The Omega Trials

by Samwise Baggins

Who would have thought than an innocent kiss on a hot summer's day would rock the world 83 years later?

8. Stress Relief

Chapter Title: Stress Relief

Author: Sam and Dani

Story: The Omega Trials: 08 of ?

Series: The Omega Rights (part two)

Setting: AU: June 13 and June 14, 1935: Brooklyn, New York, United States of America

xxx

Translations:

Seamus - James - Irish Gaelic

leanbh - baby - Irish Gaelic

Cariad - Love - Welsh

no parar - don't stop - Spanish

tak - yes - Polish

xxx

Setting: AU: Thursday. June 13, 1935: Brooklyn, New York, United States of America

Graduation held a bittersweet tang for Bucky. With Tata's death just over a year before, the eighteen year old man keenly felt the loss at sometimes the oddest moments; though, the big events or holidays, like Gracie's confirmation over the last winter, or this high school graduation, were times the loss of the patriarch of the Barnes family struck the saddest chord. Clearing his throat, the newly graduated adult merely went through the motions as friends and strangers congratulated him on the accomplishment, shaking hands, making comments, and generally trying to look happy and appreciative of all the well wishes.

When finally the event ended and Bucky found himself standing beside his best friend Steve, Bucky let out a long, deeply held breath and allowed himself to slump. His family had agreed to let him spend the night over at the Rogers's apartment to calm his nerves and get prepared for a job interview the next afternoon. With the death of Tata, all the attention of Bucky's little sisters had firmly swung to their big brother in times of need for masculine guidance. It sometimes overwhelmed him. At least when his Mam had caught him kissing Steve last year, she pretended nothing happened . . . and life had fallen back into a normal routine; Bucky and Steve were extra careful that no one else was around when they pleasured one another.

Taking in the brunet's haggard appearance, Steve placed his hand on Bucky's shoulder and asked in a quiet voice, "You alright, Buck?"

Blinking, the taller man turned to look at his sixteen year old best friend. He offered a smile, knowing it appeared more nervous and tired than encouraging. "I will be. It's just this interview . . . I've held that job around the docks and warehouses, cleaning and stuff, but this one means more, ya know? I mean, this guy wants to hire me to fix cars . . . an adult job."

Nodding understandingly, Steve suggested, "How about Momma and I help you get ready? We can pretend that we're him and ask ya' questions that he might ask you tomorrow. Maybe it'll calm your nerves a bit?"

A smile stretched over Bucky's lean, handsome features, actually reaching his eyes. "And I thought I was stayin' the night just to avoid the girls pestering me with their excited questions and Gracie's dog from trying to whine her distracting way into treats and cuddles." After his seventeenth birthday party, Gracie had actually claimed his puppy for herself, and no one, least of all Bucky, had protested the claim.

Bucky draped his arm easily over Steve's thin, bony shoulder, a guy out with his best friend. "I'd really appreciate the help, actually, Steve. I feel like I'm going to say the wrong thing and blow it . . . and we need the better money from this." He took a breath and began guiding Steve through the thinning crowd from the venue the graduation had been held in. "I mean, how many eighteen year olds get a shot at a real, full time job in these days?"

"I'm sure ya' will do great no matter what, Bucky. But I'm sure Momma will be excited to help. I know I will be. Might get ta' boss ya' around a bit," Steve joked, poking his best friend in the side playfully.

"You can boss me anytime ya want, punk." Bucky grinned at him, his tension easing the more he spent one on one time with his best friend. "Let's get back to your place and get some chow, though. I'm starved."

The blond scrunched up his nose in confusion, "Starved? How can you be hungry?"

With a small chuckle, Bucky looked down at Steve. "Well, I was so nervous about today and tomorrow, and the girls didn't let me sleep much . . . I skipped breakfast." He let his voice drop to a more sheepish whisper, "I kind of felt like I'd vomit, ya know?"

