Steve tapped his fingers on the desk and waited for the connection to go through. He’d never been a huge fan of Skype meetings, mainly as he didn’t like seeing himself on screen, but the fact Sam was based in DC while he was in Brooklyn meant for quick progress catch ups, it made sense.
His successful graphic design studio was going from strength to strength, and he employed people from all over the world who had different ideas and ways of working, which made his business unique and also very lucrative, something he hadn’t banked on when he’d started it three years earlier. He also prided himself on being an employer of choice; he paid well, gave creative license and also credit where it was due. It wasn’t bad for a scrawny kid who wasn’t supposed to live to see the age fifteen. But Steve Rogers was the most stubborn person and even death backed off hastily when it came knocking.
Steve though wasn’t in peak physical condition, but now he was pushing thirty he’d controlled his asthma, his heart condition was stable with regular medications and check ups and he worked out at the gym most days. He was still small, but built tough. Natasha, his personal trainer and now one of his closest friends, laughed each time she tried to push him over and he dug his heels in, becoming an immovable force. He was almost affronted at how surprised she was, considering she’d trained him.
The camera finally came alive as Sam clicked on, looking slightly disheveled and Steve hid a smirk. He’d clearly just woken up. Sam had been working with Steve from the beginning, having met at college, and Steve had lost count of the times he’d asked Sam to move to New York. But Sam was a volunteer at the local VA and said it wouldn’t be fair to move as he was helping out people who really needed it. Steve liked that most about him - his integrity.
Sam groaned and ran a hand over his face, tiredly, “like you wouldn’t believe. I am not drinking again.”
Steve grinned, “I’ve only heard that about thirty times this year from you. I like your conviction, the way you stick to your guns.”
A soft chuckle came from off camera and Steve straightened up, not realising that Sam had company. Did Sam have a visitor, a one night stand maybe?
“Coffee?” a deep voice rumbled from the side and Sam looked over at the person gratefully and nodded.
Steve picked up his own cup and took a large sip, unable to stop wondering who Sam had brought home. He and Riley were on a break, had been for about a month and Steve was surprised as Sam had been adamant that he'd win him back, had a ring stashed away and everything. So why did he have another man in his apartment?
It was by sheer willpower and a lifetime of schooling his features against bullies and people who underestimated him at every turn that Steve didn’t inhale his coffee and spit it out over the screen when the ‘guest’ appeared behind Sam. The camera was set up as usual facing the kitchen, and Steve’s eyes zeroed in on a man so damn beautiful it physically punched him in the solar plexus. He’d not seen anyone in his entire life that was as immediately charismatic as the person who wandered out behind Sam to make coffee.
He flicked his eyes back to Sam who was smiling at him like the cat who’d caught the canary, and Steve knew why. If he’d had that magestical man in his bed the night before, he’d have called in sick to stay there - for the rest of his life.
As Sam started going through the latest costings for the Stark Industries revamp, Steve’s eyes kept sliding to the side, glad Sam was looking down going through figures and would miss Steve's gaping.
The man was tall, though most people were taller than Steve if he were honest, and built solid. His dark hair was pulled back into a messy bun and Steve’s fingers twitched with the desire to run them through the soft looking strands. The cut of his chin and nose and - well, just everything was gorgeous, he was absolutely flawless. Then Steve saw a flash of silver on his left arm and realised two seconds later that he wore a prosthetic, yet it only enhanced his looks, not detracted. Apart from wondering what had happened, he was oddly drawn to the lines, the craftsmanship of the design, it appeared to be fully functional if the dexterity in his fingers as he grabbed the coffee jar was any indication.
Unfortunately (or fortunately) he wore a threadbare t-shirt which covered his wide chest and a pair of sweats hung low on his hips. The man must be wearing Sam’s clothing. Steve refused to believe such an amazing specimen would have been out at night wearing such casual, and to be honest, adorably soft looking things. Though even if he was, he still would have been the most striking person in the room.
“So, although Tony is as picky and annoying as anyone I’ve ever met, I think he will like the colours.” Sam stated and Steve snapped his eyes away from the man bathed in light making his morning coffee.
“Yep,” Steve managed unintelligently.
“You okay, man?”
Coughing, Steve nodded, “Yeah, fine - just been a busy morning, s’all.”
“Natasha pinned you to the floor again?”
At that, the man finally looked towards the computer and although he was a distance away, Steve could tell his eyes were a deep blue, the type of blue poets would have written sonnets about, and Steve once more felt his fingers itch but this time with the need to paint him, to try and capture the exact shade of blue. He was damn well staring like a freaking numpty.
“Excuse you , Sam. She has yet to pin me, just because she downed you in three seconds last time you sparred with her, doesn’t mean I’m defenceless. I know how to hold my own.”
