“Ah, yeah, r-right there... Ah, fuck...”
It’s a divine sight to behold and Bucky would be hard-pressed to dismiss it. How could he? He’d be a sucker for sure not to give all of his attention to the gift before him. Not with Sam on his hands and knees on the bed of their room. His back arched like a valley of trembling sinew and perfection. Sweet dark skin shining from sweat, littered with bruises when Bucky’s mouth took to him, trying to taste every inch and keep its memory on his tongue. Not with three fingers of his left hand buried in him but barely, just barely, skimming against the treasured little part Bucky knows could stoke an inferno in Sam’s body.
“Don’t worry baby,” Bucky says, his voice so low and so raspy that he almost doesn’t recognize it. “I got you.”
Bucky presses his fingers deep one last time before he slips them out, deliberately going slow just so he could drag out the velvet warmth around them. He watches, transfixed, as that hole winks closed. Just like the dark metal of his fingers, it’s wet and shining from when his own mouth had been there not too long before. Wetting him up so that he’d take his fingers. Getting him ready for the next part to come. He licks his lips at the memory, tempted to go back for another taste. No. No, next time because he knows there will be a next time.
He doesn’t know nor does he honestly care when this thing between them started. It’s been both a blessing and a curse, Bucky sometimes thinks. A blessing because Sam chose him to lay himself bare to and a curse because now Bucky’s addicted and he doesn’t think this is something he could ever quit. He only cares that he’s here now. In this instant, in time he’s with Sam and he’s thinking about a future where Sam is still his. That thought alone makes Bucky’s heart pound hard and his throat almost closes up from the emotions swirling up in him. He’s reminded of how much of a lucky bastard he is.
Bucky comes back to himself and looks up to see Sam peering at him over his shoulder, an eyebrow arched in question but his dark eyes full of concern. Bucky can see himself in those thoughts that are probably swirling through Sam’s head. He’s probably thinking whether they should stop because Bucky might have entered one of those states where his head locks up and he has trouble remembering who he is. Sam, beautiful sweet Sam, always at the ready to take care of the damaged creatures he brings close to him. Really Bucky doesn’t understand how he got so lucky.
He grins and presses a reassuring kiss followed by a little nip against Sam’s hip. “Sorry honey, just admiring the view,” he says and as an apology he reaches his left hand lower, trailing wet against skin before he cups Sam’s sack and rolls them in his palm.
Sam’s hips jerk forward and he gasps and then hums in soft pleasure but of course, it’s not enough to completely distract him. His sharp mind always working and his mouth always running. “A fine view I’m sure but I’m gonna need you to do more than sightsee,” he says and sure enough Bucky can hear the grin in his voice. “Unless you’re tiring out old man.”
He groans and curses when Bucky gives him a little firm squeeze. While Bucky can’t exactly feel in the sense of what flesh can experience the sensors inside still do an insanely close enough job. Trust Wakandan tech to get closer than any other place in the world in creating an actual sensation in an artificial limb rather than a simulation. He can “feel” the heat and weight of Sam in his hand. The way he trembles and his hips squirm as the textures of his palm scrape against the most delicate part of him.
“Whatever, kids these days don’t know the value of just slowing down,” Bucky snorts as his hand moves again, this time wrapping around Sam’s neglected cock, “and just savor the moment.”
This earns him a complete body shudder and a keening whine. Sam’s hips jolt to push into the grip but Bucky’s right hand takes hold of him by the hip and keeps him still.
Sam growls, clearly perturbed at being denied. “There’s slowing down to enjoy then there’s taking too damn long.”
See, what a lot of people don’t know is that beneath Sam’s heroic and kind exterior there lies a brat. He’s impatient when he wants and has his ways of getting it with little to almost no trouble. He’ll even resort to some truly dirty tactics if it meant getting his way. Bucky discovered this after the first couple of times they got together. Since then Bucky’s immensely enjoyed fucking discipline into Sam. Drilling it home that he’d only need to ask nicely and Bucky would move heaven and earth to give him what he wants. But not always. Sometimes he had to be patient and wait. Sometimes he’d have to go slow and take his time. Sometimes he’d have to beg. And this time was no different.
