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Catfish /ˈkatˌfiSH/ - A catfish is someone who pretends to be someone they're not using Facebook or other social media to create false identities, particularly to pursue deceptive online romances.


 

Bucky often makes dating profiles when he gets bored just to boost up his confidence. He’s a good-looking guy and he knows it, but sometimes it’s just nice to see people fawning over him like he’s some damn celebrity. Which, is exactly why he’s sitting here, sipping wine and scrolling through match.com’s most eligible singles.

He clicks the ‘next’ button, preparing to continue his silly search until he gets a little ping and a message up at the top. Someone’s ‘winking’ at him. He opens the note and stifles a laugh when he sees a guy clearly older than him with a receding hairline. “Ignore,” he states before going back to the page before. He takes another sip of wine, clicking his tongue over the tart flavor.

Sniffing, he clicks the ‘next’ page again and bursts out laughing. “The fuck?! Seriously, dude!” He’s chuckling to himself as he clicks the guy’s profile. A picture of Steve Rogers is posted up, all hulking and rippled with muscle. Bucky was not opposed to telling everyone and their mother about his adoration for the Star-Spangled Celebrity. Steve Rogers has made a name for himself out in Hollywood depicting the beloved comic character, Captain America. His movies are instant box office smashes and the guy is a total doll face! Bucky’s a bored college student so he often lurks on twitter to check out what Steve Rogers is tweeting about. Usually, it’s cute banter between Steve and his co-star Sam Wilson (who plays Falcon and Bucky thinks his suit is absolutely sweet).

“Oh my God, this is too rich,” Bucky laughs to himself as he scrolls the profile. “Whoever wrote this is obviously a catfish. He likes shuffleboard, building soapbox cars and fishing? Jesus, are you my grandpa?” Bucky can’t help himself from clicking the pictures. He scans over them, his lips curling into a lustful smile. “Mmm but that chest is so built it hurts.”

He sets his wine down, pulling the laptop into his lap to send this guy a wink. He doesn’t really think too far ahead because if the guy responds, he’s going to have no idea how to handle it, but for now, he’s going to play with this catfisher. “You like fishing?” Bucky asks as he clicks the ‘wink’ option. “Well go fish, daddy.”

Bucky scoffs, still in disbelief that someone would use Steve Rogers’ picture and not realize everyone and their mom would know it wasn’t real. Steve Rogers was said to be dating Sharon Carter– it’s all over the tabloids and while Bucky can’t be 100% sure, Sharon and Steve do have some serious chemistry on the silver screen. Not to mention that Steve seems undeniably straight with his boy next door charm.

He rolls of the bed, draining down his wine and heading for the shower. He’s got Evidence bright and early and if he has to listen to his professor ramble on about hearsay and excited utterances without his beauty sleep, he may just die.

Bucky slips into the shower, shivering as the warm water slips down his body, hugging his contours and edges. He’s not as ripped as Steve Rogers but he’s got a nice six-pack and pretty decent arms if he says so himself. He moves quickly, grabbing the shampoo and scrubbing it through his hair. He can’t believe someone used Steve Rogers’ picture. “How fucking dumb are you?” He stares at the corner of the shower for a minute entertaining the idea that what if it really was Steve Rogers? “Oh fuck whatever,” he grumbles shrugging and not thinking further on it.

After he’s all clean, Bucky plops down on his bed, his hair dripping cool water down his neck. He’s shivering slightly from the fan that he keeps perpetually on in his room. He grabs his computer and opens it back up. He’s lying on his stomach, ankles crossed and swinging lazily in the air, the cool air from the fan tickling over his back.

He instantly goes to match.com. He doesn’t even know why his heart is beating so fast. This guy isn’t real. Steve Rogers is a fancy celebrity with ten cars and mansions and shit. Bucky’s a regular broke-ass college student hoping to God someone’ll hire him at a law firm once he graduates. Guys like Steve Rogers don’t need match.com. Hell, even Bucky Barnes doesn’t need match.com. He’s plenty capable of getting dates at school. He’d even gone on a date with one of his professors from undergrad (not when he was getting his degree). Clearly he was handsome enough for most people. Still, the thrill of seeing who he was able to get was intoxicating and Bucky often enjoyed having late night conversations with people when he felt lonely. Sometimes they’d ask him to come over, but he had standards. Fucking was always reserved for the second date (so he likes sex, sue him).

Licking his lips, he pulls up his messages and frowns when he sees no ‘wink’ back. Sighing, Bucky closes his laptop and rolls off the bed to put on his PJs.


 

“Here on Good Morning America we’ve got the one, the only, Captain Americaaaaaa!” the hostess announces over-enthusiastically as Steve Rogers comes prancing onto the stage, all smiles and waves with those broad shoulders and that fucking chest Bucky would ride for days on. Shit, he’d bury his face against those motherfucking tits.

Rogers of course, looks dazzling. He’s in a red button down and black tie and Bucky pushes his hips down into the sofa to keep from rocking up into the air.

“God, he’s a looker,” someone says behind Bucky.

Bucky turns around to see his roommate, Natasha in the kitchen, pulling out her iced coffee and pouring it into a glass.

“I’d fuck that man until my lips fell off.”

“Your lips?” Bucky asks, cocking a brow.

“Not these, Barnes,” Natasha says as she points to her mouth. She waggles her brow before plopping next to Bucky on the sofa, digging her ice-cold toes into his thigh.

Bucky grimaces, staring at Natasha for a moment before turning back to the screen.

Steve’s taking his seat across from the hostess. His cheeks are flushed and his lips so, so ruby red.

“Your tongue’s on the floor,” Natasha teases, wiggling her cold toes against Bucky.

“Your feet’re freezin’, Nat,” Bucky comments, ignoring her to watch the screen.

“Hello, hello!” Rogers says, nodding along as he speaks. “It’s great to be here. Thank you so much. All of you!” He turns to the audience, blowing a kiss and professing more of his thanks.

“I’m in love,” Bucky states. “I’d fuck him till my lips fell off too.”

Natasha snorts but she says nothing.

“He seems like such a fun guy, ya’know? Like someone who’d take you on a yacht or a spontaneous trip to Iceland.”

“Why do you wanna go to Iceland?” Natasha asks, raising a perfectly manicured brow.

“Skiing?” Bucky questions, shrugging.

“The Alps are for skiing,” Natasha clarifies, rolling her eyes lightly.

“Whatever,” Bucky sulks. “He’s flawless. God, I’d honestly kill to be Sharon Carter.”

Natasha laughs breathily, sipping on her iced coffee. “Then you’d indeed be fucking him till your lips fell off.”

“So Steve, we hear you’ve got another movie lined up, but it’s not Captain America!” the hostess says to the moans of the crowd. “Do you have any plans on returning as Cap?”

Steve’s eyes round as his mouth drops open. He’s looking around at the audience Bucky can see those giant blue eyes and ridiculously long lashes. Bucky’s mouth is watering, imagining Steve looking up from those dark lashes with his mouth curled around Bucky’s cock.

“Of course!” Rogers finally announces. “Cap’s a very near and dear character to me. Ya’know, he’s this honest, good, good man who just wants to protect the world. He’s got a lot of ideals that I really sympathize with and honestly, if Disney wants me, they got me. I’ll keep playing Cap till I can’t get out of bed anymore.”

The crowd cheers for a few seconds. It’s a long enough time that Bucky’s getting nervous they’ll cut to a commercial break but to his relief, they don’t.

“So what ideals do you have that are similar to Captain America’s?” the hostess asks.

Rogers takes a deep breath, his brows knitting together in the most adorable thought-filled face. Bucky’s heart is skipping around his chest like a schoolgirl. “Standing up for what you believe in. Sometimes we’ve gotta make choices between what’s good and what’s right. Those are two different concepts that I think a lot of people kind of mix together. I get a lot comments like, ‘Wow, Cap’s such a goodie-goodie, he’s so boring!’ And everyone’s allowed their opinion, but I don’t think they’ve ever taken the time to really look at the character.

Captain America is complex. He’s a good man, but sometimes doing the right thing and doing what’s good is actually defying orders, or running away from the American government. He’s labeled a fugitive in The Winter Soldier but he’s still out there fighting to make sure HYDRA doesn’t enact their plan. He’s a terrorist suddenly but he’s doing what he believes is good. Does that make him a goodie-goodie? I dunno. But I don’t think so. I think that makes him such a sympathetic character.

We’re always given choices in our daily lives. Left or right. Small, medium or large. And I think Cap represents the embodiment of choice. You have the power to choose what you want, but are you making the good choice or are you just following someone else’s lead? He’s very thought-provoking and I try to live my life the way Cap would. Just honest and good. Standing up for what I believe in.

“Bless him,” Natasha sighs, hugging a pillow.

“Too perfect,” Bucky chimes, listening to the crowd clap so loud he’s surprised no one’s hands are falling off. The cameras turn to show the audience. They’re all standing. Bucky wishes he was in that room right now. He’d kill to meet this guy. Steve Rogers was a gem. Always a gentleman, always a man who spoke out about injustice, inequality, and ignorance. He used his celebrity status as a way to raise awareness, donated large sums of his pay to charity and last Bucky heard, Steve Rogers was giving hugs at the last con he went to despite the security telling him not to.

Bucky wanted to meet this man and just cry to him about how much he loved him.

“You’ve got class, Bucky,” Natasha observes, casually looking over to the clock. “Don’t wanna miss the bus.”

“Ah shit,” Bucky groans as he looks at his phone. “Fuck this. You’re recording this right?”

“Do I ever not record Steve Rogers?”

“Uh, no?” Bucky attempts at answering, his face twisting up in confusion.

Natasha laughs at him, dryly flicking her wrist to shoo Bucky off. “Go learn something!”


 

Bucky gets settled into his seat before lecture and pulls out his laptop. His fingers graze over the cool keys as he waits for it to boot up. He should be pulling up his notes from last class but no, he was pulling up the internet and logging into match.com.

With an amused eye roll at himself, Bucky pulled up his messages, grimacing when once again– there were no winks. “What the fuck, Catfish!” he grumbled.

“Huh?” the student next to him says.

Bucky looks up when his mouth drops open. “Oh. N-not you Matt.” Matt Murdock’s blind and Bucky has never quite mastered how to interact with his fellow law student. “I’m on…it’s well it’s stupid.”

Matt smiles, looking straight ahead at a world he cannot see. Bucky always feels guilty for wondering what that must be like. He heard that sometimes the blind have trouble sleeping because their world is always dark. That was unimaginable to Bucky. He loved sleep as much as he loved seeing the sun’s rays spill into his room to wake him.

“Try me,” Matt presses.

Bucky runs his hands through his hair, accidentally pulling a lock from his bun. “Uh, I’m on this…dating site. It’s dumb. A person’s using Steve Rogers’ pictures and I thought it’d be funny to send them a ‘wink.’ Winks are like, when you wanna start a conversation basically.”

Matt nods, his lips curling into an amused grin. “Sounds interesting. So you try to fish the Catfish?”

Bucky laughs breathily, nodding. “Yeah, I guess so. I guess I just think it’s so hilarious this person’s that dumb. But they never sent me a wink back…so.”

Matt’s face falls into a pout as he clicks his tongue. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Pff, don’t be. It’s just probably some desperate guy wanting little boys or something. I’m probably too old for him.”

“You should report them then. Couldn’t that hurt someone?”

Bucky hadn’t thought of that. He nods, forgetting that Matt can’t see him. “Uh, yeah. Yeah that’s a good idea actually.” Bucky turns his attention back to the front of the room, watching the professor take his place at the podium at the base level. Bucky sighs, checking his messages one last time to still see no wink.

Why does he care so much about a catfisher? It’s not actually Steve Rogers.


 

Bucky gets home around 6PM. He’s tired and cranky from having to sit next to overly large men on the bus and he really hates his legal writing professor, but other than that, he’s happy the day’s over. Matt’s words had stuck with him all day. It was true, perhaps the catfisher really was someone dangerous and targeting people who weren’t able to protect themselves.

Bucky slips into his room, licking at his lips obsessively, plopping onto the bed and tugging his laptop from his book bag. He lies back, watching it boot up.

“Knock, knock,” Natasha lilts from the doorway. “Have a good day at school?”

“What do you want?” Bucky shoots back, an unamused scowl on his face.

“Why do you think I want something?”

“You asked me how school was. You hate talking about law school.”

Natasha chuckles, leaning on the doorframe. “Fine. You got me. I need some money. I’m going out tonight, and I don’t wanna take the bus.”

“Seriously? Didn’t you get paid like, a week ago?” Bucky inquires, his brows shooting up his face.

“Yeah but that was last week. C’mon, Buckster. Do you really want me getting assaulted on a bus? You know how many cases a year where girls get–”

“Okay, okay!” Bucky exclaims giving in. Natasha doesn’t often ask for money, so in truth, Bucky shouldn’t be pissed. And really, he’s not pissed. Maybe a little miffed because she was paid last week and blew it all on God knows what, but Bucky’s pretty sure most of his irritability has to do with the catfisher. Bucky knows the guy isn’t really Steve Rogers, but he can’t shake the sting of rejection anyway. Someone out there thought Bucky wasn’t good enough for them.

Call Bucky a bit conceited, but he’s not used to that.

“Thanks,” Natasha chimes as she grabs the twenty from Bucky’s outstretched hand and spins on her heel. “Don’t wait up! I’ll be back like, hella late!”

“Right-o,” Bucky drawls, going back to his laptop. He refreshes his messages once more and to his surprise, he has a wink– from the Catfish. “Oh my God!”

Out of morbid curiosity, Bucky instantly opens the chat and types away.

BB: What the hell is Steve Rogers doing on a dating site?!

He sits there, watching the three little dots that pop up each time someone’s writing come up, then go away, pop back up again, then go back away. Whatever this person is saying, they’re struggling to say it.

SR: Uh, attempting to meet new people? Sometimes it’s hard in my line of work.

Bucky rolls his eyes. So this guy knows Rogers is a real celebrity. He’s going to play the part and will eventually ask to set up a meeting with Bucky, and Bucky’s going to call him out on his bullshit, but not a moment sooner. Right now, it’s a little oddly amusing. So he’ll play along for now.

BB: Sharon too clingy, huh? She’s got such a sweet ass tho.

SR: We’re not dating.

Bucky sucks in his lips, staring at those words. There’s so much certainty there, as if this person has secret information on Steve Rogers. Bucky snorts at himself. “I need a glass of wine for this.” He tumbles from his bed, trudging into the small hall and out into the living room and kitchen. The apartment is small and dainty, but for two people and how deep it is in Brooklyn, they got it for a steal. He pours himself a glass of wine and decides to take the whole bottle into his room. “This is gonna be a long night, and I’m a fucking law student– I deserve to get drunk every now and then talking to random strangers on the internet.”

He walks back into his room, plopping back down with a woosh and sees “Steve” has said something else.

SR: Talking about her “ass” like that is probably a little weird though, if I were her boyfriend. JSYK.

“This fucker has a sense of humor!” Bucky laughs out, leaning forward to type back.

BB: Oh ya? You’d defend her honor? Come fight me, brah! ( •̀_•́)

SR: Put em up! Q–(’̀-’̀Q )

BB: OMG, you did not just challenge me to a fight me emoticon battle.

SR: Idk. Did I? ¯\_( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) -]—-

BB: OMGGG! You did NOT just do that!

SR: . . ¤ =[] ————

BB: WTFFFF!

Bucky reaches for his wine glass and takes a gulp. He’s laughing too much already. Steve Rogers or not, this guy is funny, or at least so far. “Let’s see how you do with some more serious talk then.” He scoots back on his bed, resting up against the pillows and plopping his laptop on his lap. Clicking his toes together he happily types away the next sentence:

BB: So, if she’s your girlfriend then why’re you on match??

SR: Because she’s not my girlfriend and I told you. Sometimes it’s hard to meet people in my line of work.

BB: Just so we’re clear, you’re line of work is…???

SR: I’m an actor. You seem to know this.

“Oh you’re loving this,” Bucky comments to himself. He licks his lips, getting them nice and wet before responding.

BB: Wanna know what I do?

SR: Says you’re a law student. Do you have a job too?

BB: Fuck no! I’d kill myself! Do you know how hard law school is?!?!?!

SR: Can’t say that I do. That tough huh?

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Stop patronizing me, Catfish.” He leans over to take a swig of his wine.

BB: It’s murder. Premeditated. Calm, cool, killing. Did you know that not all states have “degrees” of murder? Some have simply just murder and manslaughter?

SR: Did you know that method actors experience sleep paralysis?

BB: Did you know that owls aren’t really wise?

SR: And you just saved a lot of money by switching to GEICO?

BB: Get out of my head, man!!

SR: You were quoting a GEICO commercial! How was I NOT supposed to be in it!?

BB: So what’s your favorite thing to do ;)

SR: I made a model motor boat and like taking it to ponds and watching it.

BB: That’s not what I was talking about.

SR: I know ;)

“You cheeky bastard,” Bucky analyzes, a smug grin on his face. He didn’t expect this catfish to be so fun to talk to. Perhaps it was his projection of the real Steve Rogers making this that much more thrilling but Bucky was already pouring himself a second glass of wine and he planned to have a good time tonight.

BB: Tell me your darkest secret.


 

When Bucky wakes, he finds himself upside-down atop his bed with a dried streak of spit against his mouth where he’d drooled on himself all night and an empty bottle of wine was resting by his wrist that was tossed casually over the bed.

Sitting up, he groans pathetically, feeling his brain throb intensely against his skull. “Christ, no more wine for me.” He shuffles off the bed, rubbing at his eyes. Making his way to the bathroom, he thinks back on the night. He’d stayed up till around 3AM talking to the catfish. They talked mostly about funny stuff. Mainly flirted and Bucky found himself flirting back. He knows it’s not really Steve but part of him can’t help but picture the actor, all broad and healthy sitting at his computer, happily typing away to Bucky.

Bucky mewls pathetically as he gets to the bathroom and accidentally knocks the toilet seat down too fast. It clatters loudly, echoing into the room like a glass breaking. Instead of lifting it back up, Bucky just aims his stream a bit more carefully.

He turns around, turning the faucet on to spray cool water at his face.

“Rough night?” Natasha asks from the doorway.

“You’re creepy, you know that?” Bucky observes. He finishes up scrubbing at his face before grabbing his toothbrush. “Si’rent a’ a gooft.”

