Archive of Our Own ^beta

Steve was pretty certain that by now everyone at SHIELD was aware of two facts. One, that Agent Barnes fairly regularly wore women’s lingerie. And two, that this basically turned Captain Rogers’ brain to warm jelly.

The reason that everyone knew was that Bucky was a damn tease, and didn’t care to be particularly subtle about it. Especially on days when Steve had to leave earlier than Bucky, he’d pick the most provocative underwear he had and make sure Steve got glimpses of it all day.

Such as right now, when they were both stuck in an excruciatingly dull briefing on weapons requisitioning. Bucky stretched, leaning back with both hands clasped behind him, the movement pulling up his t-shirt just enough for a flash of red to be visible.

Steve’s mouth went dry. Bucky was wearing the red satin basque—almost certainly with the matching panties. And given that it wasn’t too warm today, there was a reasonable chance that he was wearing stockings as well. Steve found himself trying to make out the lines of it under Bucky’s t-shirt.

“Captain Rogers? Do I have your full attention?”

Steve smiled guilelessly. “Yes, ma’am. You were just saying that we have to remember to always fill in the section stating why we need to requisition the weapon.”

The agent leading the session looked nonplussed, evidently having expected to catch him out. Steve mentally thanked whichever part of the serum enhanced multi-tasking abilities. He hadn’t been listening at all, but there was enough going into his brain to get him out of trouble. Bucky smirked at him, stretched his legs out, just ‘happening’ to slightly pull up one pants leg as he did so. Enough to, say, make it clear that he was wearing stockings.

Steve had worked out that it was the extremes of masculinity and femininity in clothes that did... things to him. His reaction the first time he’d seen Bucky in panties had been exactly the same as the first time he’d seen Bucky in his army uniform. Oh, just remembering that uniform did something to him. Bucky had had a few days of leave after Basic, and when he walked through the door of their apartment, looking smart with his cap cocked just so, Steve’s jaw had almost hit the floor.

Bucky had caught his expression, smiled, twirled, and said, “You like a man in uniform, huh?”

Steve had made some incoherent noises as Bucky had stalked over to him.

“Y’know, I think I kinda wanna be out of the uniform—”

Steve had managed to get it together enough to croak, “Leave it on.”

Bucky had been more than obliging, fucking him senseless against the kitchen counter without even taking his hat off.

It was a pity that he hadn’t worked out the other part back then. There was no way these days that Bucky would ever put on an army uniform, especially not that one—which meant that his favorite fantasy was never going to happen. It had Bucky in that uniform, all sharp masculine lines, and Steve would strip him out of it, slowly. Jacket first, then tie, then shirt, and under the shirt he’d find a black silk basque (sometimes it was a loosely cinched corset, but always black silk). Then he’d unbutton Bucky’s uniform pants, push his pants down, see the garter belt and black silk panties that were being strained by Bucky’s erection, push the pants further down to see the stockings. And because it was a fantasy, he didn’t feel bad at all about leaving the suspenders in place and instead ripping the panties—

“—correct form, Captain Rogers?”

“I presume you’re talking about forms 15a and 15b?”

The agent narrowed her eyes at him. Steve again thanked the part of his brain that had been listening while his lizard brain was otherwise occupied. If this was genuinely important, it would have had his full attention, however distracting Bucky was being (though Bucky was responsible enough to not be distracting when something was seriously important, they had some differences of opinion as to where the line of importance was drawn). It wasn’t; they could easily have been told this over email, and he wasn’t going to feel bad about not concentrating.

As the agent turned away, Bucky looked at Steve, then looked at Steve’s crotch, looked back at him, and raised an eyebrow. Yes, fine, he had an erection in a meeting, but the desk should be hiding that from anyone who wasn’t as close to him as Bucky. He looked at the clock. Fifteen minutes until the end of the meeting, which meant that he should probably start thinking of things that would mean he could walk out with his dignity still intact. Or to be more accurate, the shreds of dignity he’d managed to preserve in the face of Bucky’s best efforts still intact. He went to his current default, which was the question that kept coming up every time SHIELD made him do an online question and answer - what were the combat logistics of fighting one horse-sized duck versus a hundred duck-sized horses?

It worked, and he was thinking of whether a horse-sized mallard could kick the way an emu could, when Bucky scratched his side, which just happened to pull his t-shirt up again to show another flash of red.

It was going to be a very long day.

