Chapter Title: Desperate Explorations
Author: Sam and Dani
Story: The Omega Trials: 11 of ?
Series: The Omega Rights (part two)
Setting: AU: December 5-7, 1941: Brooklyn, New York, United States of America
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Translations:
Cariad - Love - Welsh
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Setting: AU: Friday, December 5, 1941: Brooklyn, New York, United States of America
Steve walked up the familiar steps to the Men's Health clinic. He had to force himself not to double-over in pain as another wave of cramping coursed through him. Clutching the stone railing tightly, Steve took a deep breath and continued walking up to the front door. The blond looked over at the sign on the door and released a small sigh.
The sign on the door once read 'Dr. Keilmeyer, Men's Health,' but for the past two years the name had been replaced by Dr. C. Johnson, Keilmeyer's replacement since he'd been recalled by his sponsors to Germany in mid 1939. The office hadn't changed much, still the single desk and bed, the numerous scattered chairs, the well stocked cabinets, and the fading Chinese Silk screen for patient privacy. What had changed was the doctor, naturally: Christopher Johnson was short, thin, and athletic with strawberry-blond hair, freckles, and enormous glasses he kept on a chain around his neck. He looked too young to be an expert in men's health issues, let alone Steve's particular, and very rare, condition. At least the young doctor, maybe two or three years older than Steve's own twenty-three years, was friendly and honest, much like his predecessor,
The young man entered the clinic and saw Doctor Johnson sitting in his chair. "Good morning, Doctor," Steve groaned in a pained tone.
Doctor Johnson looked up and frowned upon seeing Steve's condition. "Mister Rogers? Sit before you fall down." The young redhead stood and walked over to his smaller patient, reaching to steady Steve with a strong, yet kind, hand. "That cramping again?" he asked, sounding frustrated. Like Doctor Keilmeyer before him, the only thing Doctor Johnson had been able to suggest for Steve's mysterious cramping had been to reduce stress.
"Yes, Sir," Steve nodded as he carefully sank down in the chair across from Doctor Johnson's desk.
With a sigh, Doctor Johnson nodded and pulled out the patient file on Steve, an eleven year file of regular monthly visits and the occasional emergency exam. "Any bleeding, Mister Rogers?" he asked.
Steve shrugged, wincing at the small movement, "A little."
Thumbing through the file, Doctor Johnson nodded. "Okay, well, we can do another exam . . . run a few tests if you wish?"
"I guess . . . but what's gonna be different this time around?" The blond sighed, he felt frustrated with all the tests; he just wanted this cramping to go away.
"Probably nothing, again," the doctor replied and offered Steve a friendly smile. "But, at least we can be sure it's nothing new, right? And, I can offer you a pain prescription if you'd like?"
Steve shook his head once, "No . . . no more prescriptions. But we can do another exam, just to be sure."
Nodding, the doctor stood and left the file open, not hiding it in any way from his patient. This was one doctor, like Keilmeyer before him, who seemed to not mind if Steve saw what was written on himself. "You know the routine then Steve. If you need clean undergarments, feel free to take a pair for afterwards, too." Christopher Johnson waved towards the screen then turned to wash his hands and pull on some white cotton gloves.
The blond nodded and shakily stood up, another wave of pain shooting through his body. Steve had to grab the back of the chair just to keep upright. Steve hissed and clutched his abdomen, trying desperately to will the pain away.
Shocked, Johnson sped over and grabbed Steve, ignoring the glove that hit the floor in favor of helping the obviously intensely pained man. He shook his head. "This is the worst yet, Steve?" He didn't often use his patient's Christian name; it was a sign of true worry.
Nodding, Steve answered, "Yes, Sir. Hurts real bad." The blond knew his tone sounded clipped but he couldn't seem to care about his manners right then.
"Okay, don't bother undressing, Steve. Just let me get you on the bed and lie you down. I'm gonna help you undress, okay?" The doctor's professional accents slipped into a familiar Bronx twang as his worry leaked over. He wrapped a strong arm around the smaller man.
"Alright," Steve said and let the doctor help guide him to the examination bed. Carefully, the blond laid down and tried to ease the pressure on his stomach in any way he could.