“As a ghost?” Natasha blinks a few times, her dainty brows furrowing between her eyes. “What did you do all night?”

“Hung out here,” Bucky says after spitting out toothpaste. “Have fun at the club?”

“Sure did,” Natasha replies, her lips tugging into a proud smile. “You should’a been there. Lot of hot guys.”

“I’ll survive,” Bucky comments. He moves past Natasha to go down the hall. Part of him wants to tell her about the catfish, but the other part enjoyed last night. If he tells her, she’d try to make him see reason and he knows what he’s doing is wrong but really, what’s the harm in having some fun? As long as he doesn’t go off and try to see this guy, he’s perfectly safe. It’s not like the catfish can figure out where Bucky lives. Bucky’s got a ton of IP blocking tech and stuff ‘cause Natasha is paranoid.

Natasha gives him this scrutinizing look, one brow raised on her forehead and the other pressing against her eye. She looks positively unconvinced.

“Dude, chill. I’m good. I went on a date, what, two weeks ago? I’m not celibate. Don’t worry.”

She rolls her eyes, sighing heavily. “Whatever. But you should come out next time. Gotta make sure you don’t turn into one of those weird law school drones.” She reaches out, pinching his cheeks lightly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky responds, waving a dismissive hand, lightly flicking her off him. “I think I’m skipping class today. I feel like shit.” He trudges back from the bathroom and falls into his bed. He curls up into the blankets and looks at his computer. He doesn’t know why he cares so much if he’s gotten any more messages from the catfish. The guy isn’t really Steve Rogers. Bucky’s heart squeezes in his chest, twisting and coiling in on itself until he’s left feeling like he’s spinning. He sits up, pulling his computer into his lap and boots it up.

“He’s just a catfish, Barnes. Get it together.”  But he finds himself going back to the guy’s profile. He finds himself reading about shuffleboard, building soapbox racecars and how he loves reading poetry backwards instead of forwards (finds the meaning more impactful apparently). He reads how this guy likes broccoli but hates asparagus. Apparently he just wants to find a real companion who doesn’t care about who he is on the big screen but who he is as a person. “I really should report you,” he says to the computer screen. “I’ll bet you’re talking to everyone who’s stupid enough to send you a wink.”

And Bucky considers himself one of those stupid ones because for all his knowledge of who this catfish really is– Bucky still finds himself extremely excited when he sees he’s got an unread message from him.


 

BB: Elton John or Eric Clapton?

SR: Are you trying to kill me? That’s impossible!

BB: You gotta!

SR: Fine. Elton John.

BB: GASP! Traitor!

SR: AHAHA YOU BETRAYED ME WHEN YOU PICKED THE ROLLING STONES OVER THE BEATLES!

BB: 2 words, brah. Mick Jagger’s hhhhiiiipppsssssssssss

SR: I’m fairly sure that’s more than two words.

BB: hhhhiiiippppsssssssssssss

Bucky tries to type silently as he sits in his lecture hall. Luckily the teacher is yammering on and Bucky can look like he’s taking notes. Still, he keeps looking over his shoulder and around him just to make sure no one is creeping on his conversation. It’s not like anyone would know who he was talking to, but he’s still a bit embarrassed. If anyone finds out he’s talking to the catfish, he’s pretty sure he’d be mocked. The only people he can really trust about it are Matt and Foggy. Maybe Karen, but she never takes any of the same classes as Bucky.

SR: Do you wanna talk on the phone sometime?

Bucky is pretty sure he’s experiencing a heart attack. Gasping, his eyes desperately looking around when people are giving him strange looks. Waving his hand at them, he goes to staring back at his computer screen. The catfish wants to talk on the phone with him? Bucky chews at his lip, his gaze shifting around the room to make sure no one is reading what the catfish said.

BB: Really?

SR: I mean, if you’re comfortable. I don’t wanna pressure you or anything.

Bucky rolls his eyes. Of course this guy would say that. That’s what they always say. Catfish do one thing and one thing only, they build trust and make a poor sap fall for them. Bucky has to be smart about this. He has to remember his wits and that this guy is not Steve Rogers.

BB: Sure. Why not? Give me your number and I’ll call you.

SR: 555-741-9180

BB: Low key excited about having Steve Rogers’ number. You sure you wanna trust me? I could be some crazy serial killer.

SR: Uh. I’m pretty sure serial killers don’t get drunk in their rooms alone (on wine) on school nights. They probably stay out killing. Probably.

BB: You’re such a sassy little shit!

Bucky’s laughing. He hates himself for loving to talk to this guy. Each response his heart is fluttering in his chest like its drunk on helium. Each ping of his phone (after installing the match.com app on it) he’s a bundle of nervous joy. He knows this guy is a catfish, but he can’t help but associate him with Steve Rogers. The real Steve with those beautiful abs and delectable chest…

And oh God that mouth, sweet as sin and red as a vixen’s boots. Bucky would worship that mouth. Dart his tongue along its curves and slip inside to that hot, warm mouth and–

“Barnes? Will you take the next case?” the professor asks.

Bucky blinks, shifting around in his seat. He looks to Foggy a few rows ahead of him as the man frantically points to a certain page in the case book.

“Sure,” Bucky says, standing up and peering down to his neighbor to get the page number. He forgot to read last night. “So…in International Shoe…”


 

Bucky collapses into his bed. After a rigorous day of being drilled in the proverbial ass by professors, all he wants now is a hot bath, a good fuck and Steve Rogers’ tits in his face. Speaking of Steve Rogers, Bucky leans over and picks his laptop out of his back pack. He flips it on and pulls up his messages. Nothing. Bucky was almost disappointed before he remembers he has the guy’s number.

Panic surges through him, chilling his veins and making him feel heavy. Should he call him? Bucky has seen enough interviews and the Cap movies to know what Rogers sounds like, but what if this guy had a voice manipulator? Would that make this worse? Bucky admits he is enjoying his conversations with the catfish. The guy is funny and well-mannered. They have a lot in common (though Bucky isn’t sure that’s just the guy trying to get Bucky to want to meet him) and he even sounds like Steve (well in terms of typing as Bucky hasn’t heard his voice yet) when Bucky pisses him off (playfully of course). Sometimes, the catfish will go on long tangents about racism or gender inequality. Bucky sits back and just watches all the magic happen. It’s so easy to forget this is a catfish and not Steve Rogers.

And really, how foolish does this guy think Bucky really is? Bucky isn’t desperate. That’s why he’s not sending a dick picture (not that he would anyway, that’s stupid) and he never talks about sex really with the catfish. It’s all playful banter and silliness. Still, sometimes when they get serious, it’s so easy for Bucky to just close his eyes and imagine this man actually as Steve Rogers. He hates to admit it– but he’d be falling for this guy if he wasn’t so blatantly a false identity.

But Bucky has his number.

Bucky rolls over onto his stomach, grabbing his phone before rolling back over and punching in the numbers. He waits for a few rings and then:

“Hello?”

Bucky’s eyes go wide. He sounds similar to Steve Rogers. It’s a phone, so Bucky can’t be entirely sure but this guy is either really good at impersonating Rogers or maybe…

No. That’s foolish. Why would Steve Rogers actually make a dating page?

“Hey, Steve! It’s Bucky. I can call you Steve, right? Since we met off a dating site.”

There’s a shuffling and Bucky swears he hears a door slam. “Uh, yeah, Steve’s fine.”

“Bad time?” Bucky asks, cocking a brow. He’s swinging his feet in the air lazily, ankles crossed and knees pressed into his pillows.

“Uh no. No it’s okay. I’ve got a little time. I just wasn’t expecting–”

“Too soon?” Bucky interrupts. His heart is weighing against his chest awkwardly and he suddenly can’t really breathe right so he sits up, crossing his legs. “I mean, you gave me your number so…?” He shouldn’t be this upset. He shouldn’t care this much about a catfish. This isn’t Steve Rogers. This isn’t the man of Bucky’s dreams, no matter how much Bucky wishes it was but damn it feels good to think there’s that slight possibility. Bucky can’t help but feel the sting of panic and rejection when the catfish clearly is caught off-guard. Or maybe that’s why he sounds like this. Maybe he was caught off-guard and now he can’t sound exactly like Steve Rogers. Maybe Bucky is just getting more evidence that this guy is just some creep and not Steve Rogers.

“No, I know that!” Steve exclaims, his voice going up an octave. “I’m happy to hear from you, Bucky.”

“You’re backtracking,” Bucky defends. He’s not over the sting of feeling rejected but he can at least try to joke around. That’s what they do mostly anyway. “Don’t wanna hurt my feelings?”

“No, I really don’t wanna hurt your feelings,” Steve laughs. “How was your day?”

Bucky falls back against his pillows, lifting his legs up into the air and swirling his ankles around. He didn’t realize he put two different socks on this morning. “Eh. I got nailed in my Civ Pro class.”

“Nailed, huh?”

‘You sick fuck…’

“I didn’t read for class so I was floundering around. Pretty sure the prof knew.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Steve replies. “My day’s still going on. I’ve been in a few contract meetings working on some new deals.”

“Oh yeah? Gonna reprise Cap soon?”

Steve laughs, it’s light and airy and it sends a zing of lust down into Bucky’s cock. He hates that he likes this guy so much. He knows this is exactly why people fall for catfish. Because they make it so easy to fall for them. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Of course a catfish would say that, because he doesn’t know any better than Bucky,and he doesn’t want to blow his cover. Typical. Bucky drops his feet onto the bed, bouncing from the impact as he clicks his tongue. “Do you think Cap will ever get a sex scene? I mean, I’ve been following your movies for awhile and you never have sex scenes.”

Steve barks out a laugh. He sounds like he had to put a hand over his mouth because he suddenly goes muffled. “Wow, aren’t you spirited.”

“I prefer passionate. I’m very passionate about your tits.”

“Tits?”

“I mean chest,” Bucky corrects, his brows shooting up his forehead. He feels heat enter his cheeks as a wave of embarrassment washes over his chest. “Sorry. Chest.”

“You think I’ve got tits?”

Bucky stands up, unable to sit still now that he’s got a rush of adrenaline pumping through him. “Uh, I mean, have you seen your chest? It’s all chiseled and big and stuff.”

“Big and stuff,” Steve repeats, sounding warm and amused. Bucky likes talking to this guy, even if he’s not really Steve. He’s still easy to talk to and funny.  

“So…think I can ever get that sex scene?” Bucky challenges, feeling particularly fired up. He doesn’t know why he’s backing this conversation into a corner like this but his blood is hot and he can’t help the way his dick is tingling in his gym shorts. It’s so easy to talk to this guy. His voice is smooth and melodic and if Bucky closes his eyes and thinks about Steve, he can practically see him saying what the catfish is. It’s so easy to get lost in the dream when it’s the one thing Bucky craves more than anything else.

Steve chuckles darkly, a puff of breath whooshing into the phone receiver. “Maybe, but it may not be on screen.”

Bucky’s mouth drops open as it spreads into the largest smile. This guy is flirting with him now, definitely flirting and overly sexual about it. Bucky’s loving this. He doesn’t care if it’s a catfish. It feels good to hear this, just a silent confirmation that Bucky’s not worthless. Well, he knows he’s not worthless. He knows he’s handsome but sometimes it’s easy to forget. Sometimes it’s just nice to hear from someone else.

Before Bucky can say something, he hears someone mumbling in the background near Steve. He hears Steve cover the phone and probably pulls it away from his face too. Steve’s talking to someone about being therein a few minutes and then he’s back on the phone with Bucky saying, “I’ve gotta go. Told you my day’s not over?”

“I remember,” Bucky replies, slumping into his desk chair.

“I’ll text you. Okay? It was nice hearing your voice, Bucky.”

“Yeah, you too Steve,” Bucky says sadly as he hangs up the phone. He drops his head onto the desk and groans at himself. This was supposed to be about Bucky tricking the catfish and yet here he is, his heart heavy and rejected and his cock hard.

This guy could have one green rotten tooth and the fattest cheeks Bucky has ever seen for all he knew! Yet that didn’t stop Bucky from wrapping his fingers around his cock, leaning back and thinking of Steve Rogers.


 

Bucky obsessively checks the news. He looks at twitter, tumblr, Instagram, all the places that often report on Steve’s whereabouts. He finds some candid pictures of Steve out in California a few days ago but that’s not what he’s searching for. He gets off tumblr and clicks on over to Instagram where he promptly looks up Steve’s profile.

Sighing, he scrolls through the pictures he’s already seen. He doesn’t know why he’s doing this anyway. The catfish isn’t Steve Rogers. Steve Rogers has no idea Bucky Barnes exists. Bucky hates when he feels like this. He hates when it feels like there’s a little monster chewing against his heart and weighing it down. He hates suddenly feeling very mortal and very stuck in his life. Steve Rogers will never know he exists. Steve Rogers will never look at him or smile at him. Bucky will go through his entire life being a no one and Steve will live this life of luxury and larger-than-life status and it just sucks because Bucky is a good person. He’s going to a good school, he’s a smart guy and relatively nice. He’s not weird or creepy (okay so he may be a little weird because he’s stalking Steve Rogers something fierce right now) but he’s a good guy. Logically, there’d be no reason for Steve to not like him if they met. But they’ll never meet. Even if they do, Steve will be a professional and smile for a camera, probably sign some shit and then Bucky would never meet him again.

He hates that he starts crying that night.


 

Bucky backs off the catfish. They’ve been texting almost constantly and have had a few phone conversations. Bucky’s always the one calling first, which is also weird considering catfish are usually the ones jumping at the opportunity to have the attention of those they target. Bucky doesn’t even know why he’s always calling. It’s fun to pretend. It’s fun to indulge in a fantasy and make jokes about Steve Rogers and his tits, listening to the reaction of the man who claims to be Steve Rogers.

But it’s gotten to the point where it just hurts too much. Bucky’s falling for a man who isn’t Steve Rogers and whenever Bucky sees a picture of Steve or sees his twitter is updated, Bucky just cries because it’s not about him. It’s not about how he’s making Steve feel and it’s because Steve isn’t really talking to Bucky and that just hurts.

So Bucky backs off. He doesn’t call the catfish for a week. He responds to the texts with a few words and he never jokes back. He’s balls deep in a civ pro outline when his phone rings.

Bucky winces, looking at the name CATFISH flashing on the screen. He picks up the phone on the fourth ring. “Hey Steve.”

“You okay?” Steve asks.

Bucky leans back from his outline and presses his toes against the surface of his desk. “I’ve just been really busy with school. Exams are coming up.”

“Ew, that sounds gross.”

“Did you ever get so nervous about something you thought you were gonna puke?” Bucky inquires, hating how much he’s feeling happier just from knowing that his catfish called him.

“Every audition ever. Why?”

“That’s how I feel about exams. I’ve kinda fallen behind on some shit. Got a little…preoccupied.”

“Oh yeah? Anything I can do to help?”

“Ha!” Bucky chimes. “Unless you know the rules of Evidence and Constitutional Law then I think you’re no use to me.”

“No use?!” Steve exclaims, pretending to sound utterly hurt. “I could help you study!”

“Oh yeah? How?”

“We could make a game out of it. Email me your notes and I can make some small tests for you to take.”

“Steve, I think you’re missing the point of games. Games are fun. That doesn’t sound fun.” Bucky swings around in his chair, slipping from his bedroom and into the short hall before turning into the kitchen. He looks over at Natasha who’s sitting on the sofa watching How To Get Away With Murder. Bucky rolls his eyes. He hates that show. Law school isn’t that exciting.

“I’ll send you a picture for every answer you get right.”

“Oh?” Bucky halts as he snags some chips off the top of the refrigerator. “Pictures of what?”

“Depends on how hard the question is,” Steve answers, his voice getting husky.

Bucky shivers as he walks back over to his room and closes the door. “Wanna do this now?”

“Email me your notes and give me fifteen minutes,” Steve says.

Bucky licks his lips obsessively, frantically typing away at his computer to send his documents over to Steve. “Okay…sending…now!”

“Imma hang up. I’ll email you the test. Just send it back to me when you’re done.”

“So, what kinda pictures are we talking about here?” Bucky asks, his lips curled into a smile. His cock is already engorging and he’s trying so hard not to touch himself already. He knows this guy isn’t really Steve, but he’s sending pictures. He’s curious. What kind of pictures would a guy like this be sending? Stock photos of Steve off google? No, he had to be smarter than that. This was going to be interesting.

“Easy questions you get pictures of my feet and legs. Medium questions you get pictures of my chest and stomach.”

“And hard questions?” Bucky asks, tugging his teeth over his lower lip.

“Those questions won’t be the only thing that’s hard.”

Bucky lets out a soft puff of air. He hears Steve laugh so he knows he heard him but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t even care this is a catfish. This game sounds fun and Bucky’s entirely too excited about getting to see some of his catfish’s body. Maybe he’s not so bad? Maybe the guy’s just bored and is relatively decent looking. Bucky wouldn’t mind that. Once the guy tells him, they could work it out.

“I’m hanging up now,” Bucky says, breathless.

“I’ll email you the test. Get ready.”

Bucky whines when he hangs up. What’s he thinking? They could work it out?! Catfish don’t work anything out! They either kidnap, murder, molest or are just general disappointments. Or they never show up and ruin someone’s life. Bucky isn’t a child, so he knows this guy isn’t a pedophile, but that doesn’t exactly cross out murderers or rapists. Bucky knows he shouldn’t trust this guy. He knows he needs to be smart but right now this game sounds so fun and Bucky’s just so damn curious.

He paces his room for a bit, feeling his cock heat up and press against the seam of his sweats. He doesn’t touch himself. He can’t. Regardless of Steve or not, this person is making up a test for Bucky and he does really need to study. He can jerk off later. Right now he needs to do his schoolwork.

He lunges at the computer when he hears the little ding to signify he’s gotten an email. Pulling up the test, Bucky reads it over and begins going to work. There’s a lot of easy questions, Bucky partly wonders if the guy intentionally put a ton of easy questions so he just had to take pictures of his feet. Chewing his lips, Bucky wonders if there’s some pictures of Steve Rogers’ feet on the internet he can compare them to.