Or it would have been, if Bucky hadn’t gotten bored just after lunch. They were walking down a corridor when without warning Bucky pushed him into Conference Room 9, a room seldom used anymore, as due to an incident several years previously, it always smelled faintly of soy sauce. He could not get anyone at SHIELD to elaborate on this and no official records existed of the incident, but since Bucky had adopted the room as his default place to jump Steve at work, he was really hoping there wasn’t anything more to it than the strange smell.

Bucky locked the door and pounced on Steve, in between kissing and half ripping him out of his clothes, reassuring him that his security camera override that meant that he was 100% sure that no one was watching them.

Steve put those odds closer to 50/50, but he had his hands under Bucky’s t-shirt, feeling the warmed satin containing Bucky’s muscles, and he couldn’t really bring himself to care. He pulled Bucky’s t-shirt off, and that sight never failed to take his breath away.

“You gonna just look?”

“Nfh.”

Bucky was shimmying out of his pants and grinned as he said, “Yeah, pretty sure I’m doing it right if you can’t speak.”

Oh, Bucky was wearing the matching panties and sheer black thigh-high stockings, and he looked so good it should be illegal. Steve just looked for a moment before stepping forward, running his hands down Bucky’s sides. He sucked along Bucky’s collarbone and mouthed at the straps of the basque as he walked Bucky backwards to the conference table. Once he was backed against the table Bucky spread his legs, and Steve had his hands cupped around Bucky’s ass, feeling the satin and muscle as he licked and sucked across the skin and fabric over Bucky’s chest.

Bucky pressed packet of lube into his hand and said, “I got a meeting at one thirty, so get to it, Captain.”

He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of Bucky’s panties and pushed them down, releasing Bucky’s erection. He was never, ever going to get tired of the way Bucky squirmed and pushed back against his fingers, or the low noises he made in the back of his throat as Steve screwed him, like each ripple of pleasure he got as he thrust in was matched by a growl and moan from Bucky. Steve was gripping Bucky’s thighs, the feel of stockings over taut, tense muscle yet another turn-on. But they were on a schedule, however much Steve wanted to make this last, so he wrapped his lube-slick hand around Bucky’s dick and concentrated on bringing him off. It didn’t take long before Bucky was gasping and coming, splattering across the basque, and that glorious sight was enough to push Steve over the edge.

Steve looked down as he pulled out and realised he’d ripped yet another pair of stockings to shreds.

Bucky followed his gaze. “Good job we get paid enough for you to keep me in nylons.”

If Steve had more than one brain cell firing at that point, he would have tried for some sort of comeback involving how much he liked keeping Bucky in nylons, but instead he started rolling down the stockings, kissing along Bucky’s legs as he stripped them off; Bucky made little noises of appreciation.

Steve stood up, pulled his trousers back up, wiped his hands on the ruined stockings, knotted them neatly, and threw them in the trash. He knew Bucky would have spare socks in his locker. (And what did it say about them that Bucky kept spares at work just for this occurrence?)

Bucky looked at the state of the basque, considered it for a moment, then took it off. Only Bucky could look that naturally at ease lounging completely naked on a SHIELD conference table.

“You’re going to just carry that out of here?”

“Yep.” Bucky grinned. “Clean side out—you have a reputation to uphold.”

“I try not to think about what my reputation is around SHIELD these days.”

Bucky snickered.

Then their communicators activated. Monsters downtown, Avengers assemble.

Bucky pulled his pants on without bothering with the panties, and they both ran to get changed. As soon as Steve was in his uniform, Bucky popped one of the unused pouches and slid his panties into it.

“No idea why they give you so many of these things.”

Steve had no doubt that Bucky intended to take the panties out of the pouch at the most embarrassing moment possible. He considered for a moment taking them out, but if he was honest he cherished every little thing that showed Bucky had regained his sense of fun. And it wouldn’t be anything that SHIELD hadn’t seen before. Unfortunately.

The monsters were enormous, genetically modified cows, which didn’t sound that intimidating in the briefing, but they were formidable in the flesh. Bullets barely scratched them, and Tony could only take one out with a lot of firepower. While the Hulk successfully wrestled one to the ground by the horns and Thor was off to find something he could use as a bridle, “for I believe I can tame these beasts,” Steve regrouped the rest of the Avengers.

“These are a diversion, and we need to find out what they’re diverting us from—”

That was the point they were hit with some sort of knockout beam, rather proving his point about the diversion. Steve woke up, arms chained behind him and attached to a wall, with Clint, Natasha, Bucky and Tony lined up in the same position either side of him. Tony was out of his suit, and there was a reinforced crate in the corner which was rattling in a way suggesting that parts of the Iron Man armor were trying to get out of it.

