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The linen closet on the third floor of Daniel Parker's opulent hunting lodge was filled with sturdy shelves, high-thread-count sheets, and two well-built men. Sam Wilson, being one of those men, was regretting his chosen hiding spot.
"Figure half an hour until the guests leave," Bucky said, his low, quiet voice sending prickles along Sam's skin.
Daniel Parker was a man that had made hundreds of millions of dollars, and then, instead of retiring to a life of luxury, decided to go into weapons smuggling. Sam and Bucky were doing a pretty simple get-in, get-out-with-the-evidence at the request of the state of Montana, where Parker had set up shop. They'd used one of his regular large parties as an excuse to get in. Now all they needed to do was hide until the place was a little emptier, grab the stuff, and book it into the woods where they had an escape vehicle waiting. Easy.
Except the closet was too damn small, and the attraction Sam had for his now-regular partner was not helping him stay cool, calm, and collected. Not when they were standing practically between each other's legs. Not when the dark made Sam feel every sensation, hear every breath and shift. Not when he had to hold himself carefully, his hips rotated that perfect amount so Bucky didn't feel Sam's rock hard erection crashing into his hip.
They should have found different closets, and just texted each other when it was time to move. Sam's hip was starting to cramp, and he wondered if he just shifted a little more weight to his left foot, maybe he'd—
"We're not going to die if we touch, just—here," Bucky said, and then grabbed Sam's hips and pulled Sam flush against him. Sam's hips twisted, and before he could stop it, Sam's hard cock was pressed cozily into the crease of Bucky's hip. And even as Sam was fighting not to groan with the pleasure of it, his own thigh slotted between Bucky's legs. Sam's hip pressed into the V of Bucky's groin, so close and intimate Sam could feel how very hard Bucky wasn't.
Clearly, whatever Sam felt, it only went one way.
"Sorry," Sam said, and tried to ignore the sick thread of humiliation that went through him as he carefully went to shift away again.
"Stop," Bucky hissed. He shifted his grip until he was practically groping Sam's ass, and ground Sam's cock against his hip again. Like they were humping. Like this was mutual.
Sam gasped, "Fuck," and his traitorous hips thrust against Bucky. The two layers of formal trousers didn't seem like any sort of barrier at all.
"You want this," Bucky said, not a question, as he rocked into Sam, giving Sam even more friction.
It would have been everything Sam had ever wanted, except…against Sam's hip, Bucky's cock was still completely uninterested in the proceedings.
"Yeah, well," Sam moved his hip to press a little more firmly against Bucky's soft cock. "I can tell you don't. So, sorry, and let me go."
Bucky did let Sam go, but with a sigh. After a moment, he said, "I'm not going to get hard."
"Right," Sam said, as he found that trying to get distance again was even harder now that he was, well even harder. "The lack of attraction was obvious, thanks."
"Attraction doesn't mean erection," Bucky grit through his teeth.
Sam snorted. "Don't tell me, super-serum means you can control when you pop a boner?"
"No," Bucky said dryly. "More like Hydra didn't want their weapon distracted."
Sam froze, all thoughts of finding a comfortable position vanishing from his mind. "Shit. Seriously?"
"Seriously," Bucky said, and his voice was as neutral as if he had been talking about the weather, not being chemically castrated by a terrorist organization. "But let me tell you, it does not stop me from appreciating how hot you look in that suit. The way that dark purple shimmers against your skin…gorgeous."
"You really—" Sam spluttered, indignation and embarrassment warring for the top spot in his emotional landscape. "You're going to drop your trauma on me, and then follow it up with, 'Hey, you're hot. Wanna hump me?'"
"I did not say, 'wanna hump me,'" Bucky grumbled. "And it's not a trauma. All the brainwashing and murdering, that's the trauma. This? It's nice, most of the time. I get to feel good and not worry about how well my pants are gonna fit. The only time it's a problem is when somebody else gets all weird and self-conscious about it."
Sam swallowed, and made a concerted effort to stop being so weird and self-conscious about it. He decided to find something else to be angry about. "But...now? We've been dancing around each other for ten damn months and now is when you decide to mention something?"
Bucky chuckled softly. After a couple uncertain starts, his hands found Sam's waist, and he tentatively pulled Sam back toward him. Sam went, letting his cock settle against Bucky's stomach. Excitement pressed high in his throat, the thrill of being close again. His cock had softened a little during all the revelations, but with the radiating warmth and press of Bucky's body, it wasn't going to stay that way much longer.
