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It was a typical Sunday night. Steve sighed pushing his hands into his coat pockets and wandering down the strip of bars that lit up the street like a Christmas tree. People gathered outside buildings, laughing and joking creating an atmosphere that only hung around on weekends. Steve shuffled past quietly enough, his slim frame agile to weave through meandering folks all on their ways to god knows where.
He was glad it was summer, the humidity in the slight breeze prickling sweat to his forehead as he craned his neck to get a better look in the dives he passed. It was typical of Bucky, to be out so god darn late that Steve had no choice but to come and collect him himself. There had been numerous times where Steve hadn't bothered, and those times were usually the times where Bucky would end up passing out drunk in a gutter somewhere just to wake up shoe-less and a few bucks shorter than he intended.
It's not that Bucky always got drunk. Hell, he worked all damn week, Steve allowed him to get a little hazy on his only day off. But it worried Steve anyhow. They didn't live in the nicest part of Brooklyn and any time either of them spent apart they usually spent worrying about the other.
Steve turned off down a side-road walking towards one of Bucky's favorite joints where they played decent music and served cold beer. Steve pushed open the door and was hardly surprised to see it busy. He sighed, going by unnoticed as usual as he worked through the crowd.
And that's when he saw him. His lumbering oaf of a friend twirling some girl's hair around his finger as the guy she was with took a threatening step closer.
“God damn it Buck!” Steve yelled pulling Bucky back towards him, eyes wide in alarm. Bucky stumbled back against Steve, eyes still on the dame he was trying flirt with, her fella there looking awful angry. Steve raised an apologetic hand at the guy who sized him up. He shook his head, threatening gaze still pinned on a drunken Bucky. Bucky allowed himself to be led out the bar, Steve dragging him along like he was chastising a child. He was a lot weaker than Bucky, but Bucky's uncoordinated state made it easy enough to move him against his will. “One of these days you're gonna get yourself killed!” Steve snapped, pushing Bucky out the door and into the cool street. Bucky stumbled, the perfect picture of a fool as he straightened up his sunday best and mock saluted his best friend whose eyes nearly rolled out his head. He took a hold of the brunette's jacket sleeve guiding him through the throng of night-goers in the direction of their shared apartment building.
“Easy Rogers, just opening up a barrel of laughs is all!” Bucky said, shaking himself free and smirking down at his friend who was staring back at him with disbelief.
“With other guys dames?” Bucky waved a dismissive hand towards Steve who huffed out in annoyance. The walk back to their apartment was a long one, Steve silent most of the time as Bucky sang nonsensically and babbled about some of the guys from work. He would glance towards Steve hoping to get a response but Steve kept his eyes forward, brow furrowed and mouth in a tight unwavering line.
When they finally made it back to their building, Steve resigned the silent treatment in aid of helping Bucky up the long flights of stairs. They stopped once or twice, be it for Steve to get his breath back or for Bucky to retch in the corner of the hallway, Steve on look-out hoping no one would come and complain about the drunken fool.
When they finally made it through their front door Steve sighed in relief. Bucky simply laughed, falling into the room and preening under the dim candle light that Steve forgot to distinguish from when he was sat reading in the armchair by the window. Steve felt anger prickling at him and before Bucky could open his mouth to say something Steve beat him to it.
“Swear to God Bucky, when you're being such a babe I oughta be like your daddy and put you over my knee.” Steve complained, hanging his coat up on the hook on the back of their door, gripping the bridge of his nose at the flare of a headache that hummed behind his eyes.
“Why don't you then?” Bucky called out, hands raised in the air. Steve turned to him, mouth pursed eyebrows drawn together. Bucky looked the epitome of challenging, a sparkle in his eyes that Steve couldn't quite bring himself to recognize. He shook his head.
“Don't you tempt me, boy!” He pointed a finger at his friend. During their little spats Steve often came out on top. They'd never hit each other, but Steve always got the most heated. Seemingly forgetting his height and weight disadvantage and going right up close to Bucky, anger clouding his mind until his friend would always drop a light hand on his shoulder; followed by a heart-felt apology that would leave them hugging like they'd just found one another after years alone. And just like that, they'd go back to normal. Steve
turning to the stove to heat cabbage soup as Bucky would sit on the couch flicking through the day's paper.
Something about their current fight however, seemed too intense for such an easy finish.
“Do it. Lay your big, strong hands on me. Spank my hide till it's redder than a 5c apple!” Bucky shouted out, Steve swallowing uncomfortably at the sarcasm behind Bucky's tone. If he didn't know any better, he'd think Bucky was trying to get a god darn rise out of him.