Bucky finishes the test and sends it back to Steve. He sits at his desk, swinging from side to side in his chair as he waits. He’s excited, he can’t help it. Any bit of information on his catfish he’d gladly take and drink up. There’s really no use lying to himself anymore. He’s been dicking around with this guy for a month now and Bucky hasn’t even gone out to a single bar since the first night they started talking. He’s got it bad for his catfish.

“Christ,” Bucky moans, scrubbing his fingers against his face. “How’d I become this person?”

He gets another email which causes him to straighten up in his chair. He pulls open the document to see the corrections and the cute little messages next to the ones he got right (apparently someone decided to look up law jokes because next to the right ones were little pickup lines).

How about I purposefully avail myself in your jurisdiction?

Boy, I’ve got a preexisting duty to make you cum laude.

Let’s discuss what a reasonably prudent person would do in the position I want to put you in.

Then his phone starts chiming. Bucky lunges over, still laughing from all the jokes Steve wrote next to the ones he got correct. He pulls open the first attachment. It’s a picture of Steve’s ankles. He peers at the picture, seeing the hairs around the leg. He can’t quite make out if they’re blonde or brown though. He’s never really gotten close to Steve Rogers’ leg hairs before even on social media and he’s not about to stoop that low right now so he waits for the next one.

His phone chimes again and when he opens it, it’s a picture of curved biceps and one pectoral muscle. Bucky moans, rocking his hips up softly as he stared at the picture. The lighting is mostly the same from the picture of the ankle so Bucky assumes it’s really this guy, but he can’t be entirely too sure and he has to err on the side of caution. But still, this body was hot.

He gets two more pictures of taut, washboard abs and several more pictures of feet and a shot of calves (this guy didn’t skip leg day).

Bucky sighs as he realizes he’s gotten all the pictures to the questions he got right. The ones he got wrong would forever be without a picture.

BB: Again??

SR: Sure. I’ll make up another test. How you feelin’ over there? ;)

BB: You’re a tease. -_-

SR: Those are the best kind tho. We’re so rewarding when you finally get us.

BB: Please just put hard questions on the next one. I’m bound to get at LEAST one right.

SR: Oh ho ho! Someone’s anxious.

BB: To see Steve Rogers’ dick? Fuck yeah I am.

SR: I never said I was sending you dick pics!

BB: You made the “hard” joke!! That’s a dick implication! And then you’re sending me law pick up lines! (which are all sexual!!)

SR: I was going to send you a picture of my back. That’s a HARD to get picture by myself.

BB: I hate you. Send me another test you shithead.

SR: You’re gonna ace this exam. I’ve got faith.

BB: I’ll ace it if you give me a dick pic.

SR: So polite too!

They do a few more rounds of exams before Bucky’s whimpering and squirming in his seat. Whoever the pictures are of, the guy is beautifully sculpted and Bucky even caves to compare the chest to Steve Rogers’. They look pretty damn spot on, but Bucky can’t be too sure it’s even real. Pictures are easily manipulated and again, there’s the whole, ‘why would Steve Rogers be on Match.com?’ thing.

That aside, Bucky’s legs are still shaking and his cock is leaking against his sweatpants. Whining, he grabs his phone and dials Steve’s number.

“Want more?” Steve asks.

“I…” Bucky begins. His eyes round in cold shock as he realizes why he’s called. He’s already palming over his cock through his pants and he can’t hide his jagged breath from the phone but he doesn’t know how to ask this. “I need…”

“You need what, Bucky?” Steve searches, his voice soft and indulgent.

Bucky groans, infuriated that Steve knows why he’s calling but he’s forcing Bucky to say it aloud. He circles his palm over his tip through the fabric again, letting out a sharp gasp.

“Tell me what you need, Bucky,” Steve instructs.

Bucky closes his eyes. He hates himself right now. He’s on the phone with a catfish and his dick is hard as the densest material on the planet. This guy isn’t Steve, but Bucky has so much fun talking to him and those pictures were still hot, even if his face wasn’t in them. It’s suspicious why there wasn’t a face but Bucky already knows the answer and what should shock him is that it doesn’t matter to him. He knows this isn’t real but he loves playing along just as much as the catfish probably loves talking to Bucky. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement and Bucky can’t hold back anymore.

“I’m so hard,” Bucky professes, his voice straining as shame and desire lace together in harmony against it. “I need you to…talk to me.”

Steve takes a deep breath and for half a second Bucky is terrified he’s going to back out. “Okay. I’ll talk to you, Bucky.”

Bucky slips his fingers beneath his waistband, grabbing his dick and stroking it a few times, indulging in the sensation that swirls into his stomach as he thumbs over his tip. “Do you think I’m pretty, Stevie?”

Steve laughs. Bucky whines in response.

“Yes, Bucky. I think you’re really pretty.”

“Wanna touch me?” Bucky asks softly, rocking up into his fist. He doesn’t want to come just yet but his body is on fire with a mix of mangled and terrified emotions. He’s excited, so happy and terrified. He’s thrilled but so upset. He’s turned on and utterly disgusted. He loves this but hates himself. This is a God damned catfish and here he is begging to have phone sex with the guy.

“All over,” Steve replies, his voice lower and seductive. “Wanna run my fingers down your back, cup your ass and squeeze it.”

Bucky moans, dropping his head back as he pumps faster. The fabric’s getting in the way and he keeps feeling his cockhead push against it to smear the precome around. It’s not good enough like this. Growling, he stands up and tilts his head to the side to steady the phone as he drops his sweats so he’s standing there with just his shirt on now. He steps out of his pants and plops down onto his bed.

“You still with me?” Steve inquires, his breathing now jagged.

“Yeah, Stevie. M’with you,” Bucky whines, palming over his tip and thrusting up into his touch. “Wanna feel you too. Want you to grab my ass and pull my cheeks open and lick me.”

“Yeah? You’d like that?”

“Love gettin’ eaten out, Stevie. And if it’s you…” Bucky’s breath hitches as he bows his spine to push up into his hand. “If it’s you, it’d feel so good. Bet you’re so good at it.”

“Oh, fuck, Bucky,” Steve growls. Bucky’s damn sure this guy’s touching himself now too. Good, Bucky didn’t want to be the only one. “Wanna eat that pretty little hole out so badly. Get my face pressed up against your ass, nibble at your cheeks.”

Bucky moans loudly, a long vibrato that he doesn’t bother to hide from Natasha. He sucks in a breath, grinding his teeth together as he continues to stroke at himself. His cock is so red in his hand and he knows when he comes it’s going to get all over but he doesn’t care. Steve, no, the catfish’s voice is so beautiful right now and he’s saying everything that Bucky wants to hear. It’s so easy to slip into the illusion, and Bucky needs it. He needs this illusion because what else does he have? The mundane day-to-day law school grind? The hour long bus ride to and from school? The boring, repetitive friends who only go to bars and the occasional drunken fuck? Is it wrong of Bucky to want more? To want to be cared for and spoiled rotten? Is it wrong to wish that someone as amazing as Steve would actually look at him– not just as a fan but a real person?

“Steve,” Bucky cries out, biting his lip. “Steve, m’close. M’so close.”

“Me too, Buck,” Steve rasps back. “God, you sound so beautiful.”

You’re so beautiful,” Bucky shoots back. “Your body’s so perfect and I want it all over me. Want you in me.”

Steve howls out a moan.

“Want your dick in me, Steve. Wanna be all filled and marked by you.”

“God, Bucky,” Steve hisses. “Fuck you’re so perfect.”

“Want you to be real,” Bucky whines, a simple slip, as he presses his thumb beneath his tip, squeezing just right to watch his tip go from red to purple. “Fuck!”

“I am real Bucky,” Steve groans back. “Wanna…wanna meet you. Face to face.”

Bucky’s heart breaks because he wants this too. He wants to walk up to his catfish and throw his arms around him. Wants to kiss his face and not think twice that it doesn’t look like Steve Rogers. Bucky’s fallen more and more for a guy who he’s made up mostly in his head, but he’s real. That is true. This man is real. He’s stroking himself right now and gasping and huffing into the phone just like Bucky.

“Fuck,” Bucky breathes out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck I’m gonna come.”

“Come then,” Steve urges. “Come for me, baby. Moan so loud and pretty for me, Buck. Fuck, come on baby, fuck your pretty hand over your beautiful cock for me.”

With Steve’s husky-velveteen voice, Bucky finds himself pushed over the edge. His vision flashes white as he clamps his eyes shut, fucking his fist over his cock as fast as he can, feeling his balls clamp up and push against his cock. He cries out, squeezing a bit at his cockhead as he pumps his fist back and forth. “Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve, fuck, fuck, Steve!”

He’s coming and it’s volatile and intense. It’s down in his toes and rocking through his core and coiling around his spine. It’s searing back into his brain and pushing against his eyes. He howls, long and pitchy as he comes, hearing Steve’s voice moan into the receiver. God, he wishes this was real. He wishes this man was Steve Rogers. It’d be hot and perfect but honestly, Bucky could be okay with his catfish too. He’s made him so happy over the past month and that’s really all a relationship is supposed to be about, right? Happiness? Love?

Bucky’s muscles go pliant as he slows his hand. He doesn’t want to open his eyes and break the illusion. Steve’s still moaning into the phone, whispering Bucky’s name over and over and about how badly he wants to meet him finally.

And Bucky wants that too. He wants to meet his catfish just as badly. He’s not thinking about getting murdered or raped or kidnapped. He’s thinking about how much he’s come to care for his catfish and how this man has made him laugh. He’s thinking about how they’ve opened up to each other in small, short bursts but when they have, it’s been beautiful. They’re so similar and Bucky’s not sure if that’s the catfish being good at what he does or if this guy’s just lonely and needed to talk to someone about how he really feels.

He finally opens his eyes, looking down at the streams of white over his belly and up to his chest. He’s breathing loudly, panting from how intense his orgasm was and smiling dumbly as he listens to Steve’s breathing too.

“Was that good for you too?” Bucky teases, laughing at his stupid joke.

“Yeah,” Steve sighs out. “Fuck, Bucky… I never thought…”

“Don’t,” Bucky interrupts. “Don’t play me that song. I know what this is.”

“What’dyou mean? Know what this is?”

Bucky pulls the phone away to tug his shirt off so he’s sitting atop his bed naked. Shivering slightly, he pulls his knees against his chest, wrapping his other arm around his legs for warmth. “It’s just a stupid dating site.”

“And your point?”

Bucky doesn’t want to say it. He doesn’t want to ruin the illusion, so he won’t. He backpedals, smiling against the phone receiver. “Yeah, sorry. I just thought that you weren’t serious about me.”

“I mean, I’m serious about getting to know you. I’ve liked what we’ve talked about so far. You’re really easy to just…be myself with.”

“A perpetual tease with a sassy-side-streak?” Bucky details.

Steve laughs. Bucky can practically hear the eye roll. “Yeah, whatever you said.”

Bucky snorts, rolling off his bed to search for a new pair of sweats. “So, uh…if you feel like makin’ more of those tests, just email them to me? I think they’re helping.”

“Sure thing,” Steve says before huffing out a sigh. “Uh, look. I…I’ve gotta go. This was…”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky blurts, his eyes already stinging with tears. “I didn’t mean to pressure you into this.”

“You didn’t pressure me,” Steve explains. “I’m a big boy. I can protect myself. But I do hafta go. I’m three hours behind you and my day’s still not over.”

“Oh, right,” Bucky says as he chews his lip. “Hey, Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Match doesn’t usually set people up in California with people in New York.”

There’s a long pause. One long enough to have Bucky wanting to backpedal and explain himself more but he’s already this far.

“I’m from Brooklyn, Bucky,” Steve details. “I wanted to find someone in New York. Not Cali.”

“Why?” It’s innocent enough, probably a bit too clingy but Bucky’s grasping at straws. This guy makes him feel so good and he hates that, but he needs it too. Is it so wrong to enjoy it?

“Because people here don’t look at me right. I’m publicity or leverage. I just want someone who appreciates me for me.”

“I appreciate you for you,” Bucky says all-too-quickly.

Steve chuckles, there’s a soft pause and some rustling around. “I know you do. S’why I keep talking to you. But I really gotta go.”

“Okay,” Bucky responds. “Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

Bucky sits there atop his bed, staring at his computer on the desk. He slowly closes his eyes, sighing dejectedly. This was supposed to be a game for him and it ended up working in the catfish’s favor. He was utterly hooked. So much for trying to distance himself.


 

Bucky does his best to shy away from this catfish for a few days. He sends texts as much as normal and teases Steve all the same but he tries his best not to get excited when he sees a text. He tries to put his phone away in class and actually pay attention (a foreign concept, he’s aware). He even ignores one of Steve’s calls when he’s studying. If Bucky doesn’t stay in the top half of his class, he loses his scholarship and he doesn’t want to kiss his future goodbye over a catfish.

A fucking catfish.

Bucky should just confront him about it. He should just call this guy and demand to know the truth because Steve Rogers doesn’t use match.com. Steve Rogers doesn’t even talk about some guy he’s having phone sex with on twitter or mention he’s been flirting with some dude in interviews. He never mentions Bucky or even hints at him. It’s just more proof to Bucky that this guy isn’t Steve. He’s some guy who Bucky decided to be an idiot and indulge in. Now Bucky faces the worst brunt of it all, because he really likes the guy.

Bucky sits at the table with Natasha as he pokes around at his salad. He’s not had an appetite lately between the stress of upcoming exams and the catfish.

Natasha doesn’t say anything. She’s engrossed in a magazine with Steve’s picture on it (of course) and Bucky doesn’t want to talk about the catfish problem to Natasha. She’d just freak out and make Bucky get rid of his computer and change his name anyway.

Sighing, Bucky pushes himself from the table and dumps the rest of his salad into the garbage before headed to his room. He plops down and decides playing around on social media sites is the best idea instead of studying.

He gets on twitter to see some exchanges between Steve Rogers and Peggy Carter, another co-star in the Cap movies. They’re showing each other fanart and praising the artists for their loyalty and dedication. Bucky laughs as he finds some posts about “ship wars” and Steve’s sweet and gentle way of avoiding it by saying he doesn’t judge and everyone can let their imaginations run free. But he doesn’t answer the question if he ships FalconCap. Bucky ships it honestly.

Sighing, Bucky peels himself from the computer and drops onto his bed. He looks at his law books and then back to his phone, then to his books…then back to his phone. Bucky picks up the phone and punches in a text that reads:

BB: I’m having trouble studying.

Tossing the phone aside, he pulls his evidence book over and starts to page through it to see what chapters he still needs to outline. He keeps looking over at his phone. He hates how distracted this has made him. He needs to focus and settle into his work but all he’s thinking about is what his catfish is doing. He doesn’t really know the guy. He knows he’s funny and knows a fair bit about Steve Rogers but he doesn’t know what he does for a living, if he even does anything, or where he lives or which high school he went to. He doesn’t even know his real favorite color because he already knows Steve’s favorite is blue so of course the catfish has to say blue too.

His phone finally chimes and he snatches it quickly.

SR: Want me to help?

BB: Please? I wanna see those tits again.

SR: Oh you want those TESTS again! I’m in a meeting

BB: Take pictures of your crotch then?? It can have pants over it. (I mean, maybe. Or you can take them off).

SR: You’re pathetic. ;)

BB: Am I the first man who ever gets to see Steve Rogers’ dick? Or have there been others? I’m just curious.

SR: There’ve been others, but you’re the first man who I actually think I care about who may get to see it. May. If. MAY.

BB: Omgggg I hate youuuuuuuuuuuu.

SR: Pass your damn test and then maybe I’ll think about it XD

Bucky tosses the phone aside, rolling his eyes. He shouldn’t be sitting there shooting texts back and forth with his catfish anyway. It’s all an illusion. Just a sweet gift tucked under a tree with pretty wrapping paper but inside it’s empty and shallow.

Bucky tries to go back to studying, but he finds himself crying instead.


 

Bucky’s barely inches from the TV when Natasha comes behind him and yanks his collar. He falls back onto the floor, yelping in surprise. “What the fuck!”

“You’ll go blind if you sit that close. Sit with me!”

Bucky slinks onto the sofa, moving his body like a lion, each limb calculated and graceful. He settles down next to Natasha who promptly leans against him and tucks her head beneath his chin. “You excited?”

“I’m always excited to see Steve Rogers.”

“I’m so happy he’s doing three more Cap films,” Natasha chats as they watch the credits to the talk show appear on the screen.

“Me too,” Bucky replies, thinking back to a couple months ago when his catfish said he was in negotiations for some movie deals. Had that been real? He scrunches up his face, licking his lips, back and forth, back and forth. They’re chapped and he can feel the dried tissue tug against his tongue but he’s too fixated on trying to line up all the pieces of his stories with Steve Rogers. The real one, walking onto the stage and waving at everyone like a God damned prince. “God, he’s so pretty.”

“I’d gladly suffocate on that dick,” Natasha comments.

Bucky doesn’t even respond because he’d probably do the same thing.

Steve takes his seat next to the host and they start chatting and making jokes with each other. Steve’s witty and never misses a beat and Bucky thinks to his conversations with his catfish and how the humor is so similar. But anyone who knows Steve Rogers knows he enjoys wit and sass. It’s just the catfish being clever– not Bucky talking to Steve Rogers.

They talk about the Cap movies lined up and what the fans are expected to see but Bucky doesn’t care about any of that right now. Sure, he loves the Captain America movies but right now he just needs to know more about Steve Rogers and his personal life. The rumors had died down about Sharon and him dating, but that wasn’t enough for Bucky. It was pathetic. After all this time and cold hard evidence with the catfish never skype calling him or face timing him and still Bucky was looking for some kind of validation to know whether his catfish was the real deal or not.

The interview ends without them talking about the dating side of Steve’s life. Bucky’s so upset he almost screams. He huffs, jumping off the couch and storming into his room. Natasha calls after him but he ignores her.

Bucky’s almost to tears when she storms in.

“Go away!” Bucky shouts, moving to push her but she deflects and pushes him back onto his bed. She’d always been a better fighter than Bucky.

“What the fuck is your problem? You’ve been acting so weird these past few months!”

“I’m just stressed. School’s tough,” Bucky answers.

“Bullshit. I hear you in here talking to someone sometimes. I even hear you giggle. You don’t giggle, Bucky.”

Bucky runs his fingers through his hair, tugging at some of the brown strands. He grabs his pillow and shoves it against his chest. Curling up into a ball, Bucky sighs heavily, licking his tongue over his bottom lip. “I’ve been talking to someone off match.com.”

