Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9819023.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Captain_America_(Movies)
  Relationship:
      James_"Bucky"_Barnes/Steve_Rogers
  Additional Tags:
      Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Mutual_Masturbation, 1930s, Brooklyn,
      Horny_Teenagers, Frottage, Kissing, Boys_Kissing, buddies_being_pals,
      Masturbation, Moaning, Pining, Period-Typical_Homophobia, Bisexual_Bucky
      Barnes, Bisexual_Steve_Rogers, Best_Friends, Sexual_Tension, Sexual
      Experimentation, Explicit_Sexual_Content, Porn, Pre-Serum_Steve_Rogers,
      Confident_Bucky, Shy_Steve, Fantasizing, Dirty_Magazines, Teenagers,
      Humiliation_kink, Making_Out, Jewish_Bucky_Barnes, Power_Outage,
      Unresolved_Sexual_Tension, Denial_of_Feelings, Angst_and_Humor, Angst_and
      Porn, Innocence, Overstimulation, Begging, First_Time, Multiple_Orgasms,
      Some_Humor, Angst_with_a_Happy_Ending
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-02-19 Completed: 2017-02-26 Chapters: 6/6 Words: 4195
****** What Pals Do ******
by basilique
Summary
     Bucky's lips are soft, and his breath is hot as he pants against
     Steve's neck.
     “It’s just what pals do…other fellas do it too, they gotta. I bet you
     there's no fella in the world who hasn't...who hasn't with his best
     friend. Just…just kiss me, Steve. Don’t worry.”
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Makes it Better *****
It happens completely by accident. Bucky walking in on Steve jerking off.
Steve will never forget the mortification.
He is lying on his back with his hand on himself under the blankets, his eyes
closed, his forehead furrowed as he concentrates on the feelings between his
legs.
He doesn’t hear Bucky come into the apartment, doesn’t hear him kick his shoes
off, drop his coat, or cross the hall for their bedroom. He just hears the
doorknob turn, the door click open, and Bucky’s sharp intake of breath.
Steve’s heart stops. He is literally lying with his hand in his briefs, his
hair mussed, his face flushed. And the worst part is, he is lying in Bucky’s
bed.
But Bucky, in his typical easy-going, confident way, doesn’t make a big deal
about it. He just comes into the room and throws his stuff down in the corner
as usual.
It isn’t like…it isn’t like they’ve never overheard each other jerking off
before. They bunk together, after all. They sleep feet from each other; Bucky
in his bed, and Steve on the couch cushions on the floor. More than once, Steve
has awoken in the morning to hear Bucky breathing hard, or pressing moans down
in his throat as he rubs a pillow against himself, playing with his morning
hardness.
And once, experimenting with soap-slicked fingers in his ass hole, Steve had
accidentally moaned so loudly that he was pretty sure Bucky had heard him in
the kitchen. The messed-up thing was…in the heat of the moment, Steve had
somehow wanted Bucky to hear him. Because some deep, strange, incomprehensible
part of him wanted Bucky to come in and take over, take over touching him like
that. In that humiliating, heated moment, he had imagined Bucky pressing his
face against the shower wall, pinning him there and just letting him moan while
he did unthinkable, disgusting, amazing things to his ass.
But they had never actually had to acknowledge an episode of accidental
masturbation revelation until right now. Right now, Bucky had accidentally
caught Steve red-handed, and there was no way they could pretend that they
didn’t both know it.
“Sorry,” Bucky says, while Steve lies there under the covers, frozen with what
feels like rigor mortis and beet-red in the face.
“’S okay,” Steve squeaks.
“D’you, uh, want some magazines or somethin’?” Bucky asks.
Bucky keeps a shoebox of dirty magazines and paperbacks under the bed, Steve
knows.
“Sure,” he says, mostly to try and sound casual, while still staring at the
ceiling.
Bucky kneels down beside the bed, pulls the shoebox out, and rifles through for
a moment.
“Here’s a good one,” he says, lifting a magazine up and laying it on Steve’s
chest.