Once Steve lay prone on his back, the doctor unfastened the patient's clothes deftly and had Steve wriggle to let him get the trousers and drawers off. He pulled over a sheet to cover Steve with, but did not have him turn over as Steve had with every other rectal exam he'd gone through. Instead, Doctor Johnson looked up. "Put your feet in these metal stirrups," he guided pulling over an odd looking contraption that he fastened to the bed's sides. "And scoot down as close to me as you can get. I need you on the edge of the bed." The doctor stood and got a hot water bottle, already prepared, and wrapped it in a clean towel then placed the rubber bag of water over the thin sheet on Steve's abdomen.
Sighing at the slight relief that the warm bag gave, Steve followed the doctor's instructions.
"Does that help, Steve?' Doctor Johnson asked softly. "Dr. Erksine, the man who initiated the Alpha-Omega-Beta-Gamma research felt it could help some Gamma men with severe cramping, much like a woman's menstrual cycles, though he has yet to reveal why it works." The doctor had begun using Erskine's Greek letter names for the fertility natures.
"Well, Dr. Erksine is a very smart man," Steve mumbled. "Helps a lot. Thank you."
After a minute or so, letting the heat soak into Steve's abdomen and ease his cramps, the redhead finally touched Steve's thigh. "I'm going to do your exam this way, Steve, okay? It's not complicated and has been suggested sometimes for Gammas in pain." He used the terms more easily than Keilmeyer ever had: the dominant Alpha, the Fertile Omega, the Infertile Gamma, and the Beta - - everyone else in the world, pretty much.
"Okay," Steve nodded and let his eyes close. The bag felt as if it worked miracles, and he just felt happy that the cramping subsided a little.
Smiling softly at Steve's obvious relief, Doctor Johnson helped the smaller man spread his thighs as wide as he could, using a fair amount of lube on his gloved hand to help ease his finger inside. Unlike the coach or the other doctor, this one used his middle finger, but that meant it only reached further in so he could feel for lesions or nodules deeper. After quickly and professionally checking Steve's prostate, Doctor Johnson checked further inside . . . then froze. He felt again, and pursed his lips, removing his hand and stripping the glove to toss in the laundry bucket.
"Somethin' wrong, Doc?" Steve asked, opening his eyes, unused to Doctor Johnson having to reach back inside and double check.
"Yes, Steve," Doctor Johnson said, voice troubled. "I feel something . . . odd. Like extra thick tissue or nodules but . . . not real lumps. I'll use the scope, if I may, to see?"
"Go ahead." Steve felt his heart beat a little faster, he didn't like the doctor's tone. It was a tone he'd heard many times before and it always seemed to come right before he got very bad news.
Quickly the doctor prepared the long scope, lubing it and cleaning any extra from the tip so he could see through it. Once ready, he slid it carefully into Steve, not wanting to hurt him with the metal instrument. After an uncommonly long time, the doctor gently removed the scope and set it in iodine. He patted Steve's knee absently, like one might pat a child in passing, and stood up. "Need help dressing, Steve?"
Shaking his head, Steve slowly sat back up and quickly pulled on his undergarments and trousers. Once dressed, the blond looked over at Doctor Johnson and asked, "Doc? What's wrong?" Steve hated how his words came out shaky.
The redhead wrote frantically in the file and switched to several other slips of paper from his various pads on his desk. He looked up at Steve's words. Sighing, he stopped writing and sat across from the patient. "Steve, there is an unusual growth and what appears to be a deep lesion inside your rectum. Let me draw for you what I saw." With that, he pulled over a scratch pad he apparently used for mindless doodles. Quickly, he drew a rather neatly charted passage with the curve of the colon leading off; however, on the side, he seemed to draw a wound that looked like it could be a festering sore, where maybe an infected blister popped and had yet to heal. It leaked blood, obvious by the drawing. The doctor then added what looked like thick matter around this lesion and heading towards the colon. The art wasn't very good, but it was neat and got his point across.
Steve craned his neck to look at the picture better; his heart slammed against his ribcage, and his breathing rate seemed to increase. "Is . . . is it cancer?" The blond asked, he hadn't even muttered the word since the coach had been worried about it all those years ago.
"I'm afraid it looks like nothing I've seen. Well, except once, actually," the doctor sighed, looking troubled.
Turning to look up at the doctor, Steve furrowed his eyebrows, "What happened?"
"Well, she was quite normal, actually." The doctor replied and shook his head. "But it would be impossible for you to have the same condition. You see, your lesion looks much like a menstruating female's cervix." Doctor Johnson didn't even crack a smile at the absurdity.
"Well, what could it be then?" Steve questioned, completely shocked at the news.