“You better shut your pie hole Buck, or I'll take you up on that offer.” Steve spoke levelly, nostrils flaring as he exhaled, hands in fists at his sides. Bucky swiped a tongue over his plump bottom lip chuckling drunkenly as he leaned closer to the shorter man.
“Do it Rogers, lay one on me. Make me squeal like a babe.” He hissed the words into Steve's ear. Steve was so alarmed by the flare of heat that set his skin on fire that he fisted the front of Bucky's shirt, pushing him away from him. Bucky stumbled back, eyes just as dark, tongue still coating his bottom lip in a shimmering sheen that distracted Steve for a few moments.
“What the hell is up with you?” He hated how his voice cracked, giving way to his panic. Bucky took a step forwards, whether or not he was taking into account how much Steve was losing himself, he didn't show.
“Beginning to hate your empty threats, boy.” Bucky came towards him again, a smirk on his face and Steve just couldn't contain his anger any more.
He didn't know what in god's name he was doing, but he raised a hand bringing it down across Bucky's hide, the older man groaning at the sudden sensation. Steve stumbled back, hand burning with the reminder of hitting his best friend. Bucky remained frozen hands gripping the back of the couch that he had grabbed onto in surprise from the contact. His breathing was erratic. He looked about two seconds away from an angered frenzy and Steve gulped nervously.
“Bucky, Listen I'm s-” Steve felt his cheeks heat, an uncomfortable weight resting in his stomach as Bucky's grip remained white-knuckle tight on their weather beaten couch.
“Do it again.” Came his almost inaudible reply. His voice was heavy, dank with something Steve recognized but couldn't interpret as he took a tentative step forwards with perplexity.
“Bucky?” His words were weary, quaking as he rested a small hand on Bucky's shoulder bending down to try and catch a glimpse of his friend's expression.
“Do it again, only this time-” Bucky gulped, stopping his sentence in his tracks. Their eyes met for a few fleeting moments before Bucky began fumbling with his belt and buttons on his slacks. Steve gawked at him as he slowly pushed off the offending garments stepping out of them all together and revealing his underwear, tenting ridiculously at the front.
“Bucky-” Steve gasped, eyes wide as he stared at his friend's predicament, a wet stain visible on his cream boxer shorts. Bucky simply leaned over the couch again as though it was the most ordinary thing in the world. He took a deep breath, eyes meeting Steve's over his shoulder.
“Spank the hell out of me Steve.” His words hung in the air like a third presence biting at Steve's skin that bristled under the weight of the request.
“Bucky, I-” A nervous hand through his hair and a throbbing in his own slacks caused a taxed laugh to fall into the silence. Bucky stayed staring at him, eyes practically black in the dim lighting of the candles on the far side of the room.
“Spank me, daddy.” Bucky said the last word, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth and chewing on it as Steve simply stood there breathing, hands resting on the back of his head. Bucky was drinking him in, eyes roaming from his hard dick that was protruding from his pants, then back up to his blue eyes that blinked curiously at his best friend. Steve squeezed them shut, arousal and embarrassment fighting admits the confusion giving way to something completely unawares to him that made him straighten up.
He stood frozen for a few moments, lost in his thoughts. Lost in the moment. He swallowed down the doubt then. This was Bucky after all. Bucky who trusted him, whom he trusted. This was going to be something that neither of them had to speak of again. It could be something that happened once a day, year, never again. It could be something and Steve hadn't realized how long he had been waiting for something to happen with Bucky. Perhaps it was an inevitability, that somewhere within the touches and smiles there was always a part of them that was destined to cross the line that had been so blurred their entire lives that Steve barely recognized the moment he crossed it.
He took a slow small step closer to Bucky who watched him, something akin to fear blending with the arousal. His tan skin drenched in sweat as he anticipated. Steve noticed how his silence had somehow made Bucky's erection even harder. Their eyes were focused on each other as though waiting for the next one to strike. Bucky moved first, eyes still on Steve's as he bent down and picked up his belt from the ground. Steve watched as his pants fell back to the floor in an abandoned heap. Then he watched as Bucky folded the leather in his hands before biting down on it. Steve gulped audibly.
Silence passed between them like static and Steve felt compelled to gravitate towards the cause. He bought his hand down again, the vicious slap ringing out in the quiet apartment. Bucky bit down on the leather of his belt, huffing out against the strap in his mouth. His hips bucked for a moment or two before he settled back into his previous stance. Steve felt his prick twitch at the stinging on his palm and he huffed out a breath as he waited for his heartbeat to settle.