The delectable man reached up to get coffee mugs and Steve saw a smile playing on his lips. Did he find Steve amusing? Though he was Sam’s conquest, not Steve’s, and he really shouldn’t be looking as intently as he’d been. It was probably creepy, but people couldn’t just go around looking like that and not be stared at.
“Why do you always bring that up? It was once.”
“Twice,” Steve countered and heard a small chuckle from the kitchen and, shit. He looked over to see the man's t-shirt riding high, exposing muscled abdominals as the sweatpants sunk dangerously low, framing the bulge underneath that Steve couldn’t tear his eyes away from. He was going to hell, stop staring!
Then it happened.
Steve finally dragged his eyes up to see blue one's twinkling back at him and a smirk so downright sexy it made him half hard in seconds. He’d been caught out ogling and he was going to jump out the window in mortification. Steve had been staring directly at the guy’s junk, and although the camera was a little way away, he knew Sam had it set up so Steve's face would be covering one screen as he worked off the second one. Therefore it would have been completely obvious he’d been staring. He moved his eyes away, it wasn't easy.
Sam started to speak about a few minor changes Pepper had asked for and Steve noticed in his peripheral, that the man had stopped making coffee and was now staring directly at him. Steve couldn't help but flick his eyes back that way. The expression on tall, built and hot as he leant his hip against the kitchen counter, inscrutable.
Steve tried not to think about how boring he must look with a blue checked shirt and freshly washed hair softly curling away from his side part. He wished he’d taken some more care. Then on the heels of that thought he realised he should not be lusting so hard after his friends one-night stand. Who suspiciously looked like he knew his way around Sam’s kitchen - two-night stand?
Regardless of who he was, he’d been caught staring. So for the rest of the Skype call he honed in on Sam, worked out some kinks in the designs and only looked over briefly when the man placed a coffee at Sam’s elbow and he got to see those beautiful blue eyes up close.
Jesus Christ - why did men like that not exist in Brooklyn?
The man's name was Bucky, which Steve found out on his next Skype call with Sam, he also learned that Bucky was crashing there as well. Steve had no idea whether that meant in Sam's bed or on the couch, and Steve really wanted to know, but also didn't want to ask. It wasn't any of his business after all.
But Bucky was always there in some capacity, even if it was just a baseball cap left on the counter, two mugs in the sink instead of one or a jumper thrown over a chair - all hallmarks that another body lived in Sam's space. He was unintentionally envious.
Steve's favourite Skype calls were in the early morning, chatting to Sam and occasionally seeing Bucky appear, as if in a rush to appear on camera to make breakfast or a coffee. He was burning with curiosity on what Bucky’s story was, but in the meantime as he had no reason to ask questions about Sam’s houseguest, Steve basked in the wonderful view. Steve also always ensured he was wearing something flattering and that his hair was done properly, earning a teasing line from Sam about scrubbing up for the new security guard at his building entrance. Steve ducked his head, deflecting the light words with a laugh and that he had lots of new clients he had to look professional for. The lie slid easily off his tongue.
Then about three weeks later as Steve not so creepily (no, not at all) watched Bucky potter around the kitchen, Sam piped up.
"Oh, hey man, just realised I've never introduced you properly. Buck, this here is the pain in my proverbial, or, my boss, Steve."
"Hey," Steve protested, but managed to somehow pull up a semi-professional expression to smile warmly at the wet-dream who'd stopped in his tracks to walk over and crouch by the computer so he was on screen properly and, whoa .
If Bucky was gorgeous from a distance of a few metres, then he was like the sun close up. Steve almost squinted and let out a long breath of longing as those blue intense eyes met his. The smile which broke out on Bucky's face, made Steve want to do anything in his power to keep it there - this man was damn stunning and Steve still hadn't said anything. He felt his face heat up.
“Hi Bucky, nice to sort of meet you.”
“Hey Stevie, likewise.” Bucky’s voice was a religious experience, as was the nickname he’d given Steve. Usually he hated being called Stevie, making him feel small and young. But rumbling from Bucky’s throat, it just made him want to ask Sam to step outside so he could have some very hot online sex. And why did Steve keep forgetting that this man belonged to Sam? Although as he watched the two interact for a moment, they didn’t seem to act like two men madly in love in the throes of their first few weeks of cohabitation. Maybe Steve had a chance, though he had a feeling Bucky wouldn’t look twice at him.
Steve didn’t have a bad self-opinion, he knew what he looked like and was happy with it, very, actually. It took him a long time to be comfortable in his skin and sometimes he wished he could go back to his younger self and explain that everything would be fine and that people (and more importantly boys), would find his slight frame and stubbornness attractive. But Bucky, he was something else. Steve had never been so viscerally drawn to a person, especially one he’d never even been in the same room as. He couldn’t be so lucky as to have Bucky not sleeping with Sam, and if not, him being gay then to have him be attracted to Steve. There were too many variables. But a man could dream, or in this case fantasise. A lot.