Doctor Johnson stood. "Without further tests, biopsies, I can't be sure But it could be an aggressive cancer, Steve. No man I've ever seen looks like that . . . the tissue growth from the lesion to the colon looks like it could be a tumor, however, so perhaps the lesion is a malignancy which has opened and festered?" He didn't mention his cousin Lucas or the man from Peru; it had already been decided that Steve had never presented with female sexual organs all this time, so why would he this late? The redhead looked at Steve with worry and sympathy. "I've written up prescriptions for pain and antibiotics, as well as a consultation request with an oncologist . . . a cancer specialist, Steve." He reached over and ripped the papers from his different notepads. "I'm afraid cancer is beyond me. I'm a fertility doctor. I recommend hot water bottles and possibly prostate massage if you can tolerate it to help keep the growth in check until you are able to see the specialist?"
Numb. That's all that Steve felt. Cancer. He knew that the disease had run in the family; it had taken his Momma's little sister when she was just a kid. The blond knew how serious this was, getting a diagnosis of cancer was just the same as getting your death certificate.
"Steve, Rolf said you had a lover who could help you? You may want to explain to her your condition. If it is cancer, you may only have months to live." The doctor's kind green eyes filled with sympathy.
A few months? A few months was all that he had left? His mind immediately thought of Bucky and the brunet's carefree smile and the way his steel-blue eyes sparkled when he talked about something he enjoyed. How much longer would he be able to look at that smile? Steve nodded once; he could feel his throat constrict, and tears started to blur his vision. "Alright. Uh . . . thanks?"
Standing, the doctor placed a hand on the patient's shoulder. "Go to the pharmacy down the end of this block with those, and they'll fill them and put the bill on our regular file here." It was the least that could be done, not charging Steve for the medicines that could ease him through his painful last months.
Taking the note in his shaking hand, Steve nodded. "Okay. I'll . . . I'll see ya later. Thank you, Doctor Johnson." His voice came out just above a whisper, and he knew he was about to burst into tears.
Steve turned and walked out of the office. Instead of walking in the direction of the pharmacy, the blond found himself walking home. He'd get the prescriptions filled tomorrow, right now he just wanted to go home and see Bucky. That's when he froze. How was he going to tell Bucky? The brunet would lose it and in turn make Steve lose it.
Shaking his head, he stuffed the papers into his coat pocket and figured he'd tell Bucky about the diagnosis later. Right then, all he wanted to do was curl up under the covers with a hot water bottle and hide from the world. The walk back to the apartment didn't take long, Steve quickly unlocked the door and slipped inside. The blond knew Bucky wouldn't be home quite yet, and the thought soothed him a little. He would have time to pull himself together and come up with a way to explain his diagnosis to Bucky without making the brunet freak out.
Steve prepared the hot water bottle and walked into the bedroom. He stripped out of his clothes before climbing into the bed. Laying the bottle on his abdomen, Steve let out a loud sigh. He would tell Bucky in the morning.
Several hours later, when Bucky made it through the door, exhausted and grumpy after a terrible day on the docks - - how he longed for that mechanic's job he'd held only a year - - the brunet noted that Steve had already gone to bed. The smaller man lay on his back with a cold hot water bottle sliding down to one side. Frowning softly, Bucky went to heat water and when it was ready, he replaced the water and lay the thick rubber bottle on Steve's abdomen, wondering if it helped the pain his love would get every few months. Trying not to wake the other man, who seemed utterly worn out, Bucky stripped and slid into bed from the foot, crawling up so he lay between Steve and the wall, as was his habit. He preferred Steve to be on the outside in case the younger man had an emergency in the night and needed to get to the privy real quick.
Promising himself that he'd ask Steve about the doctor's appointment in the morning, Bucky slid his arms gently around his best friend and the man he loved, buried his face in Steve's neck with a delighted inhalation of the blond's almost sweet scent, and fell into a restful sleep.
Steve smiled slightly when he heard the steady breathing that meant Bucky had slipped into sleep. Despite the troubles of the day, and his horrible diagnosis, something about being in Bucky's arms made Steve feel safe and protected. With the calming scent that Bucky seemed to exude, Steve was finally able to close his eyes and let himself fall asleep.
xxx
Setting: AU: Saturday, December 6, 1941: Brooklyn, New York, United States of America
Sighing, Bucky ran a hand through his sweat-drenched hair and pulled his hat back onto his head, blocking out the drifting flakes coming down from the leaden skies above. He practically missed the turn down the narrow alley to the apartment stairs, backing up with another sigh. Climbing the three stories of rickety metal stairs outside the old tenement building, the twenty-four year old brunet finally made it to the old, paint-chipped door. He let his head hang down a moment, wondering how in the world he'd tell Steve of this latest problem.