Their captor arrived for his obligatory ‘gloat over the prisoners’. Steve was starting to think that there was some book or training course that they got their speeches from, because they all basically sounded the same. The guy was a scientist, a von Doom wannabe. ‘Dr. Destruction’ wasn’t even a very good name.

When he’d done gloating, Destruction said, “Check them for any more weapons, especially anything interesting SHIELD may be providing them with.”

Amateurs, then. They should have been checked for weapons while they were unconscious.

Some goons came forward, patted each of them down, went through their pouches. The goon searching him did a definite double-take when he came to the panties.

“Well? Anything of interest?”

“Errr...Captain America had these.” The goon held the panties between thumb and forefinger as if they might explode.

Steve kept a straight face. This was serious, after all, but the panties might be a useful distraction. Bucky, Clint, and Natasha were, as-expected, stony-faced.

Tony, on the other hand, was snickering.

Dr. Destruction looked taken aback. “Really? I thought the good Captain was single.”

This sent Tony into new paroxysms of laughter.

Dr. Destruction pointed at him. “You! Tell me who these belong to!”

Tony recovered a little. “Nope. One, watching you guess is going to be hilarious, and two, you don’t get on the bad side of the owner of those.”

“Ah, a dangerous woman. The Widow!”

The goon holding the panties said, “Boss, I think they’re a little big for her.”

Dr. Destruction looked between the panties and Natasha. “Hold them up to her.”

“Boss, I really don’t—”

“Do it!”

The goon, with the expression of a minion who really wasn’t being paid enough to do this, walked over to Natasha. In the face of her death-glare he held the panties up against her hips; it was immediately obvious they were too big for her.

“Not the Widow’s, then.”

The goon who was crouched holding up the panties said, “Can I... can I stop doing this now, boss? Please?” He was visibly withering with every second that Natasha held him in her glare.

“Yes, yes. But I will know who these belong to! To know will allow me power over Captain America. Power. Power!” He laughed maniacally, then got back in control of himself. “You! Bring me a list of Captain America’s known female associates, along with pictures.”

Tony grinned. “You’re going to list SHIELD agents who you think have a bigger ass than Widow? Can I get this on camera?”

“I’m glad I am amusing you, Stark—”

“Great, it’s nice to have a villain with priorities. If you could provide drinks with the entertainment, that would just round it all off.”

“You will suffer for your insolence!”

“You’ll have to join the queue behind Fury for that.”

A goon appeared with a tablet. “List with pictures, boss. Not easy to get booty shots, boss, mostly head and shoulders.”

“How am I supposed to tell the size of their asses from their heads?”

“I’m still looking, boss, but I think some of these are from porno lookalikes.”

Though Bucky hadn’t reacted at all, Steve knew him well enough to know that “find all of Steve’s porn lookalikes” was going to be his new objective in life. Tony also had a calculating expression (given Tony, he was probably thinking about his own porn lookalikes), and Steve had a very bad feeling about the next Avengers movie night.

“Hmm, this Agent Hill seems a likely candidate. What do you say, Captain? Are those hers?”

Tony said, “Please, I’m sure that Agent Hill wears sensible underwear for work, thongs for the weekend.”

Steve looked at Tony, “You’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“Oh, do not try and get the moral high ground on this one. You do know that security camera workaround stopped working three months ago, right?”

Steve thought that he managed to suppress most of his blush. Bucky just looked bored, and Steve wished he was as good at dissembling as he was.

“You didn’t, did you? Ha, Pepper was wrong. She said you knew and didn’t care. But you can relax, Fury wiped the greatest hits video that was going around SHIELD. Wouldn’t put it past Coulson to still have a copy though, you know, if you want one.”

Steve was aware that the goons and Dr. Destruction were looking at him open-mouthed. Yeah, Captain America was not supposed to have a sex life, and he definitely wasn’t supposed to have a sex tape, let alone one recorded at work.

“Tony, can we not have this conversation in front of the villain?”

“I am not a villain! I am—”

Tony ignored this. “Why not? It’s not like anyone’s going to believe them. I’m thinking of telling them who those belong to. Blow their minds—”

“No.”

“It would be worth it for their expressions. Pity there’s nothing to record it on.”

Dr. Destruction yelled, “You are my prisoners! You will be silent!”

Steve looked at Tony. “Just no, okay? There are very good security reasons that information isn’t common knowledge, and I’m not compromising that just for your amusement.”

“I’d say you were boring, but I’ve seen the tape. You have hidden talents.”

Destruction had gone an interesting shade of puce. “I said silence! Silence, prisoners!”