Knowing the feeling all too well, Steve nodded again, "I get it, but ya' really shouldn't skip meals, Buck. Plus, breakfast can start your day off in a good mood!"

The brunet stopped walking, flushing slightly as he leaned close to Steve's ear, not wanting anyone else to hear his words. "I get sick after eating sometimes if I'm too tense. Now," he sighed, eyes worried, "I just don't eat if I'm getting nervous."

Steve looked up at the brunet and nodded once, dropping the subject. The blond couldn't blame his friend for feeling nervous, and if that made him feel sick, well he couldn't blame him for not wanting to eat with a queasy stomach, as long as he didn't keep skipping meals like he had right after his father died. "Well then, let's get ya' home. I'm sure Momma is making something good for dinner."

Bucky's stomach audible rumbled and the taller man laughed, nodding enthusiastically. "Yeah. I could use food." He offered his friend a grin and began walking a bit faster, not too fast for his smaller friend but enough to display his desire for Sarah's cooking. It didn't take long to get to the old tenement.

Reaching over, Bucky turned the doorknob to the building and dropped his other arm from Steve's shoulders. "Here we are . . ." he grinned, referring to his own home as he added, "end of the line, Stevie."

Playfully shoving Bucky as he stepped inside the building, the blond chuckled, "You're a jerk, ya know that?"

"Me?" Bucky lay his left hand over his chest and blinked almost innocently at the blond. "How am I a jerk for walking ya home, ya punk?" His blue-grey eyes danced in mischief and laughter.

"Don't live in the front hall, ya' jerk." Steve laughed and continued walking up the steps to get to get to his apartment.

Bucky threw his head back on a rolling laugh. Steve always had a way of calming him down, grounding him. He trotted up the steps behind the smaller teen. "Okay, I guess you caught me." The brunet slipped in front of Steve easily, since he could go faster than the asthmatic with the heart condition.

Once Steve got to the proper floor, he found Bucky already standing in front of the correct apartment, a big grin on his face.

"It ain't a race, Buck." Steve huffed, slightly out of breath from climbing all those stairs, "And ya' could've just walked in. Momma wouldn't have minded."

Grin widening, Bucky asked "Why do you think everyone else is competing, punk?" Bucky opened the door, calling out "Sarah? I'm . . . oh!" He stopped in the doorway, eyes widening at the sight of the homemade decorations stringing the small room. A banner, hand decorated by Steve, hung slightly crooked across the far wall, reading 'Congratulations, Valedictorian!'

Sarah turned and smiled, apparently having just finished icing a small chocolate cake. "Seamus! Come in. Don't just stand in the hall, leanbh."

"Sorry, Momma." Steve grinned, having caught his breath he gently pushed the brunet further into the room, closing the door behind him, "C'mon, Buck, the decorations ain't that bad." His tone sounded light, but inside he worried that his friend didn't like the banner he had spent hours designing.

Bucky walked in, looking at the meager offerings, feeling as if Macy's had thrown open their store at Christmas and offered him free pick. He slowly looked around at all the effort and love the small family had put into this surprise party. Finally, he stopped and looked at Steve, eyes huge and overflowing with the love he really never spoke out loud unless they cuddled privately in bed. "It's great, Steve! Sarah," he added as an embarrassed afterthought.

Steve felt his cheeks flush and he shrugged, "Ain't nothing special. Just thought I'd surprise you. I really am proud of you."

"We both are, Seamus," Sarah added with a smile, giving Bucky a light hug and a soft kiss on the cheek. When his stomach growled again, the gentle woman pulled back and looked surprised. "James Buchanan Barnes, did you skip lunch again?" Her tone, still soft, turned firm like it did when correcting them for something stupid.

"And breakfast!" Steve added, "He's famished!"

Flushing, Bucky hung his head. "Yes, Ma'am," he said, embarrassed. He knew his own Mam must have discussed the continuing habit with Sarah, probably because she worked as a nurse and Mam had been worried.

