Steve wouldn't exactly call him cheap. It was clear whoever Bucky was
taking money from had a lot of it to spare. Again, Steve is starting to feel
entirely uncertain with just what the hell he's thinking hiring a prostitute
who he can say is, with almost one hundred percent certainty, significantly
younger he is. 
But Bucky's staring at him, licking his lips and getting them wet and making
Steve wonder if they'll sting like the alcohol he's drinking when he kisses
them. The kid smiles, enticing Steve even more when he catches his lip with his
teeth. His chin lifts slightly, making his mouth the only thing Steve can focus
on and watching his reactions from under his lashes.
"Like something you see?" he asks. Steve's mouth goes totally dry, tongue
sticking to the roof of it so when he speaks his words stumble over each other
before getting out.
"Ye...yeah."
Bucky chuckles, he opens his mouth slightly before speaking.
"Thinking about what you did to my mouth last time?"
He's lucky he's got one arm resting on the table to give him some support. The
blood in his cheeks rushes out, but he can still feel himself blushing. He
swallows, nodding almost undetectable. Nobody in the bar is paying them any
attention; they're busy with their own conversations, their own conquests. The
smooth electronic music that Steve couldn't get the beat of before now feels
sultry with the rhythm moving in him like a pulse.
Bucky takes a step forward. "You're not afraid to kiss me in here right?"
Steve can't look away from him and Bucky keeps talking.
"Cause you can kiss me. I know you're thinking about it," he drawls, letting
their chests come within inches of each other, invading Steve's space with his
body. 
He's not wrong, Steve's thinking about kissing him. Truth be told he's thinking
more about the earlier question, but kissing his mouth raw is the first thing
he intends to do. So he takes a step into Bucky, letting their chests touch.
Bucky slides his arms around Steve's neck and wears the smirk on his face even
when he finally makes contact with Steve's lips.
They kiss slowly at first, Steve tasting him and recalling immediately the
distinctness of Bucky on his tongue. His hands slide to Bucky's sides, thumbs
resting on the hem of his pants where his shirt is tucked. Feeling bold, he
presses his thumb into Bucky's hipbone, making him gasp against his mouth. The
kiss only gets deeper from there and Steve doesn't care that Bucky is mussing
his hair as much as he is.
All he cares about is the way Bucky's lips secede to his, how he's given
permission to kiss as long and deep and open as he likes. He savors the way
Bucky licks at his teeth, over his lips. He smiles when he gets Bucky moaning
soft at the way he nips at him, testing the way his skin gives under the
pressure. It's making him dizzy, kissing like this in the hot, stuffy bar.
Reluctantly, he pulls away, keeping proximity that's close enough to where he
doesn’t ache for him but to where he safely isn't compelled to kiss Bucky all
over again. They both smile, Bucky's eyes are half lidded as he admires Steve
under the dim light.
"I could use a cigarette," he declares. Steve doesn't smoke, but he nods in
agreement anyway.
There isn't much of a patio or anything outside and it's illegal to smoke too
close to the door. So they end up around the corner, in a mostly dark alleyway
that hosts the fire escape, but little else. They keep just out of sight of the
people that congregate on the sidewalk, talking and laughing and being
generally too drunk to even notice Steve and Bucky there.
Bucky pulls a pack out from his pocket that's crumpled and mostly empty. When
he offers one to Steve with a raised eyebrow, Steve declines with a shake of
his head. He takes up residence in the alley, pressing his back to the red
brick and leaning his weight on it. He shoves his hands in his pockets, not
sure what else to do with them. Bucky is watching him as he takes out a
cigarette and puts it into his mouth.
Steve's eyes are there immediately, hating the way arousal is blooming down in
the pit of his stomach, draining the blood from his face all over again. Not
once had he ever found smoking sexy. But watching Bucky cup his hand around the
flame as he puffs the tip of the cigarette to life; he's transfixed all over
again. Bucky takes a deep drag and breathes out with a grin.
"You really like my mouth, don't you?" he observes playfully. It's obvious he's
proud of it, and seems to enjoy the attention. Regardless it makes Steve blush.
He shrugs.
"I think you already know the answer to that."
Bucky laughs, "S'nice to hear though. You don't smoke?"
He's in Steve's space again, stepping so their feet are in line with one
another on the grimy asphalt. With a grin he takes another hit, holding it in
as Steve speaks.
"No. Never got into it. Never tried it."
His eyes are trained on Bucky's lips as they part slowly. Unconsciously, he
bites on his own, as the smoke curls out from Bucky's mouth and dissipates
around him like a veil. It's goddamn mesmerizing, the way he does that.
"Open your mouth," he says, taking Steve's chin in his hand and smiling at him.
