Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3577803.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Marvel_(Comics)
  Relationship:
      James_"Bucky"_Barnes/Steve_Rogers
  Character:
      Steve_Rogers, James_"Bucky"_Barnes, Thomas_"Toro"_Raymond
  Additional Tags:
      Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Deepthroating, I'm_Sorry, Dirty_Talk,
      Underage_Sex, inappropriate_use_of_shorts
  Collections:
      Steve/Bucky_Spring_Fling
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-03-20 Words: 4379
****** aces ******
by sparklebutts
Summary
     Bucky tries on Toro's "uniform".
     Steve quirks an eyebrow and gives him a once over, the furrow between
     his brow growing deeper. “That’s, uh, nice? It suits you.”
     “See, hothead, he-”
     “Yanno, because you wear such a dumb uniform all the time anyway,”
     Steve continues, mouth twisting as he tries and fails to hold back
     his grin.
Notes
     Hey there! So, this is set in comicsverse during the war, which means
     Bucky is almost definitely under the age of eighteen. I tried to
     address that a bit in here, but I'm not sure if I managed or how it's
     come off. Anyway, I'd obviously like to state that I do not condone
     sex with minors, and although the age gap is minimal and Bucky is
     consenting, I recognize there are a lot of underlying issues there
     and see that it's problematic. I usually age him up in my head when I
     read comics things where he's paired with Steve, myself. (If you
     wanna do that too, feel free.) If this makes you uncomfortable,
     please don't read it!
     Also, Chex, I hope you like it. :) I'm not super well-versed in
     comics based on these guys, but I figured the fandom needed more
     bootyshorts. (There was going to be a plot idea, at some point, I
     swear... ahem.)
See the end of the work for more notes
By some grace of god, the half-abandoned town they end up stopping in has
functional plumbing.  One of the buildings even has an honest-to-goodness
shower, and everyone is rightfully squabbling over who’s next in line.  (Bucky
gets in first, mostly because everyone who’s known him for more than a day
knows he’s happy to wrestle for it.)
It’s balmy enough outside that he’s not bothered by the evening breeze against
his damp skin -- in fact, it’s almost nice.  Water drips down the back of his
neck as he jogs back towards the tent he’s sharing with Toro, towel tucked up
under one arm.  He’s just wearing his skivvies, which are starting to cling
awkwardly to his thighs.  He hadn’t bothered to dry off all the way, and he’s
beginning to regret it.
He’s almost back to the tent when he catches sight of Steve tucked away behind
a couple of trees. He’s a pretty hard guy to miss, and Bucky swings around the
long way to see what he’s up to.  Steve’s shirtless, bent over a bucket as he
soaps up his chest.  Of course Steve is using cold water out of a bucket.  Of
course.  It’s not the worst view, though, and Bucky’s hardly one to complain
about seeing his captain half-naked.
“Hey, Cap! Matchstick owes me lots of favors, you want me to make him heat that
up for you?”  
Steve shrugs.  “I’m fine, Buck.”
“Uh-huh.  Must be terrible, someone offering you hot water.”
Steve gives him a look, and Bucky winks.
“I’m fine with this, I don’t see a reason to-” Steve starts, but Bucky’s quick
to cut him off.
“Okay, okay, well, me and Toro are over there--” he points to the tent and
slings his towel around the back of his neck, “--if you wanna come join me.”
Bucky winks again and Steve's eyes go wide for half a second, like he's
expecting someone to jump out from behind a tree and let everyone know he's got
proof that Captain America and his kid sidekick are screwing.  (It's not like
that; it's never been likethat and Steve knows it, but it has yet to stay his
hesitation.)
"Don't you fucking give me that face, Rogers."
Ignoring Steve's dumbstruck expression, Bucky turns with an unnecessary sway to
his hips and saunters away.  He checks over his shoulder once and, as expected,
Steve's eyes are still on him -- Bucky sticks out his tongue, and Steve's blush
is visible even at a distance.  He drops his gaze quickly and hastily scrubs
under his arms.  When Bucky laughs at him, he waves him away, and Bucky trots
back to the tent.
Toro's already in the tent when Bucky gets there.  They’d left most of their
stuff inside after they’d set up camp -- not that they had much to start with.