"We're stuck in the closet until the party guests leave, and I can feel every inch of your perfect muscles against me," Bucky said softly, and one hand went up, splaying over Sam's shoulder blade. "I can't stop thinking about how good you looked, grinning and dancing your way through the party. The way your jacket hugs your shoulders, the taper of your waist," Bucky's other hand slid down and squeezed, "and the curve of your ass in those trousers. So...yeah. Seemed like a good time."
Anybody else, Sam might have thought it was a powerplay, something to try to get Sam vulnerable, or to cross a line. But this was Bucky. Bucky, who he'd fought with and fought beside and who had seen Sam messy, broken, and triumphant. Bucky who'd showed up as Sam's partner even when he hadn't had to. Bucky who kept showing up, who ate dinner with Sam at his sister's house and played with his nephews.
Bucky might lie to him, but not about this. So if he said he was into it, and, now that Sam was thinking beyond the evidence of a hard cock, he noticed plenty of signs—the breaths brushing across Sam's cheeks went just a little too fast, Bucky's face felt warmer than usual, and when Sam brought a hand up to lay his fingers against Bucky's neck, the thud thud thud of blood thrummed at a heady pace.
"Alright," Sam said, yielding to his own better judgement, and leaned in for a kiss.
Of course, that was when the closet door opened and a startled looking maid stared at them with wide eyes.
"Shit," Bucky muttered, and shoved Sam away to grab her. Bucky tied her up with the expensive linens and sincere apologies, explaining that she'd be in less trouble if it looked good. He wasn't gonna hurt her, no, just enjoy a nice nap in this closet, here, let me knock some linens off and make it comfy for you. You good? Okay, you're going to be able to get out of that in about twenty minutes, but I'd suggest you take ten before starting to work the knot, so you stay out of the crossfire.
"We could have just continued making out," Sam pointed out, after all that was done and the closet door was gently closed. "That's a pretty good excuse for hiding in a closet."
Bucky slowed down, and slapped his head. He looked back at the door.
"No, too late now. Come on. It's quiet enough, let's grab the stuff and go before anyone notices."
The rest of the op went smoothly, thank god, and Sam and Bucky were out the door, across the stupidly big lawn, and into the forest where their car was waiting before anyone else stumbled across them.
They drove for about three hours before pulling into a roadside motel. Montana state government had provided a budget for expenses, but it wasn't a generous stipend. Still, enough for them to stay at a motel where the sheets were reasonably clean, and the rooms mostly clear of roaches.
"I'll get food while you upload the thumbdrive," Bucky said.
"Wearing that?" Sam said, arching an eyebrow at the suit.
Bucky flipped Sam off as he efficiently traded out his suit jacket for a beat up leather one, and swapped his dress shoes for his sneakers. Sam had to admit that most people wouldn't look twice at him now, even if his formal silk trousers were far too fancy for the rest of his outfit. Bucky waved and left Sam to wrestle with the motel room's shitty wifi.
Sam wondered if they were going to circle back to, well, everything. He looked down at his own suit, and debated getting more comfortable, but the way Bucky's voice had purred about the purple sheen made Sam want to keep it on a little bit longer. Just to see where things went.
As Sam clicked through establishing a secure collection so he could upload the evidence, he thought about what Bucky had said. How the problem wasn't that he couldn't get hard anymore, the problem was other people feeling weird about it.
Sam had had a girlfriend in college, once, who would always tap out after about fifteen minutes of Sam giving her oral. She never came. She insisted she had a good time, though, just enjoyed being with him. Sam grumbled, frustrated that she was giving up instead of letting Sam get her there.
The fifth or sixth time they'd had that fight, she had grabbed his chin, looked him in the eyes, and asked, "Is this about my pleasure, or your pride?"
At the time he had been too young and dumb to admit it was about his pride. Sam kept feeling like their time together was a failure, and she got (rightly) exasperated with his refusal to take his head out of his own ass. They hadn't lasted long after. But in the years between now and his younger, dumber self, Sam liked to think he had grown. He liked to think he could listen a little better now, and not decide something was broken just because it didn't look like he expected.
Bucky came back with burgers just about the time that Sam finished uploading the file. He tossed one bag on the desk, before sitting on the nearby bed, so close his knees almost brushed against Sam's as he settled in. Sam ate the offered burger, barely tasting it as he debated between opening the 'hey so the grinding up on each other was really hot but also complicated' can of worms or just ignoring it forever.