Steve obeys, looking down at him with his brow furrowed in confusion.
Bucky takes another drag from his cigarette, staring at Steve's eyes as he
does. Then he pulls the cigarette from his lips, moves in close like he means
to kiss Steve but stops just in front of his open mouth. His lips purse
slightly, brushing against Steve's, and he exhales.
Smoke fills up his mouth and chokes him out, but he forces himself not to
cough. Instead his eyes stay on Bucky's, on his mouth as much as he can see, on
the way he looks so proud to practically suffocate Steve. The smoke billows out
and away from their mouths and Steve cautiously breathes out before too much of
it steeps down into his lungs. 
His jaw flexes tightly, when his mouth falls closed. Bucky just laughs. "Didn't
like that?"
On the contrary.
Steve grabs Bucky's chin and kisses him hard enough to bruise. He doesn't mean
to be rough, but the way Bucky moans against him spurs him on. His free hand
goes into his hair, dragging him into his body so they can kiss even deeper, so
he can feel Bucky's moans vibrate in his chest. Bucky isn't letting himself be
kissed like how he was in the bar. Now he fights back with tongue and teeth,
breathing hard and shoving Steve into the hard brick with the weight of his
body.
 "Jesus," Steve says between breaths, trying to get air as Bucky seals their
mouths, steals the oxygen from his lungs by drawing it out through gasps. Their
bodies are flush and Bucky doesn't hesitate from the moments their hips make
contact, to rub Steve's cock through his pants with his own. The pulls a low
moan from Steve's mouth, sends him stumbling into Bucky slightly when his hips
press up for more contact than what he's given.
"Fucking eager aren't we?" Bucky laughs, moving to kiss at Steve's neck. His
mouth smears over his skin. He grinds against him through the material of his
jeans and Steve gets his hand down between their chests so he can get to
Bucky’s dick.
"You," he gets out finally, "You don't exactly seem to mind."
Bucky's teeth close around his earlobe, pulling gently with a sigh. He lets go
and presses his mouth to his ear, "Don't recall saying I didn't like it."
“I can see that,” Steve manages to laugh, rubbing his palm over Bucky’s cock
through his pants. He’s surprised to find that Bucky is as hard as he is.
Surprised that he moans that low when he gets his hand going in tight circles.
He’s panting himself, trying to focus as much as he can as he shapes his hand
in the outline of his dick and strokes him slow.
Bucky pulls away from Steve’s neck and looks at him, his mouth in a little o
shape as he rolls his hips in time with his hand. With gasping breaths, he
takes a drag from his cigarette, looking down to watch what Steve is doing to
him, to watch how he responds to it.
And Steve watches him, notices the way his cheeks get flushed at the heat of it
all. He gets bold, reaching up to get Bucky’s pants open, reaching into his
briefs to get a handful of his cock. Bucky gasps, looking at Steve from under
his eyelashes. He stays complacent for a moment, letting his hands fall to his
sides. The ash on the cigarette crumbles under the weight of itself and falls
to the ground.
His brows furrow when Bucky grabs his wrist to stop him from moving. Their eyes
meet for a second, Steve just trying to recognize what Bucky’s trying to do as
his hand is extracted from the other man’s pants. He doesn’t expect Bucky to
take his hand to his mouth, lick over his palm while his eyes keep on his.
“Oh jesus,” Steve whispers, knees shaking at the feeling of Bucky’s tongue over
his skin, wetting it. Tasting it.
“Now go ahead,” he says, dropping it away so he can exchange it for his
cigarette. He inhales the smoke, exhaling when Steve fits his hand around his
dick again. “Fuck yes…” He hisses, leaning into Steve and putting his now free
hand on Steve’s shoulder for support.
Steve doesn’t waste time. He strokes him fast, twisting his hand the way he
likes when he’s alone to get Bucky rushing to the edge as quickly as he
possibly can. He watches Bucky moan, watches him bite down on his lip to try
and keep quiet so the moans turn into whimpers and the whimpers into whines.
The people just outside the alley are talking too loud to hear the sounds that
Bucky makes. So they’re Steve’s and Steve’s alone. He revels in it. Breathing
in the smoke when Bucky takes a drag from his cigarette – the only thing he’ll
allow himself to open his mouth for.
He gets up close to Bucky’s mouth, letting him know it’s okay to let out the
smoke right against his lips. He likes that. Bucky sees it and smirks,
breathing out and staring right into Steve’s eyes as he does.
“You’re gonna make me fuckin’ come like this, Steve,” he warns, voice strained.
The precome makes it easier for Steve to stroke him faster. He twists his hand
around his head, watching Bucky’s face when his mouth goes slack, eyebrows knit
up, eyes squeeze shut.