Groaning, Bucky tried the doorknob, surprised to find it locked. That meant Steve wasn't home, on a Saturday of all times. Maybe he was out doing errands? Bucky hoped Steve hadn't had to go back to the doctor or anything serious. Finding his hidden key under the old crumbling brick, Bucky unlocked the door and let himself into the chilly apartment. Damn, it would be hard to pay for coal without that dock job. Shaking his head, Bucky closed the door but left it unlocked, tossing the key and his hat on the dinner table in the small living area, He kicked off his outdoor shoes and left them haphazardly by the door
Not usually slovenly, Bucky felt too much defeat and exhaustion to bother to pick things up at the moment; he'd get it all later. Instead, he stripped as he walked, tossing his work clothes and drawers at the laundry hamper outside the privy corner. Nude, and chilled in the low heat of the sparse apartment, Bucky made his way into the single bedroom, leaving the door open without a thought. He sank onto the soft quilt and dropped his head into his hands with another groan.
Steve made it to the front door of the apartment, having gone for a walk to try and clear his head. He still had no idea how he would tell Bucky. How would his lover react to hearing such bad news?
Shaking his head, Steve bent down to get the key from under the brick but stopped when he saw that it had already been kicked over. The blond contorted his face in confusion, Bucky wasn't supposed to be home for another few hours. The small man opened the front door carefully and right away saw Bucky's hat and the key on the dining table, and the man's shoes in a heap by the front door. Quietly, Steve took off his own hat, setting it down next to the brunet's. The blond cocked his head when he saw the heap of Bucky's work clothes, singed and greasy, around the hamper: the man had apparently missed. Steve kicked off his own shoes, the newspapers that he'd stuffed in the toes and heels falling out as they landed in close proximity to Bucky's work boots.
The blond walked down the narrow hallway and made his way into the bedroom. That's where he saw Bucky sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, completely nude. "Bucky?" Steve called out in a soft tone.
The brunet didn't looked up or even make a sound at Steve's voice. He merely stayed in the same dejected pose.
Steve made his way over to the brunet, sinking to his knees as he said, "I know what you need." The smaller man gently pushed away Bucky's arms and took the brunet's member in his mouth.
Slowly, Bucky began carding his calloused fingers through Steve's soft blond hair, watching his lover with intense steel-blue eyes
Steve swirled his tongue around the sensitive tip before moving up to engulf more of Bucky's length. He hollowed his cheeks and made the low humming noise from the back of his throat that he knew the brunet enjoyed.
Mouth dropping open as he began to pant, Bucky slowly tightened his hands in Steve's hair, never taking his eyes from the smaller man between his legs. With a slight groan, Bucky switched to his foreign babbling, a sure indicator of his pending release, his member thickening inside Steve's hot, wet mouth.
The foreign words ringing in Steve's ear only made him suck with more vigor, wanting to do anything he could to help Bucky.
"Stevie, Cariad," Bucky gasped, his hips thrusting upwards, once, twice, a third time, until his swollen manhood spilled his seed into Steve's willing throat. Bucky's clever fingers tangled into the blond tresses, holding tight but not painfully, as his eyes closed in momentary bliss.
Steve swallowed every last drop and made sure to clean Bucky's member before pulling away with an obscene pop.
With a low, almost primal growl, Bucky said "My turn, Stevie," and stood the smaller man on his shaking legs. Hands quick and desperate, Bucky stripped Steve's trousers and drawers before pulling his blond lover onto his lap, his flaccid member pressing up against the underside of Steve's thickening erection and heavy balls. Reaching back, leaning as he did so, Bucky managed to get the lid off the jar of lube they kept on the bedside table. He dipped his fingers into the slick substance, generously coating his digits, before bringing his forefinger to Steve's anus and caressing around the puckered bud. He carefully slid the first finger into Steve's hot passage.
Steve nodded his head desperately. "Yes! Please!" he sobbed, wanting nothing more than to feel Bucky's fingers inside him.
A momentary look of surprise crossed the brunet's pretty face, but he didn't argue with the small blond. Rather, carefully maneuvering his finger around, he eased the passage open enough to slide a second inside, caressing over Steve's prostate as he stroked. He wrapped his other hand around the hot, hard erection bobbing between them, stroking Steve's full length, as the other man enjoyed.
