"You know you will never be able to out-drink Nat or Maria, right? And having gotten you drunk they will make you do something embarrassing?"

"M'not drunk," returned Steve, which was exactly the moment that he tripped on the curb. He glared at it accusingly. "M'not! Anyway, even if I was drunk before they dared me to sing Whitney Houston, I certainly sobered up after everyone started threatening violence if I didn't sit down and shut up."

"Well," laughed Bucky. "If we'd actually been in a Karaoke bar..."

"Shut up. Just because they didn't dare you to do anything stupid...!"

"Yeah, because I know better than to challenge them," Bucky laughed, easily walking backwards without tripping, to Steve's annoyance. Bucky had always been lighter on his feet.

"Won't make that mistake again."

Bucky stopped and gripped Steve's shoulder, shaking his head, "Steve, Stevie, Steve-o, you say that every time, and every time Nat yells 'Tequilla shots!' you go charging in. You got off easy tonight. 'Member that time Maria made you put on eyeliner and lipstick freshman year? Or the infamous streaking incident of two thousand eig—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yuk it up. I just don't get it. I must outweigh them by 125 pounds, how do they stay so sober?"

"You've been asking that since high school, buddy. If you haven't figured it out yet... 'Tash has been drinking vodka since she was six, and Maria had four older brothers. She's been playing drinking games since the first one went off to college.

"Oh, and Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"I recommend never mentioning their weight. EVER. You'll be sporting a lot more than a wounded ego. Welp, this is you. Go nurse your pride, up you go."

Bucky was already pulling out a crumpled pack of cigarettes and a lighter as they came up to Steve's building. Steve disapproved of his smoking so he held off until they were saying goodbye. He tilted his head as he cupped his hand around the flame and his hair, still long after some off-Broadway show from a few months before, fell across his cheek.

My God, thought Steve, he's beautiful. Of course he knew that Bucky was handsome; he'd spent two years on a soap opera, with fans lining up outside the studio. And there were a string of lovers of all genders ready to testify to his sex appeal. But something about the moment, the glow of the flame, the way Bucky's full lips looked around the cigarette, his euphoric expression as he took the first drag, seemed different this time, made Steve's mouth go dry and a dangerous itch light up under his skin.

"So," he stumbled, then started again, "Um, do you want to come up for a coffee." Why was his voice suddenly so low and rough?

Bucky glanced up at him from under dark lashes, and the thick weight of his hair. He grinned and took the cigarette out of his mouth as he stashed the pack and lighter in the inner pocket of his leather jacket. "Not for nothing, Steve, but usually when people ask me that that way, they're asking how I take it in the morning too." It was light and teasing, innocent. Steve was straight, Bucky was bi, and they'd never been anything more than friends since they'd met on the playground some 25 years earlier.

Steve swallowed. This was either the worst decision of his life, or the best. His head felt too muddy to be sure. "Do you prefer scrambled eggs or sunny side up?"

Bucky opened his mouth to say something, a look of concern in his eyes, but then he stopped and seemed to gaze off somewhere over Steve's shoulder for a moment as if working something out in his head. His eyes met Steve's again and he grinned, "Ok then, what're we waiting for?" He flicked the cigarette away. Steve was too bothered by his heated feelings to complain.

Steve fumbled with the lock for a moment then held the door open. "After you."

Bucky chuckled and stepped into the stairwell that led up to Steve's apartment over the bodega. Steve followed and let the door swing shut behind him leaving them in total darkness.

"Dammit, I knew that bulb was about to burn out. I should've—mmpf!" His words were swallowed by Bucky's mouth on his, messy and forceful in the dark. They fumbled their way up the stairs, Bucky half pulling and Steve half pushing until they reached the door to Steve's apartment. He only managed to get the door open, keys still in the lock, before Bucky was yanking him inside. Fortunately the stairs were Steve's private entrance as they left the door half open behind them, still kissing, Bucky trying to push Steve's jacket from his shoulders and tug them both towards Steve's bedroom.

Bucky gave up on Steve's jacket and pulled away to shed his own. He toed off his loafers and laughed as Steve had to struggle with the laces on his sneakers. He took the moment to pull his shirt off over his head, eyes bright, teasing Steve to come after him, then smirked as he undid the button of his jeans, his wide, expressive mouth curling up at the sides.

Steve growled and lunged at Bucky as soon as his shoes were off, crowding Bucky up against the island that separated the main room from the kitchenette, and kissing him open mouthed and deep, as Bucky worked open the buttons of Steve's shirt.

"Fuck, Steve," Bucky managed when Steve began to attack his neck, "I'm pretty sure you have a bedroom, or are we doing this on the kitchen floor?"

"Bed," Steve whispered, half lifting Bucky off the ground in his eagerness and manhandling him down the short hallway to his bedroom. Bucky dropped heavily onto Steve's neatly made bed, and gazed up at Steve lazily while Steve undid his shirt completely and tossed it onto the floor.

"God, Bucky, you are gorgeous. I want you so much right now," he murmured, half to himself, half aloud.

Bucky sat up and smiled, coy and appealing, "Just give me a sec." He hopped off the bed and went across the hall to the bathroom leaving Steve to strip and turn down the sheets.

Bucky came back into the room, naked, a hand towel over his groin as if to protect his modesty.

"Jesus, Buck…" Steve whispered.

