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Bucky drops the keys. "Shit."
"Come on," Steve complains when Bucky leans away to bend down and pick them up.
"Kinda hard to do anything with you at my neck like a vampire." Bucky's fucking hands are shaking. He's gotta get a grip of the key to their apartment, but Steve's mouth is making his knees weak. Hands are wandering over his clothes, getting dangerously below the belt. Oh, now they're at his belt. Pretty soon his cock's gonna be out in the hallway. Fumbling some more, he finds their apartment key and shoves it into the lock.
He's barely got the door closed before Steve is shoving him bodily against it.
"The hell's gotten into you?" Bucky laughs, dropping his hands to Steve's hips and pulling him closer.
"You, hopefully," Steve says simply. There are fingers greedily unhooking his belt clasp. "Get your pants off."
"Woah, woah, hold on." Bucky tries in vain to stop Steve's progress. A determined Steve is a stubborn Steve. He's cute when he's all revved up like this, all business, but Bucky knows him. "You're gonna be mad if we do anything and neither of us have showered." They're both a little gross from the long-winded battle earlier. Bucky still has bits of concrete in his hair. They have little scratches on their faces from shrapnel. Steve always showers the minute they get home from a mission, especially if it involved flying debris.
"Don't care," Steve grunts. The belt comes off and clatters to the floor.
Oh, he's that kind of horny. Bucky has to clamp down another amused sound. "Okay, well, you maybe wanna try at least making it to the bedroom, or are you trying to suck my dick right here at the front door?" he asks, only half-joking.
"Bucky." Steve's hands still and they meet gazes. Steve's pupils are blown to shit and his eyes are all dark like he wants to devour Bucky whole. "Remember earlier? When you. . ." He makes a punching down motion with his arm. "Did that thing with the truck that was trying to get away?"
He does. It hadn't been planned, but once he'd seen the chain trailing behind it as it sped off he didn't want to miss the opportunity. The guy inside was a lot more apologetic when he ripped the door off its hinges moments later.
"Yeah, I remember. Why?"
Steve bows his head a little now, his face going sheepish, but as cute as he is when he's embarrassed, Bucky's curious.
"Oh no, Stevie, don't get all shy on me now. What's goin' through that blonde head of yours?" He cups the side of Steve's face and he nuzzles into it, some of that earlier desperation dissipating now that Bucky's got his hands on him. When his eyes go a little half-lidded, Bucky is hit with a realization. "Oh," he says, drawing it out and ending it with a chuckle. "I see. So that's why you've been eyeing me up since we got back, huh?"
Steve's got a pretty blush across the bridge of his nose and cheeks. "It was. . ." He takes a shuddery breath. "It was really hot."
Bucky just grins at him and brings his face in for a kiss. "C'mere."
He kisses Steve slow and sweet and Steve goes pliant, pleased as a peach, having gotten what he wanted. He's sort of a brat in that way, but he would never admit it himself. Bucky loves this side of him, that side that's so determined to get some dick. He must've been thinking about it all day if the vaguely hungry looks he'd been giving Bucky across the table at the debriefing were anything to go by. It hadn't been obvious at first, but in hindsight it should have become clear when Steve all but dragged him out of the meeting after it was adjourned.
Steve's hands are at his pants again, thumbing open the button.
"Holy shit." Bucky breaks away to chuckle, breathless. "You really do wanna suck my dick right here at the front door." He inhales sharply when Steve's warm, heavenly hand finds his cock where it's quickly hardening in his boxers. It never takes much when they're together, especially with Steve all over him like this.
"I'd've dragged you into a bathroom at the tower if I wasn't afraid of getting caught," Steve mutters, more to himself than anything. His eyes are trained solely on the task of getting Bucky's dick out, like he's reading a mission dossier. It's honestly adorable.
Bucky whistles. "Yeah, you're really worked up."
Steve shoots him a wry smile, says, "At least you get something out of it," and sinks gracefully to his knees.