"Buck," Steve breathed, tossing his head back slightly, "I . . . I need more!"
"More?" Bucky asked, but again didn't deny his love. Instead, he scissored his fingers carefully, occasionally stroking Steve's prostate to remind the man of what pleasure Bucky would bring him. Finally, he slid a third finger into Steve's hot and very slick passage. Absently Bucky thought he might have used too much lube, after all: Steve had become so slippery.
The blond let out a loud groan, but he found himself still wanting, no, needing more. "Bucky! Buck . . . I need to feel you." Steve was desperate now, his whole body shook with an erotic need.
Bucky's member responded to the needy whine in Steve's voice, filling and pulsing in equal desire. Understanding just what Steve wanted, though they'd never done that before, Bucky reached back and scooped up a bit more lube and began to coat his own erection. He tapped Steve's hip. "Kneel over me, baby," he cooed.
Doing as he was told, Steve positioned himself so that he was lined up with Bucky's erection. "Please, Buck. Please! I need you!" he groaned.
Grasping Steve's hip firmly in one hand and his own member in his other, Bucky met Steve's vivid blue eyes with his own steel-blue. "You sure about this, Stevie? You want me inside you?"
Holding Bucky's stare, Steve said, "I need you inside me, Buck. I need it."
"Allright, Cariad. Just relax for me, baby." And Bucky guided his member up to Steve's passage, rubbing the tip once, twice, over Steve's hot entrance. He began to ease into the tight, hot opening . . . into Steve, eyes widening at the feel of just his head surrounded by that heavenly sensation.
Hissing a little at the unfamiliar burn as Bucky stretched him, Steve lowered himself down, pushing the brunet's member further inside him. "God . . . Bucky. I need this. I need you." Steve moaned as the burning sensation began to give way to a brand new feeling of pleasure he'd never felt before.
At the sounds Steve made, Bucky frowned, worried he was too large for that tight passage. Bucky settled his other hand on Steve's narrow hip and began to lift the smaller man so he could pull out of Steve's ass.
Steve gripped Bucky's shoulders tightly and made sure to look straight into his eyes. "No, Buck. Please. I need you." The blond ground his hips down, pushing the brunet's member further into his passage.
"You're in pain?" Bucky breathed, worry in his darkening grey-blue eyes, feeling the pulse through his own member still partially buried in the other man's heat.
"No." Steve shook his head wildly, "Keep going. I need this." To help prove his point, Steve pushed back down, embedding Bucky further inside, until the small blond was flush with the tall brunet's lap.
Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve, pulling his small lover's body against his own chest, sealing his mouth over Steve's for a deep kiss of longing. He breathed in the essence of the other man before slowly, carefully pulling out almost halfway then sliding back into that tight passage. He groaned lightly into Steve's mouth and this time pulled further out, until just the head of his shaft stretched the blond's opening. Bucky slid inside, balls deep once more.
Steve arched his back and pushed his chest further into Bucky's. The blond moved his hips to meet the brunet's thrusts. It took only a couple more tries before the pair fell into a rhythm, thrusting together then pulling away, enhancing the pleasure of their love making.
As they continued, Steve's desperation came through with every buck of his hips over his lover's thick member. He rode Bucky like there would be no more tomorrow, his movements falling from rhythm once in awhile.
Steadying his hands on Steve's hips to control the younger man's wilder movements, Bucky guided his lover, making sure to slide over Steve's prostate every couple of thrusts.
The jolt of pleasure that ran up his spine as Bucky slid over his prostate made the blond cry out, "Yes . . . Buck. God, right there!" Steve had to remember to at least try to keep his voice down; they did not want the neighbors to hear. As Bucky continued his assault on Steve's prostate, the blond could feel his balls tighten. "Buck . . . I'm close."
"Me, too, Cariad," Bucky moaned, thrusting up once more, pulling Steve flush with his hot sweat-coated body. Without thinking, Bucky bit down at the juncture of Steve's neck and shoulder, drawing blood and releasing endorphins he never even knew existed.
Feeling Bucky's teeth sink into his shoulder caused Steve to let out a loud groan, and within moments he was cumming. He tightened his muscles around Bucky's member; Steve bit down hard on his arm to stifle the scream that rose up as Bucky came, too, filling Steve's ass with hot jets of thick semen that seemed to last several minutes as the thick member pulsed deep inside him.