Steve bashfully pulls a hand out from under the covers and takes the magazine.
He sits up and turns to lean against the wall, still not looking at Bucky on
the pretense of looking very hard at the scantily clad ballerina dancing on the
cover.
“Steve, it’s alright,” says Bucky after a thoughtful moment, looking at Steve’s
burning face. “Everybody does it. I gotta do it every damn day or I go crazy.
Here, let me show you some of my favorite dames in here.”
Bucky hops up on the bed on top and leans against the wall beside Steve.
He smells like rain from the street outside. It is hitting the window, a light
pitter-patter, and dripping off of the gutter. Steve can also smell a hint of
Bucky’s cologne, still left on his neck from his morning application, and a
little sweat on his clothes from a day of working, bargaining, flirting, being
Bucky.
“I talked to Jim Eisenstein from youth group. He said he and his pals jerk off
together all the time. Makes it better, I guess, makin’ it social.”
“Huh.” Steve does not know quite what to make of that. It makes a certain
sense, how…sharing it with somebody might make it better. He could see himself
maybe doing it with Bucky. Since Bucky is his best pal, and all.
“What?” Bucky says.
“What? Nothin’,” Steve says quickly.
“Don’t nothin’ me, what were you just thinking?”
Steve silently curses Bucky’s way of perceiving every mico-expression on his
stupid face. No one in the whole damn world knows him better, and it's been
that way ever since they could walk, could babble.
“I was just wonderin’ what that would be like. That’s all. You know, to jerk
off together.”
“To jerk off together, you and me?” Bucky asks, and Steve jumps a little and
shakes his head hastily.
“No, just, with any other fella, you know. Other fellas. I was just. You know.
Trying to imagine. What it’d be like.”
“Well…” Bucky leans his head back against the wall and looks thoughtfully up at
the ceiling. “D’you wanna try it?”
***** Looking In *****
Steve’s stomach rises up inside of him like he is free-falling. Yes, he does
want to try it.
“Sure,” he says, in a tone that he hopes sounds very casual.
“Alright,” Bucky takes the magazine and thumbs through a few pages to a spread
of a red-headed girl in a yellow bikini, smiling at them as she props herself
up on a beach towel. And…gosh, her breasts are practically bursting out of the
brassiere, and she doesn’t seem to mind at all.
Bucky sets the magazine back on Steve’s lap. He undoes the buckle of his
trousers and pulls down his briefs a little. Steve’s heart starts beating even
faster, pattering like crazy, and the butterflies in his stomach intensify as
Bucky reaches into his own trousers…and starts stroking himself.
Steve’s own hand, still under the covers, brushes over his thigh and back to
his own cock. He had gone soft in his embarrassment, but now, he feels himself
start to swell again.
Bucky’s eyes flick for just a second to the bulge in Steve’s lap, the spot
where he rests his hand on himself under the covers. Then he looks back at the
girl.
“Can you imagine what that bathing suit looks like on her wet?” he murmurs.
“Picture that. Imagine her coming out of the waves, smiling like that, right at
ya.”
Steve closes his eyes to picture it; the girl’s soft, curving body and the
flirtatious gleam in her eyes. And yes, it sure is a nice image.
But what makes it really nice is the fact that it’s Bucky’s fantasy. Bucky’s
jerked off to this very scene before, probably more than once…and Steve gets to
look in through the glass, into Bucky’s inner world of lust…
Why does that thought get his heart beating like crazy?
Outside, the rain is picking up, beating harder against the window pane.
“Imagine she’s your best girl,” Bucky says, his voice dropping to a hoarse
whisper. “And there’s nobody else on the whole beach. And you’ve just been
sitting on the blanket watching her play in the water, thinking you’re just the
luckiest man in the world. Imagine it real clear, Steve, what she looks like.
She’s got freckles on her face and arms, cause it’s been a hot summer. And
she’s got freckles in other places too, but you’re the only one who knows about
those. She let you see her breasts at the drive-in, lyin’ under you on the
backseat…”
There is a loud peel of thunder, and a little startled, Steve opens his eyes
for a moment.
