Archive of Our Own ^beta

Bucky, despite his profession and unfortunate past, doesn’t consider himself to be a violent person. God knows that hanging around Steve had gotten him in enough fights growing up to rival Rocky fucking Balboa, and he’s got a killer right hook to show for it. But with that being said- Bucky’s always prided himself on tending to choose the high road when he can. He’s a charmer before he’s a fighter, and he likes that about himself. 

Still, all that pride and righteousness isn’t keeping him from wanting to plant his metal fist right into Nick Fury’s face right now. 

It could be the exhaustion that’s making him so irritable. They’d barely touched down the jet before Maria was meeting them at the terminal and ushering them inside for a mission report, which morphed into Nick yelling at them about what they did wrong and then dragged on into a strategy meeting. It’s been over an hour since Bucky was first forced into the brightly lit conference room they’re all crowded into, and Nick Fury still has his mouth flapping on about the formations and fight patterns they could have used or done better today. 

The chairs that would normally surround the table are stacked in the corner except for the one Nick is in, so the team is standing instead. Bucky feels ready to fall asleep on his feet, which is saying a lot considering how fucking grimy he feels. Fury hadn’t given the team time to shower or even wash up, so they’re all still in their uniforms save for Stark being out of his armor. Bucky’s tac gear is sitting heavy on his skin and doing nothing but reminding him of the dried layer of sweat that’s making him itch underneath.

In short, he’s tired, he’s grumpy, and he feels disgusting. All of that combined is a good enough reason for anyone to want to clock Nick Fury in the jaw, but as Bucky hears his husband let out a tiny sigh from where he’s standing next to him, he’s pretty sure than he has a better reason than anyone else on the planet. 

Tuning out Fury, Bucky tips his face down and to the side under the guise of brushing his hair out of his face. Not that anyone else would really notice him or anything. They’re all practically dead on their feet besides Fury and Maria, so no one bats an eye when Bucky quietly moves his foot over and nudges it against Steve’s, whose heel is tapping furiously against the carpet. The blonde immediately stills at the touch, but his posture is so tense that he’s practically vibrating. Bucky’s jaw clenches. 

Shit. 

Normally after missions, Bucky at least gets to have a minute with Steve before they debrief so he can pull him into the bathroom and promise he’ll be taken care of if he can just be good for a little longer. It always does the trick, that extra bit of order giving Steve what he needs so he won’t crash while he still has to handle delivering the mission rundown. If they’re lucky, sometimes they’ll have enough time to shower before going up.

Thankfully the rest of the team is far past the point of making fun of Steve and Bucky for using the same stall in the locker room, so no one gives them shit for it past a few wiggled eyebrows. Bucky always hates and loves those occasions- hates because the mission always has to be rough for them to be awarded that privilege; loves because it lets him get his guy a little calmer before they have to go up. He’s aware it’s hard on Steve having to handle dropping in the first place, let alone dropping in front of someone like Fury. 

Bucky wouldn’t hesitate to hand Fury his ass if he found out and thought any less of Steve for it- let alone try and bench him for it- but he knows just how desperate Steve is to prevent that from happening. So far, they’ve done pretty well at it, not even coming close to slipping up.  

Until today. 

The mission had gone bad- not end of the world bad or life-threatening injury bad, but bad enough for Fury to have called them up to debrief without a second to spare, leaving Steve and Bucky thrown for a loop in regards to their normal routine. Bucky hadn’t even had the chance to squeeze Steve’s hand before they were hurried inside the conference room and Steve was shoved up front and center to tell Fury about the bad intel SHIELD had received and the disastrous fight that had resulted from it. 

Bucky is man enough to admit that he had been terrified during that split second before Steve started talking. All of Steve’s tells for dropping were there- tense shoulders, shaky breath, lowered head, hands white-knuckled on his belt to keep from visibly shaking- but despite the fear curling in Bucky’s gut, Steve had held his own. Sure, his voice was quieter than usual. He stumbled over his words a few times and his head remained dipped, but he had gotten through the delivery without so much as an odd glance from anyone else in the room.

