Chapter Title: Homecoming
Author: Sam
Story: The Omega Trials: 16 of ?
Series: The Omega Rights (part two)
Setting: AU: June 13 - 14, 1943; Camp McCoy, Wisconsin and Brooklyn, New York, United States of America
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Translations:
Cariad - Love - Welsh
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Setting: AU: Sunday, June 13, 1943: Camp McCoy, Wisconsin, United States of America
Folding the heavy peacoat, Bucky settled the winter garment into the bottom of his footlocker. Straightening up, the brunet scooped up the three winter uniforms and placed them on top of the coat, followed quickly by two summer uniforms. All the while, he spoke quietly to his bunkmate, Dum Dum Dugan, the big, burly red-haired street fighter from Boston. "Got anyone waiting at home for you, Dum Dum?"
Dugan smiled brightly as he folded one of his shirts and set it down in his footlocker, Dum Dum turned to look at Bucky, "Yeah . . . my wife, Mary. She was eight months pregnant when I left. I haven't met my son yet . . . though she writes about 'im in all the letters. Can't wait to finally meet 'im."
With a smile, Bucky nodded and placed his training manuals in the second half of his footlocker, on the bottom. "Kids would be nice." He missed Steve terribly and wished things could have been different.
In a quiet tone, to avoid someone overhearing, Dum Dum leaned close and asked, "You and your Cariad thinkin' about adopting?"
A shudder ran down Bucky's back as his father's story came back to him after these ten years. "James and Matthew were killed," he muttered. Suddenly, he straightened and turned to Dum Dum to explain. "When I was fifteen my father told me about his uncle who was killed in Poland . . . for trying to adopt someone." He sighed and ran a hand through his short brunet hair. "But I'd love kids, and Cariad would be great . . ."
Shaking his head softly, Dum Dum muttered, "I wish things were different . . . that people could be who they wanted to be and not have to worry about being hurt because of it."
"Yeah," Bucky sighed. He looked back into his footlocker, adjusting the contents so he could get the rest of his gear inside. Not once did he seem aware of the other men, some very good looking, walking around the barracks half dressed and getting ready to leave, too. In fact, Bucky had never looked at any of the other men in the unit, despite showering with them daily, and when he spoke of his Cariad, love was very evident. He looked at Dum Dum. "Someday, I'd like to meet your Mary and your boy," he smiled softly. "Maybe when we win this thing, I can stop by Boston with Cariad?"
"Peter . . ." Dum Dum said with a smile, "Son's name is Peter. And I'd like that very much. I know your Cariad and my Mary would get along great. Mary has a will as strong as an ox . . . why I fell in love with her. She could knock me on my ass."
"Peter, a Saint's name. A good name. Means strong rock - - or something like that." Bucky laughed and pulled out a sheet of his stationary. He quickly wrote his Mam's address on it and handed the sheet over. "Here's where I'll be after the war, Dum Dum. My Mam lives there. So does my littlest sister, Gracie . . . government says she's retarded, but Cariad says she just takes her own time." He knew Dugan would understand Steve's personality from that claim alone.
Taking the piece of paper and setting it carefully in his footlocker, Dugan then wrote down his own address and held it out to the brunet. "If ya feel like visitin' after the war . . . just write a letter or somethin' before comin'. Mary would kill me if she didn't have time to dust."
Bucky nodded and took the paper, folding and sticking it into his footlocker. He held out his arm to Dum Dum. "And if I see you overseas, I still got your back, Dugan . . . me and my rifle." He grinned as the dull barracks light flashed off the marksman ribbon he'd earned in basics.
Clapping the smaller man on the shoulder and laughing fondly, Dugan nodded, "I'll hold you to that, Barnes. Same goes for me though . . . I'll have your back."
"Okay, maggots, the omnibus is here. Don't leave those horses standing! Get your asses out there and catch your train. Remember . . . as soon as the office is open tomorrow, take your slip to them to get your orders." The Captain nodded to the pair of newly minted Sergeants and strolled down the aisle to yell at a man nowhere near packed.