Sam gasps another curse making Bucky grin. Pride welling up in his chest and gives his Sammy a good firm stroke, thumbing at the dribbling head smearing the pre-come around the silky dark skin. It throbs hard and Sam’s elbows give out to where his ass is presented in the air like some kind of installed work of art. Which it is. If Bucky wasn’t confident that it would get him killed he’d write a hundred-page letter to Mama Wilson. Half of it dedicated to thanking her for her rearing of Sam and the other half for the ass she gifted her son.
“F-fuck...ah, Bucky c’mon.” Sam tries again to thrust into Bucky’s fist but groans frustrated when he’s denied again.
Bucky gives him another firm stroke before going back to his balls and cupping them, rolling them. His thumb pressing into that delicate space between them and that lovely little twitching hole. He can’t help himself and breaks his restraint, leaning forward and lick a broad stripe across that furled skin. He jabs at it with his tongue and sucks a kiss.
“All you gotta do is ask sweetheart,” Bucky says when he pulls away. His voice rough because the desire in him is so great now that he almost can’t stand it. He wants nothing more than to give Sam what he wants, what he deserves. But he can’t yet because Sam just got sassy and now he needs to use his words and use them nicely.
Sam is panting and trembling and God does it make a beautiful sight. Bucky can see he wants to hold out because that’s just the brat in him but his resolve is crumbling away just as quickly. He’s been so good and kept on edge so long.
“Please,” Sam moans sweetly, “I need you...”
A spike of heat lances through Bucky’s core and straight to his cock making him groan. He had been ignoring it for as long as he could but now it was angrily reminding him of its existence. His right hand wraps around himself, squeezing to alleviate some of the throbbing pressure before choking it at the base, keeping himself from going off too soon. Sure he’d be ready to go again in no time but that’s not how or where he wants to come off just yet.
His left hand reluctantly relinquishes its hold on Sam and scrabbles for the bottle of lube that nearly got lost in the sheets. He pops the cap and pours the viscous fluid onto himself until it’s messy just the way he likes. He strokes himself, the slick of lube and the pre-come creating that messy, filthy slide he likes, spreading it evenly all around before closing off the bottle and tossing it back onto the bed.
He catches sight of Sam again looking at him. Watching him with hunger in those depths so clear that it makes Bucky’s belly go tight. His hips make an involuntary jerk, fucking into his fist a couple of times. He shudders and takes a deep breath to keep himself in control but he makes sure to give Sam a good show.
When he’s ready, and it doesn’t take long because he’s made himself wait long enough too, he gets to his knees and gets right up behind Sam. He keeps a firm hold of his cock, pressing the swollen head against the puckered skin of Sam’s hole. He presses against it hard, not breaching just yet, but swirl it around, spreading the mix of fluid and lube around, getting it to a polished shine. He can feel how it trembles, wanting it so badly.
“Buck...Bucky, oh God please.”
It would be cruel to ignore such pleading. It would be like ignoring a message. A divine calling. No, he couldn’t do that. Not with how good Sam’s been. Especially, not with how those beautiful need filled words were resonating in him like an explosion in an empty silo. So he does what any good soldier does. He follows orders.
He palms that ample ass, squeezing, getting his fill, and spreads them apart. He watches how his cock is slowly devoured, swallowed down to the root. Stretched around him, pulling him in like it’s trying to welcome him home. He presses hard in until there’s no space between where they’re joined. Until the firm curve is pressed against Bucky’s groin. Fitting so perfectly together. He feels everything at that moment and it’s everything he hopes Heaven is like because if it’s not then there’s no point in ever dying.
He groans a sound that rumbles up deep from his chest, but it has nothing on the sound Sam makes when he’s fully seated. The sound Sam makes is music composed by sirens and it pulls at Bucky’s pride with how satisfied it is. He babbles about how good Bucky feels. How he’s wanted this, how he needs him.
He soothes Sam, and himself, with kisses against his back. He whispers against his skin about how good Sam is. Praising how he takes him so well and how he’s going to worship him like the divine creature he is.
“S’like you’re made for me sweetheart,” Bucky whispers in awe against Sam’s skin.
