Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/695186.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Captain_America_(Movies)
  Relationship:
      Bucky_Barnes/Steve_Rogers
  Character:
      James_"Bucky"_Barnes, Steve_Rogers
  Additional Tags:
      Size_Kink, Porn_Battle, Teenagers, One_of_My_Favorites, Comfort_Sex, Pre-
      Serum_Steve_Rogers, Pre-Serum
  Series:
      Part 3 of Thematic_Series:_Death_and_Sex
  Collections:
      Porn_Battle_XIV_(Fiery_Fourteen)
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-02-18 Words: 2827
****** Up Past Midnight ******
by Rubynye
Summary
     The Barnes family takes Steve in.
Notes
     Based on an idea of Derryderrydown's.
There's five days left before the month ends, but as far as Steve's concerned
Mr. Phillips can have the apartment now and the furniture too. He stands in the
doorway holding a suitcase with his clothes and sketchbooks, watching Bucky
dump the few cans from the pantry into the box with the spare sheets, looking
his last at the apartment where his Mom raised him.
His Mom's dead now. Those four words have echoed through his head for over a
week. They buried her this morning, and the dusty afternoon sunlight slants
through the kitchen window as Bucky gives Steve a big bracing smile. Steve
tries to smile back, but it feels fake and sickly; Bucky winces around the
eyes, hefts the box and heads over to him.
Because the door's shut, because there's no one here but them, Bucky puts down
the box and wraps Steve in his arms. He's getting broader by the day, he's
strong and solid and everything Steve's realizing he won't grow up to be, and
Steve buries his face in Bucky's crisp shirt and holds on tight, gulping
several warm breaths. But he doesn't cry. His Mom is dead, and blubbering won't
bring her back.
So Steve makes sure he lets go first and takes a step back, makes sure he
reaches for the box before Bucky can, though Bucky swats his hands away and
hoists it. "C'mon," Bucky says, and Steve grabs his suitcase with both hands
and lugs it along as, like always, he follows Bucky.
                                     *****
Steve startles out of sleep beneath differently layered shadows across the
ceiling, lying in a different bed. The pillow's softer, the window's on the
right instead of the left, and -- oh, yeah. Bucky's getting back into bed, warm
and solid behind him.
He's in Bucky's bed, where he'll be sleeping till they find one for him. Mrs.
Barnes tucked him in after he gave her his Mom's half-full jar of pennies and
nickels, a down payment on his boarder's rent. "Until I can get a job," Steve
told her; she bit her lip, smiled and patted his hair, took his hand like a
little kid and led him to Bucky's bed, and tugged the covers up to his chin so
gently his eyes hurt.
He should've minded, but he couldn't. Not tonight, not after his Mom was buried
this morning, not when he barely remembers his Dad. He conked right out into
dreamless sleep, and now he's awake as Bucky lies down beside him. As Bucky
takes a breath, rolls over and deliberately fits himself to Steve's smaller
frame, curling around Steve's curled-up body.
Steve relaxes, letting himself slump towards Bucky's warmth, practically
sitting on Bucky's long thigh. It's the middle of the night, nothing going on
but distant snoring and the occasional car driving past, they're effectively
alone. "Hey," Bucky whispers, a cotton-soft puff of breath, and Steve smiles
for real, for what feels like the first time in forever.
Bucky presses his hand over Steve's heart, and Steve breathes deeply and
slowly, trying to just feel Bucky beside him, trying to soak in his comforting
warmth without getting hard. He should be able to do it, not least after this
bleak day of mourning. He counts his breaths, noting how Bucky's hold tightens
and loosens, how Bucky's chest rises and falls against his back, how firm
Bucky's muscled arm feels over him and how good he smells…
Steve tries, he really does, thinking about how to draw the shadows across the
ceiling and the Dodgers' stats for the last three years running, as Bucky lies
behind him dozing into his hair and a disobedient ache swells in his dick. He's
trying to decide if he can roll onto his front without waking Bucky when Bucky
turns out to be awake. "Steve? Turn over?"