He sees with a pang of shock that Bucky is watching him. Bucky’s face is turned
toward his, only inches of wall between them, and his beautiful, round, blue-
green eyes are attentive as he watches Steve imagine, his own hand moving
lazily in his pants.
A shudder of inexplicable pleasure runs through Steve’s whole body, and he
closes his eyes again. But he keeps his face turned toward Bucky’s.
And when Bucky speaks again, his voice is lower, and a little breathy.
“She comes toward you across the beach, and she pushes you back on the towel
and gets on top of you…”
But Steve isn’t picturing the girl at all. An image of Bucky has replaced her,
powerfully vivid and realistic, wet and smiling and a little sandy, shoving him
back and crawling over him. Bucky, who smells like rainwater and cologne and
hair gel. Bucky, who is sitting right next to him on the bed. Bucky, who is
conjuring up this image just to turn him on and then, inexplicably, watching
him.
Steve draws in a very shaky breath, his eyes still closed and his lips parted.
“She wants you so badly,” Bucky whispers, his voice very breathy now. “Wants to
make you feel good. Wants to see you lose control and just…just gasp and twist
under her and…just…Stevie…”
At the last word, a wave of heat rolls over Steve, so intense that he feels it
in his ass, in his nipples. He gasps a little, and screws up his face to keep
from showing the raw feelings that are taking over his brain.
Bucky didn't mean to say his name like that...to make it sound...like a gasp of
longing. Of course he didn't.
But, God. Steve's hand in his pants is shaking.
***** Slick *****
Bucky hangs his head over the side of the bed for a moment and reaches around,
then comes back with a tin of Vaseline. He tosses the lid aside and scoops some
out on his fingers. Then he pushes the hem of his briefs further down,
unbuttons his fly the rest of the way, and lifts out his cock.
He slicks it with the Vaseline. Steve watches him smooth his fingertips up and
down himself, taking his time, enjoying the sensation.
Steve’s whole body feels shaky. He wants to stare. He wants to see what Bucky
can do to himself. He wants to know everything about it.
But he forces himself to turn his head away. Eyes on your own plate. He looks
determinedly down at his own lap, his own cock tenting the blanket. But he just
can’t help it: he watches, out of the corner of his eye, the way that Bucky
touches himself. He’s light, and teasing, and his fingertips linger at the head
of his cock. He’s sensitive there. Steve shivers at the discovery.
Bucky closes his eyes, lost for a moment in the pleasure of his own touch. And
he looks so beautiful, so devastatingly innocent and wicked and perfect, that
Steve just can’t stand it.
He kicks the blankets off his lap.
His body is too hot, a sweat starting between his shoulder blades. And he wants
Bucky to see him too. He wants Bucky to know how hard he is. It doesn’t make
any sense, he just wants it.
He grips at his t-shirt off too, tugs it up a little roughly, and after a
moment of struggle, he gets it off over his head.
He hears a sharp exhale from Bucky, and when he looks over, Bucky is looking at
his naked cock.
…And Steve wants him to. He wants Bucky to watch him stroke himself to
orgasm…he just wants it, he wants it so badly…
His fingers fumble into the lube and he brings it back to slick himself. He’s
big, for his body size: almost as big as Bucky. He likes the look of his cock,
to be honest, but he’s never shown it to anyone else before.
He hopes that Bucky will watch, and Bucky does, as he oils himself and slides
into his own fist.
After a moment of staring, Bucky tears his own shirt off and throws it across
the room. His eyes are wide, and…darker than usual, his pupils expanded. His
chest and neck are a little flushed, bright with sweat. He leans back against
the wall again, closer to Steve than before.
And Steve, his heart hammering like mad, moves even closer to him. Their arms
are almost touching. Steve can feel the heat from Bucky’s skin, as they stroke
themselves, side by side on the bed.