"So I bought condoms and lube," Bucky said, and Sam choked on his french fry.
Well. That was one way to get the conversation going again.
"Okay," Sam said. He spun the desk chair around so he was fully facing Bucky. "So, sex, then?"
"We were dry-humping in a closet, and you were about five seconds away from coming in your pants," Bucky said. "I sure hope sex is on the table."
"I was not five seconds away from coming, you liar," Sam replied. It would have taken at least twenty. "Alright, look, it's probably very evident at this point that I'm into the idea. But I'm worried it'll mess up our…" he gestured between himself and Bucky. "Don't know if you've noticed, but you're sort of important to me."
Bucky gave Sam a soft smile. "I know. Whatever happens, I'm not going anywhere. But before we make any sort of romantic plans, I do want to know if sex is going to work. Like I said, it's been a hangup. For other people."
"Do you want sex?" Sam asked. "I mean, I like you. It's not something you need to do to snag me. I'm good doing the rest of it, cuddle, watch a movie, make out during the boring scenes, all that, and then just taking care of myself in the shower."
"I like sex," Bucky said.
"I just don't want you to feel pressured, or anything," Sam said. "I don't want you to feel like you have to—"
"Sam." Bucky leaned in, putting a hand on Sam's knees. He stared Sam down, with all the intensity Sam usually saw focused on targets and enemies. "I love getting fucked," he said, his voice deadly serious. "I am a slut for having a cock up my ass."
Fuck, Sam thought. It turned out, murder voice and bedroom words really worked for Sam.
Bucky smirked, and Sam wondered how much of that showed on his face. Bucky squeezed Sam's knees, and continued, "I let strangers fuck me, sometimes. Lately, it's mostly been toys. Strangers aren't as appealing, once I realized that what I really want is your dick, in me, and I want you to fuck me into the mattress."
Well, when he put it like that—
"Okay," Sam said faintly. "Message received." He looked down at his formal suit. "I guess the only question left is do you want to get changed? Or just unbuckle my pants and put you on your back like this?"
Bucky made a noise like he was punched, and his eyes turned predatory as he considered Sam. "I like the way you think. But I've been dreaming about getting you naked for too long. If this works, keep that suit. We'll find a use for it later."
"It's a plan," Sam said. He licked his lips, and Bucky's lust-blown eyes tracked the movement. "But first I want to try that kiss again."
Bucky surged off the bed, crashing into Sam with insistent passion. His mouth was a hot temptation, and he kissed as sweet as sin.
They struggled upright and stripped each other as they made out. Sam laid Bucky back against the bed. Bucky went, legs spread and giving every indication that Sam should just put it in him. In the face of Bucky's impatience Sam ran his hand slowly up Bucky's thigh, determined to take his time with this.
"Come on," Bucky said canting his hips.
"Give me a minute. Let me see what I'm working with." Sam's hand brushed Bucky's inner thigh, then his balls and cock. "What's it feel like?" he asked, rolling his palm over Bucky's flaccid cock.
"Feels good," Bucky said with a huff as he settled back against the bed. "I still get sensation, it still feels more sensitive than the skin around it. Probably like your own soft cock, I'm guessing, mine just doesn't change when you start touching it."
"Okay," Sam said, stroking the underside of Bucky's cock the way he liked to touch his own, when he was trying to get himself up. Not that he was trying to get anything up, here. Different goals. He just wanted to make Bucky feel good.
Chasing that feeling, Sam bent down and licked Bucky's cock. It didn't react the way Sam expected it to. It didn't twitch or stiffen—all the little signs that usually let him know he was doing a good job. But knowing it wasn't going to happen was freeing, as well. It wasn't about the destination, it was about the sensation.
Sam settled down between Bucky's legs and took Bucky's cock fully into his mouth. He rolled his tongue around it, chasing it. Sam liked the way the relaxed cock could be moved so easily, swept from one side of his mouth to the other by Sam's tongue. It was like, after a lifetime of eating popsicles for dessert, being given a bowl of delicately whipped meringue. A gentler, more refined experience.
Underneath him, Bucky was shifting, whining, arching against Sam's mouth as Sam explored all the crevices and folds of Bucky's cock. Feeling daring, Sam sucked Bucky's cock further into his mouth, marvelling at how yielding it was over his tongue.
Bucky moaned, then slapped his shoulder, once, twice, before shoving Sam off of him. Worried, Sam fell back, sitting on his ankles. "What's wrong? Not good?"