Steve blushes hotly, hoping Bucky can't see it in the dark, and flops forward,
but Bucky doesn't let go, instead pulling him in so he rolls onto his back. All
Steve can do is wrap his legs in the blanket to hide himself and make a grumbly
noise like he ever minds Bucky manhandling him. He blinks, his eyes focusing --
Bucky's looking straight at him, shadows and soft light painting the smooth
planes of his face, his eyes set deep and dark beneath heavy lowered lashes.
Steve's breath stops short and he's never felt less sleepy, staring up at Bucky
tucked beside him. He can't ever say it, not aloud, not to a guy, but Steve's
known Bucky's beautiful since he knew what beauty was, and with Bucky right in
front of him he can't think of anything else. Bucky stares back just as
intently with those bottomless eyes, sliding his tongue along his lip as he
reaches up to brush rough knuckles gently from Steve's temple to his chin.
Steve shudders, his eyes flickering closed, his confusion washed away by a rush
of familiar heat.
Still, Steve can't just surrender; he may have Bucky, but he's also got a
conscience. "Here? Now? Your parents are across the hall!"
Bucky twitches his hips closer, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "And they're
sound asleep. And you're in my bed." But then they widen as he lifts his hand
away from Steve's face. "Unless -- after today --"
After today what Steve wants is some comfort, and he always wants this when
Bucky wants him. He shakes his head until he sees Bucky's expression blank in
disappointment. Wrong message, dammit. He could smack himself in the face, but
he reaches up instead to drape his arm around Bucky's neck, watching Bucky's
eyes go round and his lips part, gleaming in the low light. Steve grins
unsteadily, already melting inside, and pulls himself up; his legs are
uselessly tangled and his first try gets the tip of Bucky's nose, but Bucky
laughs as Steve kisses him there, and kisses Steve's chin, and their second try
gets their mouths together properly.
Steve means just a quick kiss, not to be too demanding, but Bucky scoops him
up, arm across his back and hand cupping his ass, presses Steve to his chest
and kisses all the air out of him in an astonishing rush. It's the longest
Bucky's kept a kiss going since they were learning how, and he throws his whole
self into it, deep and tender at once. Steve never surrenders, but he does to
Bucky, pliantly letting Bucky pull him in tight, moaning quietly as their
tongues slide and dance.
Bucky chuckles deep in his chest, a rumble that sets Steve's skin ablaze, and
lets him go but only as far as the end of his nose. He tucks his thumb under
Steve's chin, settling his broad palm more firmly around Steve's ass, and Steve
wants to swoon, wants to let his eyes fall shut and his mouth fall open.
Instead he gasps, "What was that?"
"A kiss, Rogers," Bucky whispers, smirking as he strokes the corner of Steve's
mouth. "We're in bed, we don't have to rush."
Oh. Steve -- forgets sometimes, with how tall Bucky's gotten and how tough he's
always been, what's underneath. But he sees now, and tries to open up in
return, going to hook his leg over Bucky's. Except that he's still tangled, and
instead of coming up with something suave he has to ask, "Uh, can you help me
with the blanket?"
Bucky laughs, pulling his hand from Steve's face to muffle himself, his arm
from around Steve to tug the blanket free, and Steve hides his hot blush by
looking down to help, fussing with the blanket as Bucky rescues him. Bucky
kicks it away, leaving nothing over them but their pajamas, and glances over,
eyebrows pulling together as he asks, "You cold?"
Steve can't talk around the lump rising in his throat and the throbbing in his
pants. He shakes his head as he winds his arms tighter around Bucky's neck,
getting the right message across this time, and he knows Bucky lets him but
he's the one who pulls Bucky down to him for another one of those deep open-
mouthed kisses full of tangling tongues.
Bucky reaches over Steve to the dresser, showing off by kissing as he rummages,
and Steve presses a grin to his mouth before diving back in. Eventually,
though, Bucky has to pull away, muttering a curse as he looks up, and it's
Steve's turn to muffle a chuckle as Bucky sorts urgently through the drawer.