 The tent itself was actually pretty nice, and large enough to house three cots
if they’d been so inclined.  (They hadn’t.)  The perks of being on an elite
team, he figures.  His cot was jammed up against the right wall and Toro’s, the
left, with as much room as they could manage left in the middle.
Bucky’d left his stuff between his cot and the outer wall of the tent, like a
respectable fellow.  The contents of Toro’s bag, however, are sprawled all over
the meager space.  The bag, mostly empty, is up-ended on Bucky’s cot -- they’d
called dibs, damn it -- and Toro is hunched over his own, carefully laying out
hoarded chocolate bars.  How did Toro even get this much crap?
Bucky rolls his eyes and throws his towel on the cot.  He shoves the bag to the
ground more forcefully than necessary, but Toro isn’t bothered enough to look
up from his task.  A single pair of Toro’s shorts flop out and hang
precariously over the edge of his cot, and Bucky grins as he starts to strip
down.  He had been planning on getting dressed in something more than his
underwear, but putting on Toro’s ridiculous short-shorts is a much more
entertaining, if not better, use of his time.
He’s got them shimmied almost all the way up when Toro finally turns around.
 Bucky almost wishes he’d been situated the other way, to get a look at his
friend’s face.  Almost.  The crack of fire across his bare ass has him yelping:
he startles forward and nearly trips over the cot.
“No one wants to see that!  What the hell are- those are my pants, you
jackass,” Toro shouts, and Bucky can swear he feels the room heating up.  
“Yeah, but I look better in ‘em,” he retorts, yanking them the rest of the way
up.  He winces -- that spot’s going to be tender.  It probably left a welt.
“You ain’t got the musculature for it.”
Bucky sticks out his tongue and flexes in response.
When Toro sends another crack of fire snapping past his ear, Bucky laughs and
takes a more drastic pose, legs splayed wide as his arms curl down towards his
belly.  He’s not the brawniest guy, sure, but he’s lean and he’s been eating
pretty good lately, all things considered -- he tenses his arms closer and his
pecs pop out nicely.  
“I could be a regular model, yanno,” he says -- it’s Toro’s turn to laugh, and
Bucky straightens up to put a hand on his hip.  “I could! One of the gals I met
in France said so-”
“You did not meet any girls in France-”
“Just because you didn’t have any luck doesn’t mean-”
“Luck with who?” comes Steve’s voice, his head ducking under the tent flap.
 His hair is wet and still soapy in spots, and his shirt is sticking to his
chest in a damp patch that runs the length of his sternum. He's got a book in
one hand, and, Bucky notes, at least he's not still blushing. He does, however,
have a bemused frown, and he looks from Toro to Bucky and back.
"His right hand, that's who," Toro pipes up.
“Hey, Cap, like my new uniform?” Bucky speaks over him, obnoxiously chipper as
he throws up a salute.  He snaps his legs together and holds his arms out to
his sides in a mockery of Toro’s flight stance.
Steve quirks an eyebrow and gives him a once over, the furrow between his brow
growing deeper.  “That’s, uh, nice? It suits you.”
“See, hothead, he-”
“Yanno, because you wear such a dumb uniform all the time anyway,” Steve
continues, mouth twisting as he tries and fails to hold back his grin.
Bucky shrugs and brings his arms slowly out in front of him to give Steve the
finger.  It’s very graceful.  He can tell Steve’s biting back another smile as
he flops down onto his cot -- his, for Christ’s sake, did dibs count for
nothing? --  bending one knee up to prop his book against.
“I’m just showin’ Toro here how to actually be hot stuff,” Bucky explains.  As
he speaks, he picks another pose, with his leg pointed and arms above his head.
 It doesn’t take Bucky long to notice that Steve’s stealing glances at him over
the top of his book, eyes flashing up briefly before he ducks back into the
text. Bucky grins broadly and lets his hands roam his own chest, breathing out
a contented sigh.
Toro rolls his eyes-- he’s been around these two long enough to know what’s
going on-- and hurries to gather up his armful of chocolate.  "You're gross. At
least take off my- no, no, nevermind -- get a room, you assholes."
"I have a room, sparky."
Toro flicks him off, slinging his bag over his shoulder and says exasperatedly,
“I’m gonna go hunt down some cigarettes. You guys want any?”