Natasha’s brows raise but she doesn’t say anything.

“He’s a catfish.”

Natasha’s eyes practically bulge from their sockets. Her mouth drops open and she moves to the bed and grabs Bucky’s pillow to smack him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing with a catfish!? Don’t you know how dangerous they can be?!”

“I know, I know! It’s just so obvious they’re not real! They’re using Steve Rogers’ picture and life.”

“You’re fucking shitting me,” Natasha breathes out, her mouth round in surprise. “What a dumbass.”

“Yeah,” Bucky whispers, hating how badly his heart hurts right now. He wants to stand up for his catfish, to tell Nat that he’s not a dumbass and is actually quite smart. But it’s true. Using Steve’s picture was probably the dumbest move. Bucky’s honestly surprised no one has flagged Steve and gotten the site to remove his page.

“So what’re you doing talking to a catfish?”

Bucky heaves a great sigh, sitting up. He twirls a strand of hair around one of his fingers absent-mindedly. “I thought it’d be funny at first. Catfish the catfish. Now I don’t know. It’s hard to remember he’s not really Steve.”

Natasha’s face softens. She tugs Bucky into her lap and runs her fingers through his hair. “He’s’ not Steve Rogers. He’s probably a lonely guy and you need to be careful.”

“He’s super ripped though,” Bucky comments, flicking out his phone to pull up some of the pictures.

Natasha flips through them, her face scrunched up as she scrutinizes each frame. “But you don’t know if this is actually him or not.”

Bucky takes the phone back, feeling his heart crack a bit. “No, I don’t.”

“Has he ever asked to meet with you?”

“Not yet.”

“What about video chat?”

“Not yet.”

“Bucky…”

Bucky heaves a great sigh, leaning up. “I know, I know! It’s just… It’s sometimes nice to pretend.”

Natasha looks up at him sympathetically, shrugging a shoulder. He’s honestly surprised she’s not yelling at him but makes him grateful. He wouldn’t be able to handle her judgement right now. If things escalated and they got into a screaming match, Bucky can’t guarantee that he wouldn’t confess his feelings for the catfish. He likes him. He likes him so much it hurts. It’s the ugly truth like a zit on Bucky’s chin and there’s only so much makeup he can apply until he’s just lying to himself.

Bucky likes his catfish. That’s why he keeps talking to him.


 

“So what’re you doing tonight?” Bucky asks as he pads through his apartment closing the blinds. Natasha has gone out for the night and Bucky is seizing the opportunity to roam around while talking to Steve.

The past few weeks have been tense with Natasha. Not because she’s angry at him; she’s not. She’s just concerned. She’s always pestering him about Steve, and when Bucky finally is going to confront the guy. Bucky always tries to evade but there’s only so much he can do until Natasha is getting into his phone or onto his computer and telling the guy off herself.

“Eh,” Steve sighs. It sounds like he’s lying down and shuffling a blanket around. “I’m hanging out at home. It’s been nice having a few days off.”

Bucky wants to ask what his catfish really does, but he knows the man wouldn’t admit it, so he has to keep playing along. “Filmin’ your new movie hard?”

Steve laughs softly, taking in a deep breath. “No. It’s been real fun. But then again, I’ve had the rare opportunity in life to do something that I actually love. So.”

Bucky narrows his eyes, suspecting that there was more to the story but Steve cut himself short for some reason. Curiosity gets the better of Bucky. He lies on the couch, swinging his legs over the armrest and tugging a pillow under his head. “So?”

“So…it’s nice to be able to do what you love. Never work a day in your life and all that.”

“I wish I knew how that felt,” Bucky muses, looking up at a crack in the ceiling.

“But you’re in school?”

“I hate school,” Bucky admits. “It’s useless honestly. I wish we just had apprenticeships. I like what I’m goin’ to school for. I just hate the school part.”

“Yeah, school’s tough. I used to hate it.”

“Yeah? Get picked on?”

“Absolutely!” Steve exclaims, pulling a laugh from both him and Bucky. “I had these dorky too-big front teeth and I had the worst bowl cut.”

“Oh my God!” Bucky chortles. “I’ll bet you were a dollface!”

“I was hideous. I was all edges and lanky. It was terrible. Puberty did wonders for me.”

“Got you lookin’ all big and sexy, that’s for sure.”

“Oh please. It’s called getting paid to work out and dietitians. I didn’t just magically spring into this body.”

“I wish I could magically spring into that body,” Bucky details before he even notices he’s saying it. A rush of blush hits his face as his eyes open wide. He’s covering his mouth to keep from gasping. On the other end of the phone, Steve’s gone quiet which makes Bucky’s nerves freeze.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

Bucky sits up, wondering if this is when the catfish finally admits he’s not really Steve. Bucky has already told himself he’d not care. He’s told himself that he’d accept his catfish if he was just honest. Bucky likes this guy and at this point, he’s not sure what the catfish wants but if there’s any moment to dive into this conversation then now must be that time. “Yeah?” Bucky asks, his voice rough around the edges and strained.

“I’m coming to New York soon. Gonna take some time off before I start really filming. I’ve just been doing costume fittings now. I was wondering…if we could meet?”

Bucky’s heart sinks because this guy is still playing this game. He gets nervous if this guy is really just out to kill or rape him. He wants to confess that he knows he’s not Steve Rogers but there’s a rock forming in Bucky’s throat and he can’t quite see the edges of the room from the tears that are starting to build in his eyes. He wants to so badly admit to this guy that he knows, but he can’t. He won’t. He likes him too much…

“Do what? Take your little remote control boat out onto a pond or somethin’?”

“Or go to a baseball game,” Steve supplies. “I happen to be a huge fan and I noticed on your profile it said you are too.”

Bucky closes his eyes, his throat clamping down around the words he wishes he could say before finally resigning to the words he settles for. “That’d be great, Steve.”

“I don’t wanna pressure you into anything though,” Steve explains. His voice is deep and truly focused on Bucky. “I know we often don’t get too serious but, I really like talking to you. You’re just… There’s nothing I have to prove and we can just be honest. I like that a lot. So I’d, yeah, I’d like to actually meet you.”

Bucky wants to believe this guy. He wants to keep living in the lie that this man actually cares about him but it’s all becoming too real too fast. He can’t tell Natasha about this because he knows she’ll try to convince him not to go, but Bucky needs this. He needs to meet his catfish and finally face that this illusion was simply that– an illusion.

“I think a little boat outing and a game sounds great,” Bucky concedes, closing his eyes and relinquishing himself to this idea. He wants to get this over with at this point. He just wants to know and finally start moving on or maybe even moving forward with his catfish. He doesn’t care what he looks like. He’s fun, smart, opinionated, easy to get along with and best of all– he seems to actually care.

Maybe it’s all lies, but Bucky is under this man’s spell and there’s nothing he can do about it.

“Oh thank God,” Steve professes, sounding like a weight is lifted from his chest. “I mean, I know it’s stupid but I was really worried you’d say no. Since we’ve never video chatted or anything.”

“Do you want to?” Bucky asks quickly, his eyes opening wide with hope.

There’s a long pause, followed by some rustling of sheets. “I almost at this point just want the first time I see you to be when I’m actually with you.”

Bucky’s heart cringes. It’s a cute response but Bucky knows the reason. His catfish isn’t Steve. He whimpers softly, knowing he should confront Steve and tell him the truth. He doesn’t want to hurt this guy though. That’s the biggest problem. He likes this guy. It doesn’t matter that he’s not the famous Steve Rogers. He’s Bucky’s catfish and whether that ends up a good or bad thing? Well, Bucky isn’t sure yet. But he knows he needs to meet this guy. He’ll bring a knife in case things go south, but he needs to do this for himself.

“You okay?” Steve asks.

“Just.” Bucky pauses, taking a deep breath. “Thinkin’ about actually being with you is making me…happy.”

“Just happy?” Steve teases. Bucky can hear the devilish smirk on lips he’s never seen. He hates that he can picture Steve Rogers perfectly though.

“D’y– do you wanna help me with my studying again tonight?”

There’s another rustle of blankets and then a breathy sigh over the phone. “Like our game?”

“Yeah,” Bucky replies, already palming at his cock. He doesn’t know how this guy can do this to him, but the very idea of finally seeing his catfish is sending chills up and down his back like cars upon a racetrack. His blood is getting hot and his cock is starting to throb so badly in his gym shorts. “But we skip the studying part.” Bucky lets out a pant, swallowing dryly. “And the test part. Just go straight to the end part.”

“Bucky,” Steve gasps, but from his tone, Bucky knows Steve’s getting turned on too.

“Please, Stevie,” Bucky mewls, circling his palm over his cockhead through his shorts. “Please touch yourself with me.”

“We should study first,” Steve teases, his voice smooth and Bucky can still hear that small smile.

“No!” Bucky whines, tugging at his dick softly. “Please, Stevie. This first.”

“You’ll be a good student and study later?” Steve asks, his voice getting huskier. God, that voice is sending chills down Bucky’s spine, clawing at his back and making his nerves oh so hot. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care if this man isn’t Steve Rogers. His voice is caramel with sunlight and he’s still trying to make sure Bucky studies. It doesn’t matter, Bucky likes him anyway. He likes his catfish and he doesn’t care what Natasha or Matt or anyone thinks. He wants to meet this man. He wants to see him and tell him how much it doesn’t bother him that he’s lied. It doesn’t matter to Bucky because this feels so good.

“I’ll be the best damn student ever, Stevie, just let me hear you,” Bucky whispers, slipping his hand into his waistband and cupping at his dick. He doesn’t move it. He waits, wanting to hear those delicious breathy moans that his catfish emits when he feels just as good.

“Oh Bucky,” Steve exclaims softly. “Bet you’re a damn good student.”

“Mmm,” Bucky hums, stroking himself lazily. “I’d rather get fucked over a professor’s desk to be honest.”

Steve’s breath hitches. Bucky can practically hear him freeze in his spot. “Y-yeah? You like gettin’ fucked?”

Bucky throws himself from the desk chair to the bed, bowing his spine as he fucks up into his fist. “Yeah, Stevie,” he encourages, making sure his voice is pitchy and needy. He wants this to be as good for Steve as it is for himself. “Love getting stretched so big and pumped so full.”

“Oh fuck!” Steve moans, his breathing uneven. “W– Want me to…fuck you?”

“Yes!” Bucky exclaims, swirling his fingers against his slit to catch the precome. “Yes, Stevie. Want you to fuck me so hard. Want tears in my eyes and your cock so deep. Wanna hold onto your hips and let you take me apart.”

“B-Bucky,” Steve pants. Bucky can hear him touching himself. It sends electric shocks through his system, making his nerves scream out and beg to find a way through this phone to be with this man. “Wanna take you apart. Wanna push myself so slow into you, feel every inch and make you mad.”

“Yes! Yes, please! Want you to bite me, mark me, make me yours.”

“Yeah, Buck, oh God, yeah,” Steve urges, his voice getting just as pitchy as Bucky’s.

“You sound so good, Steve,” Bucky praises, slipping his fingers around his cockhead and thrumming them against it till he’s driving himself mad. “God, I want you in me so bad.”

Steve moans, it’s urgent and desperate and Christ, it’s everything Bucky’s ever wanted. His catfish keens so pretty, so perfect with that deep tone and those pitches that crescendo within it that drive Bucky wild.

Bucky knows this isn’t meant to last, his hand is already coiling around his dick too fast, going up and down and flicking his wrist to palm over his tip. He’s looking for release, not some long drawn out game. The idea of finally seeing this man is making his skin burn and reverberate around his bones. It’s making him so needy and desperate to see– to finally know what this man looks like. He doesn’t care if he’s short, tall or fat or thin. He doesn’t care about any of that. He’s made Bucky so happy, made him feel so good. He doesn’t care anymore! He just wants him. He just needs him!

“Stevie! Oh God, oh God, oh God!” Bucky whines, arching up into his hand to pump furiously at himself. “I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming!”

“M-me too, Buck,” Steve hisses through the phone. Bucky can hear sheets moving around just as fast as he’s pumping at his cock.

His orgasm clamors out of him, pushing into his sweats. His muscles are vibrating, pulsating around his bones as he screams out Steve’s name over and over again until it’s the only thing he knows. That’s going to be the hardest part– adjusting to another name. Maybe he’ll just keep calling him Steve as a nickname.

Bucky practically has to rip his hand from himself to stop. His muscles are jelly as he lies on the bed, sleepy and pliant. He’s content. He’ll see his catfish soon. He cares about his catfish. It’s terrifying and intoxicating, stupid and great. Bucky’s never had such an attraction to a person he didn’t really know. Maybe he does though, know his catfish. While most of their conversations have been topical, Bucky has slipped through the cracks into the man beneath the façade a few times. He knows this man cares about equality, religious freedom and he practically bleeds blue in politics. He knows he’s got a busy job because there’ve been a few times Bucky has texted or called where he went ignored. It drives Bucky mad but it’s okay when Steve comes back to apologize, all cute and sincere.

It’s always sincere, and maybe that’s because the catfish is lying but Bucky wants to believe it’s because he matters to this man. He wants to matter.

“Bucky?” Steve asks softly, sounding just as content as Bucky feels.

“Yeah?”

“It’s gonna be hard to keep my hands off you when we finally meet.”

Bucky laughs, tugging at his sweats and boxers to get them off him. “So don’t keep your hands to yourself.” He stands up and pads over to his dresser for a new pair of boxers and shorts.

“Mmm,” Steve hums, sounding distant and more than content. Bucky likes that sound, it warms his heart and makes his stomach squeeze happily. “No one knows I like guys.”

Bucky freezes, remembering exactly who the catfish is pretending to be. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, staring at the clothes thrown about his dresser surface. “Uh, yeah. How’s this gonna work?”

There’s a long sigh on the other end of the phone receiver. He hears Steve stand up. “I don’t know,” he admits. “Honestly, I didn’t expect this.”

“Except what? A person to wink at you on a dating site? What the fuck were you using it for?” Bucky moves to sit at his desk again, flipping open his outlines. He won’t study while on the phone but it’ll serve as a pointed reminder that he needs to.

“No, I mean, I didn’t expect a guy to really…click with me.”

“But you’ve had sex with guys before.”

“Yeah,” Steve says. It sounds like he switches the phone to the other side because there’s a brief pause and some rustling. “But I didn’t really care about them. I liked their bodies, not their minds.”

“You like my mind?” Bucky asks, feeling hopeful.

“Hell yeah,” Steve breathes out. “Honestly, that’s been my favorite part of this. I’ve learned so much about you, but I don’t even know what you smell like yet. I can’t wait. To know.”

Bucky’s heart melts. He closes his eyes, imagining his catfish’s nose running along between his shoulder blades. Imagines this man pressing kisses to his back and cupping his bare ass. He imagines sharing a bed with him and waking up to sleepy kisses and cuddles. Bucky swallows roughly to keep from whining.

“I can’t wait to be with you,” Bucky professes, his tone almost too serious. “I’m goin’ mad over here.”

Steve laughs, moving again because Bucky hears those blankets rustling. “Same.”

Bucky sniffs, looking at his outline again. “So we’re really gonna meet up and take your little remote boat out?”

“If that’s not too boring for you,” Steve replies.

“Oh it sounds terribly boring, but it’s with you, so…” Bucky lets the words trail off. He doesn’t need to say them.

“I’ll text you when I land, okay?”

“Absolutely,” Bucky purrs, unable to hide the dopey smile that spreads across his lips. “Be safe.”

“You too.”

Bucky hangs up and stares at the computer. He has no interest in studying so he hauls himself up and throws his weight against the bed. He presses one hand to his chest and the other under his head. He hates how excited he is. He knows this journey is about to end and he’s not even sure what the catfish intends to do but…there’s still some hope in Bucky’s mind. Hope that maybe this guy will want to stay with him after they both know that it’s no longer the illusion.

Though Bucky’s had one hell of a ride with it.


 

Bucky’s nervous. He’s jittering his leg up and down as he sits in his lecture hall, watching his professor drone on and on about expert testimony. Steve’s on his plane, or so he says. Bucky’s been on Steve Rogers watch almost 24/7 and he noticed that there’s been a significant decrease in Rogers sightings since Steve said he had some down time. There were a few pictures of him getting some fast food but that was about it. Other than that, radio silence. Bucky can’t help but be curious if he’s really been talking to Steve Rogers. He knows logically the probability is actually super low if not nonexistent but there’s that glimmer of hope that Bucky can’t shake.

He watches Steve’s movies almost every night and strains his ears, closing his eyes and just listens. The voice on the screen sounds like the voice on the phone but he can’t use that as concrete evidence. People can sound like other people when you’re desperate enough to convince yourself of it. Minds are powerful and reality is relative. Bucky drums his fingers atop the desk, his gaze flicking around the room. Everyone seems so calm, moving at slow paces and ordinary. Can they see Bucky flying off the deep end over here with anticipation? He clears his throat, trying desperately to pay attention but all he wants to do is check his Instagram and Twitter again to see if Steve’s said anything.

Once the class period has ended, Bucky zooms from the room, nearly knocking Matt Murdock down much to Foggy’s annoyance. Foggy yells after Bucky but Bucky just throws up a hand and yells back, “Sorry!”

He’s running to the café for his hour break and plops down into a chair in the corner. He’s still jittery and bouncing his legs up and down when he pulls up his Twitter app on his phone. He finds Steve’s page and sits there, completely and utterly stunned.

Steve Rogers @ImSteveRogers – 1h

Taking a little vacation Hollywood. See you in a few weeks! #Capisback

“Wait…” Bucky says, clicking out of Twitter to go to his tumblr page. He’s scrolling and scrolling but there’s nothing interesting, just gifs of Rogers’ various movies, some fanart and links to fanfics but that’s all unimportant right now. He needs more confirmation that what Rogers is saying is true. He goes back to Instagram and clicks Peggy Carter’s page, seeing her retweeting Rogers and wishing him a safe trip with a ton of hearts.

Bucky sits back, feeling like the wind’s been knocked from him. There’s either a chance that the catfish knew this and he’s just that good or he’s actually been talking to Steve Rogers. “Oh my God if I’ve been talking to Steve Rogers, I am going to simply die…”

“Simply do what?” Karen asks as she sits down. “By the way, you almost ran over Matt.”