“Didn't know you liked being treated like a babe, Barnes.” He said, voice shaking. Bucky groaned around the leather in his mouth.
“Only for you.” His voice was muffled but Steve heard him.
“I'm gonna make you cry like one” Steve bought another slap across Bucky's hide, the fabric of his underpants shielding the full impact of the hit. Steve knew he wasn't very strong and he was thankful for that, he wouldn't want Bucky to be in too much pain.
There it was again, that throbbing in his cock that purred in the pit of his stomach. The mere thought of causing Bucky pain like this. He swallowed thickly trying not to reach into those dark and unwanted thoughts.
“Stevie. My dick's so fucking hard” Bucky whispered like he was ashamed, more so than not he was probably hoping the neighbours wouldn't hear. Steve doubted they could even hear the slaps, they were deaf as hell and Steve was suddenly pleased with their living arrangements.
“I'm going to take down your underwear now. And I'm going to paint your hide red.” Steve whispered boldly, leaning down to speak directly into Bucky's hearing, who moaned at the hot spurts of breath against the shell of his ear.
“Do it.” Bucky gasped as cool bony fingers wrapped around the waistband of his shorts. Steve's face was close to his, the liquor on Bucky's breath able to be tasted as Steve let his eyes flit from a pouting mouth back to dark eyes. “Daddy.” Bucky whispered daringly. Steve breathed in through flared nostrils, leaking against his Sunday best pants. He'd have to find the money to have them cleaned. He didn't care, he yanked down Bucky's underwear in one swift movement, hard dick springing free.
It was purple at the tip from the neglect it had suffered, pre-come glistening on the head. Steve had seen his prick before, hard not to after sharing a room for most of their lives. But he had never seen it like this before, never hard. And never hard because of him. That thought sent a thrill of a shiver down Steve's spine.
“You going to be a good little boy, now? You going to stop looking at dames you can't have?”
“Yes Daddy.” Bucky choked on the last word as Steve sent another hard blow across the curve of his ass.
“Yes daddy, what?” Steve asked, squeezing the flesh in his hand. It molded beneath his touch, soft and malleable and he enjoyed the groan that he elicited from Bucky as he kneaded the no doubt burning skin in his hand.
“No more looking at dames.” Bucky confirmed through gritted teeth and leather.
“You enjoy being treated like a dame?” Steve couldn't help the flush that colored his cheekbones. He was thankful Bucky was leaning over the couch unable to see him so that their whole literal charade wouldn't burst and Steve would have to withstand Bucky's laughter at how Steve couldn't keep it together. He didn't know what Bucky wanted to hear. He wanted to call Steve daddy but was that the extent of it?
“Yes daddy. Daddy's good little girl.” Oh. That wasn't expected but Steve growled out, unable to resist from nudging the curve of Bucky's ass with his hard cock. Bucky gasped, pushing back against Steve's clothed erection. Steve's self-control was diminishing like the candles beside the window. He licked a bead of sweat away from his top lip, focusing once again on Bucky and the situation they had managed to carve their way into.
“You're such a good little girl. Going to make you look real pretty one day darlin'” Steve began, voice hoarse as he rolled his hips forwards, once and then twice against Bucky's ass who bit down even harder onto his leather belt, gasps muffled. “Going to buy you a nice silk brassiere and a matching girdle. Gonna put some heels on you and have you bend over like this for me.” Steve didn't even realize how he had slowly began to un-do his pants, fumbling with his belt. Bucky tensed for a moment, a sob choking out over the leather in his mouth. He spat it out onto the side of the couch.
“God damn it Steve, you're gonna have to fuck me or marry me. I'm too far gone for anythin' else!” Bucky commanded, turning to look at Steve who swallowed thickly. He pushed his pants and underwear down, prick springing free. He was a lot smaller than Bucky, it was to be expected really. He was after all half the size of the guy, but still he knew it would probably hurt Bucky all the same.
Steve offered Bucky his hand who eyed it in confusion from his position still bent over the couch.
“Spit in my hand, Buck.” He said so coolly that Bucky couldn't stop the shiver that racked his whole body. Bucky stared into the depths of Steve's eyes leaning forwards and spitting loudly into a small palm. Steve inclined his head in thanks before taking hold of his prick. He groaned at the wetness that coated his cock as he pumped up once and then twice, trying not to get too carried away as Bucky remained patient and waiting.
“Never done this-” Steve didn't know why he was saying what he was saying. He knew Bucky was completely aware of his virginity, knew that he'd have been the first to find out if Steve had gotten with some dame. Bucky knew everything about Steve.