Rolling her eyes, Sarah let Bucky go completely and turned back to the stove. "Well, you boys wash up then set the table. We better get you fed." Her voice sounded fondly exasperated, so apparently, his habit didn't over-worry her at the moment.

"Yes, Momma." Steve grinned and tugged at Bucky's shirt, dragging him in the direction of the washroom.

Bucky willingly let Steve guide him as he offered a sheepish glance at the blond. They were shortly ready and sitting down with Sarah to a warm dinner and celebratory cake.

Once the meal had been consumed, Sarah cleared the table then sat back with the boys. "Do you have plans tonight, leanbh? Seamus?"

Steve's eyes widened slightly and his body perked up, "Oh! Yeah, Momma, Bucky was wondering if we could help him get ready for his big interview tomorrow. He's real nervous."

Blue-grey eyes wide, Bucky turned his attention to Sarah, hopefully, nerves flaring again. He felt his stomach start to turn over, but firmly tried to fight it since he certainly didn't want to get sick and lose that wonderful meal. "Steve thought you both could pretend to interview me? I'm going to . . . well, he's thinking on hiring me to work on cars . . ."

Sarah nodded. "Yes, I think that's a good idea. It helps to think out what you want to say." She smiled proudly at her son, light blue eyes dancing. "So, Seamus, why don't you go into the other room then come in as if you're arriving for your interview."

The brunet rose, glancing at Steve, eyes widening. "Um . . ."

Steve gave Bucky a supportive nod of his head and smiled, "Go on, Bucky. We promise we'll be nice."

With a deep breath, Bucky nodded and walked into the living room section of the wide open yet tiny apartment. Straightening his dress shirt, he froze. "Oh no! I forgot my other clothes for the interview!"

Sarah offered her son a gentle smile. "I'll rescue our boy," she assured him and whisked Bucky into Steve's bedroom. Soon the pair emerged, Sarah with the sunday clothes Bucky had worn for graduation, and Bucky in the old borrowed work clothes that had belonged to Joseph Rogers. Steve's mother said, "I'll wash these now as you two start practicing, but don't worry. I'll call out questions as I think of them, too. These should dry overnight in this June heat and you'll have them for tomorrow." With that, Sarah pulled out her scrub tub and got to work.

Nodding, Bucky went back to the living room area and slowly walked to the kitchen and dining half of the open room. Without knowing what else to do, he raised his hand and said "Knock knock."

Steve, trying his hardest to keep a serious tone and not laugh, stood up straight and said, "Ah! Yes, come in my boy."

Bucky lost it. He bent double and began laughing, holding his abdomen as tears came to his eyes. "My boy? God, Steve, you saying that is just too funny."

"Do not take the Lord's name in vain, Seamus," Sarah firmly corrected.

Flushing, Bucky nodded and straightened, but his eyes danced any way. Clearing his throat, trying to get back under control, he said, "Sir, thank you for seeing me." He held his hand out to Steve and offered a sunny smile. "James Barnes, Sir."

The blond took his friend's hand and shook it as firmly as he could. "Pleasure to meet you, James."

"Da . . . ng," Bucky gasped, glancing over at Sarah as he changed his swear. He looked back to Steve. "Don't haveta cripple me, Steve!"

"Are we or are we not practicing your interview," Steve quirked a brow, his face staying passive. "Stop interrupting, we'll never get to actually practice questions at this rate."

Smiling briefly, Bucky nodded then cleared his features once more. "Thank you, sir. The pleasure is mine." He frowned. "Wait, does that sound right? I mean, isn't that what you say to a . . . woman? Do you say that to a man, too?"

From the laundry basin, Sarah called out. "Just reply, 'Thank you, Sir, for this opportunity.' And let him guide you to a chair."

"Oh," Bucky said then turned to Steve. "Okay, again, please?" He had forgotten his hand still in Steve's and suddenly he dropped the cold, slender fingers. "Should I come in again or . . ."