The strong line of his throat makes Steve's mouth water, and he knows the no-
marks rule, but he can't help but dare press his lips to the apple of Bucky's
throat, his reward Bucky's full-body shudder and huffed breath over him.
"Got it, no thanks to you distracting me." Bucky's prize is a little jar, and
Steve's heart skips another beat. They're really doing this. Every single time
he can't quite believe it. He looks up at Bucky, who grins back down at him and
kisses him again, and this time the kisses merge into a twisting unbroken
stream as Bucky tips them onto their sides, as Steve gets his leg hooked over
Bucky's sturdy thigh, as Bucky slides a lotion-slick hand into his pants,
cupping and squeezing and stroking him fast and faster. Steve's head spins as
he drowns happily in his best friend, clinging to Bucky's broad shoulders, his
nipples so hard he can feel the shirt's weave, Bucky's long strong hand
twisting around his happily aching dick. Bucky growls, tingling his mouth, and
that's it, the final push over the edge into an overwhelming rush of pleasure;
Steve falls apart in Bucky's arms, knowing Bucky will swallow down his noise,
that Bucky's got him.
He sinks down from the heights, he blinks back to himself, and then the thought
hits him right as Bucky smugly says, "That didn't take long."
Steve blushes hot and socks Bucky's shoulder gently, grabs a deep breath
scented with Bucky's skin, and says, "Let's see how long you last," as he
launches himself. Bucky laughs and rolls onto his back, pulling Steve up with a
hand on his waist so Steve's straddling his thighs. Bucky wipes the other hand
on his shirt, and laughs much too loudly when Steve leans away.
"Shhh!" Steve presses a hand to Bucky's mouth, who licks his palm, eyes
twinkling. "Don't you have a towel?"
Bucky shifts Steve's hand off his mouth, his fingers wide around Steve's skinny
wrist, his warm cheek silk-rough with stubble. "Sorry, forgot," he stage-
whispers, grabs his hem and peels the shirt off, and his chest makes Steve's
mouth go dry. Biting his lip against blurting out stupid words like 'massive'
and 'gorgeous', Steve strokes Bucky's chest, over dense skin and muscles and
pounding pulse, watching Bucky watch him and feeling Bucky's breathing speed up
beneath his hands.
He needs to stop teasing. Sitting back onto Bucky's thighs and digging his
knees into the mattress, Steve reaches for the jar. "Give me that shirt?"
"Huh, why?" Bucky tosses it back in reach over the corner of the bed frame.
"I'm not wiping my hands on mine." One hand good and slick, Steve tugs Bucky's
pants down with the other and Bucky lifts up to peel them down, bouncing him a
little. Bucky just grins, shuts his eyes and tucks his hands behind his head,
spread out and relaxed as Steve grips him and starts stroking. Warm all over,
Steve watches Bucky, the quiver in his eyelashes and lips, the glistening notch
of his throat, and wishes he were braver. The last Tijuana Bible he got hold of
for them was all about blow jobs, reminding him, like he could forget, that
he's been wondering what it would be like to suck Bucky, if Bucky would want
him to, if that would be just too much. He looks down at Bucky's dick in his
hands, hard and hot and the skin sliding beneath his greased palms, and wonders
if he could stretch his mouth around it. Probably not now, plus it's covered
with lotion.
Bucky sighs, thrusting shallowly into Steve's grasp, and Steve kind of wishes
Bucky would grab hold of him again, that he had a hand free or were tall enough
to lean in for a kiss. But… watching Bucky's chest rise and fall, Steve
remembers his own nipples tingling against his shirt, and decides to try
something. He leans down and gets his mouth on Bucky's nipple, firmly pressing
his tongue to it for good measure.