Soon enough, because he just can’t wait anymore, his hips begin to move. He sets the pace. A slow hard rhythm to an unsung beat. Pulling back just enough to give him that elated high of pushing back in. And Sam, so good and so sweetly desperate, pushes back to meet him.
Bucky revels in the place he’s carved himself into. He’s buried so impossibly deep he never wants to leave. Hot, almost scalding, tight but so soft and yielding for him.
Only him, some possessive part of his brain growls. The thought of anyone else seeing this, having this, sets something off in him. An animalistic instinct that rears up and snarls.
He grips Sam’s hips certain (hoping) that bruises would be left in his wake and yanks him back onto his cock just as he pushes forward, startling a high but delighted moan out of his lover. His pace changes into something harder, more brutal. Faster.
Whether he’s trying to prove something to himself or to some unknown forces in the universe that conspire against him, he doesn’t know. He only knows that Sam is his and he’d fight tooth and nail to keep him.
The sound of skin against skin and the rocking creak of their bed spurs him on but none more so than the music of Sam’s voice as it climbs an octave.
“O-oh fuck, baby give it to me, fuck yes give it to me!”
The side of Sam’s face is pressed into the bedding giving Bucky a clear view of his profile. His eyes are shut tight, likely trying to hold himself off, lip caught between his teeth and worried practically to death. One hand clenched tight in the sheets and the other... Fuck there’s no doubt where the other is.
Bucky wonders if Sam knows just how beautiful he is. How devastatingly breathtaking. A desperate part in him wants to show him. Wants Sam to see how he sees him. A hungry and wild thought comes to him suddenly. An idea that strikes him like lightning and spreads a wildfire of molten heat through his whole being.
Bucky plasters himself against the broad back, pressing sweat-slicked skin against skin until there is nothing between them but that alone. He plants his knees into the mattress and he relentlessly jackhammers his cock, barely pulling out, into the man beneath him.
Sam’s head lifts up, his eyes blinking open and his mouth forms an almost perfect “o” shape allowing higher more desperate sounds to tumble out. Bucky takes advantage because whenever there’s an opening he will take it, letting his left hand grab Sam by his jaw and hold him while Bucky kisses him over his shoulder.
It’s not the ideal angle because he can’t get his tongue in as deep as he wants but he settles for setting teeth into the plush bottom lip and devouring the moan it brings out.
“I’m gonna fuck you in front of a mirror one day,” he growls against Sam’s lips. He kisses the corner of his mouth again because he’s so gone for the taste. “‘M gonna show you how good you look getting it. How good you are at taking me.”
His hips don’t let up, going back to that slow hard grinding roll keeping him buried so deep. He can feel how Sam’s hole is trembling around him, squeezing him. A telltale of him getting so close but trying so hard to hold off. To be so good. Bucky knows what he wants. He knows like it’s a deep universal truth that’s been etched into his heart. He’s going to get him there, he promises himself but first, he’s gotta know.
Bucky presses a kiss against the side of Sam’s face, and then another against the curve of his ear.
“You’d like that right honey? Huh, sweetheart? You’d like to watch yourself get fucked by me yeah?”
Sam moans his eyes fluttering closed again, his hand comes up to grip Bucky’s arm, the one wrapped around him like an anaconda. Fingers shining from where he had been tugging at his own cock. Soaked and smearing across Bucky’s plates as he holds onto him for dear life. Bucky wants to lick those fingers so badly. Suck them clean one by one. Next time. Next time.
“N-not me I’d watch,” Sam gasps.
Those words make Bucky freeze in place. All hard bones and muscles stand frozen as the words echo around in his head. Awe takes him and holds him down in an unrelenting fist.
And if that weren’t enough Sam keeps talking.
“I want to watch you. Watch you take me. Watch you fill me up.”
He’s moving beneath him, pressing himself into the mattress and then back onto Bucky. He turns his head just enough for their eyes to meet over his shoulder. The pupils are blown so wide that they look almost black and they shine so bright. The darkness of space has nothing on those eyes and Bucky feels himself needing so badly to sink and forever get lost in them.
“I want to watch you make love to me.”