“Yeah? Want me to stop?”
Bucky practically whines, shoving his hips into Steve’s hand with frantic shake
of his head, “No – ah. Shit.” He takes another drag and lets it out shakily
before tossing his cigarette aside. His free hand comes to Steve’s forearm. Not
to make him stop, not to guide him, just to hold for support as Steve can feel
him start to shake.
“Oh fuck,” Bucky says, mostly silent. His head tips back, exposing his neck as
he lets out a silent cry. He spills over Steve’s hand, coating it and making it
so Steve smears it down his cock as he strokes him through.
Bucky pants unevenly, whimpering slightly when Steve keeps going past his
limit. “Shit…shit, Steve.” He warns, pushing at his forearm slightly. His eyes
open slowly and Steve lets him go, looks at Bucky with his blown pupils and
open mouth.
He doesn’t look away from him as he brings his hand up. It’s not anything he’s
done before, but after Bucky licked his chest clean the last time they were
together he’s been curious to try it. His tongue darts over his hand, tasting
the familiar bitterness of come as he swallows down. Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up,
breath stopping for a second.
“Jesus Christ, Steve,” he says, watching him suck his own hand clean, licking
between his fingers and sucking them into his mouth. He feels fucking filthy
and he loves it.
And he’s grinning even more, because it seems to get Bucky going again, earns
him a heavy kiss that steals his mouth away. Bucky kisses him silent, kisses
him groaning and desperate, kisses him happy. His palm is on the front of
Steve’s pants. A little harder than Steve can handle with how worked up he is
and he bucks his hips up into it with a loud moan.
He glances to the side, noting how close the people are to them.
"Bucky," Steve cautions, grabbing his shoulders.
Bucky ignores the worry in Steve's tone and sucks at his throat instead, making
him moan low again and press up to his hand for relief. He whispers around the
shell of Steve's ear. "You wanna fuck my mouth again? Choke me with your cock
like you did before."
Before Steve can even respond, Bucky drops to his knees. Steve squirms again,
wanting to tell him how dirty the ground is, how people might hear because he
knows he won’t be able to stay as quiet as Bucky did. But Bucky is pressing his
mouth against his dick, rubbing against him through his pants already and it's
the hottest goddamn thing he can imagine. He practically worships his cock,
looking up at him with desperate eyes and hands gripping at his thighs.
"You like when I talk like that to you Steve?"
Jesus Christ. His voice croaks out a response, "Yeah…God yeah."
Bucky grins. He moves to unzip his jeans, pluck open the button so he can pull
them down with his underwear enough that Steve is exposed to the chilly night
air. He's already hard, dick straining upwards at the perfect angle for Bucky
to lean in and purse his lips against the tip. There's still a little smirk on
his face, tell-tale by the creases around his eyes as he looks up at Steve.
"I mean, do you really want to waste time getting a room now?"
The right answer is, yes. The right answer is that there are people less than
ten feet away and they're in a disgusting alleyway and they're completely
exposed.
But Bucky has his mouth open and ghosting over Steve, wet lips and darts of his
tongue making him pant a little harder.
But he's got his hips rocking his dick up against Bucky's parted lips and face
and it feels goddamn amazing.
He shakes his head, swallowing down a moan. 
"Thought so," Bucky says with a grin.
He gives Steve the sloppiest blow job he's ever had, in the best possible
meaning of the phrase. He has his hands tangled into Bucky's hair the second he
feels himself hit the back of his throat. That becomes the only support he has
as his knees strain to keep him up and keep him thrusting into the other man’s
mouth. He's going slow at first, but Bucky is moaning and whimpering, looking
up at him with big innocent eyes that at the same time show that he knows
exactly what he's doing.
The first time Bucky gags, Steve slips out and smears his cock across Bucky's
lips. So he mouths at him, chuckling. "Trust me when I say, Steve, I'm not
trying to fuel your ego here. But your dick is fucking impressive."
Steve breathes out slow, looking down at him with a smirk he can't hide,
"Thanks." His hands are still in his hair, fingers push through the locks, push
them back.
He smiles up at Steve, seeming pleased with his reaction, and then goes back to
suck him into his mouth. He bobs his head, letting Steve match his pace as his
dick hits the back of his throat. Every single time.
Bucky's tongue works at the underside, works his head when Steve has to stop to
catch his breath because he's been close to coming for the last five minutes.
But Bucky doesn't ever stop worshiping his dick; mouthing at it
enthusiastically when Steve slips out, moaning and looking up at him like it's
the best damn thing he's ever had shoved between his lips.
