Hello, all! I felt inspired to write this little fic after another OTP of mine. If you're wanting to listen to the music I listened to while writing this, I was listening to There Is A Light That Never Goes Out by The Smiths for the first half, and Unsteady by X Ambassadors for the second half. I especially recommend you listen to Unsteady while reading this. It'll really put you in the mood of the fic, I think! Please enjoy, and be forewarned - this is very much a PWP fic with a dash of "plot" thrown in, so. Yeah. Enjoy. xx - Rabbit
Steve Rogers and Bucky Barns walked through the streets of New York, bundled up in multiple layers to stave off the bitter cold and blustering winds. A light snowfall was gently drifting down from the night sky, and most of the normal pedestrians were inside in the warmth.
"A lot's changed," Bucky said, his voice partially muffled by his scarf.
"You can say that again. Most of it's for the better, though," Steve replied.
"You haven't changed," Bucky said. Steve raised an eyebrow at his best friend, clearly confused. "I mean, you're not the short toothpick you used to be, but inside, you're still the same Steve you always were. At least, from the few memories I have of you, you are."
"I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not," Steven replied, his voice soft.
"I think it is," Bucky said, stopping and facing Steven. "You know what's weird? I remember you better than I remember myself. I'm not even sure how the hell that happened, but when you saved me in that helicarrier, it's like you woke up the few memories I had left, and somehow, they were all about you."
"I guess I should be glad I'm still as lame as I used to be, then," Steve said jokingly, beginning to walk again.
"Surprised you haven't netted yourself a gal, though," Bucky said. Steve froze almost imperceptibly for a moment before continuing their walk.
"I did. But she died," Steve said, his voice barely louder than the whispering wind.
"I'm sorry," Bucky said, feeling like an idiot for bringing it up.
"No, don't be. I loved her, don't get me wrong, but… I'm doing okay. Better than I thought I would be, at least. She sure was something special though." The two men had reached the steps to Steve's apartment, Bucky stopping just short of the first step as Steve unlocked the door into the apartment building.
"Buck?" he asked, seeing the apprehensive look on Bucky's face. "You gonna come up? Or would you rather freeze to death out here?" After a painful moment of hesitation, Bucky walked up the snow-covered steps, and Steve released the breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. The warmth inside the building was a welcome relief from the deep freeze taking over outside, but Bucky still felt a cold nervousness that refused to leave his bones. He followed his dearest friend up several flights of stairs to the rather plain oaken door that separated the two men from the inside of the apartment.
"Call it cliché, but I have a habit of drinking hot chocolate whenever I get home on cold nights like this. I'll make you some too," Steve said, unlocking the door and walking inside. The inside of the apartment was much warmer than the hallway, and both men quickly shed their multiple layers. Bucky watched Steve push up the sleeves to his navy sweater, exposing the muscled forearms hidden under the thick fabric. Bucky kept his own sleeves as they were, preferring to keep as much of his metal arm hidden as possible. The very sight of it made his stomach turn, knowing the destruction he'd caused with it, regardless of if it were actually his fault or not.
"You should put on a record," Steve called to Bucky from the kitchen where he had already began their drinks. Bucky shuffled to the record player he saw in the corner of the small but cozy living room, flipping through the collection of records in a crate beside the player.
"X Ambassadors?" Bucky asked. "I don't remember them." Steve let out a slightly embarrassed chuckle.
"You wouldn't. They're actually from this decade. Vinyl just never really went out of style, so most artists still release albums on vinyl. Natasha showed me that group. They're pretty good." Bucky decided to trust Steve's judgement and put the record, side A up, on the small turntable, setting the needle on the edge and turning up the volume. He sat down on the couch, removing his thick boots and revelling in the feeling of the soft carpet underneath his sock-clad feet. The music was really quite good, and the sounds of Steve making hot chocolate in the kitchen were far more relaxing than Bucky ever would have thought possible. After a few more minutes, Steve walked into the living room and sat on the couch beside Bucky, handing him a large mug of hot chocolate. Bucky took an appreciative sip, and noticed a slight kick that he hadn't been expecting but was welcome anyway.