“Make sure you work this punk to the bone,” Bucky said, a cheeky grin on his face and Steve nodded, not sure why he was nodding, but it was that or gush about how adorable Bucky’s nose was when it crinkled. “He slacks off when you’re not riding him.”
“Sam’s not the one I want to ride,” Steve replied quickly and at the stunned look he was receiving from the two of them, Steve understood he’d actually said that out loud. “Shit, I’ve got to go - I’ll call later in the week.”
As Sam went to protest and laugh uncontrollably most likely, Steve’s gaze fell to Bucky just before he hit disconnect (then jump out of his window for real this time) to find his blue eyes riveted to Steve’s and he saw the sliver of a tongue escape Bucky’s mouth to half lick his lips and Steve was gone. The screen went black and he couldn’t deal with the hotness, the embarrassment or the thought of his impending jerk off session.
Steve was a chump. A horny, mortified chump.
The next few days were hectic, more so than Steve had been in the last year, and he was reduced to sending quick dot point emails through to Sam, having no time to Skype as he was in back to back meetings with Stark and his team (mainly his team). He was certainly not avoiding the calls in case he had to face Bucky again. He didn’t expect to miss seeing his face and smile as much as he did though. Sam also didn't mention him either; maybe he was angry that Steve had clearly been lusting after his boy. Or maybe it's because their emails were strictly work related and brokered no room for frivolities in the form of who was screwing who. Steve knew he might have to bring up how inappropriate he’d been.
But not today.
It was another two days when Steve finally managed to stop and catch his breath. Tony had actually liked their design ideas, even if he asked for a thousand small modifications, but overall they'd agreed and now Steve could move to production. Taking a long deep breath, he glanced at the clock, noticing it was after eight, but Sam was usually around, he’d take Steve’s call.
So Steve grabbed a glass of whiskey from his office stash, not worried about how he'd look as everyone else on the floor had already clocked out and left. Then set himself up for a celebratory pow-wow with Sam.
But when the call connected, it most decidedly was not Sam on the other end.
A sleepy and adorably rumpled Bucky had answered, and before Steve could hastily disconnect or apologise, Bucky looked up, face splitting in a huge grin. Steve’s heart hammered in his chest.
"Stevie, hey. I thought you were Becca,” he paused a second before hastily adding, “oh, she’s my sister - not, well you know. Anyway, it's great to see you."
Steve took time to properly formulate a reply, entranced at the soft welcoming smile on Bucky's face. "Hey Buck. Sam not in? If you're waiting for a call I can go."
"No!" Bucky exclaimed, the word almost shouted and Steve noticed the way he rubbed the back of his neck absently before catching Steve's wide gaze, was he embarrassed? "It's cool, Sam's… um, he's out, and Becca can wait, she's acting like a mother hen at the moment anyway, I'm trying to avoid her.” He smiled wryly, “looks like you're celebrating?"
Bucky gestured towards the screen and Steve held up his whiskey and took a sip, smiling as the thick liquid filled his throat. He didn't drink often, hardly at all, but when he did - he went top-shelf.
"Closed a big deal today, thought I'd share the triumph with someone."
Bucky watched him closely, something shifting behind his eyes that Steve couldn't pinpoint, it looked a little like longing, which was ludicrous.
"Don't you have anyone in the big smoke to go out with?"
Steve smiled, trying to not seem like the loser he was about to out himself as, "I have a few friends of course, all busy hibernating being a school night and all. Other than that, at work I have Sam - the rest of the team are brilliant, but I'm their boss so it’s hard to socialise and keep a professional distance."
"Oh, so there’s no-one else?” The question sharp.
Steve shook his head that he didn’t, feeling even more like a dork with no life. Bucky must think him socially inept, he was a little bit, but usually people found out later in the friendship, not in the first conversation.
“That’s great,” Bucky paused suddenly, and Steve frowned trying to make sense of his words, was Bucky being rude? “I mean, but you're Sam's boss too, though, right?"
Steve let it slide, not sure what to think, "well yeah, but I've known Sam forever, he doesn't count. Plus this way, I can't be egged on to do something stupidly embarrassing like doing body shots or the worm across a bar again. I swore to never repeat that night."
The sharp burst of laughter from Bucky sweet and gratifying, warming Steve down to his toes.
"The worm? Oh god, stay there, I'm getting a drink - we can celebrate together and then you can tell me that story."
Steve couldn’t help chuckle in response and nodded his head, "alright, it's not exciting but I'll tell ya."