Bucky nods and wags his eyebrows at him, giving him a playful wink that has
Toro scowling and almost running for the exit.
When Bucky looks back to Steve, he is resolutely glaring at his book, trying to
hide the blush slowly spreading across his face as he realises Bucky’s
attention is back on him. Bucky smirks and stands, stretching again, arms
straight above his head as he tenses his abs.  He shuffles closer to Steve and
doesn’t make any attempt to hide the hint of an erection easily visible in the
tight shorts.
Steve glances over, blushing bright pink, his eyes flicking briefly to Bucky’s
face.  Their eyes meet and Steve quickly snaps his gaze back to his book, eyes
not moving over the words.
“Like what you see?” Bucky asks, grinning like an idiot.
Steve keeps staring intently at the book.  He even flips a few pages, but the
illusion is a weak one.  Bucky picks his way around the cot until he’s standing
at the head, stooped over Steve and mockingly reading passages of text.
Steve’s resolve finally cracks and he tilts his head back.  In a stunning
display of self-control, his gaze only lingers at Bucky’s crotch for a moment,
before his eyes dart up to his face.  They’re both flushed, Steve moreso -- or
perhaps it just shows better on his skin.  Bucky’s cock twitches, slowly
thickening within the tight space of Toro’s shorts.  Steve quirks an eyebrow
and lets the book fall closed against his chest.
“Well?”
Bucky huffs in reply and wiggles his hips.  “I got a problem, Cap, you gotta
help me out here.” 
Steve pretends to immerse himself back in his reading, but he keeps skimming
the same paragraph over and over without the words really registering.  “Well,
maybe if you come down here, I-”
Bucky drops to his knees so fast they crack against the packed dirt the tent’s
stretched out on. Steve grins and stretches out the arm he had folded behind
his head, tentatively groping along the line of Bucky’s cock through the
shorts.  With a grunt, the younger boy shimmies forward, greedy hands already
drifting down Steve’s muscular arms toward the broad plane of his chest.
Steve purses his lips, like he’s thinking about saying something -- probably
something along the lines of ‘we shouldn’t’ or ‘you’re my friend, but..’ or
‘Toro’s gonna be headed back soon’, and Bucky doesn’t want to hear any of it.
 He stands just as eagerly and turns, clambering onto the tiny cot to straddle
Steve’s chest, knocking the book to the ground.  
“Stop it.  You’re- we’re basically the same age.  You couldn’t take advantage
of me if you tried, now quit fucking scowling at me.”
Steve’s mouth falls open, the mottled blush spreading down his neck.  Whatever
protest he had is obviously forgotten as his hands move to cup the backs of
Bucky’s thighs, urging him closer.  Bucky smirks and complies, a breathy laugh
escaping him as Steve leans up and presses his lips to the clothed head of his
prick.
“Don’t-- mm, shit, Steve, don’t make a mess, I gotta give these back-"
From this angle, the responding glare is almost comical.  Steve, still
frowning, keeps lightly mouthing at his dick anyway, and Bucky's not sure what
it says about him that it gets him so worked up so quickly.  Steve’s jaw is
relaxed, lips parted, and he slowly drags kisses all across Bucky’s dick and
down to his balls.
It’s not until he feels the warm, wet press of Steve’s tongue through the
fabric that he lets out an involuntary grunt, mouth falling open. “I- Uh, I
think he’s gonna see if you drool all over---”
Steve pulls back, head dropping heavily back onto the cot, and Bucky is bitter
for the loss.  He has one hand in Steve’s hair before he knows what he’s doing,
and they stare at each other for a brief, silent moment.  Bucky cards his
fingers through the damp hair above Steve’s temples, rubbing gentle circles
until their gazes break -- Bucky’s eyes flicker down to Steve’s lips, parted
and panting lightly.  It sends a warm thrill of pleasure swirling through him,
settling low in his belly.  This is dumb, and they both know it, but god, the
way Steve blushes, deep and blotchy; the way his eyelashes look so fucking long
from this angle, as he gazes blearily at Bucky’s crotch.  
“So maybe you should take them off,” Steve says, his cheeky grin belied by the
heave of his chest as he breathes.