And Jesus, isn't that a sight. Steve all roughed up, gazing up at Bucky from underneath his eyelashes on the way down, looking every bit like the cat who got the cream. None too gently, he yanks Bucky's pants down to mid-thigh and releases his cock from his boxers. Bucky's organic hand goes to the side of his head on instinct. Steve loves when Bucky treats him gentle, pets him and runs his hand through his hair, but he has a feeling that's not what Steve wants this time around, so he slides his palm to the back of Steve's head, grips the short hairs there and coaxes him forward. Steve gusts out a sigh against the tip that has them both shuddering.
"C'mon, since you want it so bad," he murmurs down at him. He takes his dick in hand, holds it steady for him. Steve keeps unwavering eye contact as he leans forward to take it into his mouth.
Instantly, it's a rush of sensation that begins somewhere low in his groin and shoots in sparks up his spine, lightning kissing metal. Steve's mouth has always been so good on him, so molten hot and wet. He whispers sweetly about how pretty Steve looks on his knees, how good he's doing, how good he is. It just makes Steve suck him down with more enthusiasm, hard enough that Bucky thinks he's gonna die, and he actually has to gasp for breath for a moment. If he's not careful his fingers are gonna leave little divots in the door, he's got his hand braced against it so hard. He thunks his head back when he feels himself brush up against the back of Steve's throat, feels Steve's nose bump against his pelvis with a muffled, satisfied hum.
"Fuck, sweetheart," he groans, toes curling up in his boots. He fists Steve's hair, steels his hips so he doesn't fuck into his mouth, but then there are hands pawing at his ass, encouraging him to move.
When he looks down, surprised, Steve's eyes are only a little wet but they're huge and blue and pleading, begging Bucky to thrust down his throat, fuck him hoarse.
"Jesus fucking Christ," he curses, "you're gonna be the death of me, Stevie."
And so he obliges, rolling his hips in one fluid motion once, then twice, then Steve's bobbing his head in tandem and they've worked up a steady rhythm that has Bucky squeezing his eyes shut and biting at his lip. Steve is too much. Too much sensation, too much to look at, all pink and flushed like that. He's soft and pliable, letting Bucky fuck into his mouth, but his hands are insistent, pulling him deeper and deeper and deeper 'til he's nearly choking on it, drool dribbling down his chin. Goddamn, it's filthy, and it's right here at the damn front door, which he's gonna have to walk through and remember this moment, Steve trying his best to suck his soul out of his body through his cock.
Steve reaches a hand up to tuck inside of Bucky's clothes as best as he can and squeezes at his balls, where they're drawn up like they're trying to recede into his body. Just that sneaky fucking hand is enough to make his vision go fuzzy, make his breath stutter in his chest. Steve always knows what buttons to press, where to touch and where to lick, where to curl his tongue. While he rolls Bucky's balls in his palm, his tongue fits the tip of itself snugly against the slit of his cock, catching the precome beading up there.
"Steve," he says, a little desperately. Words are beginning to fail him. In the absence of his pleasure-laden babbling there are soft sucking sounds and Steve's little muffled, content moans and, oh God, he's gonna die.
The pot of heat simmering in his gut starts to boil over, fast. He's gonna come already, there's no doubt about that, and it's gonna hit him like a freight train with the way it rushes up on him before he can gasp out a proper warning. All that comes out is a strangled, "Fuck, fuck," grabbing frantically at Steve's hair to tell him something, but it's too late, he's —
Bucky stops breathing for a moment, air caught in his lungs, before it gusts out in a long-winded groan, loud enough that he's sure he's traumatized anyone that may have been walking down the hallway. He can feel each twitch of his cock as he pulses come down Steve's throat, and Steve doesn't fucking let up either, keeps swallowing around him, keeps doing that thing with his tongue that should be illegal. He makes a frankly very pathetic noise and arches and, yeah, there is a chance that he has actually lost his soul. He slumps against the door, boneless, blinks several times in an attempt to clear his hazy vision. He chances a look down at Steve, whose eyes are still looking up at him, albeit a little bit more watery than before. He's got drool and come running down his chin.