Steve motioned to the living room with a tilt of his chin, "Yeah, let's start from the top. No interrupting this time."

The brunet nodded and headed back into the living room section. He turned and walked to the imaginary divider, raised his hand, and said "knock knock," but his voice had become subdued. His nerves had grown with the attempt to keep serious.

"Ah! Yes, please come in." Steve stated, dropping the 'my boy' because he didn't want to send Bucky back into a fit of giggles.

"Thank you, sir, for seeing me." Bucky stepped into the kitchen.

Steve quirked an eyebrow and whispered, "And who are you?"

Bucky immediately flushed beet red and stammered, "Uh, sorry, I forgot. Uh . . ." He cleared his throat, tugged his shirt straight in nervous habit, and nodded, stepping back to the other 'room'. With a nod, he smiled and stepped into the kitchen, holding out his hand. "Thank you for seeing me, sir. I'm James Barnes."

Shaking the brunet's hand, not quite as hard as the first time, Steve replied, "Pleasure to meet you, James."

With a smiling nod, Bucky said. "Thank you, sir." He looked towards Sarah then sighed and looked back at Steve. "I already said thanks for the opportunity, didn't I? Before I said my name?" He looked thoughtful . . . Bucky was not a stupid man. "Okay, so if that happens I'll reply 'Thank you, Sir.' and just leave it at that."

"If you do happen to repeat yourself, just go with it . . ." Steve began.

Sarah cleared her throat to interrupt her son. "Ask him to sit, Steve." For the first time, she used her son's name, not calling him 'baby' in her native language. Maybe seeing him in this adult interview situation had made her realize her baby was actually growing up.

"Right," Steve nodded, and changed his tone back to serious, "Please, James. Have a seat."

Bucky didn't comment about their side-bar remarks, instead going with it, as Steve had suggested. He continued to smile and sank onto a chair. "Thank you, sir."

The blond sat down across from his friend and folded his arms on the table, "So, James. Tell me why I should hire you as my mechanic? You have any previous experience?"

Blinking once, the question having startled him, Bucky leaned forward slightly and nodded. "I'm a hard worker and take direction well. I love to fix things and cars fascinate me. I want to do my best for you, so your customers are happy and keep recommending you." He stopped. "Is that too overboard, Steve? Not enough?"

"No, that's good, Bucky." Steve smiled, before switching back over, "But have you ever worked in a garage before?"

With one firm shake of his head, Bucky answered "Not for pay, sir, but I was top in a class of one hundred seventeen in school, and took mechanics and industrial wiring for all four years."

With an impressed nod of his head, Steve continued, "You have worked for pay before, yes?"

"Yes, sir, as a janitor for several businesses and warehouses on the docks. It was part time work after school." Bucky leaned back from the table a bit, since he had been sitting in that forward leaning pose the entire time so far.

"And what do you see as your greatest strengths?" Steve asked.

Smiling, Bucky said "I like people and they seem to feel relaxed around me. I also speak eight languages . . ." Bucky frowned and flushed. "Maybe I shouldn't say that bit. It's not like cars talk."

"No," Steve shook his head, "It's a great asset. You'd be able to help a lot of customers."

Sitting back on her heels, eyes widening, Sarah asked breathlessly, "Eight? Fluently or just a bit here and there, Seamus?"

Bucky shrugged. "Fluently. I'm hoping to find someone to teach me Italian or Portuguese or maybe Russian." Tilting his head, Bucky asked "Or would it be nine if I included English?"

Mrs. Rogers looked like she didn't know how to answer that. Clearing her throat she asked, "And, James, what do you see as your greatest weaknesses?"