Steve’s hands, still settled warm on the backs of his thighs, skirt up over the
swell of of his ass.  His fingers dip in under the waistband, pressing against
soft flesh.  There’s a look in his eye as he kneads at the top of Bucky’s ass -
- wide-eyed and something close to awe; apprehension.  He doesn’t make the move
to pull them down, though, always so hesitant when it comes to moments like
these.
Bucky rolls his eyes, but the gesture is half-hearted at best.  He’s not a kid,
he’s not fragile, it ain’t like they’re not in the same goddamn boat -- no,
Steve, you’re not taking advantage of me, yes, Steve, I know you fucking like
it.  He ticks off all the well-worn conversation points in his head before
either of them speak, shutting Steve up before he can voice any of them with
one hand over his mouth.
The other moves up to his own hips, thumb hooking into the band of the shorts.
 He tugs them down, cock stretching down with them; he wiggles his hips and it
finally bounces free, tip flushed and beading pearly precome.  He pushes the
pants down just a bit more and Steve, eager as ever to help, takes his balls in
hand and toys with them.  Bucky gasps and the shorts stay put, bunched just
under his sack.
“Mm, it’d be just awful if you messed those up,” Cap is saying -- Bucky’s
having a hard time focusing on the words, because Steve’s also got one of his
broad, warm hands wrapped around the base of his dick, tugging lightly.  “Guess
I better suck you off then, huh?”
That gets his attention.
Steve tilts his head forward and gets the tip into his mouth.  It’s an awkward
angle, so Bucky tries his best to sit still and let Steve do the moving.
 Steve’s hands find their way back around to his ass, and his voice comes to
him as Steve digs his fingers in, urging him forward.
“When you get a crick in your neck, I’m not taking the blame for it-- ahh,
yeah, goddamn-” His words trail off and he grins weakly down at Steve, a little
light-headed.
Steve flicks his tongue across the head, unable to get too far down Bucky’s
shaft.  And he’s just staring up at him, and Bucky feels his heart flutter: he
gasps, in spite of himself, and his hips cant forward.  One hand sinks into
Steve’s hair and he pushes just barely into the wet, enveloping suction of
Steve’s mouth.
He doesn’t get too deep before Steve’s grip on his ass tightens, signaling him
to pull back out.  That’s just fine with Bucky -- it all feels good.  Steve’s
lips are so goddamn plush, wrap so perfectly around him.  Bucky’s content to
sit there, straddling Steve’s chest, grinding the head of his cock into his
mouth until he comes.  And he’s close, already, embarrassingly so.  His cock
hasn’t felt so full in ages, and that’s saying something.
“You’re so good at this,” he’s muttering, “Fuckin’ perfect.  Look so pretty
with your lips wrapped around me--”
Steve pulls off and gazes up at him, mouth slack, breath coming in quick pants.
 The head of Bucky’s cock twitches, bobbing against Steve’s lower lip, and he
drops his hand from Steve’s hair to stroke himself.
“Wanna -- Want me to come on your face?” Bucky asks, voice rough.
And isn’t that a thought, the image of Steve’s face striped with his spunk, all
flushed like he is now -- Bucky’s cock throbs, and Steve runs his hands
soothingly down his legs.
“No, I-” Steve pauses to clear his throat, and when he speaks again it’s
dropped down to that sure, commanding tone he uses in battle, “I want you to
get back on the floor and come down my throat.”
Bucky’s pretty proud of himself for not blowing his load right then and there.
 He gets up eagerly because, yep, that is a fantastic idea.  He swings his leg
over Steve, hopping a bit as he dismounts, his dick bouncing almost comically
where it’s pushed up by the shorts.  (God, he hopes Toro doesn’t walk in on
this.)
He shuffles around to the head of the cot while Steve pushes himself forward,
until his head tilts back and hangs just off the edge.  Bucky kneels, and he
can’t even feel the pain of the hard ground through the syrupy haze of
pleasure.
Bucky stretches up and pulls at Steve’s shirt, until it catches under his arms
and bunches up at his chest.  He knows Steve was scrawny, before (he’s even
seen pictures), but it’s never made much sense to him. His hands trail over the
swell of Steve’s pectorals -- they really are pretty glorious -- and it’s hard
to imagine him any differently.  He smooths his palms over Steve’s stomach
before gently raking his fingertips back up the length of him.  He lets his
nails just barely drag across Steve’s nipples, but instead of the moan he was
hoping to draw from the other man, he just gets a stifled giggle.