"Too good," Bucky grumbled. "Was about to come. Want you to fuck me first."
Sam blinked. "You can still come?" He realized after a beat that it might be considered a rude question.
Bucky just chuckled, though. "Yeah, not all the time, and it's not my goal, usually. It takes a lot of work. I'll fuck myself on my vibrator for twenty, thirty minutes before I get there. But this time—" Bucky shook his head, and gave Sam a lopsided smile. "I could have sworn I felt it building. I guess I'm really into you."
"Who wouldn't be?" Sam retorted on default, and then leaned forward, covering Bucky with his body again. "So. Fucking?"
"Sam, I will tie you down and ride you if you don't get your dick into me, soon," Bucky promised.
"Let's put a pin in that," Sam said with a grin. "And go with the slightly more traditional fucking."
Sam found the lube and condoms, got himself ready and slicked up. He settled between Bucky's thighs and asked, "You need me to loosen you up some more?"
"Sam," Bucky said, in a strained voice that let Sam know that he was really trying to be patient. "Dick. Dick now."
"Okay," Sam said laughing, and pressed in. It felt good. It always felt good, Sam loved fucking people, loved the heat around his cock, loved the tight ring of muscle that slid up and down his length as he moved.
Sam loved the effect he had on other people, too. Sam never wanted to be one of those tops that took their pleasure and ran. He wanted his partners to feel good. Sam's eyes couldn't help but be drawn to where Bucky's cock sat, as flaccid as ever.
It could have felt like a failure. It didn't, though. It felt like Bucky was trusting Sam with this, yielding up his vulnerabilities for the sake of their mutual pleasure.
Sam's eyes roved up. It was about the little things. The way Bucky's abs heaved, the way his nippes were tight and peaked. The long expanse of his thrown-back neck, the flush to his cheeks, the wild look in his eyes as Sam's gaze finally settled on them.
"Hey," Bucky said, rocking his hips to meet Sam's thrusts. "Like what you see?"
"Hi," Sam laughed, and lost his rhythm for a second. He found it again, and said, "Fishing for compliments now? Well." Sam paused, and his eyes roved over Bucky's skin again, the old scars and corded muscle. The place where metal met skin and his strong thighs and his little cock, getting jostled every time Sam rutted between Bucky's legs. "You're gorgeous. All of you."
"Charmer," Bucky said, and the flush along his neck deepened. Sam bent to kiss that hot skin. As he did, he felt Bucky's cock against his stomach. Sam brought his other hand around that tender organ, cradling Bucky's cock he let his kisses drift higher.
Just as he found Bucky's lips, though, the angle meant that he started to struggle to keep his rhythm, and the hand between them felt awkward more than tender. But Bucky was smiling up at him, looking hot and panting for him, and Sam indulged himself in a clumsy kiss before he scooted back. Sam let go of Bucky's cock and grabbed his leg instead, hauling it up and over his shoulders. The angle was better, and Sam really let himself hammer into Bucky.
It was good, it was all so good, Sam felt himself letting go of the idea that he needed to be careful. He was used to needing to be careful, attentive, not selfish. But, what Bucky specifically wanted was to be fucked as hard as he could be, and there was freedom like freefall in just letting go.
He must have been doing something right, because Bucky's panting breaths took on a whine, keening on every inhale. "That's right, baby," Sam said, fucking Bucky harder, loosing himself in the pleasure. "Gonna give you what you want. What you need."
"Sam," Bucky said, and it was full of pure need. He did this to Bucky. He had turned Bucky, calm, sarcastic, grumpy Bucky into this trembling ball of desire writhing on his cock. "Yes, there—" Bucky's words choked off with a moan, and he twisted, canting his hips up so that he could take Sam deeper. "Your strength, Sam, your power, it's always, fuck, I've always wanted this, and you're perfect you're—"
Bucky tensed, clenching so hard around Sam's cock that Sam gasped and stuttered.
"Are you oka—" was all Sam managed to say before Bucky's whole body relaxed back against the bed and his cock started twitching. Come leaked out the top of it, and as Sam watched, the angle he was holding Bucky's leg at meant that the little pool of white fluid trailed up Bucky's chest.
Sam was transfixed by it, as he slowly lowered Bucky's leg back off his shoulder, letting Bucky's hips come to rest on the bed again. This orgasm wasn't a big explosion, it wasn't some showy burst of come across skin. It was almost anticlimactic. But the way Bucky relaxed, the way he looked at Sam with those pleasure-doped eyes…
It was different. It might be even better. It might be something Sam wanted to see over and over again. Maybe for the rest of his life.