"Rum," Steve said, noticing Bucky's surprised expression. "It's good, right? Sam got me going on rum in hot chocolate." Bucky nodded, taking a far larger sip.
"Forgot how good hot chocolate can be," he said. The two men conversed idly for several minutes, listening to the music and watching the snow falling down outside the window. After a gentle lull in the conversation, Steve had a look like he was trying to come to a decision. With a slight change showing resolve, he glanced at Bucky while sitting his mug down.
"Not everything about me's the same, you know," he said with an uncertain smile.
"Yeah?" Bucky asked. "What's different? Apart from the obvious."
"I actually learned how to dance."
"Is that so? Somehow I doubt that," Bucky said, smiling despite himself. It felt so natural, being here with the man he'd have died a thousand times over for, joking again like when they were young. The song on the record changed, and the next that played was a slow, lilting song. Steve stood up and held out his hand.
"Wanna bet?" he asked. Bucky stared in open uncertainty.
"Steve-" Bucky began, but Steve cut him off.
"I told you – a lot's changed. Don't worry. It's fine," he said. Bucky stared at him a moment longer before slowly reaching out his good hand and taking Steve's. He stood and allowed Steve to pull him closer, both men finding a rhythm in their gentle swaying together. Though neither said anything aloud, they both thought that dancing together felt as natural as breathing.
Hold, hold on, hold onto me
'Cause I'm a little unsteady
A little unsteady
Hold, hold on, hold onto me
'Cause I'm a little unsteady
A little unsteady
Mama, come here
Approach, appear
Daddy, I'm alone
'Cause this house don't feel like home
If you love me, don't let go
If you love me, don't let go
Hold, hold on, hold onto me
'Cause I'm a little unsteady
A little unsteady
Hold, hold on, hold onto me
'Cause I'm a little unsteady
A little unsteady
Mother, I know
That you're tired of being alone
Dad, I know you're trying
To fight when you feel like flying
But if you love me, don't let go
If you love me, don't let go
Hold, hold on, hold onto me
'Cause I'm a little unsteady
A little unsteady
Hold, hold on, hold onto me
'Cause I'm a little unsteady
A little unsteady
Hold, hold on, hold onto me
'Cause I'm a little unsteady
A little unsteady
The song seemed to end far too soon, but Bucky noticed that Steve's arms, while far looser than they had been, hadn't left from where they gently held him.
"Guess I owe you an apology," Bucky said, reluctantly moving back towards the couch. "You aren't nearly as terrible as you used to be." Steve laughed, and Bucky felt himself laughing too. Laughter felt foreign to him, but at the same time it felt so wonderful. He hadn't laughed in decades.
"Shut up," Steve said. "I wasn't that bad."
"Steve, you were awful. You looked like a nervous girl when you tried to dance but I can guarantee that every girl in Brooklyn could outdance you." Steve gave Bucky a playful shove, earning a toothy grin from his best friend. A thought flitted its way into Steve's mind though that quickly sobered him.
"Buck, can I ask you something?" He asked.
"Of course," Bucky replied. Steve took a deep breath, steeling himself.
"Did you ever think about us?" he asked before he could talk himself out of it.
"What do you mean?" Bucky asked.
"I think you know what I mean," Steve replied, and the nervousness was evident in his quivering voice. Bucky fell silent for an excruciatingly long few moments.
"Did you?" he asked.
"Answer my question first."
"Yes," Bucky replied. Steve could have sworn his heart stopped dead in his chest. "Your turn now."
"Yeah, I did. I do," Steve replied. "Kept it bottled up for a long time. But this is a different time, and as soon as I saw you on that bridge, something inside me clicked. I've been unsteady ever since." Bucky moved closer on the couch, allowing some of the hope he'd been keeping buried deep in his subconscious rise to the surface.
"I can keep you steady," he whispered.