Bucky glances down, the head of his cock dragging across Steve’s cheek as he
shifts.  “What?”
“Nothin’,” Steve’s trying to say, except he’s still laughing.
“Now, look,” Bucky replies sarcastically, “That’s a proper reaction and all, if
you’re scared.  I know I’m probably the most hung guy you’ve ever seen, but
you’ll do fine.”
Steve, somehow, stays quiet, but his chest shakes with silent laughter.  Bucky
jerks his hips to the side and his dick smacks against Steve’s nose.  He’s
trying hard to scowl, really, he is, but the barking laugh his ‘punishment’
tears from Steve’s throat is infectious.
“Are you gonna put your mouth to good use or are we just gonna sit here
laughing about it?  Worst blowjob I ever got, I swear to god.”
“You’re the one rubbing your dick on my face,” Steve replies, grinning, “Seems
like maybe you don’t know what you’re doing.”
Bucky lets his mouth fall open in mock rage, then very carefully takes himself
in hand and drags the tip of his cock across Steve’s lips.  He draws it back
and forth, and is pressing teasingly at the corner of Steve’s mouth when the
older man finally parts his lips and takes him in.
He slips in easy at this angle, brushes across the back of Steve's throat
before he can catch himself and pull back. Steve gags on him, and Bucky grinds
the head of his cock gently against Steve's tongue while he catches his breath.
"Sorry, sorry.  Couldn’t, uh, couldn’t help myself.  You feel so good--”
Steve seals his lips around Bucky’s shaft and stretches his arms up from where
they’ve been resting at his side. He pushes lightly against Bucky’s hips, arms
bent and relaxed.  He doesn’t move, keeping his head as still as he can and
slowly licking Bucky’s cock.
Steve’s blown him before -- they’ve spent an awful lot of time together with
nothing else to do -- but each time, Bucky is surprised at how good it feels.
It’s been a while since they last fooled around, and Steve’s mouth is warm and
wet and when he pulls out so he can get a look at Steve’s face, a thin line of
drool connects the tip of his dick to Steve’s lips.
“You ready for some more?  I wanna be all the way in you, Steve, fuckin’ love
how your mouth feels, y’know that?”
Steve hums, pleased, and his fingers curl into Bucky’s skin.  The still-damp
skin on his forearms is pebbled with goosebumps, but when he shivers, it’s easy
for Bucky to tell it’s not from the cold.
“You like getting on your back for me, huh, Stevie?”
Steve huffs out another laugh, patting Bucky’s hip and urging him forward.
 “And you like the idea of Toro catching me sucking you?  C’mon, Buck, I want
it, stop teasing me.”
Bucky can’t help the smirk, really, he can’t.  “Want what, Steve?” he asks,
dick twitching just inches from Steve’s face, “You want Toro to see you like
this?  I really didn’t think that was your style, Cap, gosh.”
Steve’s face has gone beet red, but he’s never exactly been one to step down
from a challenge.  “I want you to hurry up and put your dick back in my mouth,
Bucky."
Bucky groans and guides himself back between Steve’s lips.  He keeps his
thrusts shallow at first, just rocking into the slick warmth of Steve’s mouth.
 It’s a nice image, watching his cockhead push in and out of those gorgeous,
swollen lips.
Barely a minute passes before Steve gets impatient and yanks Bucky forward,
stretching back to meet him halfway.  He takes a breath through his nose and
works Bucky’s cock into his throat, pressing forward until his nose presses
into Bucky’s balls.
"Fuckin'- fuckin' aces, Steve,” Bucky’s saying, and then he feels Steve’s
throat constrict and swallow around the tip of his dick and he’s lost, a raw
moan ripped up from his chest.
Steve holds him there for a moment, grip strong on his hips, letting go as
Bucky trails light fingers across his throat.  Bucky draws out slow, both hands
back on Steve’s chest with fingers splayed wide, and allows himself a few more
shallow thrusts.  Steve’s tongue swirls around the head as he slowly drags in
and out, and he lets out a low sigh.