Steve placed his forehead against Bucky's and stared into his lover's eyes, completely lost in their depths. His chest heaved against the brunet's but this was the best he'd felt in years.
With a low groan, followed by a soft chuckle, Bucky carefully eased his flagging member from Steve's over slick, dripping passage. "God, Stevie . . . that was . . . damn!" Bucky panted, trying to regain his own breath, keeping an eye on his lover's breathing but not sensing any distress in the smaller man.
"Amazing." Steve muttered, his brain and body still reeling from the pleasure of having Bucky inside him.
Cuddling Steve close, pressing the other man's head gently over his own heart, Bucky sighed. "Gotta talk 'morrow, Stevie," he murmured sleepily.
Steve nodded, he could already feel his eyes drooping shut. "Mhmm . . . tomorrow."
xxx
Setting: AU: Sunday, December 7, 1941: Brooklyn, New York, United States of America
The sun barely broke through the curtains on Sunday morning as Bucky lovingly stroked Steve's yellow hair. He had one arm wrapped securely around the small blond, marveling at the wildness the twenty-three year old had displayed the night before. What had brought on such . . . desperation? Bucky had no idea what had triggered such a sexual passion, but he doubted it would happen again anytime soon; especially as he still had to tell Steve about losing his job on the docks . . . and maybe even the grease fire he'd nearly been caught in.
Steve squirmed a little and stretched his legs as he woke up. His body ached, but it was a good ache. The blond wouldn't mind waking up with that ache every morning for the rest of his life.
Smiling down at the man in his arms, Bucky dropped a kiss to Steve's lips, gentle and soft. "Heya, Stevie," he whispered.
The blond smiled into the gentle kiss and murmured, "Good morning, Buck."
"Ready to face a new day, Cariad," Bucky murmured, using his Welsh nickname for Steve.
Softly, Steve said, "I know we should, but I don't wanna go to church today."
Bucky nodded, agreeing softly, "I want to stay wrapped up with you, Stevie." The brunet kissed his lover again then moved to lick Steve's bite wound, making a distressed sound at the injury he'd caused the smaller, weaker man.
Knowing what upset Bucky, Steve shook his head and pressed a kiss to the brunet's forehead. "I don't care, Buck. It actually felt really good."
"You're kidding?" Bucky felt incredulous at Steve's admission, but he didn't argue too much. Instead he licked the bite wound again, caressing his tongue over the rough, broken skin. "I don't ever wanna hurt you, Stevie."
Steve hummed when a warm, soothing feeling spread throughout his body as Bucky's tongue slid against the mark. "You didn't. I'm serious, Buck. Even ya licking it makes me feel good."
Chuckling, Bucky nuzzled Steve's neck where it joined behind his ear. He caressed a hand down to the blond's abdomen and lightly stroked. "Feeling better today, Steve? You went to the doctor the other day, right?"
The blond felt his blood run cold and he nearly leapt out of the bed. Instead he cleared his throat and nodded, "Uh . . . yeah."
Puzzled at the distress Bucky could sense in the other man, he lay his hand securely over Steve's abdomen and met his eyes. "Steve? You okay?" Suddenly, the brunet shook his head, "Damn, Stevie, I gotta tell you . . ."
Steve knew that he should be honest with Bucky, tell him the truth, that more likely than not, Steve wouldn't make it another year; but he couldn't bring those words to his mouth. They had such a great evening last night, and he didn't want to screw it up. The blond nodded, "I'm fine, Buck. Same as always," Steve lied. "Whatcha got to tell me?"
Sitting up next to Steve on their shared bed, which actually was a bit of a mess from the night before, Bucky rank a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. "I . . . uh . . . got fired yesterday." He looked at Steve, a worried, almost sheepish look in his eyes.
"Fired?" Steve asked, sitting up, "How come?"
"Well, you know Gordie, the boss's boy? He came around on some sort of inspection tour, as he called it. He started throwing his weight around, yelling at us and telling us we were doing everything slow and stupid." Bucky frowned and shook his head, eyes narrowed at the insult to the intelligent man. "He really used those words. Then he threw half a stogie, still lit, into the grease barrel next to me."
"Oh my God!" Steve exclaimed, he quickly looked over Bucky's body again, seeing if there were any injuries he'd missed last night.