"You always did," Steve replied. Taking a steadying breath, Steve leaned in and closed the painfully large gap between their lips. Their kiss was tentative, unfamiliar, but as welcome as the blood in their veins. Steve's hands were on either side of Bucky's face; Bucky's hands were gently grasping the soft material of Steve's sweater. Lips brushed ever so softly against lips, and Steve carefully sucked at Bucky's bottom lip for the briefest of moments before breaking the kiss, but staying close.
"Don't stop," Bucky said, pulling Steve back in. Their second kiss was more desperate, more sure, and less careful. Bucky lightly bit at Steve's bottom lip, earning a surprised gasp that only served to encourage him further. Steve licked at Bucky's top lip, prompting him to open his mouth, and Steve ran his tongue over the edge of Bucky's top teeth before their tongues finally connected. They both tasted of chocolate and rum and - god, they were home. Steve pushed Bucky back on the couch, leaning down against his muscular form. Bucky's legs were on either side of Steve, and they both felt the rising erections in both of their pants through the delicious contact of their pelvises. Steve grinded his hips down against Bucky's while kissing a line down to his neck, earning a moan that just barely escaped from Bucky's mouth through his teeth that were biting his lip. Steve kissed and sucked at Bucky's neck, feeling the rabbit-fast pulse beneath the sensitive skin.
"Never even knew how desperately I wanted this 'til now," Bucky breathed.
"I knew," Steve replied, moving back up to look into Bucky's deep brown eyes. "I knew every moment you weren't with me." Bucky stared back into those oceanic eyes before taking his turn to push Steve on his back on the plush couch, their mouths connecting again with ever growing fervor. Steve began pulling at the bottom hem of Bucky's sweater, and Bucky acquiesced his silent request by pulling his sweater off. Steve stared at the myriad of scars forming seemingly endless words in a language unknown to him, and he gently ran his fingertips over the largest of them.
"It doesn't matter," Bucky said, moving Steve's left hand up to his face, to the delicate skin of his temple to tangle in his brown hair, his right hand over his heart. Blue eyes searched brown as if looking for an answer to every question that had ever been asked.
"You're right," Steve breathed before quickly sitting up and hitching his arms around and under Bucky's thighs, standing and lifting Bucky. Bucky tightened his legs around Steve's hips and clung tightly to him.
"Never thought I'd be able to be the one lifting you," Steve said with a smile, brushing a kiss against the ever-irritated skin next to his prosthetic arm. He walked with hesitation to his bedroom, dim with the light from his single lamp. He gently lay Bucky down on the deep green of his duvet, making eye contact as he removed his navy sweater. Their eye contact didn't break as Steve slowly removed his black leather belt and began unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. He slid them down his legs, kicking off his socks after. He suddenly felt self-conscious, as if he were the underweight little thing he once had been. Steeling his resolve again, he crawled onto the bed between Bucky's legs and undid his pants as well, kissing the soft skin of his stomach while his fingers moved. He took his time sliding off Bucky's pants, their eyes once again locked as if life itself was dependent upon it. His tight black boxer-briefs left very little of Bucky's erection to the imagination, and Steve felt his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he nervously lifted the hem of the underwear and slid them down and off.
"I've never done this before," Steve said quietly, looking up at Bucky, earning a soft smile with half-lidded eyes in reply.
"And you think I have?" Bucky said. Steve let out a nervous, breathy laugh.
"Guess this'll be something new for both of us then," Steve said, taking Bucky's hard member in his right hand, instantly receiving a gasp from his dearest friend. He gave Bucky's cock a few slow, experimental strokes before taking the head in his mouth and running his tongue around the rim. Bucky's head fell back against the pillows, lips bitten with the effort he was expending to keep quiet. He gently rested his hand on the back of Steve's head as Steve grew braver and took more in his mouth, going almost to the base.
"God, Steve, please don't stop," Bucky said, his sentence a staccato of words punctuated intermittently with moans. Steve gladly obeyed, pausing to lick from the base to the tip of Bucky's cock before taking the full length back in his mouth. He continued his ministrations for several more minutes before Bucky pulled him up for a rough kiss, tugging at the hem of Steve's underwear, which Steve gladly removed and threw to the hardwood floor.
