"You both seem a hell of a lot healthier now."
"Oh, uh, when did we meet before? You're...Sam?"
"Sam Wilson. Last saw you on a helicarrier."
Bucky winced. "...wings?" A nod. But that meant Sam had last seen him before he got injured and sick. "And...both of us? Was there something wrong with Steve beyond the...fight?"
Sam glanced at Steve, deep in conversation with an awestruck Trip about something and not paying attention to them. "He isn't as adjusted to the modern world or losing everything he knew as he pretends to be. I don't think he was finding a lot of purpose in his life before he found you again."
"What do you mean? Do I need to be concerned?" Bucky put his drink down as he automatically zeroed in on Steve in danger. He wasn't interested anymore.
Sam chucked a little at his reaction. "You really are protective of him. He was…reckless, put himself in more danger than his missions warranted, just kind of seemed lost and unconcerned with safety."
"He's always done stupid reckless shit constantly. But...you're talking about beyond that, aren't you."
"Yeah." They both looked at Steve, animatedly explaining something. "Look at him now though. He's happy. I've never seen him happy before. Told me once that he didn't know what made him happy." Sam told Bucky. "And look at you. You've got color in your face and a twinkle in your eyes. You looked terrible before."
"Gee thanks. I'll...do my best to keep a close eye on Steve."
Sam pushed the drink back at him, bumping the glass against Bucky's knuckles. "Relax. He's going to be fine so long as you're around. He changed, as soon as he realized you were alive. You're the most important thing in his world, you know."
"The feeling is mutual." Bucky spotted Thor pressing a beer stein into Steve's hand. "Oh boy. That'll be that Asgardian mead that he thinks will actually get Steve drunk."
"Worth watching?"
"I don't remember, but my instinct says yes."
Steve, as it turned out, was a giggly drunk. The mead didn't last very long on him, but Thor had brought back an entire keg of it, from which they kept re-dosing Steve because watching a big usually-reserved soldier acting like a teenage girl was absolutely hilarious. Bucky acted exasperated at his boyfriend's behavior, but nobody fell for the act. If anything, he felt rather blissful lounging on the couch with Steve sprawled across his lap and gleefully telling stories of scrapes they'd gotten into as kids.
"Bedtime." Bucky eventually informed his giggly boyfriend firmly. It was late and nearly everybody had retired for the night already, leaving just the two of them stretched out on the couch with Trip and Skye sprawled against it listening to Steve's stories like a couple of awestruck kids listening to their grandfather's tall tales. Bucky supposed that in a way they kind of were.
"Awwwww…." All three protested.
Bucky rolled his eyes fondly. "I'm the oldest and I say it's past all our bedtimes. You don't want to get dragged to the gym on zero hours sleep, do you?"
Steve huffed and chugged the last of the mead in one go. "There are very few people here who outrank me, so I say we can sleep in and work out when I say we work out."
"Unless of course Steve would like me to start adding some stories of my own." Bucky continued unperturbed, "Namely ones involving him being a complete and utter idiot and making a fool of himself. You may have overheard the story about the fondue incident, but I bet you haven't heard about the time that he…"
Steve jumped up slightly tipsily. "You're right, Buck. Look at the time! Bed, everybody. Let's go. Things to do in the morning!"
Bucky restrained himself from audibly snickering as he followed him onto the elevator and snaked an arm around his boyfriend's hips. He hadn't actually had a story in mind to tell, though he was certain (and Steve's reaction confirmed it) there were more than enough that would fit the bill.
Steve leaned into the solid body at his side. "You're a jerk. But you're a hot jerk."
Bucky smirked at him. "Not bad yourself, punk."
Steve squirmed against his side rather like an eager puppy, but waited until the door of their apartment had (barely) closed behind them to attach his lips to Bucky's neck. Bucky rolled his eyes but grinned anyway. A giggly frisky drunk. Captain America, ladies and germs. Well, at least he was still rather talented with his mouth even after an entire keg of Asgardian mead.