The moment he turned around and returned to his place next to Bucky, Bucky wanted nothing more than to gather his husband in his arms and whisper praises into his hair, give him that reassurance he had been deprived of. Unfortunately, Fury had taken the opposite route, launching into a heated storm of cursing so loud and angry that it had even Natasha flinching. 

Steve had taken that in stride, too, only shrinking back a little when Fury directed a few choice words at him. Bucky had been so proud of him (still is) for handling things so well when they had gone so wrong, both in the field and off it, making a silent promise in his head to give his sweetheart something special once they were able to get back up to their floor and properly let him settle him down.

That was at least an hour ago. Bucky hasn’t even gotten to properly look Steve in the eye yet. 

Steve is still doing good, all things considered. No one but Bucky can really tell anything is wrong, but the fact that Bucky does notice and can’t do anything about it is killing him. Steve’s shoulders are drawn up so far that they’re nearing his ears, and he’s still got his hands clenched tight enough around his belt to make Bucky’s pretty sure he’s gonna have to bandage them later if he doesn’t do something about it soon. 

All it takes is another shaky sigh from Steve for Bucky to act again. He carefully reaches over with the hand closest to his husband and places it over top of Steve’s, gently prying until Steve’s hand unwraps itself from around his belt, slightly bent fingers trembling as the blood rushes back to them. He’s no doubt feeling pins and needles, but doesn’t try to move his hand away, so Bucky laces their fingers together and lowers their joined hands to rest between them.

It’s simple, maybe odd to anyone on the outside that sees it- out of place for the situation they’re in. But the comforting gesture it has Steve sucking in a ragged breath, shoulders lowering slowly while his fingers grasp almost desperately around Bucky’s own. Bucky acts before he thinks, sharply digging his thumbnail into Steve’s skin in silent reprimand to loosen his fingers. Bucky doesn’t need him cutting off his circulation again.

Steve makes a tiny noise as his fingers go slack and Bucky realizes he might just have made a mistake.

The noise is nothing that anyone else hears over the sound of Fury’s lecturing, just something small and breathy from the back of Steve’s throat- but Bucky hears it and he knows what it means. Steve is always so sensitive when he’s like this, dropped or on the verge of it. It’s what makes it so easy for Bucky to usually get him through the debriefings with just a promise that he’s being good. It’s Steve’s favorite thing, being good for Bucky, and it’s enough to perk him right up most of the time. Along those same lines, just the idea of being bad for Bucky gets Steve on the verge of tears when he’s in this state, emotional and overly receptive towards every perceived disapproval. Especially from Bucky. 

That’s what he must have taken that last action as. Bucky curses himself under his breath and rubs his thumb in soothing circles over the crescent shaped mark he just made on Steve’s skin, trying to reassure him he’s good. He wishes desperately that he could take Steve out in the hall for some privacy and make this all easier for him, but he can’t, not with how Fury’s still going on without an end in sight.

All Bucky can do is try to discreetly lean a little closer to Steve, keep stroking his hand and try to remind his husband that he’s right here. It’s not much, and it’s definitely not enough. But it’s all he can offer for now. It’ll have to be good enough until the meeting is over, and Bucky prays nothing else happens to test their luck. 

It takes another fifteen minutes of Fury prattling on about defensive maneuvers and more rigorous team training starting tomorrow before Maria seems to take pity on them. Clint looks to be actually asleep where he’s standing next to Natasha, eyes flying open when Maria claps a hand on his shoulder and says, “Nick, enough. We’ve kept them here long enough, there’ll be no training for the next week if we don’t let them get rested up.” She gives Natasha a warm look, and Bucky thanks Nat silently for managing to charm her way into Maria’s affections. God knows when they’d be getting out of here if she hadn’t.

Sighs of relief practically fly out of everyone, including Steve, who slumps over so much that his chin practically touches his chest. Nick looks disgruntled at being cut off before his liking, but he begrudgingly nods and straightens up. “Fine,” he agrees. “I expect all of you in the gym tomorrow, bright and early. We’ve got a hell of a mess to clean up after today.”