“Me either.” And Steve swallowed the bile of jealously that threatened to rise if Bucky hadn't given him that answer. With that in mind he lined himself up with Bucky who shook his head, Steve's head snapping up in mild panic.
“Gotta put something wet on me, it'll hurt less.” He said, voice lacking of it's usual confidence. Either way Steve nodded, bringing a finger to his mouth and spitting on the pad of it.
He swallowed, nervously lowering his wet finger to the curve of Bucky's ass. The older boy bought two hands to the back of him, holding his cheeks apart and Steve gasped at the sight of him. He had never seen anything so intimate on anyone before, and the fact that it made his dick twitch only confirmed that it was something he truly wanted.
He ghosted his finger around the rim of Bucky's entrance. It quivered under the touch, muscle moving noticeably as Steve dared push his fingertip through the restrictive opening. Bucky seized up, hips rocking upwards in a cry for attention. Steve focused on his finger letting it slide in further and further until it was up to the knuckle.
“Fuck Stevie, do it please” Bucky whined and Steve pulled out his finger, already absorbed in the idea of that same tight heat consuming his throbbing cock.
Once again he lined himself up with Bucky's entrance, the older man still holding apart his cheeks as best as he could to help Steve.
“Wait!” Bucky spoke, letting his hands fall from his ass and grappling for the belt again. He put it in his mouth, taking either side and handing them back to Steve. Steve held them both in one hand, frowning at the idea of treating Bucky like a horse.
“Ready?” Steve asked and a nod of the head followed by a needy grunt pretty much did it in terms of affirmation. Steve pushed into his best friend, gripping at the leather belt just a little tighter. It bought Bucky's head back in force, who sobbed against the feeling, fingers digging into the worn material of the couch.
“Is that- god damn it- ok?” Steve asked, pushed balls deep into the tight heat. All he needed was a nod of the head, a green light and he'd be gone, pulled into a vortex of desire that he hadn't realized had been building up since the day he first saw Bucky fucking Barnes.
“Fuck me 'til I can't walk straight.” That was as good a green light as any. Steve pulled out only slightly, allowing Bucky to adjust to him before slamming back home. He growled out at the feeling, more intense than any jerk off could feel. More real than any fantasy could ever be dreamed. It took a few more thrusts to set up a rhythm, but soon enough they adjusted to the feel of one another, Bucky pushing back every time Steve pushed in and soon enough the smaller man was fucking him relentlessly. His little hips speeding up with every groan that could be heard around the cracking leather of Bucky's only belt. Steve wrapped the material tighter around his white knuckles, chest thudding dully every time Bucky's muscles clenched around his achingly hard prick.
“Gonna buy you some fancy lipstick darlin'. Make you up real nice” Steve breathed out, words punctuated by the sound of flesh meeting flesh in the now dark room. He hadn't realized the candles had gone out, eyes adjusting to the sight of Bucky bent over the couch like a whore, moonlight stretching over his muscled back in strands of blues and greys.
“Yeah daddy, gonna be your pretty girl.” Steve didn't know why Bucky would want to call himself a girl. Why he would want to be called pretty and spoken to like Steve was his father. But a part of Steve, an illogical irrational part of Steve reveled in it. Got caught up in the adoration in Bucky's words, the attraction far too strong to resist. He was finally being the dominant person. Finally being able to manhandle someone without them laughing in his face. No, Bucky and Steve as they fucked against one another in the darkness of their shared apartment, were perfect for one another.
“Keep talkin' to me Stevie. I'm gonna bust my nut.” Bucky spat out the belt as he spoke heatedly. He hadn't even touched his dick yet and Steve couldn't help the heat that crawled up from the pit of his stomach at the realization.
“You're such a pretty girl. Got such a big dick baby, Daddy wants to suck it. Like he's seen men in alleyways do. The one's who think no one can see them. I want to suck your prick, Buck. Your pretty, pretty cock.”
“Daddy- fuck- harder.” Steve grabbed Bucky's hips, bony fingers holding onto soft flesh and hard muscle bringing him closer and closer. Suddenly Bucky flinched forwards more, a sudden cry emitting from his mouth. He bit down on the back of his hand, practically sobbing into it as Steve heard muffled words like a mantra.
There. Yeah there. Right there.
And then Bucky's shouts became a final cry of desperation, seeping into the skin on the back of his hand as he gasped and begged for breath. Seeing Bucky so royally fucked, so debauched was too much for Steve and soon enough he felt himself empty inside his best friend.