“Yeah that was a shitty thing of me to do,” Bucky replies, scratching at his neck. “But…see…there’s this thing I’m doing.”

Karan raises one of her perfectly refined brows and waits patiently.

Bucky licks at his lips, wincing when he feels how chapped they are. “I think I’m maybe talking to Steve Rogers.”

“What!?”

“Your catfish?” Matt asks as he comes to sit with them. He’s with Foggy who still looks flustered from earlier.

“Catfish? Hold on!” Karen attempts as she holds her hands up. “Start from the beginning please?”

“Basically, there was this guy on match.com who was using Steve Rogers’ pictures. I thought it’d be funny to catfish the catfish so I started talking to him and now I’m not sure if he’s actually Steve Rogers or not.”

“Steve Rogers doesn’t need a dating site,” Foggy offers. “I mean, I’d give both left and right nuts to be that guy.”

Bucky leans on an elbow, staring sympathetically at Foggy. “I mean, I don’t know. His Twitter account says he’s going on vacation. My catfish said he had a few days off and that was even before the Twitter account was updated. He’s also said things that no one could know and suddenly they were true.”

“Like?” Karen prods, her brows raised high atop her forehead.

“Like he was negotiating for new Captain America movies–”

“Oh come on,” Foggy interrupts. “Everyone knew Cap wasn’t done. Those films make way too much money, it’s stupid.”

“Do you talk to him on the phone?” Matt asks.

“Yeah,” Bucky says, suppressing the heat that swirls in his belly as he thinks about how Steve sounds when he’s aroused or moaning into the receiver. He slips down in the chair, trying to look causal about it but from the look Karen is giving him, he’s failing miserably.

“Does he sound like him?” Karen asks, leaning forward in her chair so her blond curls spill lazily over her shoulder.

“I think so?”

“People can sound alike though,” Foggy states.

“Eh, you can learn who is who though,” Matt argues.

“You’re just saying that cause you have to,” Foggy teases, nudging Matt and pulling a smile from his friend.

“Yeah but the Twitter update–” Bucky attempts to begin.

“Bucky!” a voice barks.

Bucky winces as he sees his Con Law professor coming his way. “Fuck,” Bucky whispers.

Brock Rumlow towers over them, his brown eyes intensely focused on Bucky. For the most part, Bucky has a pretty good relationship with all his teachers, Rumlow included. The only thing he did wrong here was–

“You missed more than three classes, Bucky,” Rumlow states. “You wanna come upstairs and tell me why?”

Bucky sighs heavily, watching his friends all flash looks of concern. “I’m sorry, Professor. I’ve been…yeah. I’ll come upstairs.” Bucky grabs his bookbag and slings it over a shoulder before waving back at his friends.

As if he needed any more drama today. Potentially getting academically withdrawn from his Constructional Law course was not on his to-do list. Then again, obsessing over his catfish wasn’t supposed to be on that list either.


 

Bucky’s been refreshing Steve Rogers’ twitter account for the past half hour. He had to bullshit and lie his way through his meeting with Rumlow but luckily the professor was nice enough to give him another chance. With graduation still on schedule in one year, Bucky could resume his obsession with his catfish.

He kept clicking the refresh button, over and over. Just waiting for some kind of indication of where Steve Rogers was going to be. Sighing heavily, Bucky throws his torso back against his bed, swaying lightly from the impact. He’s saying at the ceiling, wondering exactly when this got to be this bad. And it is bad. He’s obsessed. He doesn’t go out with Nat anymore. He barely studies, and he’s got a fifteen page paper due Friday but he sure as hell is doing it the night before instead because he can’t focus!

His phone chimes and he dives for it like his life depended on it. He straights up, tugging at his shirt as he flicks the screen to see the message.

SR: Landed ;P

BB: When are we meeting? I’m free right now??

SR: Someone’s in a hurry.

BB: I’m excited! We can go for coffee and dinner?

SR: What happened to boating with me?

BB: We can do that tomorrow!

Bucky realizes he’s being pushy. Catfish or not, he’s bombarding this man with clingy, desperate texts and he feels guilty but with that Twitter update, Bucky’s not so sure what’s happening anymore. If this man really is Steve Rogers…

“I’m gonna die,” Bucky gasps. “My heart is going to give out and I’m gonna die, oh my God!”

He looks down at his phone, groaning pathetically when he doesn’t see a text back. They were texting so fast just now! He huffs, slamming himself back into his deskchair to pull up his outlines. Maybe if he just studies in the meantime…

The phone chimes again and Bucky’s clamoring over to his nightstand to read it.

SR: You really want to meet today?

BB: Please? I mean, I know it seems like I’m being pushy and you’re perfectly in your right to say no, I just…I’m excited. I’ve waited so long for this.

Truth be told, he just needs to know at this point. He wants to face his catfish or die from embarrassment because this man has actually been Steve Rogers the entire time. Honestly, if he’d actually taken this seriously, he’d have approached the situation entirely different and he most certainly would not have asked Steve Rogers to have phone sex with him. He’d have wanted to, but… It’s Steve Rogers? That’s a whole other playing field that Bucky’s never experienced. Celebrities were different. He couldn’t just dick around with Steve the way he was dicking around with his catfish, could he?

SR: Where do you wanna meet? We can go for coffee but after I’ve gotta stop by my ma’s.

BB: Your ma? Awe that’s so cute! “Ma.”

SR: You’re pushing it, boy ;)

BB: Starbucks? A local café? IDK. What do you like?

SR: Ever heard of Mocha Joe?

BB: That’s a literal hole in the wall…

SR: Yeah! Let’s go there :D

BB: Has anyone told you you use entirely too many emojis?

SR: :) :D XD ;P :’D <3

BB: Smartass. How long till feces infested coffee?

SR: The coffee does not have feces in it you swine. And I can be there in thirty. How bout you?

BB: I’ll see you in 30, Stevie <3

Reality was finally setting in. Bucky’s meeting his catfish. At Mocha Joe’s… the worst coffee joint in all of Brooklyn. Where hardly anyone went…

“Oh God, I’m gonna get murdered,” Bucky professes, clutching at his cheeks and dragging his fingers over his face. “Where’s that knife I got.” He rummages through his things, searching for the switchblade he’d purchased in case he ever had to take the late train. He’d often forget the thing though. That was apparent in how it takes him nearly fifteen minutes to locate the damn thing.

He doesn’t have time to explain to Nat where he’s going so as he runs by her in the living room, he kisses the top of her head and mumbles, “School shit. I’ll be back later!”

“Whatever,” she replies lazily as she flicks the channel.

Bucky’s out of the apartment in record timing, zooming down the stairs and risking his life as he flies over them. He looks back at the building, silently thanking God that he didn’t just fall and break his spine.

He takes off jogging down the street till he finds a cab and hails it down.


 

The café is of course, sparsely populated. There’s a group of hipsters in the corner and an older man with a newspaper toward the back but other than that, Bucky’s painfully aware he’s alone and there’s no Steve Rogers. He licks his lips, panicking at the thought of the older man as the catfish. It’d never occurred to him that the person could be years older than him. His heart is slamming against his chest now as a shiver coils up his spine. It’s not that he has anything against older people it’s just… He’s not there yet. He’ll find them attractive one day but not when he’s in his mid-twenties. The oldest he’s found attractive so far is fifty.

Bucky’s about ready to ditch this idea when he turns around and sees someone coming through the door. They’ve got a ball cap on and a blue jacket to match. Bucky’s mouth drops open when he looks down at a broad chest wrapped tightly in a crew neck white tee. His mouth goes dry when the person smiles at him.

Is this…his catfish?

“You’re not a catfish,” Bucky whispers, drinking up Steve Rogers in all his six foot tall, unrealistic shoulder to waist ratio and oh my God, his thighs!

“A what?” he asks.

Bucky’s coiled his arms around himself as he stares, gaping and wondering how he’s heart hasn’t given out yet. “You’re actually Steve Rogers.”

“Well yeah,” Steve comments, shrugging as if it’s the silliest conversation he’s ever heard. “You’re Bucky, right?”

“Yeah,” Bucky states, his voice is tiny and still drowning in shock. “I didn’t think…”

Steve cocks a brow as he helps Bucky over to a table. His hands are rough and calloused, something Bucky honestly wouldn’t have expected, but his chest… His chest is broad, thick and everything Bucky had ever dreamed about. He’s wide and small at the same time because he’s not actually taking up as much room that his character, Captain America seems to take up and no one has even turned to look at him yet.

Bucky sits across from Steve, gaping in bewilderment, his eyes round as a full moon. He’s clutching the table in fear he may fall up into the sky.

Steve’s looking at him with the most adorable smirk on his face. He’s got his head tilted and that baseball cap just looks so worn and loved which makes him look even better.

“I thought you were a catfish,” Bucky finally admits, feeling his heart twist up in his chest and shudder.

“A what?”

“A catfish. Ya know, someone who lures someone in pretending to be something else.”

Steve’s face flushes red and Bucky almost moans at how beautiful he looks like that. His catfish, was never a catfish. He was a hulking broad-shouldered man with a chiseled jaw and that adorably, slightly crooked nose. He was always honest and Bucky…

Oh God…

“I’m an idiot!” Bucky exclaims, pushing his fingers against his face. “Oh my God, Steve! Everything I said…all that shit about Sharon! Oh my God, what I asked you to do!”

Steve’s eyes go round as he brings up his hands to placate Bucky. “Hey, hey no! It’s okay! It’s okay!”

“Oh my God. I’m gonna die. This is it. I’m dying.” Bucky yanks at his hair, staring at Steve but not really seeing him. His catfish wasn’t a catfish. Steve Rogers was taking pictures of his own feet, his own chest, his own abdomen. Those were Steve Roger’s moans and delectable voice as he was coming over the phone with Bucky. “Holy shit…”

Steve starts laughing, at first it’s uneasy and then it just bursts all over his face and down his shoulders. He’s holding his chest as he laughs, his other hand going up over his eyes.

Bucky’s pouting, staring pathetically at Steve with eyes that are meant to be angry but they miss the mark.

“You’re so cute, I can’t stand it!” Steve chuckles. “You didn’t think I was real, but you kept talking to me?!”

Bucky tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, chewing his bottom lip. “Well…I thought… you know…fish the catfish.”

“I had to prove I was me the very day I signed on with them. My account got flagged within twenty minutes.”

“No way!” Bucky exclaims, leaning forward over the table. “What’d they make you do?”

“Send them my driver’s license. They were super apologetic after but I honestly thought it was hilarious. I honestly was so astonished you never asked me for proof.”

“Well,” Bucky fumbles, slipping down in his chair. “I didn’t wanna be ‘that guy’ ya’know? Like, if you were really you? I’d just…die.”

“Like you are right now?” Steve chirps, a smug look on his face.

Bucky kicks him beneath the table. “Yeah. Holy shit, I’ve had phone sex with Steve Rogers.”

Steve rolls his eyes, standing up. “Want coffee?”

“I’d rather have sex,” Bucky flirts back, offering his most debonair smile.

“Ha. Ha. I’ll get us coffee.”

They talk about everything, from Steve’s costume fittings to his almost dead career when his agent kept trying to suck more money out of Disney to pay him. He was adamant about not taking a pay increase, but his agent went behind his back and almost cost him the job as Captain America. He apparently fired his agent on the spot. Bucky found that honorable, even if Steve was still making more money than Bucky has ever seen in his life.  

Bucky in turn talks about school and how he’s not sure he’ll do well this semester. He admits Steve got him distracted but he doesn’t regret it. Steve apologizes several times but Bucky just keeps grinning wider. They play footsie under the table and Bucky can’t stop the currents that rush into his dick each time Steve’s leg meets his.

Steve promises he’ll help him study before he leaves and Bucky’s seriously hoping that means they’re going to fuck. Honestly, if that’s the one thing he can get out of his life, when he’s ninety years old, saying he fucked a movie star was pretty solid in terms of cool grandpa stories (maybe).

Bucky’s polishing off his third cup of coffee (so Mocha Joe’s wasn’t as bad as he remembered) when Steve looks at his watch and jolts a little bit. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah. I just…it’s late.”

“Huh?” Bucky looks down at his phone, realizing they’d been in the coffee shop for several hours. “Oh shit.”

“I wanna take you out tomorrow. Boats and a dinner, okay?”

Bucky’s heart is already squeezing, wrenching at the thought of going home without Steve. “Sure,” he agrees.

Steve stands up and takes Bucky’s empty coffee cup to the recycling bin before joining back up. He offers out his arm to Bucky. Bucky looks around first, noticing the place is a little more crowded than when he first got here.

“Uh, but no one knows you like guys?”

“No one is paying the least bit of attention to me,” Steve analyzes.

Bucky takes Steve’s arm, pressing up against the man’s warmth and hums appreciatively. They walk out the door and out into the evening. “So where ya heading?”

Steve looks both ways and opens his mouth but doesn’t speak.

“Steve?”

“I’m…not sure.”

“Seriously?” Bucky nudges his nose against Steve playfully, then looks up at the man with round eyes. Was it okay if he did that?

Steve pays no mind to it though and starts walking, tugging Bucky along gently. “Yeah…Shit.”

“Shit what?”

“I guess I forget where I am. It’s been awhile since I’ve last been here.” Steve dips his chin, like he’s afraid to admit that.

“Well, you’re in luck,” Bucky says as he sleuths out of Steve’s grip and spins to face him, walking backwards. “I happen to live here.”

Steve smiles, rolling his eyes. “Okay, tour guide.”

“Hey,” Bucky shrugs. “If you don’t want my help that’s perfectly fine.”

“No! I want your help!” Steve laughs, catching up to Bucky and pressing his fingers against Bucky’s hips. He’s pulling Bucky now, crashing their chests together and catching Bucky’s lips in a rough kiss.

Bucky melts, moaning into the kiss. He rolls his hips into Steve, pressing his cock against the outline of the other man’s dick. He’s warm and his lips are so soft as they twist and furl around his. Steve doesn’t use a lot of tongue but that’s perfectly okay, Bucky doesn’t like a lot of tongue anyway. Playfully though, he nips at Steve’s bottom lip. He circles his hips against Steve, pulling the most delicious moan out of him. He feels that moan vibrate Steve’s chest and Bucky’s already hard as a fucking rock.

Steve pulls back, lips red and breathless. He wipes at his mouth, looking at Bucky with the most appreciative smile. “Thank God you’re a good kisser.”

Bucky barks out a laugh, the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. “You were worried I wasn’t?”

Steve shrugs, putting his hands up in surrender. “I worry about everything. Don’t be too harsh.”

“Wow, Rogers.”

Steve steps closer again, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s shoulders. “You got somethin’ in your pants there?”

Bucky rolls his eyes, rubbing his cock over Steve’s pointedly. “It’s happy to see you.”

Steve bits his lip and Bucky’s not sure if he can keep from coming if Steve tugs any more at those luscious red lips. “If you weren’t so damn adorable, I’d call you an idiot.”

“You think I’m adorable?” Bucky asks, momentarily starstruck. This is Steve Rogers. This is fucking Steve Rogers. Celebrity. The it-guy actor. Captain America. America’s Number One on 2015’s hot list. This is mother fucking Steve Rogers.

“Well, I guess you’re right,” Steve says as he scrunches up his nose. “Not adorable.”

“What?”

“Sexy,” Steve purrs, nipping Bucky’s nose lightly. “Has anyone told you your lips are entrancing? I mean, I think I let you ramble on just so I could watch them move.”

Bucky licks at his lips on cue, pressing his body against Steve’s again, fluttering his eyes shut when his cock presses against Steve’s hardening length. “You really have to go?”

Steve nods, swallowing pronouncedly. “I promised my ma.”

“You can’t come back? You could stay with me.” Bucky’s last boyfriend broke up with him because he didn’t give the guy space… Now Bucky was beginning to realize he was entirely right and that wasn’t something he wanted to do to Steve so fast he jumps on his words, trying to eat them back. “I mean, no. I mean yeah. Tomorrow. We’ll have more time together.”

Steve nods, dipping in to press a soft peck against Bucky’s lips. “Believe me,” he assures. “If I could stay with you tonight I would. But the first tonight I always stay with my ma and watch movies with her.”

“It’s fine. We’ve spent our whole lives apart. What’s another day?”

Steve’s eyes narrow and Bucky isn’t sure if he’s getting teary eyed or if the setting sun is just hitting those blue hues oddly but either way, Steve looks sad. He pulls Bucky into him, wrapping those big arms around his shoulders and burying his face in Bucky’s throat. “I really like you, Bucky,” he whispers. “And I’m so excited for tomorrow.”

Bucky squirms out of the bear hug. He straightens out his shirt and jacket before shrugging. “It was meant to be a joke. But I suck at jokes. So.”

Steve flicks his brow up once. “Yeah. It was shitty. Now can you please tell me how to get to 7th street from here?”


 

Bucky sneaks back into his apartment when the moon is high in the sky. He still can’t believe what’s happened. This entire time. This entire time he’s been talking to the real Steve Rogers. He’s honestly thankful he didn’t really know now. If he’d believed it was really Steve, he’d probably have never been so casual with him. He’d stifle the embarrassment for another day, right now he doesn’t care. He landed Steve Rogers. The actor had wrapped his arms around him, held him close and told him he liked Bucky.

Shit…

Bucky could cry from excitement. He toes out of his shoes, moving with ease into the living room from the small mudroom. Natasha is sitting at the bar, chewing her gum loudly and writing into a notebook. Bucky assumes it’s just homework.

“Well hey stranger,” she greets.

“Hey,” Bucky breathes out. He slides into the chair next to her, poking her gum bubble before she has a chance to pop it herself.

She groans, prying the gum from her lips and glares. “Jerk!”

“Couldn’t help it.”

“Where’ve you been?”

“I met my catfish,” Bucky begins, offering a victorious smile. “And it turns out that was the best decision of my life.”

Natasha raises a red brow, her look suggesting he explain.

“It’s really Steve, Nat. I’ve actually been talking to Steve Rogers!”

Her eyes go round, nearly bulging from her head as she drops her gum from her mouth, sending it falling into her lap. “You’re shitting me!”

“I’m serious! It’s actually him!”

“Holy fuck, Bucky!” She jumps from the chair, grabbing his hands and jumping up and down squealing.