"I don't want to just stop here," Steve said shyly.
"Neither do I," Bucky replied, leaning his forehead against Steve's.
"So don't," Steve said. Bucky smiled before rolling them so that he was now on top of Steve.
"Nightstand?" Bucky asked. Steve nodded, and Bucky reached over him into the nightstand draw, searching around until he found a bottle of lubricant. He slicked his fingers with the thick liquid, looking back into Steve's blue eyes.
"Say the word and I'll stop," he whispered before leaning in to kiss Steve again, their tongues dancing. He stroked Steve's cock for a minute before slowly moving his hand lower, until he finally had the tip of one finger against Steve's entrance. With a steadying breath, he gently pushed past the tight circle of muscle, moving as slowly as he could. Steve's breath caught in his throat at the unfamiliar but wonderful sensation. Bucky now had his entire middle finger inside of Steve, and he moved it in and out, stretching the muscles gently while he moved. After he could tell that the muscles had relaxed, he carefully pushed in his index finger as well, earning a soft moan from Steve. He continued stretching out his friend, pushing deeper until he felt Steve's prostate, causing Steve to gasp at the intense pleasure. He finally inserted a third finger and waited until Steve had acclimated to the added width. He removed his fingers and positioned himself above Steve, coating his cock with the lubricant.
"Still sure?" he asked.
"I've never been so sure of anything in all my life," Steve replied. With a kiss, Bucky positioned the tip of his cock at Steve's entrance and slowly pushed forward. As soon as the head was in, Steve felt a flash of white hot pain, but it faded quickly. Bucky continued to push forward until he was fully sheathed within Steve, and he held as still as his desperation would allow until Steve nodded almost imperceptibly. He began a deliciously slow rhythm, gradually feeling the tight muscles relax.
"Buck, faster, please," Steve begged, and Bucky happily complied. He was already working up a sweat from the intense concentration it took not to completely let go, but he felt a small measure of release when he was given permission to thrust just that small bit faster. Steve was reduced to a mess of moans and gasps every time Bucky hit the almost painfully sensitive prostate. Allowing himself to lose himself to the pleasure they were both feeling, Steve flipped them again to where he was straddling Bucky, his hand resting over Bucky's heart and feeling the rapid heartbeat beneath. He raised and lowered himself on Bucky's cock, moving faster as he readjusted to the new position. Bucky began thrusting upwards to meet Steve as he moved down, and they were moving faster and faster as they both edged their way towards climax. Bucky gripped Steve's cock and stroked it in time with his thrusts, earning more moans from Steve.
"Steve," Bucky gasped, feeling himself on the edge of orgasm.
"Come for me," Steve whispered, leaning down to kiss him. His command was all it took for Bucky to lose himself in a powerful orgasm, emptying himself inside of Steve. The feeling of Bucky's climax deep inside his body and the well timed strokes of his cock were enough to push Steve over the edge as well, and he spilled his cum over Bucky's hand and stomach, every last ounce of energy being spent to keep himself upright. He carefully moved upward to remove Bucky's softening cock from himself, and he reached into the nearby clothes hamper to remove a towel waiting to be washed. He gently wiped the cum off of Bucky before tossing the towel on the floor as well and collapsing beside Bucky.
"I love you," he whispered. Bucky smiled before kissing his best friend.
"I love you too," he whispered in reply. The two men became wrapped up in each other's arms underneath the thick duvet, the snow still falling outside and their unfinished mugs of hot chocolate forgotten on the living room coffee table.
"Still feeling unsteady?" Bucky asked, pressing a kiss to Steve's temple.
"Not in the slightest," Steve replied, feeling sleep tugging at his consciousness. They both fell asleep before long, and both had the deepest sleep they had had in decades.
I hope you all enjoyed! Please review, and please (shameless self-plug here) go ready my other fanfic, called Waking Up! It's a 2009 Star Trek fanfic all about my number one OTP - Kirk and Spock. Thanks for reading!