“When did it become acceptable to watch your friends having sex without their permission?”

“I took the lax security precautions as being implied permission.”

Destruction was trying and failing to get a word in edgewise and looked like he was on the brink of losing it, which was good, as he was liable to make some mistake that they could use to get free. Not that Steve was faking his argument with Tony. He wouldn’t watch a video of any of his friends having sex, but then again ‘Tony Stark’ and ‘boundaries’ were concepts which rarely occurred together.

“That is nothing like permission.”

Tony shrugged, “Hey, everyone who’s seen it has good things to say about it. Technique, staying power, consideration for your partner, I mean, it’s almost a sales reel for fucking Captain America.”

“It’s still an invasion of privacy—”

“No, no, no, people who don’t want their privacy invaded do not have sex at work.”

Steve blushed, more deeply this time. He didn’t have a good comeback for that, but he would do his best. “It was only ever at lunch or coffee breaks.”

“I’m sure the Senate Accounts Committee will be proud of you for not fucking on the clock. A true American value being upheld there. But you put in enough unpaid overtime anyway that I think you could argue it for flex-time even if you didn’t. You should check with HR.”

Then the wall exploded as the Hulk crashed through it. Dr. Destruction screamed and passed out. The goons surrendered immediately en masse, all of them claiming that they had been told it was a graduate training programme, and the evil had only been mentioned at the point that Dr. Destruction was holding a military laser pointed at their crotch.

A group of SHIELD agents who had been following the Hulk released them and took Destruction and his goons back to SHIELD, as Bruce returned to his normal size and color. They got their comms back to find that, apparently, Thor had managed to put a bridle one of the mutant cows, ride it, and was rounding the rest of them up like a cowboy.

Bucky was kicking around in the debris and said, “Right, so who knew about the tape?”

Tony and Natasha put their hands up immediately, followed with slightly more hesitation by Clint and Bruce.

“And keep your hand up if you’ve watched it.”

They all kept your hands up.

Natasha said, “Thirty seconds, accidentally. Tony sent us all the link to the video without saying what it was.”

Clint said, “More like twenty seconds. He set it to auto-play. Sorry.”

Bruce said, “Same here. Sorry as well. If it’s any consolation, I don’t think Thor has seen it. He’s not good with links in emails.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Oh, as long as Thor hasn’t watched me having sex that’s all a-ok then. Jesus, I’m surrounded by perverts.”

“Says the guy with a fetish for lingerie and being fucked at work.”

Bucky waved a finger at Tony. “Nu-uh, not how it works. You do not get to shame me for my awesome consensual sexual choices, I do get to shame you for non-consensual voyeurism.”

“It wasn’t voyeurism! It was non-sexual curiosity.”

Steve said, “How long ago was this anyway?”

“A month ago,” said Natasha, who then glared at Tony. “And we agreed that it was for the best if we just wiped the footage, stopped anyone making a new one, and never mentioned it. Because it would be really awkward. Tony.”

“It just slipped out!”

This was one of the nice things about being in a team. Natasha’s death glare was enough for Steve to know that he wouldn’t have to think up a way of making Tony’s life miserable. Natasha had his (and Bucky’s) back on this one.

Bucky’s kicking around in the debris uncovered a flash of red. He picked the panties up, delicately shook them out, and put them back in Steve’s pouch.

Tony looked at the pair of them, “Now, I really do want to know about that.”

Steve shrugged. “I have no idea what’s going on in his head half the time.”

Bucky grinned his most lascivious grin. “I have plans.”

Tony said, “No, see, that doesn’t work; we’ve all seen that he tries to get you out of your clothes, not into them.”

Clint suddenly looked up, inspired. “A pun. You were going to pull the sleaziest debriefing pun the world has ever seen.”

Bucky looked disappointed. “Not now I ain’t. It’s not going to work if you know it’s coming.”

Bucky spent the entirety of the debriefing with his fingers playing towards the pouch containing the panties, but without actually opening it. Steve managed not to flinch each time he did it, but Bruce and Clint kept grinning and Tony was openly snickering.

Fury said, “Do I get the impression you are not taking this seriously?”

Tony said, “Oh, come on, Dr. Destruction? I refuse to take him seriously. You need to tighten up who can get their hands on genetically modified monster cows, that’s all. Are we done? I think we’re done.”

Steve walked out thinking that he’d dodged some serious Bucky-related embarrassment, at least for that day. Right up to the point that, walking down the corridor, he realized that someone had changed the sign on Conference Room 9’s door to read ‘The JB Barnes Conjugal Visit Suite’.