And Steve can hardly keep up right, he's half lucid now with the way the
pleasure warms him over and takes him out of his body. He'd been good at
keeping quiet, but eventually he can't and his lip falls out from between his
teeth to release the noises he'd be trapping inside. He moans loud, ignoring
the people that pass by, tugging at Bucky's hair as he fucks a little harder
into his mouth. He's close, so damn close, and he tries to tell Bucky.
But just the way Bucky gags around his dick and then moans just after like it's
the greatest feeling in the world makes it impossible to think of anything
else. He wonders though, just before he manages to speak, where the hell Bucky
has been his entire life.
"Buck...Bucky I'm close. I'm.." He's completely incoherent. Each thrust is
punctuated by Bucky's name. Bucky. Buck. Buck.
He comes into his mouth with a loud moan, one that everyone undoubtedly must
hear. Steve's too far under to gauge the volume, but the sheer force of it
pushing out of his lungs makes him certain that they were now dangerously close
to being discovered. And he wants to move, speak, see, but his senses fail him
momentarily as his orgasm carries itself out.
Eventually, he comes to. Eyes focusing again down to where his dick rests
outside of Bucky's mouth, heavy on the other man’s cheek. There's come there,
smeared across his lips where he must have slipped out again before he was
finished.
"Oh my god," Steve rasps out, looking down at the sight of it.
Bucky grips him, curls his hand around him and pumps him again. Steve hisses,
hips bucking up because he's so damn spent that it hurts.
The kid licks his own lips, licks up the come and licks the head of Steve's
cock clean and spit slick again. He doesn't ask, but puts Steve back into his
jeans, dressing him back up again. Steve lets his own hands falls slack out of
Bucky's hair as he watches him, the two of them never taking their eyes away
from one another.
Steve offers Bucky a hand so he can stand, which he takes, but is careful not
to put too much weight on Steve as he gets to his feet. They're eye to eye
again and Steve is still trying to catch his breath, trying to make his body
stop shaking from just how good that orgasm was.
"You think you're gonna be able to keep going, Steve?" Bucky asks. His eyes
show a flash of something that Steve is hesitant to identify as concern. He
puts his hand on Steve's cheek and Steve lets himself feel some sense of
comfort, happiness in the intimacy of the action. "You don't have to do anymore
tonight. Don't gotta impress me or anything."
There's something in his face that says he's already impressed.
Steve's still panting. "I'm just...tired as hell now." Which was true, but he
doesn't say it like it's another way to tell Bucky that he wants to be done.
"Well what you paid up front covers a blow job. And more," he grins and leans
into kiss Steve almost chastely on the lips. Chastely, if it weren't for the
way Steve can taste himself on Bucky's mouth.
"Yeah, you can keep the change," he jokes, holding Bucky's hips. That earns him
a laugh and Bucky says, "You still have my number. See me again some other
time."
"You could come home with me," Steve blurts out. It makes Bucky draw back a
bit, so he can get a better view of Steve's eyes. Like he's trying to figure
out if Steve's being serious or not.
"And do what?"
Steve is up shits creek and not only does he not have a paddle, he's the idiot
who threw it away.
"Spend the night I guess," he says, insecure. He pushes off the brick, standing
up straight and rolling his shoulders. Bucky stares at him for a moment, taking
a small step away from him with a forgiving smile. Steve's wondering all of a
sudden how many times he's had to give that smile. I politely decline but I
like that you like me so much. It’s condescending as hell.
"My overnight rate is pretty high, Steve. No offense to you or anything like
that. But let’s just say the people who pay for me to stick around until the
sun comes up have to tell their butlers not to come in so they don't see
that there's a hooker in their bed."
It's absolutely ridiculous that Steve feels as dejected as he does. He nods,
"Alright. That's...yeah. S'okay."
Bucky grins, "Not to say I wouldn't mind waking up next to you." He steps into
Steve again and kisses him on the lips, speaking against them as his arms snake
around Steve's neck. "Just the way things are." They kiss for a while more,
Steve tasting Bucky and humming when Bucky licks over his tongue.
They walk out of the alleyway like nothing even happened. Bucky doesn't hold
his hand, doesn't really look back at him at all as he hails a cab. When one
pulls to the curb he opens the door to get it in and only gives Steve a wink as
a goodbye. Not as if Steve's expecting a kiss. Except that he was.
"I'll see you soon?" he asks Steve, half way into the cab as he speaks.
"Yeah, Buck," Steve answers. The nickname makes Bucky beam up at him with that
charming smile of is. He pulls the door shut, granting him another smirk
through the window.
And all at once, Steve is alone again.
End Notes
     Find me here: http://infinitygauntlets.tumblr.com/
     Also fun fact. The working title for this was "Back Alley Penis
     Party".
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!