With that, he’s pushing through them, Maria training along behind him with an apologetic espression as they exit the conference room and leave the door open behind them.

“Fucking finally,” Sam says under his breath, rolling his shoulders. “Thought we were gonna spend all night here.”

Natasha rolls her eyes and lets Clint lean on her, brushing a strand of matted red hair off of her forehead. “Let’s just get out of here,” she says. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m ready to drink some wine in the shower and pass out for a few hours.”

“A few ?” Tony grumbles. “Try ten. Twelve. Something in the double digits.” 

Bucky is about to reply with a hasty goodbye so he and Steve can escape to their room, but the words die in his throat when he feels Steve’s head bump against his shoulder. He looks down in surprise and is greeted with the sight of Steve’s filthy, blood streaked hair as Steve’s forehead presses against the coarse material of Bucky’s uniform jacket. It can’t be comfortable. Bucky frowns, and being mindful of where they are, leans down to whisper, “You okay, honey?” for Steve’s ears only. 

Steve doesn’t say anything, just nods. Bucky isn’t sure if Steve’s gone nonverbal, or if he’s just too tired to speak, but either way it worries him. He raises his free hand to stroke through Steve’s hair, glad that the others are too busy complaining about Fury to notice the two of them in the corner.

He doesn’t want to walk Steve out of here if he’s as far down as Bucky thinks he is, but he doesn’t want the team to ask questions, either. Fortunately, it looks like their luck has finally decided to turn good today because as soon as Natasha declares that she’s leaving, the others agree with her and are on their way out the door. Bucky and Steve remain stationary where they are, the only person stopping to pay them mind being Sam.

“Cap okay?” he asks, eyebrows raised as he nods down at Steve, still planted on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky opens his mouth to answer, not sure of what he’s going to say, but Steve beats him to it.

“I’m fine,” he says hoarsely, not looking up. “Just tired s’all.”

“Took a few hard hits today,” Sam notes, giving Bucky a meaningful look. Bucky gives him one back. Really, he’s incredibly glad that Steve has someone else invested in his wellbeing, but Bucky is well aware of just how many hits Steve took today. Sam rolls his eyes at him, smiling good naturedly. “Make sure you take it easy tonight,” he says, stepping away and towards the door. “Both of you. Nothing wrong with a little TLC.”

“You too, Samuel,” Bucky sighs, giving him a grateful nod. “Give yourself one of those fancy baths you like, with that fizzy shit, yeah?” he adds, just to be an ass.

Sam laughs and steps over the threshold, shaking his head. “Don’t act like you don’t like bath bombs, too, Barnes. I saw the basket you have under the sink.” 

“I’m gonna stop inviting you over if you keep snooping through our shit!” Bucky calls to Sam’s retreating figure down the hallway, grinning at the bird Sam throws him over his shoulder and laughing internally at the pun that comes to mind.

Now that Sam is gone, it’s just the two of them in the room, Steve now leaning almost fully against Bucky, whose hand is still stroking gently through his hair. Bucky lets them sit in silence for a few moments, but eventually the open door gets the better of him. 

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, squeezing Steve’s hand. “How bad are you feelin’? Don’t lie to me, I know it was rough having to sit through that so long.”

Steve makes a pathetic noise into Bucky’s shoulder. “Bad,” he admits, voice soft. “My legs feel all funny.”

Bucky’s eyebrows raise slightly. That’s not good. He’s either dehydrated or in need of food, more than likely both. “You think you can make it up to our floor right now?” Bucky asks gently. Internally, he’s fully aware that no matter what Steve says, Bucky is gonna suggest they stay down here for a bit anyways, but he feels better giving Steve an option. 

Steve lifts his head sluggishly and looks at Bucky with a hazy expression, face beautiful even with the grime covering it. He worries on his bottom lip for a moment, but shakes his head, expression almost ashamed. “Sorry,” he mutters. “I know you’re tired-“

“Hey,” Bucky interrupts, giving Steve a stern look. He hates when Steve beats himself up over this. “You know you don’t need to apologize. Now, I’m gonna sit you down and go close the door, okay? Gonna take care of you, just like I always do.” Steve nods weakly and leans against Bucky heavily as they walk towards the chair Nick had been sitting in earlier.