The beaming grin Bucky gave him as he ran to the kitchen to get a beer flipped Steve's stomach sideways. He was so handsome, stomach clenchingly so. And Steve was in big trouble.
They spoke for two hours, about nothing and everything and when they signed off, Steve was more than halfway in love. And wasn’t that an interesting place to end up.
Bucky spoke with such a flirty undertone, teasing out information and stories that Steve never told anyone, making Bucky laugh in delight, and he seemed to get just as many anecdotes in return.
Bucky was somehow the most perfect person on the planet for Steve, he'd never connected in such a way before with anyone. And Bucky didn’t act like he was in a relationship with Sam, which worried Steve for two reasons; either he’d completely miscalculated what was going on, or Bucky was a natural flirt and Steve was reading so much more into their interactions than he should. He pushed aside the third option, he couldn’t see Bucky being a cheat. But the thought did linger unbidden. Steve had been caught up in a similar situation years before, with Brock, a douche canoe if ever one existed, proclaiming that he thought they had an understanding that Steve knew it was an open relationship.
Steve was not understanding and he did not know.
So against his better judgement, he Skyped Sam again after eight a few nights later, trying to ignore the text message Sam sent through earlier that he was at a training and would be home late and he'd ring Steve in the morning.
He expected Bucky might be out, he wasn't - he answered almost immediately, as if waiting for a call. Steve's call. He also answered not wearing a shirt. Steve’s eyes devoured the skin on display, noticing the scars around where his shoulder and prosthetic merged, Bucky seemingly not worried Steve was looking there. Bucky was built though, sculptured in a way which sucked the moisture from Steve’s mouth.
Steve's heart condition flared up, or maybe it was just arousal.
"Evening," Bucky started with a welcoming smile, a hint of something teasing around the edges, like he knew exactly what he’d done to Steve. "How was your day?"
Steve somehow picked his jaw up off the floor, and responded with a boring monologue at the same time as his eyes zeroed in on the yoga mat in the background. Was Bucky flexible? Oh Jesus Lord in heaven, he was. The positions Steve suddenly wanted to put him in were criminal.
"Yeah I'm flexible, why's that Stevie?"
And Steve dragged his eyes back to capture Bucky's mirthful expression and he felt the stirrings of an asthma attack. He'd just fucking said that out loud.
"Would you believe me if I said it's because I'm thinking of a new design which involves yoga poses and I could use your expertise?"
Bucky smirked, "nuh-uh, no. I wouldn't believe that."
"Oh," Steve managed.
"Although, I am most definitely interested in showing you what I can do though."
Steve blinked once.
He then swallowed thickly.
Was Bucky saying what he thought he was?
"I'm hoping by the splash of red on your face right now it means you might also be interested in that?" Bucky asked almost tentatively, "I mean if not, cool - happy to pick up our conversation about Star Trek, Next Gen instead if you want."
Steve was at a loss for words. This smart, funny attractive man was openly flirting with him, really flirting and all Steve could think was ‘what about Sam’ and he wanted to force those words out through his lips - but he didn’t. Instead he blurted, “I feel like Patrick Stewart isn’t acting, he’s just playing himself.”
The flash of what Steve thought was disappointment came and went so quickly on Bucky’s face that Steve wasn’t sure if he saw it or not. He wouldn’t jeopardize years of friendship with Sam for what could potentially be his, what - soul mate? Life was cruelly unfair on occasions. But he could still have Bucky’s friendship, that had to count for something, should help the sharp pang in his chest at the thought he could never have more.
It was all a little ludicrous, but the heart wanted what the heart wanted. He would just have to ignore it. It would lessen over time.
“Well, you’re not wrong - he and Sir Ian McKellan are the best, do you follow them on social media?”
Steve smiled, hiding his own self-inflicted hurt and launched into a robust discussion about TV shows, old men and the complexities of space travel.
Three hours later, sides hurting from laughter, Steve disconnected and buried his head in his hands so everything went dark and sighed deeply, trying to get his head straight. He had to cease their one-on-one conversations, it was only going to end in heartache - for Steve.
For the next few weeks he kept his Skype chats with Sam to a minimum and always had a ‘meeting’ to attend if Bucky appeared in view so he could disconnect quickly. Steve wasn’t a complete ass and always gave a cheery hello and asked how Bucky was going, before seeing the slight frown from Sam and the way he looked between the two of them, like they were a puzzle to be worked out. He also ignored the way Bucky seemed a little deflated when Steve, a little too loudly sometimes, had to sign off in a rush, because he’d forgotten to do something.
Sue him, he wasn’t an actor.
He missed their conversations though, more than he had a right to. It wasn’t just because Bucky looked like everything his heart had ever desired either. Bucky was genuinely funny, kind and made Steve feel special, like if the apocalypse happened, Bucky would be more than happy to spend a lifetime with only him for company. He had to stop watching Zombie shows.