Bucky picked his boyfriend up, not minding one bit the excuse to grip his ass, and carried him into the bedroom, where he dumped him on his back on the bed and crawled on top of him.
Steve's hands had gotten Bucky's shirt untucked and slipped up underneath it before Bucky had even gotten all the way onto the bed himself. Definitely uninhibited by the alcohol still. Bucky's heart was racing slightly from the speed at which this was progressing, but he doing okay. Steve's hands on his sides didn't feel like Hydra, and the kissing definitely didn't.
Besides, there was no denying that he enjoyed this. It may have been the first time he'd (well, either of them had) gone this far, but their bodies were very much with the program. He shifted his weight onto his metal arm and freed up his flesh hand to begin unbuttoning Steve's shirt. That should come off. That was the logical next step, because petting and kissing his boyfriend's torso seemed like a good thing to do.
Steve seemed to agree with that sentiment, because he broke the kiss to (attempt to) undo Bucky's buttons with his teeth. That was right; Tony had recently been waxing poetic about how sexy a trick that was. Of course, it clearly required practice, because Steve wasn't having much success at it. Bucky tried to keep it together, because it wasn't like he was exactly practiced at this either, but eventually gave in and succumbed to a fit of giggles.
"Jerk." Steve pouted.
"Sorry." Bucky kissed him. "I shouldn't laugh. It's not your fault my shirt isn't cooperating with you." Steve made a grumpy little noise that was so cute that it just made Bucky laugh harder. Steve growled and flipped them over, drawing a yelp and quickening of his pulse from Bucky. Okay, this made him a little nervous. He hated that it did. This should be fun.
Steve felt Bucky stiffen under him and looked up from his determined attempt to conquer the buttons. "Are you okay?"
Bucky struggled to make the words come out. "Get your hand off my shoulder. Please."
Steve did so without question. "Better?"
"Yeah." Bucky felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest. "Don't…Don't push on my shoulders. It makes me feel weird."
"Okay." Steve rolled over on his side, wrapping his arm around Bucky's back to pull him along with him so that they lay nose to nose with their limbs entwined. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"No." Bucky assured him. "I just—hand on my shoulder pushing me down. I'm sorry." He buried his face in Steve's neck. Why did he have to be so messed up. He'd ruined everything.
"Oh Buck." Steve kissed the top of his head and held him close, thumb rubbing little circles on his back. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I should've paid more attention to what I was doing. You have every right to be bothered by that." God, he was an idiot. Pinning his traumatized boyfriend down? Really? How could he have been so tactless? It was amazing that Bucky still wanted to snuggle up to him after that.
After a minute, Bucky hiked his leg up higher over Steve's hip, pulling them more securely together, and extracted his head from the crook of Steve's neck to kiss him softly. He didn't want Steve thinking that he was angry at him or not enjoying the intimacy. Steve seemed surprised, but reciprocated the kiss after a beat.
This was better. This was good. He liked this a lot as long as he wasn't being pushed down. The hand that wasn't trapped under Steve resumed unbuttoning the other man's shirt. Steve gave up on his failure of a bedroom trick (or maybe he just didn't want to stop kissing Bucky) and returned the favor, agile artist's fingers working faster than Bucky's so that they finished at almost the same time.
Steve scooted down fluidly to more easily pepper Bucky's chest and stomach with a flurry of little kisses, taking care to keep his hands away and instead lightly head butting his boyfriend's chest to get him to roll over. Bucky obliged and Steve settled himself between his legs, doing his best to nibble and suck every inch of skin that was now accessible to him, getting rougher and bolder as Bucky moaned and squirmed under him.
Oh that was good. Bucky was more than okay with the way that Steve was currently positioned on top of him, especially when he was doing this. He tangled his flesh hand in Steve's hair (metal hand doing the same with the bedclothes, which couldn't feel pain) and audibly whimpered when Steve swirled his tongue around his nipple.
I'm trying to get back to posting, really, I am.