He starts to press deeper and Steve flattens his tongue, the tip just barely
peeking out over his lower lip.  Bucky shoves in, speeding up under the
insistent tapping of Steve’s fingers.  He knows Steve can take it, but Bucky
likes going slow and giving him time to adjust.  
When his cock brushes the back of Steve’s throat he pulls back, and he’s good
about keeping that depth.  His thighs flex as he grinds into Steve’s mouth,
hips pumping steadily.  He can feel spit running warm down his balls, and if he
tilts his head enough he can see the wet line streaking down the side of
Steve’s face.
His cock throbs.
“You alright, Steve?  I knew you liked takin’ it.  M’gonna give it to you real
good,” he groans.
He plunges deeper, balls slapping against Steve’s nose as he buries himself in
the captain’s throat.  Steve gags wetly around him but swallows him down
nonetheless -- Bucky takes that as a go-ahead and picks up the pace.  His hips
pump in an easy rhythm, jaw falling open as he pants.
Bucky takes his hands off Steve’s chest for just a moment, straightening up to
get a proper look at himself.  It’s a fucking work of art, how Steve’s lips
stretch around him, but as much as he’d love to watch his cock sink into
Steve's mouth, there are better things for him to be looking at.  Like how
Steve’s right hand has dropped off his leg and is now trailing down Steve’s own
chest, how he’s cupping his erection through his pants, how his fingers are
ducking under the waistband to touch himself as he chokes on Bucky’s dick--
Bucky grunts, shuddering -- he’s close, pleasure swelling in the pit of his
stomach.  He thrusts desperately into Steve’s mouth, head bowed as he attempts
to regain some composure.  He raises his eyes and it’s the sight of Steve
jerking himself off that sets him over the edge, blood pounding in his ears as
his orgasm rushes through him.
“I’m-” is all he has time to get out before he tenses and comes.
He holds himself still for a moment as it washes over him, dick throbbing in
the tight grip of Steve’s throat.  The pleasure fizzling up his spine clears
enough for a bit of rational thought to seep back in, and after he pulls out he
scrambles to strip out of Toro’s shorts.
Steve rolls to his side, nose wrinkled at the aftertaste, and wipes the drool
from his face with his arm.  The head of his cock peeks out from the waistband
of his shorts, thick and dark.  He leaves it untouched for the moment, arms
reaching for Bucky instead.  Bucky grins and  bends low over the cot, one leg
already his trousers, and kisses Steve.
“I think next time we oughta just suck each other at the same time,” Steve
suggests hoarsely, dragging the backs of his fingers lazily down Bucky’s back
when he turns to hunt for a shirt.
Whatever Bucky has to say dies on his lips as Toro’s voice filters through the
thick tent walls.  It’s quiet, indiscernible now, but getting louder.  He looks
to Steve, eyes wide, and throws his shirt at the other man’s lap.
Steve scrambles to reach down and grab his book off the floor, which he sets
awkwardly over his erection and shifts into a more casual position.  Bucky all
but throws himself onto Toro’s cot and props his head up on one hand -- he’s
half-considering feigning sleep, for all the good that’d do, but he notices a
stray strand of come glistening on Steve’s lip.  He’s miming at wiping his own
lip when Toro ducks in.  Steve gets it just a second later, and if Toro noticed
the evidence of what happened in his absence, he didn’t say.
“You’re both so lucky you know me,” Toro says, holding out a handful of
collected cigarettes, “You want one, Cap?”
“Uh, yeah, thanks,” he answers, face still splotchy and his voice raspy and
raw.
“You’re sounding awful rough,” Toro comments, and Bucky smiles wide, eyebrows
raised and eyes teasing, looking at Steve with pure amusement. “You sick or
something?”
Bucky takes a cig, and as Toro twists around to light him up, Steve mouths
‘later, jackass’ over his shoulder.  Bucky winks and takes a long drag, blowing
smoke out his nose.  As soon as Toro twists around to Steve, Bucky mouths back:
‘you love me’.
===============================================================================
 
Bucky makes sure that particular pair of shorts goes 'missing' when they pack
up to leave.
 
End Notes
     Many thanks to mildlyunnerving for helping me actually finish this. :
     B
     (also, if ur wondering why bucky sounds like a teenage boy attempting
     dirty talk, well. there you go.)
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!