Some of that had something to do with the undeniable pleasure Sam got from the vulnerability of Bucky's soft cock, but really… Sam figured it had more to do with the person.
"Love you," Sam said softly. He'd thought it, a time or two before, but never with enough confidence to say the words out loud. Now, there was no denying the truth.
Bucky's heavy-lidded eyes popped open, and he looked at Sam intently—hopefully. "I'm that good of a lay, huh?" he asked. The words were joking but the tone was saying, 'I love you too.'
It was fine if he wasn't ready to say it back with words yet.
"Shut up, asshole," Sam replied, letting the fond smile that wouldn't leave his face do the talking for him.
"Love you too," Bucky said, just as he lifted his legs and pulled with his calves and thighs, slamming Sam back into him. "Come on," he said, while Sam was still gasping from the sudden movement around his momentarily neglected cock. "Want to feel you come inside me."
It didn't take much longer, once Sam built up a rhythm again. Sam's orgasm built and Sam didn't try to hold it back, just let it roll over him as he fucked over and over again into Bucky's perfect heat. He spilled with a gasp, letting himself fall apart.
"Yeah," Sam groaned as he collapsed down next to Bucky, after quickly cleaning up the condom. "That worked for me."
"I noticed," Bucky said, reaching for him, pulling Sam into a cuddle. "I hoped it would."
Hoped. "Thought it might scare me off?"
"No," Bucky said, as his hand traced delicate patterns over the skin of Sam's back. "I knew that no matter what you'd be decent about it. But while that's great in a partner, a guy doesn't really want decent while he's getting fucked. I want to be destroyed."
"Mmm," Sam purred, pressing his nose against Bucky's neck as he enjoyed the pattern of Bucky's hands. "Well, your ass is fucking gorgeous. I'll destroy it anytime."
"Mmm," Bucky echoed back with a chuckle. "But you don't just like me for my body. You love me."
"And apparently it's mutual," Sam replied.
Bucky gave a slight sigh, the same exasperated noise of truth that Sam had last heard when he pointed out that Bucky was maybe overreacting about their local haunt being out of hushpuppies.
"Oh, flattering," Sam said, snorting with laughter. Good to know that adding love and fucking to the mix wasn't going to kill their banter.
"I'd planned," Bucky said, sounding indignant. "That whenever we got here, either it wouldn't work for you and we'd know, or it did work, and we'd have a few weeks of wild sex before we bothered defining things."
"We can still have a few weeks of wild sex," Sam pointed out. "I just get to call you love and watch you blush."
Bucky squirmed underneath him. "Not playing fair. Fine." The hand that had been stroking Sam's back came up and cradled his head. "Do you like bottoming?"
Sam felt his cheeks heat. Good hit, point to Bucky. "Uh, well, I mean, it's fun. I won't miss it, though. Not"—Sam couldn't help his smirk, revenge of Sam in the embarrassment-off—"if it means I get you."
Bucky's fingers flexed along the back of Sam's head, but aside from that, he didn't seem too flustered by that declaration. He replied, "Not an either/or, sweetheart, I have a strap. A few different ones. Pick your size."
Sam scrunched up his face, as the assault of Bucky purring out sweetheart mixed with the mental image of himself getting railed by Bucky wearing an enormous cock. It sent prickles of excitement over his skin. "You have really embraced modern American living, huh?" he replied, giving up on winning the embarrassment-off.
"Sex toys are the second-best thing about modern living," Bucky said, leaning down to kiss the top of Sam's head. "Come on, enough feelings, let's shower."
As Sam disgruntedly rolled off of Bucky and swung his legs over the side of the bed, he waited for Bucky to finish the thought. When Bucky just started strolling towards the bathroom, Sam called in irritation, "So, you're gonna make me ask?"
"Ask what?" Bucky said, turning around and raising an eyebrow.
Sam honestly couldn't tell if he was serious or not. "What the best thing about modern living is."
Bucky rolled his eyes, flipped Sam off, and said, "You."
"Rude," Sam said, playing up the mock offense because he was a little worried that if he actually thought about that with sincerity he'd start crying. "What was I thinking, hooking up with such an asshole?"
Bucky offered Sam a shiteating grin. "That you love me." He turned and walked into the bathroom.
Well, Sam thought, as he shook his head and went after Bucky, he wasn't wrong.