The response he gets, Bucky's gasp and thrash, is really gratifying and nearly
violent enough to throw him off. Steve tightens his thighs and hangs on, biting
down gently, and Bucky lets loose with one loud, "Fuck!" before he can muffle
himself. When Bucky starts moaning jerkily Steve leans back to see and gets
treated to the sight of Bucky arching and twisting, clawing at the sheet with
one hand and biting down on the other fist as he comes hard and fast and
gloriously, wracked and gorgeous.
Steve gasps, his hair hanging in his eyes, heat sizzling down his nerves, and
smiles in triumph as Bucky collapses beneath him. Once Bucky pats his hip,
smiling weakly and looking winded, Steve grabs the messy shirt and cleans his
hands, checks his own pajamas, and ignores his resurgent dick in favor of
sliding off Bucky's lap and flopping down beside him, arm pressed to arm. It's
a little while more before Bucky murmurs, "Steve, where the hell'd you learn
that move?"
Steve shakes his head, brushing Bucky's shoulder with his cheek, and watches
Bucky's eyes open, slowly, damp lashes looking longer than ever. "Made it up,"
he mumbles as Bucky lays a hand on his back, and closes his eyes to feel it.
"C'mere," Bucky mutters, and Steve looks up again; Bucky nods towards himself,
and Steve scoots up. "Oh, what've we got here?" Bucky breathes into Steve's
hair, tugging his pants down his legs for good measure. "Up again?"
Grinning sheepishly into Bucky's shoulder, Steve drags out his scraps of
bravado. "What're you gonna do about it?"
Bucky thinks a moment, squeezing Steve warmly, and rolls them over so Steve's
underneath now. His abs press delicious friction against Steve's dick, his
whole sturdy body blankets Steve, covering him with muscular weight, and Steve
has no idea what's on his face but it makes Bucky grin wide and kiss him hard.
"Go on," Bucky whispers between kisses, tugging Steve's leg up over his hip,
and Steve twists upwards once, twice, getting the hang of it, before his lower
brain takes over and his hips roll without his input. "Yeah," Bucky murmurs,
holding Steve tightly, pulling him up into the thrusts, and Steve tries his
best to kiss back, to keep quiet, to keep it together. He doesn't do so well,
but Bucky's got him covered, all wrapped up, and that stupid little fond
thought is the final spark that lights him up to go off again, all over Bucky's
chest.
Steve drifts in hazy pleasure, barely aware of Bucky laughing quietly in his
ear and leaning away to wipe himself down. He doesn't realize he's drifting off
until Bucky shakes his shoulder gently from a sideways angle, pressing his
pajama pants into his hand as he blinks. "You'd better put these back on,"
Bucky says, leaning over Steve's side of the bed, wearing a fresh shirt.
Once Steve's dressed, he's ready to sack out again, but not so sleepy that when
Bucky climbs in over him he misses the chance to reach up and grab one more
kiss. "Goodnight, Bucky," he murmurs, smiling as Bucky drapes the blanket and
one arm across him. If Bucky replies, Steve's asleep too soon to hear it.
                                     *****
Steve wakes up to sunshine and a wisp of cool air, to Bucky peeling away from
him to curl up back to back. He thinks of turning over to press his face to
Bucky's shoulder, then thinks better of it when he hears Mrs. Barnes humming
and bustling around beyond the door.
Instead he looks out the window, at the brick wall and the sliver of blue sky,
and thinks about the morning before, about saying goodbye to his Mom, his last
family. Looking up, he kind of hopes she was too busy getting settled in Heaven
to look back on him last night, but then, she always knew what he was, and she
always liked Bucky. When she does look down, Steve thinks, he'll find a way to
make her proud.
For now, Mrs. Barnes knocks on Bucky's door, calling, "Rise and shine, boys!"
Bucky sits up and yawns with theatrical exuberance, stretching out his arms.
Steve socks his shoulder cheerfully, and Bucky smirks, giving him that heavy-
lidded look for just a moment.
Then Bucky turns towards the door, calling, "Coming, Ma!" and Steve sits up,
beside his best friend, into his new day.
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