Thankfully it’s one of the fancy ones, plush seating with a headrest Steve reclines against as soon as Bucky gets him sat down. “Gotta let you go for a sec,” Bucky says, squeezing Steve’s hand gently and letting it go to head towards the open door. Before he shuts it, Bucky makes sure that the sign outside is still slid to the occupied side. He doesn’t want anyone barging in on them. It’s pretty late at night, so their chances are low- he doesn’t think many people are even in the building, but still. Once he has the lock clicked shut just for good measure, Bucky turns back towards Steve and feels his expression immediately soften.

Steve has gone completely pliant, slumped down low in the seat with his head tilted back and eyes shut. He looks angelic, even clad in a torn uniform with his face streaked filthy, and Bucky loves him so much that his heart aches with the feeling of wanting to take care of him. Steve must be able to feel him staring, because he blinks his eyes open and looks at Bucky with a wide-eyed expression. 

“What?” he asks unsteadily. 

Bucky shakes his head and walks forward. “Nothin’. Just think you’re beautiful is all,” he says, smiling at the way Steve blushes at the compliment. Even after all these years, that praise kink is still a mile wide. 

“Don’t feel like it,” Steve mutters self-consciously, rubbing a hand slowly over his flushed face. “I feel gross.”

Bucky tugs on Steve’s hair when he walks past him towards the water machine in the corner. “Well, I say you’re beautiful,” he says firmly. “And who’s in charge around here, huh, sweetheart?” He gives Steve an expectant look while he grabs a paper cup from the machine and fills it.

Steve shifts in his seat and ducks his head, but quietly admits, “You, Buck.”

Bucky finishes filling the cup and walks back over to Steve, giving him an affectionate look. “Damn right. Drink up.” He holds the cup of water to Steve’s lips and tilts it when they part, letting him gulp down the water at his own pace. Bucky takes the opportunity to admire Steve’s lips and how pink and full they are while he drinks. 

What? He’s only human after all. Being enhanced doesn’t stop him from liking the fact that his boyfriend has lips made to suck dick. In fact, the upped libido only makes him appreciate it more.

It only takes a few moments for Steve to gulp down the water, licking a drop off his lips after Bucky pulls the cup away. “Thanks,” he says gratefully, leaning into Bucky’s touch when he pets Steve’s hair. 

“You’re welcome, Stevie,” Bucky murmurs to him. “How’re you feeling now?”

Steve closes his eyes and lolls his head against Bucky’s forearm while Bucky skritches at his scalp. He’s silent for a minute, and when he speaks back up his voice is shaky. “It was really hard today,” he whispers. “I - sitting through all that made me feel awful, Buck, I don’t ever wanna have to do that again. Just made me think about what it was like when you were gone and I had to deal with it alone. I don’t- I don’t wanna have to do that ever again.”

Bucky feels his heart practically break in two when Steve looks at him after he says that, eyes welling up and shining ocean blue with tears. He drops to his knees in front of Steve’s chair and reaches up to pull his face down so their foreheads are pressed together, words coming out fierce and firm. “You’re not alone anymore, Steve. You’re never gonna have to be alone again, I promise. I’m so sorry you had to go through that, but you did so good like you always do, and I am so proud of you, angel. So proud.”

Steve sniffs and brings his hands up to rest on top of where Bucky’s are holding his face. “I did good?” he says fragilely, voice impossibly tiny for how deep it is. Bucky nods, and brings his face back enough to kiss Steve’s nose, smiling when he scrunches it up. 

“So good, sweetheart. When you were up there talking all I could think about was how good you were being for me, how I was gonna reward you for it later,” he says lowly, thumb swiping away the singular tear that escapes Steve’s eye. 

Steve’s breath hitches and he looks back at Bucky with eyes that are suddenly pleading. “Are you still gonna?” His voice is still wobbly when he tries to tease back, but it holds a hopeful quality that makes Bucky smile and huff out a laugh. 