He jumps with her, feeling bubbles tickle in his chest. He’s laughing, hopping along with her as they’re both squealing and smiling.

“Bucky! You’re dating Steve Rogers! Oh my God!”

He spins her around, dipping her playfully as they continue their excited little dance. “I know, right! I can’t fuckin’ believe it!”

“Christ, Bucky! You have to bring him over! He needs to introduce me to Clint Barton!”

“One step at a time, Nat!” Bucky giggles, helping her back into her seat. He plops back down beside her, still all smiles and blushing cheeks. “I almost died when he walked in. I got so embarrassed but he’s so nice!”

“Tell me everything!”

They stayed up talking about Bucky’s encounter, popping open a bottle of wine and chugging it down merrily. They even went onto match.com so Bucky could show most of his conversations to Nat. She wouldn’t stop squealing, talking about how amazing this was. Bucky’s face hurt from grinning so much.

His catfish wasn’t a fish after all. He was a giant hunk of a man with beautiful blue eyes and a chest made of marble. He was easy to talk to and his skin electrifying.

Bucky couldn’t wait till tomorrow.


 

They meet at a park in Brooklyn, small enough that it isn’t heavily crowded but large enough that it has a pond by a little bridge. Bucky’s palms are sweaty and he probably went through his entire closet before picking out a wine red sweater with his leather jacket. Natasha had given him shit for it, but that was her job as the best friend.

Steve’s hand is warm as he laces it with Bucky’s, bumping their shoulders together and keeping the distance to a minimum. Bucky isn’t sure his heart’s going to last through this but he sure as hell is going to try.

“Ready to go boating with me?”

Bucky rolls his eyes, snorting lightly. “Is that your boat?” he asks, pointing to a little blue schooner on a park bench.

“That’s her,” Steve replies, sounding overly proud of the small toy boat. “I built her when I was seven. Can’t part with her.”

“You built this?” Bucky asked, coming behind the boat and looking it over with renewed interest. He can see the different colors in the wood from where it’s been replaced or updated. The paint job is mostly new but there’s a few spots he can pick out that Steve didn’t fix through the years.

“My dad did one good thing for me,” Steve says casually, shrugging.

Bucky’s heart churns at the way he said that. It’s loaded, like there’s an entire story behind it but Bucky can’t bring himself to ask. If Steve wanted to tell him, he’d up and tell him.

“Let’s put her in the water,” Bucky suggests, smiling over at Steve, hoping the tension would dissipate from Steve’s previous comment.

Steve’s eyes melt, his shoulders drop and Bucky’s rewarded with a breathtaking smile. “Yeah,” Steve responds. He picks up the boat, handing Bucky the controller. “You can steer her.”

“Me?” Bucky’s eyes round as he points to himself. “But–”

“I trust you not to break her,” Steve supports nudging his elbow into Bucky’s side lightly. “C’mon.”

They walk over to the pond, Steve crouches down, the small of his back peeking from his jacket and his jeans get all tight around his ass. Bucky can’t help but stare, dragging his teeth over this bottom lip as he takes in the view.

Steve pushes the boat into the pond and stands to walk back to Bucky. “Turn her on.”

“W-what?”

Steve laughs, tossing his head back and shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “Turn the boat on, Bucky.”

Flushing red, Bucky flicks the switch and hears the boat rumble to life with her little rudder going.

“You can turn her with this and you can control her speed with this,” Steve instructs pointing to the two joint sticks on the controller. “Just don’t crash her and we’re good.”

“I’ve gotta be honest,” Bucky admits as he steers the little schooner in the water, smiling when he makes it do a figure eight. “I expected you to like motocross, football and I dunno. Bro things.”

“Bro things,” Steve echoes, looking down from the corner of his eye. His lips are curled up and Bucky wants to lean up to press a kiss against them but he’s got Steve’s little boat’s life in his hands, so he doesn’t.

“I mean, ya know, goin’ to parties and getting drunk. Strip clubs and loud angry men smacking each other on the ass.”

Steve snorts, moving to sit on the grass. He’s supporting his weight with his palms out behind him, legs crossed at the ankles.

Bucky sits next to him, tucking himself against Steve’s side. He nearly squeals when Steve wraps an arm around his waist and presses a kiss to his jaw.

“My ma’s always told me I’ve got an old soul,” Steve explains. “Most boys grew up loving basketball and watching action movies. I liked drawing and I Love Lucy.”

“Aka, you’re gay,” Bucky teases, looking over to Steve for just a moment to see those red lips expose shiny white teeth. He turns back to watch the boat, turning it so it’s situated more in the middle of the pond.

“Yeah, there’s that too I guess, but I’m not gay.”

“Oh? I didn’t realize I’m a woman.”

Steve presses another kiss to Bucky’s jaw, letting his lips linger as he brushes them along the curve of the bone. Bucky whines softly.

“Bisexual,” Steve clarifies. “I dated Peggy Carter, remember?”

“Boy do I,” Bucky breathes out. “I hated her that entire summer.”

Steve barks out a laugh, watching his boat. “She’s a nice lady. You’d like her.”

“Oh I love her now. I just auto hate anyone who dates you.”

“Yeah?” He runs his fingers over the leather of Bucky’s jacket, his eyes lingering on Bucky’s lips. “Why’s that?”

Bucky’s finding it hard to keep steering the boat. Steve’s face is close to his and he keeps touching him, running his fingers up and down his torso and now Steve’s slipping his fingers into Bucky’s thigh pocket and…Christ, he’s squeezing’ “S-Steve!”

“Answer the question, Bucky,” Steve guides, his voice husky and deep.

Bucky swallows hard, trying to slow the boat down so he doesn’t crash it. “Because I’ve liked you for a long time. But I never thought I’d get this far.”

Steve brushes his nose against Bucky’s cheek, slipping his hand back out of Bucky’s pocket and pushing it against his torso. “S’okay, you got me now.”

“Steve…” Bucky sighs, his gaze flicking back and forth from the boat to Steve, over and over.

Steve makes the first move, pushing Bucky’s back against the grass and claiming his lips. He’s forceful, more forceful than Bucky thought he’d be with all that Captain America charm but that obviously was just Bucky superimposing Steve’s character onto him. Steve’s lips are hot, pressing against his and coiling around them. Steve’s tongue darts out, flirtatiously, and never long enough for Bucky to taste but it’s there and it’s just as hot as the rest of Steve.

Bucky reaches up, threading his fingers through Steve’s blond hair. He moans into the kiss, hearing tiny noises escape their twisting lips as they continue to kiss each other. Steve’s on top of Bucky now, legs straddling him with those thick thighs and Bucky can’t help himself from rocking up into Steve.

Bucky pulls back, seeing the line of spit that gleams from the sun before it breaks, disconnecting him from Steve’s lips. “Your boat.”

“I’ll fix her,” Steve says, pressing soft kisses against Bucky’s lips. He’s rocking his hips each time, rolling back and forth against Bucky, offering the sweetest, most tender kisses Bucky’s ever experienced.

He wants to scream. He wants to pull Steve flush against him, grind his hard dick against Steve’s and come right into his pants but they’re out in public, and it’s a wonder no one has stopped to gasp yet but Bucky’s pretty sure no one was around last he looked. It is kind of chilly to be at a park, though maybe the weather was warm? Bucky’s not sure, it’s suddenly freezing around him whenever Steve pulls away for a moment before scooping his lips up against his again.

“I can’t wait,” Bucky whines, rocking his hips up to Steve’s. “I can’t wait, I can’t. Please don’t make me wait.”

“Wait for what, Bucky,” Steve asks, taking Bucky’s hands and kissing each knuckle before twirling his tongue around Bucky’s index finger, sucking it into his mouth. He looks down at Bucky with those sweet eyes, lashes demanding attention and Bucky gives it.

He moans, watching Steve slip back and forth on his finger. Steve’s sucking with enough force to make Bucky wanna curl his finger before it snaps off but doesn’t really care as long as he can watch the outline of Steve’s cheekbones catch the sun as they are like this.

“Want you to fuck me,” Bucky breathes out finally, his mouth hanging open. “Want you so deep in me, Steve.” He rolls up, crying out when his cock brushes the seam of his pants. “Please, please fuck me.”

Steve pulls back, sucking hard enough around Bucky’s finger to make a small pop sound. He grinds his hips down, swirling them over Bucky’s, making the man cry out again. “I’m not fucking anyone.”

Bucky’s heart drops, plummeting with enough force to knock the breath out of him.

“But I’ll make love with someone,” Steve offers, giving a crooked smirk as he looks down innocently at Bucky.

“You shithead,” Bucky sighs, playfully smacking Steve’s chest. “That’s a strong word.”

“So’s fucking,” Steve counters. “Fucking’s casual and quick. I don’t want this casual and quick.”

“No?” Bucky whimpers, grabbing Steve’s hips to pull him closer, grinding his cock down against the seam of his pants. “Fuck, Steve I need you.”

“I like you, Bucky,” Steve continues, disregarding Bucky’s pleas. “I wanna explore this with you, so yeah. No fucking. It’s gotta mean something.”

“Okay,” Bucky whimpers, wrapping his arms around Steve’s shoulders and forcing them into a hungry kiss. “Then make love to me.”

Their lips crash. It’s rough and a little awkward because Bucky’s pretty sure he’s getting saliva on Steve’s chin but the man doesn’t seem to care. Their lips continue to press and curl around each other but Steve’s adamant about not using too much tongue. Bucky runs his along Steve’s bottom lip before nipping softly.

Steve chuckles into the kiss, breathing loudly as their noses rub against each other’s forcefully. He presses down against Bucky’s cock, the outline of his dick easy to feel and Bucky’s already pressing back up, yearning for more.

Steve pulls back, his eyes are closed as he rests his forehead against Bucky’s. “We should go somewhere less… outside.”

Bucky drops his head back, looking up at the blue sky. “Yeah, probably. Where do you wanna go?”

Steve laces their fingers again. He’s tracing the blue veins in Bucky’s hands.

Bucky furrows his brow, unsure if Steve is even listening when Steve finally says, “We can go to my hotel.”

“Can I order room services?” Bucky challenges, pressing a kiss to Steve’s cheek.

“You can order whatever you want,” Steve growls back, lifting himself and pulling Bucky up along with him.

Bucky’s dizzy and breathless as he watches Steve go to scoop out his schooner. Luckily it crashed into the weeds and lily pads in the pond along the side. He watches that beautiful outline of Steve’s ass as the man leans over to fish out his boat.

He joins Bucky again, flicking his brow up once. “You didn’t break her.”

“Good. I’d have felt bad.”

Steve wraps an arm around Bucky, pressing tiny kisses against his temple. “Ready?”

“Absolutely.”


 

Steve’s hotel is too far away and they’re already having enough trouble keeping their pants on. Bucky eventually convinces Steve to go back to his place and that Natasha won’t mind. Steve’s not reluctant because it’s Bucky’s place. He’s only reluctant because of Natasha so after a quick call to Nat, Bucky’s all smiles and pleasantries once he convinces her to get the fuck out.

When they get to the apartment, Steve’s already picking Bucky up, slamming him against the mudroom wall and kissing him so forcefully that Bucky’s sure he’ll have bruises around his mouth. He’s groaning into the kiss like a god damned feral animal and Bucky couldn’t be more excited for those sounds. He runs his fingers through Steve’s hair, feeling the strands stick up every which way as he makes his mark on the man.

Steve’s biting down Bucky’s neck, bruising little teeth marks against the olive skin.

“God, fuck, Steve,” Bucky moans, exposing more of his neck to Steve. “You a vampire?”

“There’s that shitty humor again,” Steve teases. He pulls Bucky off the wall, still keeping Bucky’s legs wrapped tightly around him and they fall onto the couch. Steve’s kissing down Bucky’s neck, lapping at the skin hungrily.

Bucky’s rolling his hips up into Steve, whining and gasping from Steve’s wandering fingers and soft, wet tongue.

Steve’s sucking loudly against Bucky’s collarbone now, pulling the fabric of Bucky’s sweater down before deciding to push it off instead. He lifts Bucky’s torso, yanking the sweater off. He lets his blue gaze wander down Bucky’s abdomen, trailing his fingers over the skin. “You’re so fucking pretty, Bucky.”

Bucky preens, tugging at Steve’s button down. “Your turn.”

“Rip it off me then,” Steve challenges.

“What?”

“If you want it off, you gotta fight me for it.”

“Fight you?” Bucky babbles, his eyes rounding.

Steve laughs, pressing kisses to Bucky’s jaw and trailing down to his collarbone to lap at them again. “Yup. Fight me.”

Bucky drops his head when he feels Steve twirl his tongue around a nipple before sucking at it softly. He rocks his hips down into Bucky and for a moment, Bucky forgets who he is. Steve Rogers is above him, caressing him, rolling his hips into him and sucking so nicely against his hard nipples. He’s in the sky, he’s soaring, he’s dead or something because this is heaven! Steve’s body is so hot against his, so big and perfect and Bucky can’t think straight.

He tugs at Steve’s shirt again, whining pathetically. “Steve!”

“Fight me for it,” Steve whispers again before running his tongue down Bucky’s abdomen to his navel where he darts it in, quick as a serpent. He’s looking up at Bucky with lust-filled eyes and a challenging smile.

Growling, Bucky shoves Steve back and they clamor to the floor. Bucky’s got Steve pinned now. He grinds his hips down hard against Steve’s cock, smiling proudly when the man below him lets out a bellowing moan.

Bucky rips at the buttons on Steve’s shirt, hearing them clatter around them. He splays the shirt open, watching as Steve’s chest rises and falls, breathing heavily. “Fuck,” he appraises, slipping his hands down Steve’s sternum. “Fuck Stevie you’re too pretty.”

“Too pretty?” Steve repeats. He arches his back, his chest getting more pronounced. “You like my tits right, Buck?”

Bucky moans, dropping his face against Steve’s chest and nipping at the muscle. He twists two fingers around one of Steve’s pink nipples, tugging and swirling them around the sensitive flesh.

Steve’s gasping, muttering profanities that Bucky Barnes never thought he’d hear from the actor of Captain America but there they were.

Steve knees up into Bucky, not painfully, but enough to catch Bucky in surprise. He’s flips them over and dips his mouth against Bucky’s torso again, sucking at the skin enough to bruise and loud enough that the room is echoing from the sounds.

Bucky’s hot, splayed atop the floor, writhing beneath Steve’s touch. His heart is slamming against his chest, shoving desperate hungry heat through his veins that claim his body and overload his nerves. All he wants is Steve. All he ever wants is Steve. Steve’s so perfect, holding him down and kissing every inch of skin he can find, taking his time but he’s fast enough that Bucky’s not bored or tortured from it.

Steve cups over Bucky’s dick, squeezing it lightly, earning a yelp from Bucky. “You want me to touch you, baby?”

Bucky shivers, laughing darkly as he presses up into Steve’s hand. “Please, Stevie. Please touch me.”

“Want me to wrap these pretty little legs around my head and eat you out so nice too?”

Bucky drops his head back, groaning as pleasure zings into his cock. “Please, Steve? Oh please, oh please eat me out!”

“I’ll bet you taste so good, Bucky,” Steve whispers, nibbling around Bucky’s hip bones. “Bet you’d be so good for me.”

“The best,” Bucky adds. “I’d be the best for you.”

“Yeah? Prove it,” Steve challenges, slipping his fingers around Bucky’s button and flicking to release it. He tugs at the zipper before dipping his hand into Bucky’s briefs to coil around his cock. “Gonna be good for me? The best?”

“Yes,” Bucky whines. “Yes, oh yes, oh yes!”

Steve tugs at Bucky’s jeans and briefs, pulling them past his ankles and tossing them aside. Bucky tries to pull his legs up, but Steve catches him and splays them out, his gaze drinking in Bucky’s physique.

Bucky’s embarrassed, being naked in front of a completely clothed man. He’d broken the buttons off Steve’s shirt but he’d never yanked the damn thing off.

Steve runs a finger along Bucky’s cock, pressing softly against the tip. “You’re so pretty.”

Bucky whines, rocking his reddening dick up into Steve’s warm hands.

Steve pulls back, running his fingers along the sensitive flesh of Bucky’s inner thighs.

Bucky squirms, giggling and jerking his hips to try to get away but never truly doing much else than pretending to put up that little fight.

“Ticklish?” Steve asks. He dips his fingers further, ghosting them over Bucky’s ass cheeks before pressing a finger against his hole.

Bucky sucks in air, his body stilling as he stares up at Steve expectantly.

“Bucky,” Steve begins, sounding worried. “This hole’s so tiny.” He bows his back, leaning down to press kisses along Bucky’s inner thighs. “It’s gonna be so tight around me.”

Bucky moans, loving the way Steve’s talking. He’d never imagined Steve to be a dirty talker, but he was praising high heaven for it now. “You got a big dick, Stevie?” Bucky asks, his voice rugged and raw. “Gonna fill me up real good?”

Steve shivers, Bucky watches the goosebumps rise on his skin. “Oh hell yeah, baby,” Steve breathes. “Gonna fill you up so nice.” He lifts Bucky’s legs, bending them to expose Bucky’s hole better. “God, Bucky, you’re so fucking stunning.”

Stunning. Bucky’d been called many things while having sex but stunning hadn’t been one. Hot. Sexy. Gorgeous. Never stunning. Never anything that meant he was better than good enough. He preened at the compliment, squeezing and relaxing his hole intentionally for Steve to get a good look at it.

“Oh fuck,” Steve moans. He spits over Bucky’s dick, curling fingers around the length to pump the saliva around it. He spits again, getting it directly on the cockhead.

Bucky cries out when Steve’s fingers run over his tip, smearing precome with saliva.

“Gonna get you feeling so good, Buck,” Steve rasps. “You’re gonna be so good for me, right?”

“Yes, Stevie,” Bucky whispers, lifting his hips into Steve’s touch. “The best.”

Steve smiles, it’s kind and warm. Bucky feels so safe under this man’s touch and direction. Each time Steve pumps against his cock, Bucky’s leaning up and when he’s pulling back, Bucky’s waiting patiently for Steve’s hand again.

“You got lube baby?” Steve asks before moving to nestle himself between Bucky’s legs.

Bucky wraps his legs around Steve’s shoulders, reaching up to the couch to grab a pillow and put beneath his head.