Slowly, the brunet's blue-grey eyes widened with on setting panic. "Weak . . . nesses?" He'd never thought of that question and, all his own problems flashing through his head, he didn't want to mention any of them. He needed this job, but to admit to something wrong . . . wouldn't that make the guy just refuse? Finally, slowly looking from Sarah to Steve, he whispered, "Will he really ask that? He wants me to tell him why he shouldn't hire me?"

Sarah rose to her feet, drying her soapy hands on her apron. She walked over and sat at the table. "Seamus, he wants to make sure you are aware of your own faults and that you want to work on improving. After telling him one or two, you assure him honestly that you are working on improving."

"Oh," Bucky said, almost inaudibly. He lay his left hand over his abdomen, worry in his eyes.

"It's okay, Buck." Steve said softly, "Just say something you are comfortable with, something that can be a negative and a positive at the same time."

Blurting the first thing to come to mind, Bucky said "I care about people a lot and want to make sure they're satisfied with the work I do? If they aren't happy, it bothers me and makes me want to work harder?"

"Good, Buck. Just like that." Steve reassured, "That way even your negative fault can be turned into a positive asset."

Standing, Sarah moved back to the clothes she was washing and rinsed them once more before putting them through her clothes wringer. "I'll hang these up. You boys go to bed. I think that's enough tonight."

Drawing a shaking breath, Bucky ran his hand through his dark hair. "Oh . . . okay." He sat, feeling as if he'd been through that graduation ceremony all over again. Sarah was correct: he felt drained and in need of sleep.

Steve stood up and walked over to his best friend. "C'mon, Buck. Let's getcha in bed." He gently pulled on Bucky's sleeve. The brunet, mindlessly, stood up and followed Steve down the hall and into the blond's small bedroom.

Bucky stripped down, placing the borrowed clothes and his own underclothing in a neat pile on Steve's chair. Nude, he turned to Steve, eyes wide and worried, as he replayed all of his own faults in his mind, trying to decide which one would be his best positive fault so he didn't lose out on this job. He needed it to support his family; his Mam worked so very hard as it was.

"Buck?" Steve called out, his tone soft and concerned, "You alright?"

The brunet turned his head and blinked at Steve, his worry hard to disguise in his expressive eyes. "Yeah?" He climbed into the small bed. "I think I need a hug . . . or a kiss," he ended on a whisper.

Steve crossed the room in three of his tiny strides and hugged Bucky tightly, kissing the brunet's chest gently. "It'll be okay, Bucky. Everything will work out."

Bucky leaned into the kiss, kneeling on the mattress to reach Steve's mouth as he stood beside the bed. Breaking the kiss, he murmured, "hold me? Please?"

The small blond sank into the mattress and patted the empty spot next to him, "C'mere, Buck."

Turning to his best friend, Bucky sidled closer and into Steve's arms. With a near sob, he sealed his mouth over the other teen's and hugged him close. "Still dressed, Stevie," Bucky broke the kiss to breath into Steve's mouth.

The smaller boy smirked, leaning in to whisper in Bucky's ear, "Well, we oughta fix that."

Bucky nodded and started unbuttoning Steve's shirt, trailing kisses over his cheek and to his ear. Sucking in Steve's lobe gently, Bucky whimpered, "I need cuddles."

The blond quickly stripped of the rest of his clothing and kissed Bucky's lips gently. "Don't worry, Buck. I got you." Steve murmured, trailing kisses on the brunet's neck.

With a nod, Bucky pulled Steve down onto the bed, wrapped the smaller teen in strong arms, and sighed, face buried in Steve's neck. Shortly, the blond could hear Bucky's soft breathing as he tumbled gently into sleep. Steve followed with a smile of relief, certain Bucky would get the job and things would be well.

xxx

Setting: AU: Friday. June 14, 1935: Brooklyn, New York, United States of America

Waiting for the dress clothes to finish drying, Bucky got more nervous as time crept closer to his appointment. He sat, once more in Mr. Rogers's old clothing, on Steve's bed, flipping idly through the first sketchbook he'd made for Steve years ago. With a small smile, he came across the nude portrait of himself at fifteen. With a shake of his head, he put the book, closed, aside and began to worry again. He dreaded the question about his weaknesses, having not yet determined which one he could use best.