God almighty.
"Get up here," Bucky says.
Steve slides off him gently, plants a long, sucking kiss on his hipbone and slowly rises to his feet. He's a little wobbly himself as he wipes his face with the back of his arm. Bucky's on him in two seconds.
He pushes Steve up against the wall adjacent to their front door and mashes their lips together again, hot and slick. He can taste himself. It's kind of gross, kind of hot, disgusting in the sexy way, just knowing that Steve had swallowed it all. Bucky runs his hands all over him, up his shirt, feeling up and squeezing at his tits, dragging down his back. They're all teeth and tongue and Steve's making these little breathless noises like Bucky's stealing them right out of his lungs. His hips squirm up against Bucky's cock, frantic as if he's gonna die if he doesn't get it in him. His own hands work his sweatpants down his hips.
It hits him, then, what Steve's intentions are. "Really?" he asks, almost giddily. If he had a tail, it'd be wagging. "Right here?"
Steve laughs softly at his excitement and fishes one of Bucky's hands out of his shirt, brings it to his crotch, which is bare, metal fingers meeting soft blonde curls. He must have skipped underwear when they'd changed at the tower. It's almost unfair how that immediately sends heat roiling throughout Bucky's body, and he wonders with weakening knees if there's a damp spot on Steve's sweatpants. He pets at the hair there, just feeling.
"Thought I was bein' pretty obvious," Steve mumbles in the space between their lips. His breath hitches when Bucky runs the tip of his middle finger over his dick, which is swollen and blood-hot, almost enough that Bucky thinks he can feel it on artificial fingers. "Yeah, Buck, want it right here."
Jesus. "You're gonna fuckin' kill me, Rogers," Bucky says roughly and goes back in for another hungry kiss. Steve's already so wet, just from sucking him off, it makes him want to drop down to his knees himself and worship and taste him until he's shaking and then fuck him until he makes a mess on Bucky's cock, right against the fucking wall.
Steve moans, low in his throat, his thighs shifting apart to allow him more room to work, and that's when he realizes he's been saying it all out loud between breaths. Bucky gladly accepts the invitation and begins kissing his way down Steve's body, rucking up his tee so he can worry at his hardening nipples with his teeth. Steve's always been so fucking sensitive here, maybe more sensitive than anywhere else on his body, save for his cock, and he always makes this little gasp —
"Ah, Buck — "
— when Bucky does that with his tongue on one nipple while he lightly thumbs the other, making him shake and gasp and squirm. He leaves another short-lived love bite under his navel and then finally his knees thump on the floor and Steve's got a hand pushing his hair back for him. His chest is rising and falling fast with anticipation when Bucky looks up, his brows furrowed up like Bucky's already got his mouth on him.
"Please," he says, soft, wanting. He clenches around nothing when Bucky runs his finger over his entrance and spreads around the slick he finds there.
"Christ," Bucky marvels, awed, "baby, you're soaking."
"Been waiting all day for you to get your hands on me," Steve sighs, although it morphs into a gasp when Bucky presses the pad of his finger against where he's softest.
"All this because I flipped a truck over?" Bucky sucks a bruise on his hipbone. He knows Steve's gonna start complaining at him in a minute, something along the lines of get your goddamn mouth on me right now, Barnes, but he can't help but tease him about it. He already knows why, at least he does now. He just wants to hear Steve admit it, to say it out loud. "Or. . .is it something else? C'mon, baby, just tell me."
Steve makes a noise that sounds vaguely like a whimper. He must be beside himself with arousal because he offers an answer with next to no hesitation, shyness thrown out the window. "I-I really like when you show off how strong you are," he breathes, blush deepening. "I love watching you — uh — " Bucky pushes his finger up in him. "Love watching you fight, Buck, I just — God, please."