“If you want, baby. I was thinkin’ maybe I could give you a little something down here to get you feeling good enough to go back up to our room so I can really give you what you earned after we take a shower,” he replies. “Get all the grime off. How does that sound?”

Steve’s pupils are already dilated, answer coming out breathy. “That sounds good, Buck. Please?”

Bucky hums and removes a hand from Steve’s cheek in favor of bringing it down to rest on the bulge in Steve’s uniform pants. His dick is chubbing up nicely, serum always making him easy to rile up. Bucky adores it. “Want me to suck your cock, honey? Get you feeling better with my mouth around that pretty dick?” he teases, rubbing his hand over Steve’s growing erection just to enjoy the way it makes his husband whimper and spread his thighs. 

“Please,” he breathes out, hips flexing up the slightest amount. 

“You don’t gotta beg for it this time, sweet thing. You earned it.” Bucky goes to unfasten Steve’s belt, but to his surprise Steve stops him with a weak hand and embarrassed expression. “What’s up?”

Steve’s cheeks are flushed when he answers. “Um- can we not do it on the chair?” he asks softly. “I know it’s dumb since we’re doing it in here anyways but- I’d feel weird knowing that Fury sat in this before me and- “ his face turns even more red, if possible, but he stumbles his next words out in a rush. “I don’t wanna stain it,” he admits.

Bucky has to choke back a laugh, not wanting to upset his sweet boy while he’s still tired and crashing. Steve does shoot pretty far after the serum, and Bucky thinks it’s endearing that he’s so embarrassed by it. “I can swallow if you’re worried, but whatever makes you comfortable, Stevie. Where do you want to do it instead? There’s a table in the corner.”

Steve takes a look at the table Bucky is referring to and nods quickly, cheeks still burning. “That sounds good,” he says softly. 

Bucky leans in for a quick kiss before pulling back and patting Steve on the thigh, standing up. “Alright, babydoll, up and at ‘em.” When Steve stands, it’s on wobbly legs, hands coming to grasp at Bucky’s arm. “Your legs feeling any better?” Bucky asks, trying not to come off as fretful. 

Steve nods and starts heading over to the table, Bucky following behind him with a guiding hand on his lower back. “Less achy,” Steve says. “I think the water helped.”

“Good.” Bucky helps Steve onto the table, situating him so that he’s leaned against the wall, thighs spread for Bucky to stand between as he works on unfastening Steve’s belt. “Anything you want me to do, you just say the word. This is a reward after all.” 

Steve lifts his hips once Bucky has his pants undone, whimpering once Bucky slides them down with his underwear in one go, his cock springing free. “Could you- do you think you could- fingers?” he mumbles out shyly, hands clutching at the edge of the table. 

“You want my fingers in that sweet hole while I suck your cock?” Bucky hums, delighting in the way Steve lets out a whine as an answer. “I can do that, angel. Just let me get your boots off then, gotta give you some room so you can spread your legs and show off that pretty cunt for me.”

Steve’s noise after Bucky lets that filth spill out is devastated, practically scrambling to spread himself open once Bucky gets his bottom half completely bared. There’s a box on his right side, so he can’t quite lay himself out completely, but he settles for lifting his right foot up to rest on the table and slouching down lower so that Bucky is welcomed by the sight of his hole on display, cock bobbing desperately in the air above it as Bucky takes a good look at him.

“Oh, honey,” Bucky breathes out, sliding down to his knees and placing a reverent hand on Steve’s thigh hanging off the table. “That’s gorgeous. All that for me?” he asks, using his other hand to stroke a finger over Steve’s hole. Bucky rubs the pad of his finger over the entrance of it, barely dipping inside, but Steve’s dick twitches and he moans like Bucky has just slid home. He’s always been so sensitive down here.

“All yours, Buck,” Steve promises fervently. “Always.”

Bucky hums and leans forward, pressing a teasing kiss right over the pinkness of it and nuzzling the crook of his thigh after, inhaling the sweat and smoke heavy scent of him. “Good,” he groans, kissing his hipbone. “We don’t have lube, so you’re gonna have to get my fingers nice and wet so I can put them in you while I suck you off, okay? Open your mouth for me.” 