He'd seen Bucky naked dozens of times in their lives, from skinny dipping on Long Island to changing in the gym, but never like this. He took Bucky's body in with new eyes, the broad shoulders, firm pecs, taut abs. Bucky tracked Steve's gaze and let his arm fall to reveal his erect cock. Bucky wasn't shaved but his pubic hair was trimmed and he was uncut.

For the first time Bucky seemed shy, nervous even. "Steve, look, I know that this…if you don't really… I was kind of teasing before, and, with the tequila and-"

Bucky smiled, a strange little shy smile, one Steve had never seen before, and he thought he'd had all of Bucky's many smiles categorized. It was still sensual, when were Bucky's full lips ever less than sensual, but there was a sweetness to it that reminded Steve a little of childhood. He stood, awkwardly, left arm partially hidden behind him, towel still dangling from his right hand.

"You don't have to hide your arm, Bucky, I was there when it happened, and each time you were in the hospital."

Bucky brought his left arm forward in its black sheath and crossed it in front of his chest. "Force of habit, I guess. Never sure how people will react."

When Bucky was ten his little sister Rebecca had pulled a pot of boiling water off of the stove. Bucky had shoved her out of the way, taking all of the water, the pasta, and the heavy pot onto his left arm. Third degree burns had required skin grafts which became infected and had to be redone, then more operations as he grew to keep the scar tissue from limiting his range of motion. With a lot of physical and occupational therapy he had regained almost full mobility, but the arm was a mix of pink and white scarred striations. He wore a neoprene sleeve over it at all times from his elbow to his palm, with only his fingers exposed. It was a testament to his good looks, talent, and charm that it had never impeded his acting career. He'd almost always had white doctor's coats on or latex gloves in all of his scenes in the soap. His interviews in the soap mags always mentioned it and it made his fans love him even more.

"Come here," Steve said, gently. Then, "I mean if you still want…because I know we've never…but I…I really want you right now, but if you'd feel better…"

Suddenly, like a switch had been flipped, the flirty, confident Bucky was back, all doubt seemingly erased. "Just leave it to me, baby, I'll take care of everything," Bucky said as he climbed onto the bed tossing a few condoms onto the sheets.

"Good," Steve whispered, "because I have no idea what I'm doing here." Steve had had sex with precisely seven people in his life, all of them women. He wasn't sure how many people Bucky had actually slept with, he imagined it was probably in the triple digits, but he could count Bucky's relationships that had lasted more than one month on one hand. Three men, two women.

Bucky chuckled and pushed Steve back down on the bed to straddle Steve's hips. He ripped the condom open with his teeth and slid it onto Steve's penis with practiced ease, and added a smear of lube.

"Wait!" Steve exclaimed.

Bucky paused where he'd been ready to sink down on Steve's cock and shook his head. "What now?"

"Don't I need to…to you…I mean lube and…stuff?"

Bucky kissed him, hard and deep. "Taken care of, baby. In the bathroom—I know straight boys can be a little…hesitant. Just relax, Stevie. Let daddy take good care of you."

He sat back up and, this time keeping his eyes locked with Steve's, lowered himself slowly down onto Steve's cock.

He let out a long sigh of satisfaction and rocked his hips a few times to settle more comfortably.

"Oh, God…" Steve managed, "You're so tight."

"Hope so. God, I always wondered what your cock would feel like. Mmm, better than I imagined." He grinned, "You're allowed to touch me, you know."

Instead of waiting for Steve he grabbed Steve's hands and brought them to his chest, then down to his hips.

Steve finally caught on and gripped Bucky's hips firmly, tugging him back down each time Bucky undulated and rose up slightly.

"That's it, baby. Ahh…show me what you like. What you want."

"Kiss me," Steve said, "I want you to kiss me."

Bucky smiled, red lips curling up at the corners. He leaned in and kissed Steve again, rolling his hips and lifting slightly, then pushing back down, hard and fast.

Steve moaned "Not going to last long, you keep doing that. Been a long time, and you feel, God, you feel amazing."

"Hmm…so do you. So for once in your life, Stevie, just stop thinking and fuck me like you mean it."

Steve stopped thinking.

Later, after Bucky had come, moaning across Steve's stomach, and Steve had rolled them over to pound Bucky into the mattress chasing his orgasm, they lay side by side on their backs, covered in sweat, Steve said, "Wow, just wow. That was…mind-blowing. Can't believe I never did that before. We should do it again."

"Steve…" Bucky began, voice so soft that Steve barely registered it.

Steve went on, "Friends with benefits. Can't believe you never suggested it. Wow."

"Glad you liked it, Stevie," Bucky replied.

"Come'ere." Steve opened his arms and pulled Bucky to him. He toed the sheets until he could pull them up to cover them. "Were you going to say something?"

Bucky curled into Steve's side, "Nothing important."

Steve woke, a few hours later, disoriented in his own bed, to see Bucky creeping out of the room as if to go.

"Buck?"

"Sorry, sorry, didn't mean to wake you."

"Were you leaving?"

"Well…I didn't want it to be awkward in the morning."

Steve held out his hand. "I have never kicked anyone out of bed in the middle of the night, and I don't intend to start now. Come back."

Bucky came back and Steve kissed him, soft, tender kisses on the edges of Bucky's lips, and up to the middle to suck lightly on Bucky's bottom lip. They made love, gently, without words. Just sliding against one another, Steve's hand wrapped around Bucky's, gripping both of their cocks until Steve gasped and came, pushing Bucky over as well.