They fall into a rhythm together, moving in unison, and oh, God…every stroke,
he wishes his own hand was Bucky’s. Bucky’s hand holding his cock, Bucky
rubbing him, stroking him…If Bucky touched him for just a second, just a
second, they could pretend it was an accident.
Even if they did more, no one would ever have to know. It would be so easy for
Bucky to just reach over and take hold of him. Steve’s cock pulses as he
imagines it. It doesn't have to be complicated…just another boy rubbing him
off. Or else, oh, God, yes, Bucky’s mouth, Bucky leaning over to suck him.
Another boy sucking him. His boy.
The thought of the tender, warm, wet pressure, the softness inside Bucky’s
mouth, is too much, and Steve’s head rolls back against the wall as he moans.
Bucky draws a very shaky breath through his nose, and his hand tightens on
himself. He clenches his eyes closed.
And then he speaks, in a very low, shaking voice. “Steve, do that…do that
again.”
And that is enough to make him do it, alright. Steve moans again, just for the
fact that Bucky liked the sound of it, and Bucky draws a hiss of air between
his teeth and stifles a moan in his own throat. Christ.
Steve can barely hold his head up for the fever in his body, so he keeps it
resting back against the wall, as he turns his face to Bucky. He has to watch
the pleasure on Bucky’s face, and he’s past caring about the humiliation. Let
Bucky know, let him know that Steve is that way, that he’s that way for Bucky
and only Bucky and always Bucky. They can deny it, and press it down, and
regret it later. But right now…
Bucky turns his face toward Steve’s. His lips are moist and reddened, his eyes
glassy, his skin…glowing.
A moment of eye contact, their chests heaving, and Bucky's expression is
something like wonder, and then…
The light flickers, and the room goes black.
A loud crash of thunder outside; a power outage. And in the sudden anonymous,
forgiving darkness, they find each others mouths. Hands reach, and grasp, and
pull at hair, and they moan into a fierce, clumsy, desperate kiss.
***** Like a Lover *****
Chapter Summary
     Content warning: brief references to homophobic violence and gay
     conversion therapy.
Bucky’s arm wraps around Steve’s waist, and he hauls him around, into his lap.
They sit, their naked chests close together in the darkness, eyes fiercely
shut, noses brushing, mouths searching.
Steve doesn’t dare open his eyes. Because on the one hand, this is probably a
dream, and he doesn’t want it to end. And on the other…if this really is
happening, and he looks into Bucky’s eyes right now, how will they ever go
back?
Because they have to go back. They can’t be sweethearts. If someone were to
find out, they’d be beaten for the rest of their lives, maybe even murdered. Or
else, sent to one of those places, those “conversion therapy” institutions,
that tortured and mutilated boys…boys like them.
Steve wasn’t afraid of pain. Or torture. Or any of it. But he would rather die
than see Bucky hurt like that.
Bucky was his whole damn world.
Bucky’s mouth comes to Steve’s neck. He kisses him there, and his breath is hot
on Steve’s throat as he murmurs, “Don’t worry, Steve, it doesn’t have to mean
nothin’.”
Bucky Barnes, reading his mind again, as always.
“It’s just what pals do…other fellas do it too, they gotta. I bet you there's
no fella in the world who hasn't...who hasn't with his best friend. Just…just
kiss me, Steve. Don’t worry.”
Steve does kiss him, his hands running and tangling through his hair, pulling
it out of its gelled shape.
Bucky kisses his naked shoulder, his collar bone, kisses up his neck. Then he
bites him, lightly, on the sensitive skin below his ear.
The spot tingles and Steve shivers. And he is reminded that, unlike him, Bucky
actually knows what he is doing. Bucky has kissed lots of girls before. He’s
even gotten to second base. And Hell, there’s plenty of girls interested in
him; Bucky could be out on the town right now, on a hot date, if he wanted to.
But instead, here he is, in their own shabby apartment, kissing Steve.
And whispering to him like a lover.