Steve, having waited until his Momma left for work, made his way back to his bedroom. He quietly opened the door, unaware if the brunet slept, and saw a very anxious looking Bucky sitting on the edge of the bed. Softly closing the door behind him, he said, "Hey, Buck. I know what you need."

Bucky raised his eyes, wide and desperate, and tilted his head a bit. He shook his head as if comprehension might be beyond him. "Steve?" His voice came out low and raspy.

The smaller boy made his way over to where Bucky sat and kneeled down in between the brunet's legs. He peered up at his best friend through his long lashes and gave him a wicked smile. With expert fingers Steve quickly untied Bucky's pants and pulled out his already hardening member. Steve licked the underside of the brunet's shaft, right along the vein, making the older man's hardness twitch, and then flicked his tongue over the slit, which already leaked precum.

With a low groan, Bucky let his head fall back, hands clenching on Steve's shoulders. "God, Stevie! Please . . ." he begged before falling into broken English. "Cariad, no parar."

Steve wrapped his lips around the head before slowly moving up the shaft, bobbing his head as he went. Once he felt Bucky's tip almost hit the back of his throat, he hollowed out his cheeks and starting making low humming noises. Deciding that he could go further, Steve gripped Bucky's hips and pushed the brunet further down his throat. Ignoring his body's natural urge to gag, Steve managed to get his best friend's shaft all the way into his mouth, the head pushing into the blond's throat.

With a small yelp, Bucky nearly jumped off the bed, but managed to keep mostly still, his hips bucking slightly before he caught himself. He wrapped his left hand into Steve's hair and tugged very slightly, eyes watching Steve intently, glazed slightly. "Cariad . . . God . . . tak . . ."

The blond only sucked harder at the praise. Wanting to do everything in his power to help the brunet relax. Steve made another round of low humming noises from the back of his throat, causing Bucky to thrust his hips up hard, his member shunting all the way into Steve's glorious mouth . . . to the root.

Panting, Bucky called "Stevie . . . cumming . . ." and he tugged almost gently at Steve's head so the blond could pull off.

Steve only latched on tighter to his friend's hips, not wanting to pull away. He continued making the humming noises that the brunet seemed to like.

His member thickening, balls pulling taut, Bucky thrust again and came, throwing his head back and arching his back almost painfully. He didn't make any loud sounds, but his babble had filled with foreign words of love mixed with nearly every dirty sexual word the brunet knew in his nine languages. Thick hot jets of seed pumped into Steve's willing throat. Bucky whited out for a moment, his mind going blank with the explosive orgasm, before blinking back into satiated awareness.

Steve sucked on Bucky's member, swirling his tongue around the sensitive flesh as he cleaned his best friend, the brunet continuing to gently thrust into his mouth. After a few more moments, Steve slowly slid his mouth off of the spongy head of Bucky's manhood, strings of saliva pulling tight then snapping as the blond backed away slightly.

Once Steve finished cleaning the nearly limp brunet, Bucky shook himself slightly. A wicked grin crossed his face and he tugged Steve to his feet. "My turn," he growled low and quickly unfastened the blond's pants and drawers, letting the material fall to the floor, unheeded. Shifting his eyes to stare at Steve's beautifully erect member, Bucky groaned softly. "All mine," he purred, and pulled Steve up onto his lap. Bending his head down to meet Steve's lips, Bucky slipped his tongue inside, tasting himself in the other teen's hot mouth.

Fumbling at Steve's bedside table, Bucky managed to pull out the jar of lubricant prescribed by the fertility doctor. Without breaking the kiss, Bucky one-handed uncapped the jar and dipped his fingers inside the lube. With his right arm, Bucky pulled Steve close, his friend's erection neatly sliding over his own flaccid member, which actually jerked in over-sensitized reaction. Bucky's eyes nearly rolled back but he forced himself into control. He intended to give Steve as much pleasure as the other teen had given him.