They remained frozen for a few moments, Steve all but pulling out of Bucky and collapsing into a sitting position on the floor. With one hand on his chest he focused on breathing, bringing himself back to reality and focusing on not having a god damn asthma attack after finally having popped his cherry.
Good Lord. He tried not too think to hard, as the silence in the room stretched on for what felt like days, Bucky's body hunched over in the moonlight that spilled in like water from a crack in a dam.
“Buck-” Steve tested. He was cut off by Bucky raising a hand at him, silencing any further words. The older man simply stepped out of the underwear pooled around his ankles, walking around from his position towards the arm chair by the window. His bones cracked every step of the way and Steve hated how that noise reminded him so much of himself. He took a seat, fingers ghosting over the book Steve had left open on the windowsill before he had gone to find Bucky in the bar.
“I'm sorry Stevie. That. That what we did, was not right.” Bucky hung his head low, shoulder blades flexing as he sat ashamed in the shadows. Steve pushed himself up from the floor, heart hammering like he was still a breath away from coming apart. In some senses he was, the fear the caught him in a stranglehold spoke of Bucky's regret and disgust and it made Steve want to cry and hit something simultaneously.
“God damn it Bucky. I don't know much but I know that wasn't wrong.”
“Oh really. There's a reason I had to bite down on my god damn hand.” Bucky snapped quietly, holding up his hand in the light from the window. Steve could see teeth marks purpiling against the surface before Bucky threaded his fingers through his hair once more.
“No one has to know.” Steve began to walk over, only stopping when Bucky's defeated laughter rendered him frozen in embarrassment.
“So what you were just gonna buy all this fancy lingerie and tell the workers at the store they were for some dame of yours?”
“Is it so hard to believe that a guy like me could get a dame?”
“God damn it Steve, that is not what I meant!” Bucky cried out, tears shimmering in his eyes and Steve felt a rope around his heart knot tighter and the sight.
“Then what is your problem Buck, it's not like I was the one bent over the couch begging to be wailed on!”
“Exactly! Exactly Stevie! I'm a fucking punk all right? I'm a big ole' fucking fruit and I've never felt as good as when you had your prick inside me!” He all but shouted and Steve looked around wildly.
“Keep your voice down, jerk!”
“See! This is what I'm living with! This-” He gestured towards his chest, sobs racking through his words “fucking feeling inside! Knowing that I'm queer as hell and not being able to do nothing about it.” It was painful to hear, to know that Bucky had probably been dealing with this for so long all alone. Without even thinking to talk to Steve about it. The blonde man stepped ever closer, Bucky's hushed cries paining him every step of the way.
“Who you been keen on to know you were a queer, Buck?” Steve knelt down beside him, one hand resting on Bucky's bare knee. The older man didn't flinch, which was as victorious as anything in Steve's eyes.
“Do I really have to answer that?” He let out a soft laugh looking down at Steve who couldn't help but reach up and wipe away a falling tear. Bucky leaned into the touch and answered Steve's question with that alone.
“I wanna know how long my buddy has been feeling like this, so yeah.” Steve spoke softly, hand resting on Bucky's cheek who looked up at him through dark eyelashes.
“Always you Stevie. Darn it, I'm keen on you kiddo.”
“You're not so bad yourself.” They exchanged a short-lived giggle, that diminished into silence as they simply watched one another.
“You really mean that?” Bucky asked, brow risen.
“I wouldn't say it otherwise”
“What are we gonna do kid?” His words sounded hopeful and that was enough to make Steve smile.
“Oh so it's kid now?” He joked, laughing as Bucky swatted his skinny arm playfully.
“Shut up dummy or I'll kiss the dumb right out of you.” He bumped their shoulders together then and Steve couldn't help but stare at his friend.
“I've never wanted to keep talking so bad in all my life, if that's what you're offering.” His words were timid, fearful of rejection and Bucky stared right at him, clearly taken aback by his words.
“Stevie. If we do this now, it's gonna change everything.”
“I think everything's already changed, Buck. And that's ok.” Steve leaned forwards, closing the distance between them and capturing any objections of Bucky's clean out of his mouth. Their lips pressed together, Bucky's hand resting gently under Steve's chin who worked open Bucky's resisting mouth with a determined tongue. It took less than a minute for the brunet to give in, hands falling to frame Steve's face who crawled onto his friend's lap from the floor, knees bracketing his hips in the armchair that groaned under their collective weight.
Bucky pulled away with a soft pop, forehead resting against Steve's.
“Never had you pinned for a fruit, kiddo.”
“I'll be whatever you want.”
“Mine.” Bucky said and as though in confirmation ducked in for another kiss that Steve met with equal enthusiasm.