Bucky’s heart beats so hard he’s shaken from it. Like it wants to rip its way out of his chest and into the hands of this man under him. A savage desperate feeling grips him. He had done a lot of hard things in his life. Both when he was not himself and after he was freed. Yet nothing felt more difficult than letting Sam go just then. Nothing was more agonizing than hearing the confused and startled gasp as pulled out of the blessed velvet heat that he had carved himself into. But it was for only a moment. Just a moment that felt like an eternity but he needed to see Sam fully.
He grips Sam by his upper arm and using that strength gifted to him by monsters of a past life and he spins Sam onto his back. It’s so easy and Sam goes willingly, so full of trust that the ache of guilt for when he had ever hurt Sam gnaws at him. Yet he gets over it quickly because he’s reminded of how much Sam likes his strength. By no means is Sam a small man. He’s spent years developing his body, building his strength to keep up with people with advantages far beyond him.
He’s athletic in his build, not a hulking bruiser like himself or Steve that got juiced up by madmen hopped up on war and power. Sam’s all rounded muscles but somehow still so soft. Pecks rising and falling with his gasping breaths, dark nipples peaked and tempting. Everything so prettily on display. All down to his dark length of cock that lies against his belly, twitching and wet.
“Baby, wha- ah!”
Bucky grips him by those heavenly thick thighs and pulls them apart so he can get between them. Makes those legs wrap around his waist so that those calves are resting just above his ass and he’s cradled by nothing but softness and curves.
“I fucking love you,” he says and sinks his cock deep back into the paradise of Sam’s body.
Sam’s whole body shudders like he’s being electrocuted and he moans high, wanting and blissed out. His head thrown back and exposing the length of throat that makes Bucky bite at, worrying the skin and sucking hard kisses so that there will be a mark left afterward. Because people need to see that Sam is taken and no one else can have him.
Then he covers him, planting his forearms into the mattress on the sides of Sam, caging him in. Pressing down chest to chest, swearing to anyone who’d listen that their hearts are beating in tandem and he kisses him. Now it’s the way he likes. All-consuming and hot and wet. Where his tongue is able to lick its way inside and slide along Sam’s. Tracing his teeth like he’s examining the glittering ivory stones of a cavern that’s been kept secret from the world. Teasing at the little gap at the front.
And when he starts to move, picking back up that hard grinding pace, he drinks down the moans that spills out. That makes his lips tingle and his whole body burn. Bucky wants for nothing else but this moment here to last forever.
Sam’s fingers bury into the length of his hair and pulls in the way that makes Bucky’s cock throb harder. He breaks away gulping down a lungful of air, but he keeps their foreheads pressed together.
“Love you,” he says and it’s so desperate and full that he says it again, “love you.
He chants it like a mantra, beating it into Bucky’s head where even if he died tomorrow on a bad mission this would be the last thing he remembers. And even then it would be enough to make him keep going. To not slow down. To not stop.
Bucky can feel Sam’s cock pulsing between them. It’s heat searing into his skin like a brand. He’s been so, so good.
It’s just the slightest shift in his hips, making them cant forward just a little, bringing Sam’s legs up just a little higher and...
“Ah fuck! Fuck yes right there! There!”
Bucky drives into it like a battering ram. Merciless and unstoppable. His own orgasm is right there, right at the edge and ready to dropkick him into bliss-filled oblivion. But he needs Sam to go first. Needs to watch him come undone just so he can etch it into his memory.
“Come for me, baby. Can you do it untouched? Like this?”
Sam shakes his head, whether he’s saying he can’t or he won’t because he wants to keep this up for as long as he can just like him. Because he’s greedy like that and it makes Bucky just love him all the harder.
Sam’s arms wrap around him tight, digging his blunt nails into his back. The sting of their bite is so good that it makes Bucky’s rhythm falter just a little but he picks it back up with no trouble.
“Yeah you can,” he growls and kisses Sam again, something quick and filthy before pulling away. “C’mon sweetheart show me. Lemme see you melt.”
Sam doesn’t melt. He erupts. Hot and slick and wet between them, crying out and showing his throat again. His long dark lashes sparkling from the tears that had gathered there. His hole trembling and clenching impossibly tight around Bucky as if trying to milk the life out of him.