But that is exactly why he’d backed off, he was too attached already and no matter how much he wished it so (in the silence of his head at two in the morning when he couldn’t sleep) Bucky was Sam’s, not his. He must have misunderstood Bucky’s flirting, because he knew, just knew that Bucky if dating someone, he’d be a million percent about them, he wouldn’t even look in another persons’ direction. So maybe Steve had also cut off their evening Skype sessions because he felt a fool for hoping, for being a terrible friend to Sam.
He was on a call to Sam a few days later, tentatively watching out for Bucky, when Sam clicked his fingers impatiently.
“You listening Steve?”
“Oh, yeah sorry - just got a lot going on here.”
“Alright, anything I can help with?”
“Nah, I’m okay - sorry, what did you ask?” Steve needed to concentrate on the conversation, not suddenly realise that all traces of Bucky had disappeared from Sam’s apartment. Maybe they’d cleaned up, put a few things away?
“I have a buddy, uh… why he wouldn’t let me say… anyway, I have a friend, James,” Steve heard Sam mutter something that sounded like ‘idiot’ under his breath, “he’s moving to Brooklyn, he hasn’t been there in years and he was, I mean - I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if I gave him your details and you could show him around, befriend him. He’s a dumbass but I vouch for him.”
Steve smiled warmly, “Of course, Sam. Happy to. Just give James my number and we can totally sort out a catch up. But you know I don’t have a riveting social life and probably can only show him the art gallery, art stores and places I like to paint right?”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine with that. More than fine.” Sam replied with a long suffering sigh which Steve didn’t think he deserved.
As Steve disconnected, he realised he didn’t ask Sam about Bucky and if everything was okay between them. Sam didn’t appear upset, so Steve was sure things were still going well. He buried the pang he was slowly getting used to, and opened up a spreadsheet, determined to get some work done.
James was funny, the text messages they’d shared so far were light hearted and full of giving Sam shit. He may have found a kindred spirit in that respect.
So when Steve asked James to come over to his place for a movie and dinner instead of meeting out for a coffee, he found he was really looking forward to meeting Sam’s friend. If their texts were any indication, they were going to get along famously. Steve needed more friends, if only to widen his social net.
So when he buzzed James up and heard a tentative knock on his door, he was more confused than excited when he came face to face with Bucky on his doorstep.
Steve was not at all prepared for the sheer pulsing physicality Bucky gave off in person, how he couldn’t help lean forward into his gravitational pull. Bucky stood on the threshold, cheeks red and a look of uncertainty on his face, his gaze moving all over Steve’s body rapidly, like he was cataloguing... his everything. Like he couldn’t believe he was seeing Steve in the flesh. Steve meanwhile had never seen anyone as absolutely breathtaking as Bucky was in that moment.
“Hiya, Stevie. Long time no see.” Bucky finally said after an age of staring.
And that voice, in person. Steve grasped the door handle tighter as his knees gave way. He did not just swoon. He fucking swooned. Over a deep voice. No, over Bucky’s voice.
“Yeah… uh, do you mind if I come in. Completely understand if you don’t want me to though.”
Steve gaped, trying to order his thoughts. How did Bucky get his address, why was he here? And crap, he had James coming over, a new friend did not need to walk into… whatever this was. It took Steve just one more moment to realise the truth.
“You’re James?” He drew out slowly.
Bucky looked down at his clasped hands contritely, “yep, James Buchanan Barnes, Bucky to my friends. I know, my parents were terrible at choosing names.”
He noticed then that Bucky was moving from one foot to the other nervously and Steve realised he’d still not moved from the door, effectively barring the way in. He looked up and caught the same blue eyes which always made his stomach twist in knots, and knew he shouldn’t invite him in, but felt the words leaving his lips anyway.
They made it to the lounge and stood awkwardly by the couch, Bucky’s eyes flicking to the TV to see the movie Steve had queued up for them, smiling when he saw the original Star Trek opening titles. Steve’s heart flipped at seeing those lips in the flesh. Lips he’d fantasied about for way too many nights.
“Thanks for not kicking me out. I just… I really wanted to see you.”
“Why?” Steve asked, noting his voice sounded breathy. Get a grip.
Looking at him incredulously, Bucky blurted “jesus, Stevie, because you’re the most amazing person to walk the planet maybe. Or the fact that even though you’ve pulled back for some reason, assuming you don’t want to date according to Sam, I’ve never connected with anyone the way we did. And I just had a feeling if you knew I was James, you’d somehow find a way not to see me, and I just had to know - had to see you in person, just to see...”