Reaching down his left hand, Bucky stroked his lubed fingers over Steve's erection, kissing deeply and using his tongue to imitate his rhythm. Letting go of Steve's hip, Bucky moved his right hand to wrap fully around Steve's member then slid his left hand back over the blond's side and to his puckered opening behind. "You want this, Cariad?"

"Yes," Steve breathed as he arched his body to press into Bucky's hand, "God . . . yes, Buck. Please."

With a lustful smile, right against Steve's lips, Bucky nodded a little. "Okay, Cariad, hold on tight." And he carefully slid his left index finger into Steve in one practiced gesture, sliding all the way to his palm and cupping his friend's hot ass. After a mere breath, Bucky began to thrust his finger in and out of Steve's passage, mimicking his hand strokes on Steve's thick member, brushing the blond's prostate with every other well aimed stroke.

Throwing his head back and letting his eyes flutter close in pure ecstasy, Steve groaned, "Buck . . . Buck . . . You're perfect, God . . . Buck."

Groaning softly at each subtle movement from Steve's writhing body, Bucky finally stopped his stroking and thrusting. "Hold on, Cariad, we're moving," he breathed into the other teen's mouth. Without removing his deeply embedded finger, Bucky used his right hand to slide them backwards on the bed, so he lay fully spread out below Steve. Once lying down, Bucky again wrapped his calloused hand around his best friend's hot member and stroked, his finger taking up the erotic dance inside Steve once more.

"Buck . . . Bucky, I'm gonna . . . I'm gonna . . ." Steve muttered, unable to form words due to the overwhelming pleasure his body felt.

Understanding his friend's broken pleas, Bucky pulled his mouth away long enough to moan, "Cum in my mouth, Cariad. I wanna taste you."

Looking down at the brunet with hooded eyes, Steve knelt over Bucky and pressed the tip of his member to the older man's lips. The brunet opened his mouth willingly, almost hungrily, and welcomed the intrusion. Slowly, Bucky eased a second lubed finger into Steve's tight passage, grinning around Steve's shaft as the blond loudly groaned his pleasure.

The wet heat of Bucky's mouth pushed Steve over the edge. Frantically, the blond bucked his hips, his member thrusting deeper into the brunet's mouth. Bucky purred in his throat, and Steve, unable to give any warning, came hard and fast into the other teen's mouth, biting down hard on his own arm as he tried to muffle his screams of ecstasy. Bucky greedily sucked down every hot spurt of his best friend's cum, using his clever tongue to clean around Steve's member and under his foreskin.

Finally, Bucky eased his fingers out of Steve's ass and pulled off his friend's shaft with a near obscene noise. Eyes dark, pupils blown wide, Bucky stretched under the languid weight of the other teen and grinned in satisfaction. He tugged Steve down, once more sealing their lips in a kiss of deep need, rolling their flavors back and forth over their tongues. Pulling away a breath, Bucky whispered, "you're gonna scar that arm one of these days, Cariad." He chuckled at Steve's blissful sigh.

"You had me actually finish in your mouth, Buck. Not just cleanin' me afterwards, like last time." Steve grinned, finally figuring out how to talk coherently again.

Smiling softly, Bucky stroked Steve's hair then down his neck and shoulder. "Well, you seemed to like it so much, I thought I'd try it out. Not bad. I didn't mind it after all," he admitted to the blond.

"You feelin' better, Buck?" The blond asked, "Not so nervous?"

"God, yes, Stevie!" Bucky growled playfully, too satiated to feel nervous over his coming interview. "You really do know how to relax me, Cariad." He sighed and lightly slapped Steve's buttock. "I gotta get dressed, though, so let me up?"