“Don’t matter none, Steve. I just wanna see you feel things, just want…”
Steve gasps a little, and his hand comes back to rest on his own cock. He rubs
the head with his thumb, shifting a little in Bucky’s lap, and Bucky moans
quietly and grasps at his own.
Steve lets his forehead fall against Bucky’s as they both rub themselves. His
brow furrows with emotion, with longing. His stomach flutters with wild
butterflies. His body is still shaky. His palm, wrapped around his cock, is
sweaty. He is a mess, and it only gets worse, as hot, throaty noises start to
come from Bucky.
Bucky’s sounds go through Steve, and he feels a wild, maniacal urge to make
Bucky make more of them. With his free hand, he pinches Bucky’s nipple, and it
works; Bucky’s sweaty back twists against the wall, and he moans louder than
ever.
Steve feels the sound between his legs. It’s a fierce, jealous heat, and it
makes him want to cum all over Bucky. Lay claim to him as mine, mine, mine.
“Steve.” Bucky grasps at his shoulder, and their eyes meet, directly, for the
first time. “You gotta look at me when you cum, alright? I gotta…I gotta see
your face.” Bucky gasps, jerking harder in his own hand. “Steve…”
“Say my name,” Steve gasps, as the sound of his own name, moaned like that,
sends hunger pains of pleasure through him. “Say my name again, Bucky…”
“Steve,” Bucky gasps, his hand gripping possessively at the back of Steve’s
neck. “Stevie…baby…”
Steve lets out a cry, and ruts into his own hand as he cums, ejaculating across
Bucky's stomach. He forces himself to keep looking into Bucky's eyes, fighting
to keep them open as he moans and gasps in clenching ecstasy for Bucky, oh,
God...
Bucky watches his face, ravenous, and gasps with Steve in intense secondhand
pleasure. He jerks himself as he follows him to the edge, and over it. His eyes
roll back, and his fingernails slide down Steve’s ribcage, and grip at Steve’s
thighs.
Steve kisses him as his orgasm comes to a close, and bites his mouth red.
He feels an airy rush of endorphins through his body from his own orgasm. But
this heat, this hunger, is unbelievable. Even with that release, and even with
his cock soft, he does not feel sated.
***** How Two Men Do It *****
Steve presses himself closer to Bucky, kissing Bucky’s neck like Bucky did to
him.
He wants to surround himself with Bucky, to fill every crevice of his body with
Bucky. Kissing him, watching the pleasure on his face, feeling his heat and
letting their sweat mingle…it’s more than he ever thought he’d get. But now
that he’s got it, it’s not enough.
He wants to have sex with Bucky, but…how? How would that even work? How do two
men have sex?
Bucky puts a hand on Steve’s lower back, and pulls him even closer. Their naked
chests slide against each other, slick with sweat. And when Bucky guides him
closer still, the soft flesh of their cocks brushes together.
Steve jumps, a reflexive spasm of shock going through his body. His cock has
never had any sort of contact with someone else’s body before. But for the
split second that their cocks touch, it feels good there, like a smoldering
fire. So then maybe…maybe that’s how men do it. They rub…
He can do it if he spreads his legs a little further…rub against Bucky…just
like this…
“Steve, yeah…” Bucky gasps and moans.
Bucky’s hands grasp at his hips, and Bucky presses back.
There is cum smeared across both of their stomachs, and their cocks are soft,
spent, but pressed together and moving against each other.
Steve doesn’t know if they are having sex or not. But it certainly feels like
it.
He presses his hot, soft flesh hungrily against Bucky’s. They slide, and roll
against each other. His cock is tender and sensitive, sparking with raw nerves
against Bucky’s, and he presses his legs apart desperately to get more
pressure.
Dear god, they’ve gone from just looking, to kissing, to this, and ohhh, Steve
never wants to stop. He can’t cum; his cock is spent. But his cock feels so
good, his whole body is drenched in sweat, and the heavy rain outside is still
obscuring the view into their window, and muffling their sounds. They’ve got to
do this while they can.