Bucky holds onto Sam and fucks him through it, slowing down and grinding deeper until the wave takes him over too. It hits him so hard his vision whites out and he buries his own desperate sounds into Sam’s skin.
He holds onto Sam like a lifeline and he’s drowning out at sea. He holds him until he can feel the last of his orgasm ebb until he's milked completely dry until the base of his spine stops tingling and his brain comes back online after a hard reboot.
He feels Sam’s trembling fingers carding through his hair, brushing it off his cheek. He’s panting too, likely trying to bring himself back from the brink. Grounding himself by touching Bucky as much as he can, anyway he can. Maybe he’s trying to burn all this into his mind too. Keep it locked tight in his heart just like him.
Bucky kisses his skin, at his clavicle, and then his throat, tasting the salt of his sweat. He notices then a splotch of white striped across one of those perky dark nipples and without hesitation, he leans down and licks it up.
Sam gasps and whines softly. “Buck...wait...” His words slurred from obvious exhaustion but Bucky soothes him with a little peck of a kiss against his mouth.
“Shh, it’s okay. Just getting a little taste that’s all.”
Bucky’s right hand cradles the side of Sam’s face, his thumb tracing the high bone of his cheek. Brushing away the tear streak that had fallen there not too long ago. Those dark depths open and focus on him, still hazy but they meet him head-on. He gazes down at Sam and nearly forgets to breathe with how beautiful he is.
“You just taste so good I can’t help myself.”
Sam smiles giving him a peek of that gap between his teeth before he turns his head a little to press a soft kiss against Bucky’s palm. All while never breaking their gaze.
“Sap,” he says grinning.
Bucky can’t stop the low quiet laugh that comes out of him. He gets high on happiness when Sam joins him.
They stay like that for a little while, locked in each other’s arms, trading quiet words and soft kisses until Bucky slowly eases his softened cock out of Sam. He wanted to stay, tempted by the little intake of air and the disappointed noise Sam makes when he’s suddenly empty. Tempted by the soft twitch of the muscles around him that felt like they wanted to draw him back in. But he’s got to clean them up, he’s learned the hard way of the consequences of post-sex laziness.
He stands from the bed all jelly knees and wobbly legs like a newborn colt. His heart stutters when he catches sight of Sam laid out on the bed, looking fuck drunk and so satisfied. His hole still dripping. Bucky’s cock twitches with interest but he gets himself together and stumbles to the bathroom. Another time. Another time.
His resolve tested further when he hears Sam say, “hurry back.” The brat.
He washes his hands, grateful with how easily the metal it cleans off but the thought of traces of Sam being among the plating makes him hesitate but he washes it clean anyway. Can’t have any awkward stories of strange gunk in his arm whenever he needs to get it serviced. Besides, he’s sure Shuri wouldn’t appreciate him being not completely honest with her about what it was or how it got there.
He splashes some water on his face and rinses his mouth. He catches an image of himself in the mirror looking rumpled and ruddy, and then the doorway to the bedroom behind him. He could make out the dim shape of Sam still lying on the bed probably dozing off, waiting for him.
“I want to watch you make love to me.”
He leashes hold of those thoughts quickly and took a deep breath to calm himself because he’s sure he’ll get hard again in no time. The last thing he wants to do is jerk off in the bathroom like some horny teenager when he’s got something far better waiting on him only a few feet away.
He does a quick wipe down of himself, to get some of the worse of the mess off but it’s not as thorough as a shower would be. He really didn’t care because at some point he’ll convince Sam that they could save water if they shared one later. Besides he wasn’t too much in a hurry to wash Sam off his skin.
He gets another washcloth, wets it, making sure the water is warm and comfortable before he makes his way back to Sam. He was right when he figured the man had dozed off. Stretched out like a lazy cat. The decision to disturb him is hard but necessary because Bucky wants him in his arms before he passes out for the night. Plus...he’s got something he wants to look into.
He kneels on the bed and gently presses the warmed cloth against Sam’s chest. The muscles twitch and Sam hums. Sleepy brown eyes open minutely to look at him before closing again.
“‘Bout time,” he mumbles petulantly. “Thought you fell down and couldn’t get up.”