Steve nodded and laughed, flopping down on the bed beside his best friend. The other boy patted the blond's abdomen in light affection then rose and walked, nude, from the bedroom in order to prepare.

Quickly, Bucky washed up and changed into his finally dry interview suit. He stepped back into Steve's room. Tying his tie with quick, clever fingers, Bucky walked over to the bed and leaned over. Giving Steve a lingering kiss, the brunet softly said, "gotta go, Stevie. I'll be back tonight, okay?"

"Mm'kay." Steve muttered, looking up at Bucky.

Bucky groaned softly at the blond stretched, well loved and looking decadent, across the mussed bed. He turned and strode quickly from the room, shutting the door behind him with a firm click of determination. Bucky let himself from the apartment.

Sighing, Steve let a smile stretch across his face before a wave of pain rushed through his body, radiating from his abdomen. The blond curled into himself, trying to alleviate some of the misery. He buried his face in the pillow and urged the severe cramping to go away. After a few moments, the pain seemed to subside a little and Steve was able to sit up.

Shakily, he made his way into the bathroom. He grabbed one of the cloths from the small cupboard beneath the sink and went to wipe away some of the excess lube. His eyes widened at the dark red stains that smeared across the white fabric. Steve determined that the blood must have been from Bucky accidentally being too rough, although he hadn't felt like it at the time. Steve knew that he couldn't tell his best friend about the blood; knowing Bucky, he would probably never do it again if he knew about the small tear.

Steve sighed. He knew they had agreed they'd only be doing this with each other until they found girlfriends, and Bucky had lots of girlfriends. The older man never seemed to stay with one dame for long, though, and always came back to Steve, who never got a girlfriend since he was so skinny and sick looking. Steve felt selfish when he hoped Bucky wouldn't keep a girlfriend for a long time; he loved practicing these things with the other man. Just cause they practiced didn't make Bucky a queer, Steve hoped.

The blond already knew he was queer, but a man married and had kids, so he would hide his unnatural preference and do what he was supposed to . . . though he had to tell his future wife, whoever she would be, that he couldn't have kids. Maybe they could take in an orphan like in Tata's story from years ago. And it wasn't like Steve wanted other men . . . just Bucky. Maybe if he did these things with a dame, he wouldn't feel so attracted to Bucky? That must be the answer: he desired Bucky because they pleasured each other. Once he found a dame, things would change. For some reason, the thought didn't cheer him up.

Within an hour Bucky returned after the interview and, looking at Steve curled on the bed with his sketch pad, began laughing, saying "He called me 'my boy' and I nearly laughed in his face, you punk!" He shook his head, stripping his tie from his neck, letting it slip to the desk, then started opening the buttons of his shirt. "And he didn't ask about my faults or anything like that. He wanted to know how well I did in automotive class and when I could work."

"So?" Steve felt excitement bubble up, "you got the job?"

Bucky spread his arms in a gesture of happy welcome, a large grin on his face. "I got the job," he answered confidently.

With a happy yell, Steve launched his nude form into Bucky's arms, sealing their mouths in a heartfelt kiss. "I knew ya could, Buck!"

When Bucky began to kiss Steve back with the same enthusiasm, Steve's troubled heart gave a flip then began to ache. It didn't matter if they were queer or not; Steve realized he had gone and fallen in love with his very best friend. Steve loved Bucky more than anyone else in the world! And to tell the other teen that sudden realization could damage their friendship for all time. As Tata had warned, men would arrest or even kill them for the love Steve harbored. To keep Bucky safe, Steve knew he could not ever tell his friend of his unnatural feelings; he would continue to play the role of friend and bury the desire to be Bucky's lover. Of course, Steve couldn't deprive himself of all pleasures in life. So, as long as Bucky wanted to keep practicing, Steve would be more than happy to experiment with the adventurous man. Selfishly, Steve hoped that would continue for a long time.

xxx

Continued in Chapter Nine: Sarah