“Yeah. In the bedroom.”

“We’ll get there,” Steve says, smiling devilishly. “Gonna  make you feel good for a bit, okay?”

“Okay,” Bucky answers, feeling his heart growing in his chest. He didn’t know he could care about someone so much that it filled his body so full of elation. Every touch from Steve was better than the last. Steve was kind. He did things slow and he was giving Bucky all the attention and that spoke louder than any words could.

Bucky was used to tops who just took over and got to their part first. They were sloppy and rushed– only working Bucky up to get their dicks into him. But not Steve. Steve was giving Bucky all the attention, making him feel valued and adored. Bucky could cry from it.

Steve laps at the underside of Bucky’s cock. He’s flicking his tongue out, swiping it from side to side at the base of Bucky’s cockhead, looking up at Bucky, watching for any indication of approval or not.

Bucky bites his lip, doing his best not to push his dick further into Steve’s face. He grabs at the carpet, digging his nails into it. “F-fuck, Steve!”

“Shh,” Steve consoles, his lips pressed to Bucky’s tip and his breath is hot against it.

“Ah!”

“You’re okay, Buck,” Steve says, his lips pushing against Bucky’s dick as he speaks. “You’re so pretty like this, Bucky.”

Bucky drops his jaw, letting out a deep moan. His muscles are squeezing and relaxing all around him and his dick is so painfully hard. “Please suck it.”

“Hm?”

“Suck me off, Steve, please.”

Steve laughs, stroking his hand up and down Bucky’s dick casually. “I’ll do anything you want, Bucky. You just gotta let me know.”

Buck nods, watching Steve wrap his lips around Bucky’s cock. He bobs softly, his eyes closed as he focuses.

Bucky drops his head back against the pillow, moaning from how hot and wet Steve’s mouth is.

Steve presses his tongue against Bucky’s dick, hooking it so it traces up just behind his lips with each pump of his mouth. He comes up to the tip, letting his lips linger around it so he can swirl his tongue around it a few times.

“Oh, fuck! So good, so good Steve,” Bucky praises as he squeezes his legs around Steve’s head a bit. He arches his back when Steve sucks against the tip loudly, his tongue darting out to press into the slit.

“You like this?” Steve asks, moving his hand to cup at Bucky’s balls and roll them between his fingers.

Bucky shivers, squeezing his back muscles against the carpet. “Yes, yes, yes, Stevie.”

“Want more?”

Bucky nods exuberantly.

Steve dips down again to take Bucky into his mouth. He pumps up and down, using one hand to still play at Bucky’s balls and the other to curl fingers around Bucky’s base.

Bucky’s limbs are shaking around Steve. He’s mewling with every flick of Steve’s tongue and gasping then Steve’s kissing the tip of his penis. “Steve!”

Steve laughs, pressing more kisses to the tip. He’s letting his lips brush against it between each kiss, darting his tongue out like a snake to tease the slit before kissing again, over and over.

Bucky’s clenching his jaw as Steve teases him. It feels so good, so much better than anything he’d ever felt. Steve’s a tease, but he’s not doing to punish Bucky or make him get so hard he can’t see straight. He’s doing it because he genuinely cares. Bucky knows this. Steve wants Bucky to feel cared for and adored, and that’s exactly what he’s doing. He’s doting upon Bucky, worshiping his cock and making him feel good before doing anything else. Steve’s methods are all about Bucky, and Bucky can’t help but feel tears in his eyes as Steve starts to make out with the tip of his dick.

He’s breathing unevenly, clutching at the carpet beneath him still as Steve’s lapping and letting his lips glaze along Bucky’s tip, fingers still pumping at the base.

“Feels so good, Steve,” Bucky praises through a whisper. “So, so, so good.”

Steve smiles, genuinely proud. He puts two fingers into his mouth before popping them out to swirl around Bucky’s hole. “This okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky whispers, his eyes heavily-lidded and drunk on pleasure.

“Gonna make you feel so good, I swear,” Steve promises, kissing Bucky’s hip bone. He circles his fingers around Bucky’s hole a few more times before dipping one finger in.

Bucky squeezes around him, sighing in content as he feels that finger penetrate into him. It’s slipping against his insides, circling around as it explores him. “Want your tongue,” Bucky whines.

Steve instantly pulls back and replaces his finger with his tongue instead.

Bucky whines, pitchy and pathetically as Steve’s tongue fills him. It’s so warm against his insides as it flattens inside him, pumping back and forth a few times. Steve hooks his tongue inside Bucky, pulling back to let a little pop echo softly into the room. He pushes his face harder against Bucky’s ass, his fingers still pumping lazily at Bucky’s dick.

Bucky arches his back, moaning low and long when Steve swirls his tongue inside him, pushing it forcefully against his insides, stretching him out as much as it can.

Steve scoots up, his tongue pushing out of his hole to glide along his perineum.

“Oh! Fuck, Steve!” Bucky whines, wrapping his fingers into Steve’s hair and tugging.

Steve’s lapping forcefully at the perineum, his tongue slipping back against Bucky’s hole to peek inside before coming right back out to dance along the perineum again. He continues this for awhile, his tongue just coating every inch of Bucky’s crack and perineum with saliva.

He swirls his tongue inside Bucky, pushing his nose against the perineum and circling his head so both tongue and nose slip along Bucky, offering as much pleasure as possible.

Bucky’s mewling incoherently now, tears still clinging to his eyes as his limbs turn from solid flesh and bone to a rubbery mess of pliant gel.

Steve takes a finger, slipping it inside next to his tongue and working it in and out slowly.

“Oh fuck, Steve that’s so good,” Bucky gasps as he pushes his hips down on Steve. “I can’t believe you’re here. I can’t believe this is real.”

Steve laughs into Bucky’s hole, coming up to press kisses against Bucky’s ass cheeks. “I’m really here. It’s real.”

Bucky looks down, smiling like the dope that he is. “You’re fucking good at this.”

“I like eating you out. You taste good.”

Bucky laughs, rolling his eyes. “I kinda doubt that, but sure.”

Steve nips adoringly at one of Bucky’s cheeks, never breaking eye contact. “Let me dote on you with compliments you jerk.”

Bucky’s eyes widen in amused shock. “Oh that’s how it is? Quit your compliments and shove that tongue back in me.”

Steve gives a mock salute before dipping back into Bucky’s ass, darting that tongue out again and slipping it inside.

Bucky purrs happily, nestling back into the carpet as Steve’s tongue swirls inside him, pumping in and out softly. He’s petting Steve’s hair, stroking his fingers through those silken short strands, watching as Steve rocks back and forth into Bucky’s hole.

Steve reaches up with that finger again and gets it shiny and wet with saliva before dipping it into Bucky’s ass. He pushes a second one in next to it, twisting and coiling them as he rocks them in and out. They press against Bucky’s prostate, swirling against it before pulling back to repeat the gesture.

Bucky sighs in contentment. Steve’s not going too fast or too slow. It’s just enough for Bucky to feel satisfied and happy. His body is so warm against the floor, humming as Steve continues to pump in and out of him, his tongue trailing around the exterior of Bucky’s hole.

Bucky squeezes around those fingers, feeling them push up into his prostate. He whines, holding them there and Steve listens. He stops moving, letting Bucky take control as Bucky swirls his hips down, still keeping his muscles clamped tight around those digits.

Steve’s tongue is trailing around his hole still, his lips pressing around it to suck along the rim.

Bucky’s eyes flutter shut as he rocks his hips back and forth slowly, fucking himself onto Steve’s fingers. “Want more, Stevie,” Bucky breathes. “Want your big cock in me.”

Steve chuckles softly, kissing at Bucky’s thighs. “Gotta get you into the bedroom.”

“Pick me up and carry me,” Bucky instructs. “I can’t walk.” He drops his limbs around Steve, a bit more overdramatic than probably necessary but Steve humors him by scooping under his ass and pulling him up.

Steve wraps Bucky’s legs around him, pressing the gentlest kisses to the tip of his nose and then over Bucky’s lips. Bucky whines, rolling his hips into Steve, feeling his cock slip up the man’s abs. “You’re gonna make me explode.”

“That’d be messy,” Steve indulges as he walks them down the hallway. “Which room?”

“The last one,” Bucky replies sleepily, dropping his chin on Steve’s shoulder. A cold fear finds its way up Bucky’s tailbone, slipping along his spine and stilling his heart. He curls his fingers into Steve’s shirt, hiccupping. Steve’s only here for a short time, then he’ll be gone again and what then? Does Steve want to go public with dating Bucky? He’s never been public with men before. Is this all going to be swept under a rug and Bucky’s going to have to sign a nondisclosure agreement?

“Hey,” Steve coos, cupping a hand behind Bucky’s head and gently petting his hair. “You okay?”

“What are we?” Bucky asks, making Steve freeze just as he enters Bucky’s room. “I mean, are you just gonna…am I…”

“We’re dating,” Steve responds, his voice full of conviction. “I like you, Bucky. I’ve told you that.”

“But you’re gonna leave again.”

“And then I’ll be back. I’ve got more than just my ma waiting for me here now.” He presses a kiss to Bucky’s head before laying the man down easily on the bed.

“Can I tell people?” Bucky asks as Steve’s nestling himself between Bucky’s legs again, brushing his lips over Bucky’s tip. Bucky tenses, breathing out a shaky breath as he looks his gaze with Steve’s. “M’sorry I’m clingy.”

Steve smiles, pressing the most adorable kiss to Bucky’s cock Bucky’s ever seen. “I like your type of clingy,” Steve explains, running his nose along Bucky’s inner thigh, using it to brush unintelligible pictures against Bucky’s skin.

“Why? I thought clingy people get annoying,” Bucky ventures. He knows he’s seeking reassurance but…he can’t help it. He needs it. Steve’s so out of his league it’s not even funny. They’re on two different playing fields. Steve’s a big movie star and Bucky’s just some dumbass who decided going to law school was a good idea. He doesn’t even want to be an attorney. He honestly wants the degree to do something more specialized, like working for the FBI or a civilian-contracted job with the military. Steve’s already doing what he loves and Bucky’s still floundering around trying to figure out what he wants to do with his life.

Steve moves to pull Bucky into his chest. He’s still clothed and Bucky’s still bare-ass naked. That bothers Bucky, to he takes some initiative and his hands roam to Steve’s fly and undoes his pants. He slips his fingers in, feeling how big Steve is. He’s not hung like a horse (thank God) but he’s thick, hot, hard and big enough that Bucky’s already worried he’s going to have to really work to take this all in him. Steve hisses, jerking his hips up a bit to make Bucky pump against his cock.

Bucky pulls a hand back, spitting into it before reaching back into Steve’s pants, both hands slipping up and down the man’s length. He uses one hand to palm over the tip, just twisting it from side to side. His other hand is pumping slowly, squeezing softly to get pretty little groans from his movie star.

Steve bangs his head back on the headboard, his mouth open and tongue gliding back along his teeth.

Bucky feels a warm sense of accomplishment spread against his skin. He’s making Steve sound like this. He’s making him squirm beneath his fingers. It’s all because of Bucky that Steve looks so relaxed and good.

Bucky moves to tug at Steve’s pants but Steve stops him, his hand coming around one of Bucky’s wrists. Bucky looks at him with confused large eyes.

“We’re talking,” Steve reminds him. “I like your kind of clingy because it’s just me you want. Not my name or the connections I could give you.”

“Connections?” Bucky asks as he cocks a brow up. He drops his hands, foregoing the idea of taking Steve’s pants off for now.

Steve shifts, grabbing Bucky’s hand and directing back to his dick. “You could keep doing what you were doing before though.”

Bucky laughs, but he slips his fingers beneath Steve’s blue briefs and palms over his tip, circling over and over against it.

Steve grits his teeth, his eyes fluttering as he moves to lean forward and press his head to Bucky’s shoulder. “That feels so damn good.”

“I’ve always thought palming felt the best. The lines in the skin really make it feel good.”

Steve hums, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s shoulder. “Not done with your ass though.”

Bucky chortles, turning his face in to press a kiss to Steve’s jaw. “You can eat me out all night if you want.”

“You may regret that,” Steve jokes, nibbling softly at the bone in Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky moans softly, grinding his hips down into the bed. “We…were…talking…a-about–” He gasps when Steve gets his fingers around Bucky’s cock and starts stroking him too, using his thumb to swirl at the tip. “Connections!”

Steve puffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s cheek. “The fact that I can hold a conversation with you right now is kinda unique.”

“Mmm, I’m unique,” Bucky says, mostly joking.

“You are,” Steve says, completely serious. “But can we talk about why I like your kind of clingy later? I really just wanna bury my face in your ass again.”

Bucky pulls back from Steve’s cock, giving it one last jerk before crawling down the bed to drop his face at the foot of it, his ass up in the air. “Eat me out, Stevie?” he asks in the most pathetically, pitchy voice he can muster, wiggling his ass for dramatic effect.

Steve gasps, his eyes going round in what only Bucky can describe as awe. Steve moves to slip out of his pants and shrugs off his shirt.

Bucky wants to turn back around and touch him but Steve’s already wrapping a hand around to Bucky’s cock and using the other to help spread his cheeks again. He dips his tongue along Bucky’s hole, pressing his lips against it to suck along the rim. He rocks Bucky forward with a thrust of his body to get his face firmly pressed against it.

Bucky moans loudly, pushing his face into the bed as Steve’s tongue slides into him, swirling around forcefully and coating him up with warm saliva.

Steve’s stroking Bucky’s cock, slipping his palm over the tip just as Bucky did a moment before and just twisting from side to side. The grooves in his hands glide effortlessly over it and Bucky’s left groaning into the sheets, his body trembling from the sensation.

Steve laughs against Bucky’s hole, the vibrations etching into his muscles and traveling into his groin.

“God, I fucking adore you,” Bucky growls, his face still pressed into the sheets, though he turns his face when he needs to breathe again.

Steve hums in response, sucking against Bucky’s rim. He pulls back only for a second before he pushes his tongue inside, flattening it out and pumping it back and forth. He laps a thick streak against Bucky’s hole, slipping his tongue in and then up to Bucky’s tailbone before going down again to start at Bucky’s perineum.

Bucky’s howling into the sheets, curling his fists into them as he rocks back on Steve’s face. Either Steve’s showing off or Steve’s got the best damn tongue this side of the world. Bucky grabs Steve’s hand around his cock, pulling it away. “Gonna come…don’t…”

Steve pulls back to say, “You can come if you want to. I don’t mind.”

“I don’t…wanna come with you,” Bucky whispers back.

Steve sighs, but Bucky can see that smile (upside down to him in his position right now) from the curtain of his hair around his face. “Where’s your lube?”

“Dresser, top drawer,” Bucky instructs as he points a shaky finger over to it.

Steve gets off the bed.

Bucky whimpers from the loss of contact. His ass is freezing without Steve against it and he shivers but doesn’t move. Steve’s unreal, his patience and understanding limitless. Everything he’s doing, he’s doing for Bucky and Bucky doesn’t know how to take that. He’s humoring him by making sure they come together, he’s trying to answer his questions despite how hard Bucky’s making it possible. He’s doing everything to make Bucky feel comfortable and it’s dizzying, sending Bucky swirling into a bliss he’s never experienced before. He’s not afraid of anything with Steve around. Maybe it’s because Steve plays Captain America, the honorable, genuinely good man that Bucky’s admired for several years now, but Bucky trusts this man with his life. And that’s not saying too much, considering Bucky’s a needy little shit, but he feels safe enough to know that being clingy with Steve is okay. He’s not like the other guys Bucky’s dated. He gets Bucky.

Steve comes back behind Bucky, squirting out some lubricant onto his fingers and coating them up. He pushes three in slowly.

Bucky moans, pushing back against those digits, his legs trembling from the slight discomfort he feels at three going after Steve’s tongue. It doesn’t hurt, just a slight burn that subsides after Steve pushes back and rocks forward again.

“This okay?” Steve asks.

Bucky could sing. All the questions, all the attention. He’s never felt someone so attentive to him before. Steve pauses each time he pulls back, waiting for some kind of signal from Bucky (usually Bucky pushing back on his fingers) before he moves again. It’s a conversation all its own and Bucky’s left reeling in euphoria from it. He feels safe, so safe and so happy with Steve.

Steve could strap him into a fucking cannon and tell him it’d be okay, and Bucky would believe him.

“It’s good, Steve,” Bucky whines, rocking back onto those fingers again. “Fuck me with ‘em.”

Steve nods and rocks his fingers faster, in and out, in and out. He’s curling them a bit so they pull at Bucky’s rim, stretching it a bit and each time he does, Bucky lets out tiny mewling sounds.

Bucky’s pressing his face into the sheets again, rocking back against Steve’s delicious fingers as they fuck into his body. His muscles are clenching as much as they can to keep those fingers inside him, but Steve’s slicked up, and they easily escape him, much to his dismay. Thankfully Bucky doesn’t have to wait too long for them to come back to him each and every time. His bones are humming in him, warming him up and pushing a thin layer of sweat against his skin.

Steve pushes against his prostate, thrumming his fingers against it softly, pulling a long vibrato from Bucky’s needy mouth.

“Wanna…wanna see you,” Bucky pants.

Steve pulls back, helping Bucky onto his back. He pushes his fingers back inside Bucky, moving so they can kiss each other softly. He traces his tongue over Bucky’s lips and Bucky nearly shrieks in delight at so much tongue from a man who seemed so reluctant to use it before.

Bucky’s heart is fluttering inside him, ticking against his rib cage as it beats with adoration and devotion to this man. Bucky falls in love fast. He knows it. It doesn’t’ help that he’s wanted this man since he was twenty. Five years of longing for a man he never thought he’d have, and suddenly Steve was here.

Steve had so much catching up to do and Bucky wanted to make this man love him.

Bucky didn’t want to think about what would happen if Steve left him now.

He whimpers as Steve’s fingers swirl against his prostate again.

“You’re okay,” Steve whispers, his lips still pressed against Bucky’s. “You’re so beautiful, Bucky.”

“Nnngh! St-Steve…feels so good.”

“I want you to,” Steve indulges. “I want you to feel better than you’ve ever felt.”

“God!” Bucky gasps as Steve pushes up into him, his fingers flush against his prostate and he lets them linger against it, pressing and swirling around it. “Steve…Steve! Fuck! Fuck, Steve! I can’t! I can’t!” Bucky’s nearly shrieking against Steve’s face as the pleasure hits him to hard.