Bucky had only some minor red areas and a few scrapes, but he looked pretty healthy for someone who'd nearly been fried alive. "I'm fine, baby," he said, without really thinking about the endearment. "I pushed Gordie outta the way, knowing the thing would blow and take us both with it. So, when they got the fire under control, Gordie convinced his father to fire me for assault and arson." He sighed and shook his head, disgust written across his features. With that on his record, he'd have trouble getting another job.
"What?" The blond nearly shouted. "But you saved his life! He could've killed you!"
With a frustrated nod, Bucky said, "Yeah, maybe I should've just jumped out of the way myself and let the bastard burn."
Steve took a deep breath, trying to get his nerves in check, before laying a comforting hand on the brunet's shoulder. "Don't worry, Buck, you'll find somethin' else . . . maybe you can work on cars again or somethin'."
"Wouldn't I love to?" Bucky smiled softly at Steve. "I actually liked working at the garage. Too bad he had to lay me off to hire his nephew." The brunet leaned closer and slanted his head, pressing his open mouth to Steve's and breathing deeply. "Do you know, you smell great, Steve?"
The blond melted into the kiss and his hand that was on Bucky's shoulder moved up to tangle in his hair. Steve smiled, taking a deep breath of Bucky's own comforting scent. "Ya' don't smell too bad yourself." The blond laughed slightly.
With an answering chuckle, Bucky slipped a hand down between them to caress over Steve's member. "So, if we're bad enough to skip service, what do you wanna do, Cariad?"
"I can only think of one thing that I wanna do right now, Buck." Steve beamed at his lover, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
"Oh?" Bucky laughed, throwing his head back slightly. Meeting Steve's vivid blue gaze, he purred, "I'm all yours, baby . . . do what you will." Bucky kissed him on that bite mark.
Steve groaned in pleasure as Bucky's lips touched the broken skin, "I need you in me again, Buck. Please?"
"Again?" Surprise widened Bucky's eyes. "You sure, Stevie? I'm kind of big, and you're pretty . . . uh . . . tight? I don't wanna hurt you."
The blond rolled his eyes before climbing onto Bucky's lap, grinding his ass down onto the brunet's growing erection. "You didn't hurt me. I need you." Steve leaned over and enclosed his teeth around Bucky's earlobe, tugging slightly.
With a groan, Bucky thrust up slightly to meet Steve's beautiful ass. "God, yes, baby," Bucky purred, his shaft pulsing in response to the pleasure of Steve's teeth on him. "Let me get the lube," he breathed, reaching for the still uncapped jar on the nightstand. Dipping his fingers inside, Bucky smiled and looked at Steve through hooded eyes. "How you wanna do this, Stevie?"
Steve ground his hips down, and tugged at Bucky's ear again, before whispering in a husky voice, "any way you wanna, Buck. I just need you in me, now."
"Yeah, now," Bucky echoed, eyes blowing dark in his sudden desire. He pushed Steve backwards to lay on the bed, reaching down between the smaller man's legs to caress two slick fingers over that still slightly loose entrance. "Ready for this, Cariad?"
"Please," Steve's tone turned to a whine. "Please, Buck." His body began to shake with anticipation.
"Anything for you," Bucky whispered in Steve's ear and slide both fingers into Steve in one smooth motion. Surprisingly, Steve still felt lubricated from last night. That would make it easier Bucky felt, as he stroked in and out of his lover's tight passage, caressing over his prostate every second or third stroke.
Steve moaned loudly and bucked his hips, wanting the brunet's fingers to go further inside him. "I need more. Buck, I need you inside me." The blond breathed, his breathing hitched again when Bucky's talented fingers slid over his prostate.
Nodding, Bucky continued to stroke, scissoring his fingers to stretch Steve wider. "I know, baby, but you need to be looser. Don't wanna hurt you, Cariad." After a couple more strokes, Bucky slid a third finger into Steve and once again began to work them around in the blond's passage. Bucky latched his mouth over Steve's, sharing his very breath. And, slowly, the brunet withdrew his fingers to press the spongy head of his erection against that puckered bud of Steve's entrance. "Ready, baby?"
"God . . . yes! Please, Bucky!" Steve nearly screamed, not being able to wait any longer. He needed Bucky now; he needed to feel his lover inside of him.
With gentle slowness, Bucky slid himself deeper into his lover, carefully caressing that sensitive bundle of nerves as he pushed as far as his thick member could go, his balls slapping Steve's ass as he bottomed out. "God, Steve, so tight . . . so hot . . ."