They hold their bodies together, pressing and rubbing for what feels like
minutes but is probably a half hour or more. It hurts a little, rubbing
themselves raw, but not enough to make them stop.
And eventually, Steve feels his cock rubbing against more resistance; they are
both starting to get hard again.
They rub their way, moaning and sweating, back to almost full hardness against
each other.
Steve has forgotten how to speak, and he makes inarticulate noises as he shoves
himself against Bucky. But Bucky, panting and feverish, manages to speak as
they explore their newfound sensitive, swollen hardness. “You’re so gorgeous,
Steve,” he moans. “You’re so perfect. Oh, God…” His fingers dig into Steve’s
hips. “Keep goin’. Don’t stop. Oh. Nobody’s ever gotta know. You feel so good,
Stevie, I want…ahh, oh God.” “Bucky,” Steve moans, and without knowing what he
is asking for, he is begging. “Bucky. Please. Please. Please.”
“Stevie…” Bucky’s hands fumble down over his throat, his chest, and pinch both
of his nipples. Steve’s stomach twists and he knows he’s going to cum again, as
impossible as it seems with his cock over-stimulated and not even able to get
fully hard. The tugging low down inside his waist is insistent, the pleasure is
unbearable.
Gasping and watching his flushed face, Bucky rolls Steve’s nipples between his
fingers. And then, realizing how close Steve is to cumming again, he actually
growls, a primal, possessive noise, and brings one hand down to slide his
fingers down the crack of Steve’s ass.
Steve shudders and cries out at the filthy thrill of the touch, Bucky’s rough
fingers sliding between his cheeks. When they find the rim of his ass hole and
go still, touching him there, it is too much for his devastated body and
wrecked mind.
When he cums, his cock is rubbed so intensely sensitive that he screams,
pressing his legs apart as hard as he can and jerking his hips desperately as
every perfect inch of Bucky’s flesh slides and rolls against his.
“Bucky…!” His head falls back and he keens.
Bucky seizes him and lays him back on the bed. He rips the covers up over their
heads. Steve can't stop moaning, and Bucky loses his mind, grabs at him with
sweating, shaking hands. He grasps at Steve's limbs, his waist, his hands;
interlocks their fingers like a promise and scrambles to kiss, pinch, bite,
moan against Steve’s flushed chest, neck, face, thighs.
***** Epilogue: The Sound of the Rain *****
Chapter Notes
     Content warning: References to antisemitism and World War 2 Naziism.
A few months later, Bucky will go to war.
In the field, he will have fevered dreams about this night. The rain on the
barracks, or on the outside of his canvas tent, will remind him, in vivid
detail, how it felt to lie with Steve. He will jerk off quickly and quietly,
and when the fever breaks there will be tears in his eyes.
And not long after Bucky goes, Steve will go too. Because even if he cannot be
with Bucky, he can fight for him. The Third Reich and its ideologies are
growing, spreading through Europe like a lethal disease of the brain.
The Nazis want to rule the world. And they want to murder all Jews.
If they make it to America, there will be nowhere safe for Bucky.
So Steve gives his body as an experiment to the allies. He doesn’t care how
much it hurts, or if it kills him. Bucky spent his childhood protecting Steve
from bullies: Steve will do the same for him now.
What better way to love someone than to fight for their right to be what they
are?
Steve becomes an icon of the war.
Seventy years later, Bucky blasts back into his life with assassin’s reflexes
and gaunt, haunted eyes.
And years after that, they fall into bed together with no shame and no
confusion, and set to fucking like husbands, like soulmates.
Eventually they will get married. Eventually they will adopt three baby girls.
And for the rest of their lives, they will stand eye to eye, side by side, and
back to back, fighting for progress and love at every turn.
Because that, after all, is what best friends do.
End Notes
     Thank you everyone for the kudos and encouraging
     comments!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! XD <3 <3 <3
     Check out my other Stucky fics and follow me on tumblr for cover art
     and other fics and stuff: https://basilique.tumblr.com/
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