Steve pulls back, pressing kisses against Bucky’s cheek and cooing softly, his chest rumbling against Bucky’s shoulder. “You’re okay, you’re okay, Bucky. You’re doing so good.”

“Want you in me,” Bucky growls. He can’t take it anymore. Steve’s too fucking good at this and his patience is almost inhuman. Bucky opens his eyes to see his purpling dick, drooling precome along his length and that’s fucking it. “Wanna ride you.”

Steve nods and reaches over to his pants to pull out a condom.

Bucky shakily gets onto his hands and knees again, watching Steve bring the condom over his cock.

“You sure you can?”

“Yes,” Bucky groans out through clenched teeth. “Just lemme ride you.”

Steve nods, lying back, but he helps guide Bucky onto him, grabbing his dick and angling it up. “You’re doing good, baby.”

Bucky wants to cry. It’s pathetic and shameful at how he feels right now. But he’s known this man so much longer than he’s known the catfish he’s spoken to. He’s read interviews, watched the movies, seen the press releases. He’s laughed along with Nat as Steve does something stupid and they would call him cute nicknames or say how much they hate him when it was anything but. He’s fantasized about this man and now here he is, looking up at Bucky with eyes just as trusting as Bucky’s.

Bucky grabs Steve’s dick, letting his knees slip against the sheets so he can drop himself slowly atop Steve’s cock. He winces when he gets the head inside him, stretching him out wide. “Fuck, you’re big…”

“I’m sorry,” Steve responds.

Bucky whimpers, feeling a lump lodge itself in his throat. The first thing Steve says isn’t ‘that’s what they all say’ or ‘that’s what he said.’ It’s earnest and kind and disgustingly Steve Rogers.

“Feels good,” Bucky says before he says something embarrassing, like how much he adores this man or how happy he’s made him in such a short time.

Bucky sits atop Steve, feeling his ass press against Steve’s thighs. He’s shivering from the slight burn in his ass and the delectable sensation of feeling full. It’s the best fucking feeling in the God damned world and Bucky would never get off Steve if it was physically possible. He runs the pads of his fingers down Steve’s torso, starting at the tops of his breasts, over the nipples and down along the slopes of his abdomen. He traces along the Adonis lines and not once does Steve buck his hips up or whine for Bucky to move, and that patience, that trust that Steve’s giving Bucky is the most intoxicating feeling that Bucky’s ever felt. It’s bubbling up in his stomach, rising against his chest and ticking at the back of his throat until he can’t do anything but laugh.

Steve quirks a brow, clenching his teeth as Bucky’s muscles flutter around his cock. “What’s so funny?”

“N-nothing. It’s not funny. It’s just… It’s just so good.”

Steve smiles, still looking a bit unsure of himself.

“You’re so patient,” Bucky analyzes, squeezing around Steve’s cock and watching the man’s muscles tense beneath him.

“Is that okay?”

Bucky barks out a laugh, leaning up on his knees and slowly slipping back over Steve’s cock, pulling a groan from Steve. “You’re inhuman.”

“That didn’t answer the question,” Steve says, grabbing Bucky’s hips lightly and rocking against Bucky, matching his slow rhythm.

Bucky swirls his hips, grinding forcefully against Steve’s cock. He tosses his head back, gasping at feeling so full and spread open. He pushes up, feeling Steve’s cock balancing against his rim before slipping back over it with ease.

Steve moans, one of his hands moving to press against Bucky’s abdomen. “Oh God, Bucky,” he hisses.

“I like how patient you are,” Bucky finally answers, bouncing lightly over Steve’s cock. He leans forward, placing a hand around Steve’s throat.

Steve stiffens for a second, one of his hands moving, probably to deflect Bucky’s hand from his throat but then he just puts it back against Bucky’s hip.

Bucky rolls his body, full pronounced body rolls, starting at his neck and moving down into his thighs. Steve’s so warm inside him and he’s drunk on feeling so full and so in control. His hand is around Steve’s neck and if he squeezed, he could choke the man but he’d never want to hurt him. It’s just the idea that Steve’s letting him. He’s trusting Bucky not to hurt him, and it’s so beautiful.

Bucky bounces his hips more, full thrusts up and down from base to the tip of Steve’s cock and slamming back down again. He’s moaning out tiny little yelps, his jaw dropping open.

Steve’s panting beneath him, matching his rhythm and moving his hands to hold onto Bucky’s sides.

Bucky’s takes his other hand and angles his cock down so it’s rubbing against the dips and plateaus of Steve’s abs. His eyes roll back into his head as he moans out loudly, “Oh fuck!”

Steve pushes up into Bucky’s hole, snapping his hips quickly, matching how Bucky’s bouncing atop him.

Bucky’s hand is still pressed against Steve’s throat. He squeezes just lightly when he almost loses his balance.

Steve gasps but he doesn’t move it away.

“Oh God, Steve!” Bucky cries out. “God you’re so good. Feel so good in me.”

Steve groans, rolling his hips up to push against Bucky’s prostate. He extends his neck, moaning loudly. “Bucky…Bucky…fuck…fuck…” He’s panting, chanting Bucky’s name as if it’s the only thing he knows. His eyes are glazing over with adoration and pleasure.

Bucky’s giving him this. He’s riding Steve, pumping and pulling that dick inside him, squeezing around him and giving him everything he can. He’s keeping his hand securely on Steve’s throat, just squeezing every now and then to feel his heart flutter when Steve doesn’t fight it. He wants to squeeze more, just to see how far this man would let him go but he’s too afraid of breaking the trust they’ve built with each other.

Bucky rolls down onto Steve’s cock, howling out when the tip presses flush against his prostate. He’s shaking atop Steve, his limbs barely holding as he continues to ride this man’s thick, beautiful cock.

“Look at me,” Steve whispers. “Bucky, look at me.”

Bucky immediately looks into Steve’s eyes, gasping at what he sees reflected. Trust, infatuation, desire, lust, ecstasy– everything that Bucky prays is reflected in his own eyes.

Bucky’s eyes round out when he notices the shimmer in Steve’s eyes isn’t desire, they’re tears.

Bucky pauses, hovering over Steve as if he’s broken him and afraid to assess the damage.

Steve takes Bucky’s hand from his throat and kisses the palm before putting it back. Bucky whimpers from the gesture. “I just wanna see your face.”

“God, Steve,” Bucky breathes out. “I don’t ever want you out of me.”

Steve laughs, pushing up and grabbing Bucky to gently knock him into the bed.

Bucky yelps, feeling Steve’s cock shove against his prostate again. “Oh God!” Bucky moans loudly, hooking his ankles behind Steve’s torso as the man pumps in and out of him, giving Bucky long, good thrusts that have him feeling absolutely everything. “Steve, you’re so good, you’re so good, so good, so good!”

Steve laughs, nipping at Bucky’s nose. He thrusts up into Bucky, pushing his cockhead against Bucky’s prostate each and every time, getting howls and strings of cusses out of Bucky’s swollen lips. “You’re so pretty, Bucky,” Steve praises, pressing kisses to the side of his face. “My God, you’re so fucking pretty.”

Bucky wraps his arms around Steve, rocking his ass up to meet Steve’s thrusts, squeezing his muscles around this man in a desperate attempt to lock him inside Bucky forever.

Tears are welling in Bucky’s eyes but he’s not ashamed of them. Steve’s been crying and Bucky wants to ask why but he’s too scared to ruin this. He keeps meeting Steve’s thrusts, feeling that thick cock press in and out of him, hover at his rim and bury itself deep inside of him. He’s hot and cold, hot and cold with each thrust. He needs this man inside him, to stay with him forever and ever until he can’t move or breathe.

“B-Bucky,” Steve groans, still finding a way to press new kisses against Bucky’s face.

Bucky grabs Steve’s face, pulling him into a desperate kiss. Their mouths awkwardly twist around each other and teeth clatter almost painfully but Bucky couldn’t care less. He’s warm with Steve inside him and freezing when he’s almost out. He presses loud, wet kisses to Steve’s lips, holding the man against him so their nipples are even glazing over each other.

“I…I…I…” Bucky whines rhythmically to Steve’s thrusts as the blond pulls up for a moment.

“Shh,” Steve coos, dipping his head to press kisses into Bucky’s neck. “You’re okay, baby.”

“God, I want you forever,” Bucky groans, clenching his hole as tight as he can around Steve, causing the man to moan loudly against his throat. “I want you forever and fucking ever, Stevie.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, his thrusts getting faster, more urgent. “You’re so good, baby. So fucking stunning.”

There’s that word again. The word that makes Bucky’s heart soar over the sky and out into the universe. He grabs Steve’s face again, pushing desperate kisses against swollen red lips. He rocks back and forth against Steve’s cock, shivering and whining into Steve’s mouth when Steve hits his prostate.

He’s so full. He’s so full of Steve, pleasure, love, happiness. Love? Yes, probably. Maybe. He’s not sure. He’s said he’s in love with Captain America but is he in love with Steve Rogers too? He’s just in theory met the man after a couple months of chatting online or the phone. Is it love?

Steve rocks up into him, grabbing his cock and jerking it quickly.

“Ah! St-Steve, Ste-eve!” Bucky whines, gasping for breath.

“Gonna come, baby,” Steve informs. “Gonna come and I want you coming with me.”

Bucky nods, circling his hips back into Steve, trying as hard as he can to make this the best damn sex Steve’s ever had. He arches his back again, finding Steve’s nipples with his own and manages to swivel around them.

Steve’s howling, locating Bucky’s lips and kissing them forcefully. They’re so close, bodies so close, so connected and so, so hot.

“Steve,” Bucky whines, feeling his muscles clamp up in his groin. His heels are digging into Steve’s back and he’s sure he’s causing pain but he can’t stop. Steve’s hand is so warm around his dick, jerking him quickly, flicking his wrist so flawlessly and his cock is filling Bucky up so nice, making him feel so good.

He can’t last. He won’t last.

Tears are spilling from his eyes as he comes into Steve’s hand, his muscles clamping around Steve’s cock and Steve’s moaning loudly, his thrusts slowing into sharp, forceful thrusts that hit Bucky’s prostate each time.

Steve’s mouth finds his again as they come together, muscles trembling, mouths whimpering.

Bucky’s on fire but his toes are going cold and his tears feel like ice against his face. But Steve’s lips are warm and his body so perfect folded into his. He cries out when the pleasure turns to almost pain and Steve lets go of his cock, letting it rub up and down his abdomen as they continue to rock into each other.

“You’re beautiful,” Steve whispers, pressing kisses down Bucky’s jaw. “So fucking beautiful.”

Bucky grabs Steve’s chin and guides those lips to his, pressing tender kisses to them, warm and content and so blissfully happy. “You’re beautiful.”

Steve moves to pull out but Bucky squeezes his legs around him. “No!” Bucky shouts.

“What?”

“Want you to stay in me for a bit,” Bucky mumbles.

“Okay,” Steve responds. He still turns them to they’re on their sides, both heads pressed into the pillows Bucky’s sure he hasn’t washed in over a month. He’ll need to do that now.

“So was I the best?” Bucky jokes, a crooked grin coming to his lips.

Steve makes a face like he’s considering, looking up at his brows and pushing his lips together. “Ehhh.”

“Oh you little shit!” Bucky exclaims, lightly swatting Steve’s chest, laughing as he watches the muscle ripple.

“Hey!” Steve laughs. He pulls Bucky into a kiss, rocking his hips into him so Bucky’s moaning into it. “Yeah, you’re probably the best.”

“Probably?”

“Well we’re still having sex, so. I can’t say for sure yet. It could still go horribly wrong.”

“Wow, smartass over here.”

Steve pulls Bucky into his arms, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Mmm, yeah.”

Bucky clings his legs tighter around Steve, holding him securely in place. “I don’t wanna let you.”

“I can stay all night if you want,” Steve details.

“Really?” Bucky asks, his eyes round. He instantly recoils, blinking and saying, “I mean, if you want.”

Steve laughs, the sensation pushing his dick up into Bucky more. “I’d love to see you first thing in the morning. That’s always the make or break deal.”

“Seriously? Aw man, I’m doomed! I’m always gross as fuck in the morning.”

“Mmm, I’m sure. Slobber all over your face and bedhead for days.”

“Yeah,” Bucky encourages, all smiles and jittery nerves. “A real train wreck.”

“Sounds like just the kinda guy I wanna wake up with,” Steve consoles. “I hate the kind that look too pretty in the morning.”

Bucky giggles, pressing himself into Steve so Steve’s got his chin over his head. “Ha. Good. Fuck those guys.”

“Yeah, fuck those guys!”

“Get your dick outta me now,” Bucky laughs, pushing off Steve and slipping off his cock. He whimpers from the loss of contact but this guy’s such a goofball he can’t keep this up without laughing too much, and laughing just makes his dick hard again. “So you said…you don’t mind clingy?”

Steve rolls his eyes, but his smile is inviting. “Not your kind.”

“What’d you mean?” Bucky watches Steve stand up and snap the condom off.

“Where’s your bathroom?”

“First door on the right in the hallway.”

Steve leaves and comes back almost as quick as he left. He drops onto the bed, pulling Bucky into his chest and letting the man lie atop him.

Bucky presses his ear to Steve’s chest, listening to the gentle thumping of his heart. He could fall asleep to this…

“I meant that some people just see me as a name and not a person. Like, if I’m your friend, I’m gonna suddenly get you jobs or introduce you to certain actors. It’s a networking game, I know, but I hate when I know you’re only around to get to other people.”

“People seriously do that? With you?” He presses his chin to Steve’s sternum.

Steve smiles, gently flicking Bucky’s nose. “Yeah.”

“Do they not realize it’s a fucking blessing to have you in their lives?”

Steve freezes, his eyes doing that thing again where he looks like he’s crying but Bucky’s not entirely sure if it’s actually happening or not. “You’re too nice.”

“Pff, fuck that. I’m as nice as a damn cactus,” Bucky defends, scrunching up his face to try to look mean.

Steve barks out a laugh, turning them sideways and wrapping himself around Bucky, arms and legs. He buries his face into Bucky’s neck and nips it playfully.

“Hey!” Bucky shouts happily, but he’s cradling Steve’s head and running his fingers lazily through his hair. “You’re a fuckin’ monkey!”

“I’m glad I met you,” Steve says, unfurling himself from around Bucky. Bucky instantly feels cold again.

“I’m glad you met me too,” Bucky whispers.

“When’s your next break from school?” Steve suddenly asks, trailing his knuckles up and down Bucky’s jaw.

“Thanksgiving,” Bucky details. “Why?”

“Do you wanna come to LA?”

“I can’t afford that,” Bucky replies, feeling his heart sink in shame. Money isn’t an issue to Steve, he’s sure, but it’s a big deal to a broke ass college student like Bucky.

“I can pay, it’s not an issue.”

“I can’t ask you to do that, Steve,” Bucky argues. His tone is light but he can’t hide the flash of anger in his eyes. He hates feeling like he owes people something because he uses their money. Bucky’s never been in the business of feeling okay with people controlling him.

“Then if you don’t wanna come there, can I come back here?”

Bucky smiles, so happy that Steve didn’t press the issue. “Please?”

Steve kisses him on the lips, quick, dry and chaste. “Then I’ll come here. But I’m gettin’ the turkey. No if’s and’s or but’s about it.”

“Fine,” Bucky exhales, still smiling. “So…we’re dating?”

“Yeah,” Steve responds.

“And I can tell my friends?”

“Yes, Bucky,” Steve indulges.

“Are you gonna make me sign nondisclosure papers?”

Steve’s eyes practically bug from his face. “What?!”

Bucky sits up, panic surging through him. “I just mean, ‘cause you’re famous! And you don’t want people to know you like guys!”

“Bucky,” Steve says, placing a hand on Bucky’s knee. “I don’t care if people know I like guys. I just haven’t dated any guys since Captain America got so big. No one cared that I had boyfriends before I was Cap.”

“So…does that mean you’re not hiding it?”

“I’ve never been hiding it. I just, haven’t exactly been overtly open with it.”

“So what does that mean for us?” Bucky asks meekly.

Steve pulls Bucky back into him, placing him on his lap and pulling his back to his chest. “It means I’ll deal with an annoying ‘coming out’ scandal and we just go about our lives.”

“A scandal doesn’t exactly sound fun,” Bucky sulks, but he goes pliant when he feels Steve’s fingers running through his hair.

“It’s just Hollywood. I’ll get a bump in google searches for about a week or two and maybe a news station will talk about it and that’ll be it. It’s nothing interesting. No one really cares that actors are gay or not anymore.”

“That’s a good thing,” Bucky defends, running his fingers up and down his left arm to feel the goosebumps that Steve’s pulled from his body as he continues to massage at Bucky’s scalp.

“Yes it is,” Steve agrees softly. He’s too patient with Bucky. It’s too good and there’s too much hope in Bucky’s heart now. He wants this to work. He knows he’s got his problems– like being needy and always pushing boundaries but he’ll try to get better at it. Steve’s patient and that works in Bucky’s favor, because he knows Steve won’t snap at him the second he messes up, or at least he thinks he wouldn’t.

“Do you wanna binge watch Grey’s Anatomy with me and eat an absurd amount of ice cream?” Bucky asks, wanting to get out of this feeling of needing too much from Steve. He needs to find his footing again before he starts breaking down crying about how this guy can even like him.

Steve purses his lips, shrugging. “Sure, I was actually in a movie with Miranda’s little sister.”

“Seriously?” Bucky asks as he yanks Steve up and scampers to his dresser for a pair of gym shorts. “Do you want some sweats?”

“You mean I get to wear your clothes already?” Steve asks, coming around Bucky and pulling him against his chest before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“You’ve got three seconds before I decide you stay naked, and honestly, that wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

“I’ll take some sweat pants, yeah,” Steve answers. He presses another kiss to the nape of Bucky’s neck as Bucky moves to grab some sweats.

They walk into the living room, Bucky giggling as he remembers the start of their time here. Steve drops onto the couch and Bucky slips into the kitchen to grab the ice cream and spoons. He drops into the couch and Steve pulls him into his chest.

They get about ten minutes into the first episode before Steve finds his way back into Bucky’s pants again.

Turns out, Steve wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to eat Bucky out all night.