"Yes . . . Buck. Ya' feel so good. So good inside me," the blond muttered as he arched his back from the pleasurable feeling when the brunet slid against his prostate.
"Ready, Cariad? I'm gonna start . . ." Bucky warned softly, pausing only a moment, before sliding outwards until only his head remained clenched beyond Steve's tight muscle. Then the brunet slid hot and hard into the blond, deeply penetrating the smaller man. He murmured something in another language in Steve's ear.
Steve threw his head back and his mouth fell open as Bucky slammed into him. "Yes! Buck . . . do that again! Please!"
Grinning, Bucky lapped at Steve's wounded shoulder, tasting the clear endorphin-laced serum that had begun to well once more. He again slid almost completely out of Steve's ass then bucked his hips hard, impaling himself fully into the smaller man. "Like . . . that . . . baby?" He panted, doing it again and again.
"God . . . yes!" The blond breathed as his body moved to the motion of Bucky's hard thrusts. "Just like that, Buck."
Whimpering, Bucky continued the hard, fast, deep pace of his thrusts, licking and kissing Steve's neck, occasionally nipping at those rosy lips, then moving to caress his tongue lovingly over one dusky pert nipple. His hand tweaked at the other hardening bud and Bucky began to suckle at Steve, his hips pistoning as hard as he could, meeting Steve's desperate thrusts with his own.
Arching his back again, Steve moaned loudly just as Bucky began his foreign babbling indicating his impending orgasm. The blond knew he was close, too, and he leaned up, wrapping his arms around the brunet. Steve could feel the scream of ecstasy moving its way up his throat, and to keep himself from screaming, the blond opened his mouth and bit down hard on Bucky's shoulder.
Bucky's eyes opened wide as his member seemed to double in size, a large knot of flesh and semen apparently forming just inside the ring of Steve's ass, pushing through Steve's tight channel, until it lodged inside, impossibly large and knotting the pair together, unable to pull apart even if they tried. Bucky moaned and buried his face in Steve's temple, hot jets of cum spurting from his knotted erection, filling Steve and painting his walls in thick white seed.
Feeling Bucky release inside of him, and the tightness from the knot that had been formed, Steve felt his own member throb and spurt cum across their bellies, his body nearly convulsing, locking rigid in ecstasy at the over-full sensations in his hot ass. Steve's heart raced wildly, eyes wide, breath coming in short gasps, grunts, and pants.
Coming down from his high, though still locked deeply in Steve's passage, Bucky heard and felt Steve's body's hyper reaction. Sudden worry pounded through the brunet; he felt afraid that Steve might have a heart attack right there in their bed, and Bucky couldn't pull his member free so he could help the apparently desperate blond. "Stevie?" he whimpered, worry pouring out of every nerve.
"I'm . . . okay." Steve stated in between labored breaths. "That . . . is . . . amazing."
Bucky cupped his face and started planting tender kisses across his mouth, cheeks, eyelids, nose, and wherever else he could reach. He made worried mewling noises for his lover, his eyes fastened on Steve's, blown dark with ecstasy and terror combined. "Stevie? Don't die . . . don't leave me!"
Steve's blue eyes widened and he kissed the brunet gently, "I'm not going anywhere, Buck. I'm not going anywhere you can't follow."
"Good," Bucky growled into Steve's mouth and kissed him fiercely, murmuring something that sounded very much like "mine."
"I'll always be yours, Buck. Always. I love you so much . . . so, so much." Steve mewled, nuzzling into the crook of Bucky's neck.
Blinking, surprised and a little embarrassed that Steve had heard his possessive words, Bucky nodded, unsure how to respond to that. He held Steve against his heart, much as he had the night before, and relaxed as he felt Steve relaxing, their hearts beating in unison for a few seconds. A very long, and very short, twenty minutes passed before Bucky's knot went down and his member seemed to fall from Steve's entrance with a wet pop and a draining of semen and slick. Bucky whimpered at the feeling of leaving his lover's heat.
Steve echoed the brunet's noise of disappointment as the over-full feeling left him. The blond rested his head on Bucky's shoulder. He smiled lazily. "Didn't know we could do that."
Bucky shook his head, laying them back on the bed and brushing Steve's fair hair from his brilliant eyes. "Neither did I."
Steve opened his mouth, but Bucky kissed him and told him, "get some sleep, punk."
"Jerk," Steve murmured, smiling, as he drifted off, Bucky following into sleep.
xxx
Continued in Chapter Twelve: A Full Circle