“See what?” Steve asked, still trying to work out what Bucky meant by Sam saying he didn’t want to date - what was that about?
Bucky took a glacially paced step forward, moving nearer and Steve’s entire body began to vibrate at the closeness, the look in Bucky’s eyes as they flicked over Steve, like he couldn’t believe they were in the same space. Steve could hardly believe it either.
But common sense prevailed like the cock block it was.
"What about Sam?" Steve managed to choke out, just as Bucky reached out to touch his face.
Bucky frowned and dropped his hand. Damn it, that was also alluring and made him so much more human.
"What about Sam?"
"Oh, you came here without him?" Steve was on a roll. There was no better way to kill a mood then bringing up someone's significant other.
"Yeah, of course I did,” he looked down at Steve like he was addled in the brain, “it’s a bit hard to crash on someones’ couch when they’re about to ask the love of their life to move in and marry them. We're good pals and I like Riley, but we’re not that good of friends."
Steve’s mouth dropped open, quite unattractively if he had to guess. But Bucky watched him carefully as Steve let out a shaky breath he'd not been aware he'd held for about a month now. Bucky wasn't dating Sam. Christ, that meant he was potentially available. And Sam was proposing to Riley! Why hadn’t he told Steve? That was big news. He wasn't sure if he could articulate anything in that moment, but he tried.
"That's… that's - really great actually." He managed in a rush of words. Encompassing both the fact that Sam and Riley had sorted their differences out and the fact Bucky wasn’t having regular sex with Sam. A cacophony of nerves started deep in his chest at the possibilities which had just potentially opened up.
Bucky looked at Steve for a long moment thinking, pausing his initial words before raising a surprised eyebrow.
"Oh shit, did you think Sam and I were…" he made an interesting gesture with his hands, and laughter bubbled up in Steve's chest. He allowed a grin to escape, too concerned if he let a laugh out, it would borderline hysterical in relief.
"To be fair, Buck - it kind of appeared like it."
Bucky looked slightly horrified at the idea, making Steve wonder what Bucky's type was. Fingers crossed it was small, stubborn, frustrating workaholics who liked to switch and give orders. He wasn't holding his breath.
“Yeah, well it might have been Sam who cottoned on to how I felt, from the first time I saw you on screen. I couldn’t stop staring, you were the most gorgeous person I’d ever laid eyes on. Funny, quick witted, christ, you hit all of my nerd buttons and all the others. Sam gave me so much shit as I hovered around, hoping you’d call, just so I could see your big baby blues again.”
Steve knew his jaw was probably going to lock into place, open and gaping. “Sam knew? He didn’t say anything - I thought you were hooking up with each other! He led me to believe you were, in not so many words. I felt like the biggest creep, because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Bucky paused and shrugged his shoulders after a second, “apparently, it seems he loved messing with us too much.”
He was going to kill Sam, in many wonderful different ways.
But all thoughts of maiming his best friend flew out the window when Steve noticed Bucky hovering close by, a look of burgeoning hope filling his features. Steve then did something he’d been dreaming of from the first second he’d seen Bucky’s large frame cross over in front of the camera. He reached forward, grasping the collar of Bucky’s crewneck sweater tightly and yanked him in.
Their lips almost missed each other, Steve having to reach up on his toes as Bucky’s eager mouth caught his on the side at first. But then it happened, they moulded perfectly, Steve breathlessly pushing up against Bucky’s lips hard. Pressing his tongue into the warmth, relishing in the sparks of adrenaline and lust shooting down his spine. Finally, he finally had Bucky right where he’d wished him to be, and it was fucking spectacular.
Bucky moaned into his mouth, the sound vibrating through to his core, then strong arms pulled him in tightly and they were kissing messily, greedily with an edge of desperation to it, like it would be taken away from them just as they’d discovered it. Tongues tangled and Steve was thrilled when Bucky relented, letting Steve take charge, to drive the pace and take what he wanted. Reaching up he drove his fingers into Bucky’s hair, eliciting a wrecked sound from deep in Bucky’s chest, tugging his head back so his throat was exposed which ripped their lips apart, but it was exactly what Steve wanted.
“You like that?” Steve asked huskily, nipping at Bucky’s jaw, loving the way Bucky nodded enthusiastically instead of answering. Steve gave another experimental tug. The pure unadulterated whine of pleasure struck him in the gut. “Can I suck you?”
Bucky stalled, and Steve felt a spike of uncertainty, had he pushed too far? Surely he hadn’t misread the situation so far.
“Fuck,” Bucky ground out, “Yes, christ, I want that more than you know, but I don’t want this to be one night.”
Steve blinked owlishly up at him.
Bucky took one step back and Steve missed his warmth immediately, what had he done wrong? “Buck?”