And Steve always sounds real good when he begs all pretty like that, how can he deny him? He hums a pleased noise and licks at him slow, deliberate. He's lost in how Steve smells all around him, the sweat from earlier, the damp air of him down here, how sweet it is. Coarse curls tickle his nose when he takes the short length of him in his mouth just for a moment, just a taste. Steve lets out a near sob that makes his cock twitch where it's still hanging half-hard out of his pants. He resists the urge to wrap his free hand around it and focuses solely on Steve, who's looking down at him wide-eyed and glassy like he can't believe that Bucky is real. The setting sun from their kitchen windows are shining in the walkway and it makes him look absolutely ethereal, his skin and hair shining gold and his baby blues crystal clear. He's flushed dusky pink like the sky. Bucky hefts one thigh over his shoulder to open him up more. He's pink here, too.
Steve tilts his hips towards his face, leans back against the wall. His hand is still in Bucky's hair, not quite pulling him forward but not letting him go very far either, his fingers insistent at his scalp. Bucky watches him as he takes Steve in his mouth once more, suckling at him, feeling him pulse on his tongue.
It's Steve's turn for his head to fall back against the wall, lips parted. He moves his hips back and forth on Bucky's finger, trying to get him to do something, anything with it. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," he's saying to the ceiling.
So Bucky pulls his finger out slightly, only to include his middle finger on the next push in. Steve makes a grateful sound when he hooks them both against that roughened patch of skin within him, pulling towards Steve's bellybutton. The leg on Bucky's shoulder spasms. He's so hot and wet inside, so fucking tight, clenching and unclenching on his hand and dribbling slick down his palm. Bucky can't wait to bury himself deep inside him and nudge at that spot with the tip of his cock and fuck more of those sweet, febrile noises out of him.
Steve's nearly climbing up the goddamned wall, one hand braced against the plaster, the other clutching at Bucky's hair hard enough to hurt, hanging on as tight as he can. Bucky just buries his face between his legs further, spurred on by the sting at his scalp. There's so much he wants to say, mostly about the way Steve's shaking all over for him, how it already feels like he's so close despite Bucky only having his fingers in him for a few minutes, and Christ, the sounds, the squelch in the quiet of their apartment, it's driving him absolutely fucking insane. That's the only downside, that he can't tell Steve this, but he was raised not to talk with his mouth full, so he doubles down with his tongue instead to show Steve how much he appreciates him.
Steve apparently likes that a lot, and expresses as much with a throaty, open-mouthed groan. He presses his hand more forcefully up against the back of Bucky's head. You close? Bucky wants to ask. Are you gonna come in my mouth? Just from this? He knows the answer already, can hear it in Steve's voice and feel it in the way he clamps down on his fingers, but he loves to hear Steve say it. Loves when he can barely get it out, can barely speak.
Sure enough, Steve moans brokenly, "'m gonna come, Buck, 'm gonna — God, right there, faster, please — "
Bucky muffles his own hungry noise against Steve and works his fingers and his mouth faster, not letting up, not even when Steve's hips arch and try to get away from the onslaught of sensation. Steve's so hard, hard enough to fucking cut diamonds, and inside he's gone rigid, so rigid that Bucky can't move his fingers much anymore, but he tries, tries to drag Steve's orgasm out of him by curling them up and up and up 'til Steve's whole body locks up and he —
"Oh God, Buck, Buck, Buck, Buck!"
The thing that Bucky loves the most about watching Steve come is that he comes with his whole body. His back arches, his thighs tense, his fingers and toes curl. It's truly a sight to behold, like admiring the beauty of a Greek statue in a museum, Steve is gorgeous when he's lost in the force of his own orgasm and his mind goes off somewhere that isn't in the present. All shame leaves him in that moment, in those seconds that feel like hours, and his mouth opens up and he cries out, sugary sweet, into the open air. He sounds so good, so helpless. He's got a death grip on Bucky's fingers now, his cock twitching violently in Bucky's mouth. He sucks him through it, runs his tongue over the tip like he'd done to Bucky, then kisses him tenderly there. Steve shudders again, full-bodied.