“Ha, ha, your old man jokes are pure gold sweetheart,” Bucky replies.
He tenderly wipes Sam clean, from chest to belly, to his softened cock and sack. Then he travels much lower, pressing it against the messy hole between his legs. This earns him a little shiver and a deep sigh and fuck if it doesn’t make Bucky want to go another round but he’s got to let Sam rest first. It’s probably one of the worst things about being supercharged up all the time.
He’s a bullet in a world of clouds.
He swallows hoping to work the dryness out of his throat and gets back to cleaning Sam.
“Besides,” he says still trying to distract himself, “I’m not the one who’s two-thirds of the way passed out. A little workout wear you down?”
Bucky grins when Sam gives a half-hearted glare in return.
“You try getting fucked into oblivion by an insatiable beast. Swear to god I’ll call animal control on you.”
Bucky laughs and kisses Sam again. He could never get enough of kissing Sam.
“Sure you would,” he says against those pouty lips. “But then you’ll have to come get me because you missed me and my cock too much.”
Sam kisses him back and he can feel him grinning. “I guess," he says with a dramatic sigh as if it was such a hardship. "Fuck, I’ll never be rid of you then.”
“Poor baby, how difficult for you.”
“Shut up and get in this bed before I replace you with a body pillow.”
Bucky chuckles. “Well, we can’t have that now can we?”
Bucky tosses the washcloth aside, promises he’ll collect it later when Sam arches an eyebrow at him. He gets Sam to take a drink of water from the bottle on the bedside table and then downs the rest himself tossing the bottle back onto the night table, smirking at Sam’s pointed look. Sam rolls his eyes in return before he smiles and it’s so full of love and fondness that Bucky remembers how stupidly lucky he is.
They climb into the bed, kick aside the messy comforter and pull the sheet to slide across their still heated skin.
Sam cuddles up (though he’ll deny this to his deathbed) on his right laying his head against his chest while Bucky’s human arm wraps securely around him. His leg sliding across Bucky’s and his arm lay across his stomach. His palm is pressed flat against Bucky’s chest, right over his heartbeat. Sure enough, in a way that is purely Sam, he drifts back off with a contented sigh that ghosts across Bucky’s skin.
Bucky doesn’t immediately follow of course. He picks up his phone from the night table and brushes the textured pad of his metal thumb against the screen to bring it to life.
He looks through a few of his missed messages out of habit. Most of them are notifications for one thing or another that didn’t immediately require his attention. The business of saving the world has been slow lately. A text from Steve, that was hours old, asking what he and Sam were up to that evening.
He was tempted to take a picture of Sam sleeping at his side curled up against his skin with his arm around him, with an obscene caption that would surely make Steve blush to the roots of his hair and yell, via messages, at him about decency. Any century where he can aggravate Steve's wholesomeness is a great one, he feels. But then he remembered that savage feeling from earlier. The one where he wanted no one else seeing Sam this way. All soft and sated, glowing from the inside out from bliss. Not even his best friend whom he knew only held Sam in the highest and most platonic regard.
He left Steve on 'Read' and opened the actual screen he wanted.
It took a little time and little searching but he found the thing he was looking for. It was big and wide with silver and gold designed frame. A hanging kit was included with it.
He hit the 'checkout' button, paid extra for the expedited shipping (because what else is a hefty military back-pay for?), and wrote a mildly threatening message that it should be handled with the utmost care or there would be consequences. He liked to cover his bases as thoroughly as possible. There was a weird stroke to his ego when he saw the confirmation message pop up next on the screen followed by the date and time of the mirror’s delivery.
“I want to watch you take me.”
“Mm, Buuuuuuuck...” came a sleepy whine from under his arm breaking him out of his thoughts.
He hummed in acknowledgment but hissed when he felt a sharp nip of teeth against his skin.
“Of course you menace,” Bucky chuckles. He closes out his app and turned off his screen before setting the phone back on the bedside table.
“Good boy,” Sam sighs, stroking his chest before settling himself back down to drift off again.
Bucky settles himself too, presses another lingering kiss against Sam's brow, and this time it doesn't take long for him to follow right after.