“Shit, what I am failing miserably to say is, I like you. Like really, really like you and if you’re on board - I’d like us to try and date, see where it goes. I don’t want you to fuck me tonight then this is all it is. If that makes sense?”
Steve had lost all coherant thoughts at the words ‘fuck me’ there was no way…
Then he launched himself at Bucky, the larger man gasping at the force of all Steve had behind him, making him stagger until his knees hit the couch and he was down. Clearly he didn’t think Steve was as strong as he was (thanks Natasha). Steve landed awkwardly on top of him, but he didn’t stop, attacking Bucky’s neck, kissing and licking, as he straddled him and ground down, needing the pressure, the friction.
“Stevie?” Bucky whined in question.
Stopping a second he came back into himself, seeing how blown Bucky’s eyes were. Steve cupped his cheek and smoothed a thumb tenderly across the stubbled skin, watching how Bucky’s eyes fluttered shut at the gesture.
“You’re so gorgeous, so responsive - you’re going to be so good for me, aren’t you?” Steve wasn’t sure where the words were coming from, but they sounded right, they settled in his chest with a sense of correctness. And judging by the way Bucky squirmed, face flushed in pleasure at what Steve had said, he’d hit some kind of praise kink. Oh, this was going to be delightful.
“Not just tonight?” Bucky rasped, still trying and almost failing at holding his thoughts together as Steve began to grind down on him again.
“No, sweetheart, not just tonight.” He responded, and just as Bucky let out a long deep breath of relief, Steve slithered his hand between them to undo Bucky’s jeans and slide his hot little hand into his briefs. Bucky was silky, smooth and hard. Steve needed to suck him down - now.
Bucky jerked with a whimper at the touch, then gasped as Steve tightened his grip and began a slow thorough exploration, before the restrictions of Bucky’s jeans became a hindrance instead of something hot.
He jumped off reluctantly, knowing it was a necessary evil and yanked the denim fabric down Bucky’s thick thighs, the chuckle and hooded gaze from Bucky as they caught at his knees making Steve flush, but he was determined and before too long, they were disposed off and he was kneeling in between Bucky’s legs.
Before he moved, he just looked, inspected and found himself drooling a little at the spectacular view before him. Bucky spread out like a meal, all for Steve.
“I’m clean, had a test last month, haven’t been with anyone. I can show you if you want.” Bucky said quickly, clearly trying not to ruin the moment, but knowing it was important and Steve could have kicked himself for forgetting himself in the moment, he was usually more careful. But he trusted Bucky.
“Same, tested three months ago, but haven’t - well you know. I can show you mine too?”
“S’ok, Stevie, I trust you.” Bucky mimicked the words he’d thought moments earlier.
So he engulfed Bucky in one extremely large mouthful, delighting in the shocked inhale of breath which turned into a gasping moan.
Bucky tasted like everything good in life, which was a strange thing to think with a mouthful of cock. But it was true, he did.
It didn’t take long at all for Steve to have Bucky writhing on the couch, holding his hips down into the soft cushioning and attacking him with deep, then shallow sucks, repeating it over and over again until Bucky whimpered uncontrollably. Steve luxuriated in every twitch he pulled from Bucky, hearing the jumble of swear words intermixed with words of encouragement from above him.
Spit dribbled down his chin as he lost himself in trying to draw out cries of pleasure, allowing his grip to loosen on Bucky’s hip so he could press a finger against the skin between Bucky’s balls and ass, pressing and rubbing in a circular motion, and the response was instantaneous. Bucky arched up, widening his legs further, presenting his hole for Steve to do what he pleased. It was heady and sexy all rolled up in one gorgeous whining package.
Steve was rock hard in his pants.
It was one of the most intimate and trusting things in the world, handing your pleasure to someone else, and as Steve pressed a spit-slicked finger teasingly into Bucky’s hole, feeling it get sucked in with pressure, Bucky’s body shuddered. He was losing his mind and Steve was there for it, having never been so invested in making a partner feel this good before.
“Stevie, oh shit - that feels… fuck. You feel so fucking good inside me.”
Steve had never heard Bucky swear so much, but he liked it. He was so out of it, every word mumbled was spontaneous, off the cuff, no thought behind it except pure lust and impending orgasm. He added a second finger, diving in as deep as he could, now using his other hand to jerk Bucky’s cock as he licked the shiny head, enjoying the tang of pre-come coating it.
It was as Steve popped off Bucky’s cock and moved lower to lick around his fingers which were deep inside Bucky’s writhing body that he finally came with an aborted shout, Steve jerking him through it as he attempted to keep his tongue close to the musky centre of him.