Steve's hand is trembling in his hair but his grip has let up, so Bucky backs away a bit to tug his fingers out of Steve with a slick noise and pop them in his mouth to clean them off. He always tastes vaguely sweet, so uniquely him. Steve lets loose a weak groan watching him, breathing out, "God," and a little laugh that makes Bucky's stomach flip.
Bucky smiles at him from below, his lips still wet. Steve places his hands on either side of his face and guides him back to his feet, kissing Bucky chastely and licking up the remainder of his own come. Fuck. Bucky's cock jerks, and that's when he realizes that he's hard and leaking again, curving up towards Steve's belly. The tip bumps wetly against sweat-slick skin, almost as if asking permission.
Steve sighs out his name again. "Buck," he says, "I want it, please, I want it."
"Yeah?" Bucky asks, breathy himself. "Yeah, babydoll? Want me to hold you up against the wall? Fuck you 'til you scream?"
Steve nods before he can finish. "God, yeah, c'mon Buck, put it in me, been waiting so long, wanted you all fucking day, c'mon c'mon c'mon —"
Christ. They aren't even fully unclothed. But Steve's already lifting one leg up, so Bucky gladly takes it, hefting one and then the other into his arms, spreads him wide open. Steve hasn't let him do this since the 40's, back when he was a hundred pounds wet and Bucky could fold him up and press him anywhere he wanted, but when his body changed he cited that he felt more ridiculous than sexy, being pinned against a wall. Bucky isn't sure what's changed — maybe it really is just that watching Bucky punch people in the face did things for him, or maybe it was the realization that they're both stronger now and Bucky isn't afraid to still manhandle him, is never intimidated by his extra bulk like other people may be. Maybe he'll ask him sometime, when the promise of dick isn't on the table and his mind is a little more clear.
For now, he adjusts himself so he can, without the use of his hands, guide himself into Steve. He swears he can feel the heat coming off him before he eases himself inside, soft wet warmth slowly engulfing his cock. It's every fucking adjective for hot, almost searing, and fuck, the way Steve clenches all up around him and doesn't seem to know what to do with himself, scrabbling at Bucky's shoulders to hold on for dear life. Based on the way he gasps high and thin in his throat Bucky can tell that Steve loves this angle, loves all the different spots he can reach with his cock.
It takes almost nothing to hold Steve against the wall, to keep his legs locked securely around his waist. "I've got you," he murmurs to Steve, packing as much into that simple phrase as he can, and Steve ducks his head into his neck. Bucky grinds up in him, every inch dragging along his insides in a delicious smooth slide. He can't say much more after he's worked up a steady, dragging rhythm, pushing those little over sensitized "ah, ah," noises out of Steve. They're both sweaty as hell, standing there in the sunlight, shirts sticking to their skin in their hot ass apartment because Steve always turns off the AC when they leave. They will definitely need a shower. Bucky wonders if Steve will let him lick him clean before they make it there.
Steve's fingers dig into the metal plates at his shoulder, fingernails grazing scar tissue. He's wrapped around Bucky like a goddamned koala, breaths coming out in gasps, and he can't imagine how good it must feel for him. Bucky reaches all kinds of new depths this way, places inside that don't get a lot of attention, satisfying something whole and deep in both of them. Bucky's head falls forward onto Steve's slick shoulder as he fights to catch his breath, feeling like he's gonna fall apart at the slightest touch.
Still, he rambles against Steve's ear, "You like this, honey? You like being held up like this, being all nice and open and wet for me?"
Steve spasms all over, whining back, "Yeah, Buck, I do, I love it, love you, you're so good, God, you're so good — faster, go faster, please."