Steve obeys immediately, mouth falling slack so Bucky can reach up with his flesh hand and shove two fingers in, enveloped in a slick heat that has Bucky’s own dick aching where it’s still tucked in his pants. God, Steve’s mouth is like sin, he can’t wait to put it to good use later.

While Steve works on his fingers, Bucky starts doing a little work of his own. The positioning is awkward, but he leans down and starts sucking hickies into the sensitive skin of Steve’s inner thighs, making the other man moan around his fingers. They’ll be healed and gone by the time they get back up to their room, but Bucky doesn’t mind. He’s perfectly fine with replacing his marks any chance he gets. 

Once Steve’s gotten the digits wet to Bucky’s satisfaction, he pulls them out and lowers them to trace down from Steve’s perineum to his tailbone, leaving a trail of spit shining over him. Steve whimpers in response, dick drooling out precome.

“Bucky,” he whispers. “Please. I’ve been good, you said this was a reward.”

Bucky coos at him in response and grips at Steve’s dick with his metal hand, making him moan at the cool contact of it against his overheated skin. “It is, angel,” Bucky assures him. “I’m sorry for teasing, just can’t help but admire how pretty my guy is like this.”

“S’okay,” Steve pants out, voice and expression going shy and pleased at the praise. “Just- quit teasing, please? Want you to make me feel good.”

Bucky gives one last bite at Steve’s marked up thighs and looks up at him with half-lidded eyes. “Oh, sweetheart,” he promises lowly. “I’m gonna make you feel amazing.” 

With that, he’s ducking forward and guiding the head of Steve’s cock in his mouth while slipping the spit-slick tip of a finger inside his hole. Steve’s whine at the suddenness of it is so broken it’s practically a sob, hands gripping the table edge hard enough that Bucky suspects there’s going to be indents on it after they’re done. He doesn’t let that deter him, just slides his finger in further and takes Steve’s cock deeper into his mouth. 

He tries to find a steady rhythm, thrusting his finger in and loosening Steve up for the second while bobbing his head shallowly over Steve’s dick and teasing at the tip with his tongue. It’s satisfactory, based off of the desperate whines and mewls Steve is letting out above him, but those are nothing compared to the sound punched out of him when Bucky finally pushes the second finger into his hole, shoving them both in deeper to press against his prostate.

“Oh, fuck,” Steve gasps, hips jerking forward to fuck onto Bucky’s fingers and succeeding in nailing his own sweet spot in the process. He groans, long and loud, and Bucky is grateful it’s so late at night. Anyone who was here definitely has gone home by now, and thank god for that, because that noise Steve just made would get them written up seven ways to Sunday if their higher ups ever found out the White Wolf was sucking Captain America’s cock in one of the conference rooms. “Bucky,” Steve moans, cock blurting out more precome onto Bucky’s tongue when he brushes over his prostate with a teasing fingertip. 

Bucky pops off Steve’s cock, making sure to tighten his lips as he pulls back. “What is it?” he murmurs, fingers still thrusting slowly into Steve’s hole and making him squirm. Steve doesn’t answer for a moment, too busy mewling while Bucky leans in and starts places sloppy, open mouthed kisses over the drooling tip of his cock just to tease him. 

When he does finally gasp out an answer, his voice is high and needy. “Wanna come, daddy. Please ,” he begs breathlessly, shoving his hips forward so hard that Bucky has to remove the hand he has around his dick in order to still him before he hurts himself.

Steve doesn’t call him that too terribly often- it’s not uncommon considering how much they both love it, but he only ever feels comfortable enough to say it when he’s feeling particularly vulnerable and wanting to be taken care of. It gets them both hotter than anything, but it’s also intimate and affectionate in a way that has Bucky’s heart swelling with the overwhelming need to give Steve everything he wants and more, especially after the rough day they just had.

“Oh,” he breathes out, crooking his fingers to stroke along the velvety- soft insides of Steve’s hole and tug at his sensitive rim. “You’re so good for me, you know that, sunshine? So good. C’mon, hold onto my hair, you’ve earned it.”