Before Bucky could move, and gratified, Steve noticed he wasn’t in a hurry as he was still coming down from the other plane Steve had taken him to, he leant up and began to lathe Bucky’s stomach, cleaning up all the white strips of release. The sharp jerky breaths from Bucky, made Steve look up through his lashes, a trick he’d learned years ago, though it seemed less like a trick in this case and more of a connection as their eyes met and neither could look away as Steve’s tongue made quick work of cleaning Bucky’s mess all up.
“Tasty,” Steve murmured as he licked his lips one last time, and then that was it. Bucky grasped his shoulders and all but threw him onto the couch, every scrap of clothing soon divested and in a pile on the floor. Bucky’s metal-like arm, a lot stronger than Steve had imagined, he felt his insides quell at the thought of what it could do.
“Fucking hell, you’re built like a, jesus - I’m definitely the luckiest guy on the planet.” Bucky said reverently as he kissed down Steve’s chest to lick and tease at his abdominals (which he worked very hard for, thank you very much).
All of Natasha’s pain was worth it for the way Bucky worshipped his body for the next two hours, bringing Steve to the brink too many times, that edging was now becoming a word which Steve knew they would be using in the future.
Never had a partner made Steve feel so coveted, like he was giving over something of himself which was precious. But Bucky did. Steve was never going to be able to give this up. He hoped he didn’t have to.
Eventually Bucky hooked Steve’s knees over his shoulders and sat up so Steve was almost upside down, and took his weeping, tender cock deeply into his mouth and sucked hard. He then reached down to pinch Steve’s nipples and he couldn’t anymore.
“Buck, I’m going to… going to come.”
Bucky doubled down, holding Steve tighter, not letting him move and it undid him, he came hard, pulsing into Bucky’s mouth, as his tongue swirled through the mess, feeling him swallow greedily, not letting a drop escape. Steve twitched as Bucky continued to suckle him, feeling oversensitized but also too wrung out to escape, the orgasm hours in the making wringing him out.
He was only vaguely aware of being cleaned up in a quick tepid shower before falling into bed, damp and sated, curling up with another equally warm body. He was certain he fell asleep smiling.
A week later, Steve could tell Sam was bursting to ask if he’d met up with James, but he let it fester, not saying anything, enjoying the way his shit of a friend bounced from topic to topic in a roundabout way of asking.
Steve remained obtuse, but secretly couldn’t stop laughing.
Sam looked annoyed each time he disconnected their calls.
They had an entire charade planned out on how Bucky would just waltz past in the background on their next Skype call, half naked and act like nothing was happening. But it didn’t quite pan out that way.
“I asked Riley to marry me.” Sam started.
“And…” Steve asked with bated breath, hearing Bucky run from the bedroom at the words.
“He said yes!”
“Holy shit - bud that’s amazing!” Bucky yelled at the same time as Steve burst out with happy laughter, clapping in glee.
But Sam didn’t respond at all, and Steve looked back at the computer screen to see Sam frowning at the fact Bucky was draped over Steve’s back, hugging him from behind as he stared into the camera. Then he gulped - Bucky was naked, not that Sam would be able to see anything important, but he would be able to tell. He also shouldn’t be getting hot because he could feel Bucky’s warm cock pressed against his back.
“Really?” Sam asked deadpanned.
“Err, I met up with your friend James, top bloke. I’d one hundred percent meet up with him again.” Steve started, jolting at Bucky’s punch to his shoulder, glad he didn’t use his metal fist.
“You guys are terrible friends, it wasn’t bad enough watching you pine for each other for weeks, but when I finally get the genius idea to set you up, you don’t even tell me.”
“You pretended to be sleeping with him,” Steve started and huffed at Sam’s nonchalant shrug.
“And,” Bucky continued, “you told me Steve wasn’t interested in anything long term to make me suffer. I would not class that as setting up.”
“Did my plan work? Then yes, I’m certified as the best wingman in the business. You can thank me later. Now forget you - I just got engaged gentlemen, so who’s going to be my best man? And…. fight!”
Steve hung up, and ignored the fifteen times Sam tried to reconnect with them straight after.
“That was cruel,” Bucky smiled into Steve’s mouth as he spun around, no longer able to resist the naked adonis at his back, all muscular and requiring urgent attention.
“Do you want to fight over it - because, Barnes - we all know I’ll be the best man.”
“Oh is that so, Rogers? I think we have a duel on our hands.”
Bucky then proceeded to do that thing with his tongue which turned Steve into a dribbling incoherent mess. Though he didn’t forget their challenge.
A year later, Sam married the love of his life Riley, with two best men at his side (who proceeded to cause a ruckus at the reception in the cloak room - who could blame Steve, Bucky in a suit was all kinds of hot).
Sam disowned them for a month, but it was totally worth it. Everything about Bucky was worth it, and luckily for Steve, Bucky felt the exact same way.