Inspired by this picture:
(DOT com) (slash) art (slash) Steve-and-Bucky-Second-First-Time (dash) 527639519
(remove all the spaces and add the usual http)
...
"Shh – it'll be alright."
Gentle hands cradled his face, thumbs brushing away tears he hadn't realized he'd shed. He clutched Steve's arm in his right hand, keeping his metal hand on the bed for fear he would hurt Steve if he lost himself while holding him.
Soft lips brushed the corner of his mouth, a whisper of a kiss, meant to comfort rather than arouse. "We can stop or slow down any time, Buck – just remember that you're the one in control the whole time."
Bucky didn't say anything, only nodding. He wanted this to work. He knew, logically, that he and Steve had slept together before going off to war. He just didn't remember it. All of his memories having anything to do with sex were from later on, when the sex was mingled with pain and fear and not knowing if he would live through it.
He had been with Steve for several months now. It had taken some time for Steve to realize what had happened to him under the hands of Russia and then Hydra, but even before he had known he had never pushed Bucky for anything more than he was able. It was what had caused his forgotten love and trust for the blond man to increase exponentially in his time living with him.
After assessing Bucky for any sign that he should stop, Steve bent his head down, brushing his lips behind Bucky's ear. It felt good – it felt very good – but Bucky was still too tense with nerves to react to it too much. It was when Steve pressed harder, beginning to suck and nibble down his neck that he began to take an interest in it. He moved his hand to the back of Steve's neck, encouraging him with closed eyes and a hope that he could focus only on this moment and not those of the past.
Steve's lips moved downward, brushing on his collarbone and laving across the hollow of his throat as he switched sides. Bucky startled when tongue and teeth worried at a spot where the metal arm met his shoulder, right in the middle of the scar tissue. Steve's baby blues, soft with affection and arousal, went up to Bucky's, and the look in those eyes reminded him anew of where and when he was. After a moment, he let his eyes fall closed again and Steve continued his oral travels.
Bucky had been the one to say he wanted to sleep with Steve. He wasn't certain he was ready, but his therapist had told him that sometimes you needed to just jump in to the deep end of the pool rather than dipping your toes in the shallow end. He was pretty sure that she meant he should just try it and see how it went – though when he had brought it up with Steve, the blond had been quick to clarify that even during the sex, Bucky wasn't obligated to take it any further than he was comfortable with. He wanted to be sure that Bucky understood that he was in complete control the whole time, and they could stop whenever Bucky needed it.
Steve seemed determined to lick across every inch of skin exposed, but it only made Bucky's heart grow fonder. He knew that Steve was trying to tell him in that Steve way of his that he was beautiful, and although Bucky disagreed, his love was always one to go out of his way to show how much he appreciated him.
Bucky thought he was doing pretty well, all things considered, but when Steve's mouth went to the crease where torso met thigh, and teeth bit down lightly to give him a spike of pleasure-pain, he had an abrupt and violent flash of memory –
Violent shocks
not to the head
(like normal)
but to the much more vulnerable area
– punishment –
for what?
Please stop
Stop
Stop
Please
Stop
"STOP!" The word ripped from Bucky's throat before he could even try and stop it from spilling forth, and immediately Steve pulled away, moving up on the bed to be closer to him. Bucky was startled with his reappearance, caught in the haze of his memory, and his faulty brain threw up the image of one of the Russian handlers rather than Steve, and his metal arm shot up to clamp on the bicep in a grip that threatened to break his arm.
"Bucky. Bucky, it's alright," Steve's words filtered into his consciousness, and his vision shifted to show him that he was really there. He released his grip with the metal arm immediately, guilt filling him for what he'd almost done.
"I'm sorry – I didn't – I can't…" Bucky babbled, unable to come up with the words he needed but feeling enormously guilty for stopping before they even got very far.
"Hey – shh, sh," Steve soothed, caressing his cheeks with his thumbs again. "It's alright. I'm proud of you – you lasted so long. You're so strong, Buck."
"I – I was shocked," Bucky said haltingly, trying to explain why he'd panicked, feeling like Steve deserved an explanation. "With the electric things, I mean. Down – between my legs. I don't know why."
Steve's face was sad but not with pity, something he knew Bucky hated. He brushed back some of his hair comfortingly.
"I'm sorry, love," Steve murmured. "It doesn't matter why – you didn't deserve that. They're monsters for what they did."
Bucky laid there for several minutes, willing his heart to slow back down to normal speeds, and Steve helped with his soft words of comfort and love.
Finally, Bucky said, "Let's – let's keep going."
Steve gazed into his eyes, searching for signs of uncertainty, but Bucky wanted this to work. It wouldn't work if he didn't at least try.
Steve didn't insult him by asking if he was sure. He simply leaned back down, bestowing a gentle kiss on Bucky's lips, and murmured, "Alright, Buck. We're not going all the way tonight, though."
Despite himself, Bucky felt relieved with this – and that Steve knew him enough to not allow anything more right now, even if Bucky felt like protesting. Right then though, he wasn't in the mood to argue for something he didn't really want.
He leaned up into Steve now, pressing a searing kiss to his lips. Steve responded back enthusiastically, but still with that gentleness that had never gone away and caused Bucky to love him all the more.
Slowly, Bucky felt the arousal growing again inside him, and thankfully Steve didn't move down his body again, instead staying close to his lips and his jaw, never moving farther down than his collarbone. Whenever Bucky felt himself slipping again into his memories, he simply opened his eyes, seeing Steve's blond hair and the whorl at the top of his head that had been there even before the serum, or perhaps his blue eyes that Bucky loved so much, that he could never forget even through Hydra's conditioning.
True to Steve's word, they didn't go all the way that night, but they were able to get each other off when they rubbed against each other, and that was enough for Bucky.
But better than the physical pleasure was what happened after. Steve dropped down beside him on the bed, before snuggling in close to him. Bucky had another flash of memory, but this time it was a good memory – he remembered a smaller Steve, in a small apartment in Brooklyn, dropping next to him in bed in the same way he just had. The Bucky of back then had wrapped his arm around the small blond and kissed the top of his head, whispering his love before they both went to sleep.
Coming out of the memory, Bucky looked down at a much bigger Steve, who was snuggling close to him in the same way he had decades ago. But something was different.
Tentatively, he moved his arm from where it was trapped between them, and Steve took this as an invitation to snuggle closer to his torso, one arm coming up to rest on Bucky's chest. It seemed only fitting then for Bucky to wrap his arm around Steve, and so he did. He felt Steve smiling against his pectoral muscles, so he hugged him tighter, more assuredly now, and kissed the top of Steve's head, just as he had in his memory.
"Thank you," he whispered, meaning it for so many things as his heart swelled with emotion.
"I love you, Buck," Steve murmured in response. "You don't have to thank me."
Bucky only hugged him tighter, disagreeing but not voicing it. There were so many things he should be thanking Steve for – for getting him away from Hydra, even when he was locked in his programming and trying to kill him. For being so understanding as he plodded his way through the recovery process, for staying with him even through the nightmares that left him waking up screaming, not knowing who he was. For doing everything he could for him to have other friends, for him pushing Bucky only when he needed the push and for backing off when he needed the space. Most of all, he had to thank Steve for loving him, even though he would never be the Bucky that Steve remembered.
Then, just as in his vague fog of memories, he and Steve fell asleep soon after, holding each other close with no intention of letting go.
...
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