Steve’s hands tentatively uncurl from around the edge of the table and fit themselves into Bucky’s hair, resting them against his head lightly. Bucky doesn’t let him do this often so he starts off shy and uncertain, but once Bucky gets back down to it and takes his cock back in his mouth, Steve lets out a wrecked moan and flexes his fingers to push Bucky’s head forward. He’s still gentle with it, too sweet like this to ever want to hurt Bucky, but Bucky takes pity on how his guy is holding himself back and takes matters into his own hands.  

He ducks his head forward and takes Steve’s cock in far enough for the head to bump against the back of his throat, swallowing around him and humming at the way it makes Steve cry out above him and clutch at his hair, the sharp sting of it sending a bolt of pleasure to his own cock. Steve whines in response to the vibrations, hips squirming between the options of fucking up into Bucky’s mouth or down onto his fingers. He’s breathing fast and ragged, whimpering out pleads alternating between groaning Bucky’s name and begging daddy, please so prettily that Bucky can’t help but give in. 

Pulling out all the stops, he finally starts moving his head over Steve’s dick in a steady motion at the same time he pushes his fingers firmly against Steve’s prostate, stroking over the spot with firm, circular motions that have Steve practically sobbing as he clutches desperately at Bucky’s head. The serum’s always got him on a hair trigger, so Bucky isn’t surprised in the slightest when Steve’s noises go higher in only a few moments, hands scrabbling to pull at Bucky’s hair while his hips jerk up and chase the sensation of Bucky’s mouth to push him over the edge. 

It works. Another pass of Bucky’s mouth and pointed press of his fingers later, Steve is letting out a drawn out keen that warns Bucky of what’s to come only seconds before Steve’s hole clenches down iron tight on Bucky’s fingers and his release is spilling into Bucky’s mouth, bitter taste flashing over Bucky’s tongue when he chokes to swallow it down. 

Steve goes boneless immediately after he comes, bent knee falling out while he slumps down lower and whimpers as Bucky swallows the last of his come and inadvertently flexes his throat around Steve’s now sensitive cock. The sensitivity won’t last long. He’ll be up and ready to go again in a few minutes, Bucky knows from experience, but that’s not what he wants to do right now. His sweet boy’s next orgasm is gonna be in the comfort of their own bed, or maybe the shower, where Bucky can really strip him down and take care of him. 

With that thought in mind, Bucky pulls off Steve’s softening dick with a wet noise, kissing the tip one last time before he removes his fingers as well. Steve makes a quiet, dejected noise at the loss, but Bucky gentles him with a kiss to his knee and soft look thrown up to where his head is leaned back against the wall.

“Check in with me, sunshine. How’s the weather up there, huh? Feelin’ better?” Bucky asks him, voice just a tad rough from what he just got done doing. 

Steve sighs contentedly and lowers his hands from Bucky’s hair to rest on his shoulders instead. He smiles when Bucky reaches up to tangle their fingers together on each side, squeezing briefly before he answers. “Better, Buck,” he answers quietly, voice sounded so sated it’s almost dreamy. “Thank you.”

Bucky smiles affectionately at him and squeezes their hands as well. “Don’t gotta thank me, Steve. You know that,” he reminds him, standing up slowly and raising Steve’s arms in the process. 

“Yeah,” Steve hums. “But ‘m gonna anyways. ‘S polite.” 

Bucky laughs and hugs Steve’s head to his midsection once he’s fully stood up, dropping Steve’s hands so they can wrap around his waist instead. “My sweet, polite guy,” he hums. “You feel up to going to our floor now?”

Steve groans and lifts his head, blinking fuzzily at the fluorescent lighting. “I think so,” he says. “If you put my pants back on.”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” Bucky pets his hair for a second before nudging him to sit back again, squatting down so he can untangle Steve’s underwear from the heap of his clothes and begin sliding them up his legs. 

“Always got me,” Steve echoes quietly, and Bucky has to take a second to lean back up and kiss him, soft and sweet.

“That’s right,” he murmurs. “Always do. Love you so much, Stevie.”

“Love you back, Buck.”