Bucky feels a warm ache in his heart at that, he can't hold back his own little anguished noise at the praise and his hips speed up on their own, spurred on by Steve and his hot mouth. With Steve's legs wrapped around him he can release one hand to brace against the wall and slam up into his body with abandon, hold him up with the other. Steve's head goes back against the wall and Bucky takes the opportunity to latch his mouth onto the exposed stretch of skin dotted in sweat. "Fuck, you feel so good," Bucky slurs against the red mark he leaves. "God, Steve."
Steve's mouth opens but no words come out; instead, it's a startled "Oh!" when he knocks at that spot just hidden in him. Bucky takes that sound to mean "right there" so he doubles down on that angle and feels Steve gasp and tighten all up around him. He whines Bucky's name and claws at his shirt, surely tearing it in places, but how could either of them care? Steve'll be apologetic about it later. Bucky will probably keep it as a reminder for this day.
He fucks into Steve as fast as he can, making all sorts of racket. Their bodies are thumping against the wall, Bucky can't stop babbling praise, Steve can't stifle his sounds, there's a wet noise filling the walkway. He prays that their neighbor isn't home, or won't file a noise complaint. He doesn't think Steve will ever be able to make eye contact with her ever again.
The man in question snakes a hand between their close bodies, so close they're sharing air. Bucky can feel his knuckles against his stomach as Steve gets his fingers on his dick and moans with relief. He wishes his hands weren't occupied, else he'd do it himself, get his fingertips all messy.
"Yeah, that's it," Bucky coos, leaning back to look at Steve, whose eyes are having trouble staying open. "That's it, baby, touch yourself for me, get yourself off, get it all over me."
He knows Steve is close again, can feel the quivering of his insides around his cock. His heart thuds in his chest — it's not often that Steve comes this way, usually needing Bucky's fingers again after he pulls out, and now he's going to be able to feel it all, in this position, every wave. He moans at just the thought, breathing out, "God Stevie, c'mon, wanna feel you come."
"Buck," Steve says, whimpers really, and then his eyes are slamming shut, he's making that face that says it's all too much to handle and his back tries to arch up off the wall, "Buck, yeah, oh God, oh — fuck —!"
He freezes and his inner muscles bear down so hard on Bucky's cock that it almost forces him out entirely. Steve comes, just like that, gushing around him in streams that soak the front of his pants. Christ and a half, it's so wonderful, so good, so fucking delicious. He's never felt Steve come this way on his dick, it's always on his fingers, and each and every time it's amazing but this is on a whole other level, damn near choking off circulation to his cock he's gripping it so hard. Bucky groans, feels his fingertips sink slightly into the plaster. He's gonna lose it soon, but he holds out for Steve, just a little more, helping him ride out the last of what seems like a very intense orgasm by rocking his hips into him still. Steve makes little overwhelmed noises in his throat while he does, tremors wracking him inside and out.
It doesn't take much longer, maybe two, three more thrusts, before he tips over the edge as well, pouring all of himself into Steve with a wounded sort of sound. It is almost good enough to hurt, pulling everything from his body, up and out until he's empty. It starts in his toes and works its way up, making him shake, weakening him.
After long, tortuous seconds it subsides. He pants against Steve's neck. Steve's gone sort of limp against him, occasionally giving a little twitch, so at least Bucky knows he hasn't killed him.
Then, suddenly, he gives a little winded laugh, burying his nose in Bucky's hair. "Jesus, Buck, we're a mess."
"Tried to tell you," Bucky mumbles. He's sure that his softening cock is the only thing keeping his come from leaking out of Steve and onto the floor. "You happy you got what you wanted?"
He doesn't have to look to know that Steve's face has gone bashful again, probably thinking back to his earlier behavior and feeling embarrassed about it. Still, he says, "Yeah, I am."
Bucky sighs, glad to hear it, and plants a kiss on the side of Steve's neck before leaning back and looking at him. Steve's watching him with sleepy eyes, a dopey little smile on his face, the kind he gets after a good fuck. Bucky falls in love all over again.
"Shower?"
"Shower."