Once on the train, Bucky found a seat next to Dum Dum, by the window - - he always felt more comfortable by a wall or barrier, despite the glass breaking up the solid structure. The train pulled out at about eight that night, so Bucky would be due in around noon the next day, and Dum Dum even later. Despite his desire to see Steve and his family, as well as the worry he wouldn't fall asleep, Bucky actually did fall asleep on the train.
As Dum Dum fell asleep, he noted that the woman working kept coming back and staring at Bucky, who seemed oblivious to the pretty woman just as much as he had to the nicer looking males in basics. Just by watching the man, one would think Bucky Barnes had no interest in anyone, female or male.
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Setting: AU: Monday, June 14, 1943: Brooklyn, New York, United States of America
As Winifred and her three daughters sat around the table with Steve, the smell of eggs and sausage competed with oatmeal with cinnamon. She smiled as they passed the plates around, the conversation light as the three older women tried to finish their meal in preparation for leaving to work. Gracie, on the other hand, had plans to stay with Mrs. Shelgood the entire day . . . meaning Steve would be on his own, as he often was.
Finally, Winifred looked up and her eyes widened. "Oh! I forgot! Yesterday I got a letter in the post." She got up and ran into her bedroom then came out with a very thick packet, which she opened as soon as she sat down. Out fell a bundle of bills wrapped in paper. She unfolded two other sheets of paper and glanced over them. With a smile, she handed one marked 'Cariad' to Steve. The other she lifted to read aloud.
'Mam, everyone: my train should be in Monday around 1200 noon. I'll have to go to the war office and I'm not sure how long that will take, so I'll come home when I can. Don't come meet me because I might not be available for a time. I've made rank now. I've been made a Sergeant, and that means I'll be in charge of lower enlisted men. It comes with a pay increase, which is great. I've enclosed my week's pay. I hope this helps with the bills and such. I love you all and will see you soon. Love, Jimmy'
With a sigh and a smile, Winifred looked up. "Oh, I wish I could be home when he got here, but we'll all be here tonight. Steve, do you have class today or can you meet Jimmy?"
Becca added "Will you be okay Steve?"
Nodding, anxious to read his letter from Bucky, Steve smiled at both Winifred and Becca, "I'll be fine, Becca. And no, I don't have class today, Mam, so I should be able to meet Bucky."
After a few moments, Steve excused himself from the table and walked into his room so he could read his letter in private. Sitting on the edge of his mattress, the small blond carefully unfolded the paper and began to read.
'Cariad, I miss you more each day. I look forward to holding you again, loving you. When I get home, you have to show me how your art has improved so I can compare it to your last drawing. I'll be home as soon as possible. If they give me my orders, I'll have to stay in uniform, but if I have to wait for the orders, I'll be on leave and allowed to wear some civvies - - civilian clothes, which I intend to switch into as soon as I walk out of the office. I don't want the girls to fuss, so I didn't say how I got the promotion, but you won't act like them, so I'll tell you. A Sergeant is fourth rank of enlisted, and even with the war, to make a three rank leap, a man has to do something pretty heroic. Dum Dum and I didn't do anything out of the ordinary. Heck, you would have probably done something to get an officer promotion, something that usually only college men get. But they seemed to think Dum Dum and I did something someone else wouldn't have, so we both got a big leap. I've told you about Jenkins and how he thinks he should've gotten the Recruit Sergeant spot instead of me. He used to make nice to try to get me to change who I chose, but you know about that. Well, last week, Saturday, he must have decided that he would show his cleverness instead. He's not so clever. He was on the mortar range and didn't use the coordinate guides. Instead he must have guessed at the coordinates for his mortar, and he guessed wrong. The mortar went wide of the mark and hit the rappelling tower. That's where Dum Dum and I were, waiting for our turn behind a group of baby boots. The tower went up in flames and smoke. So, Dum Dum and I helped pull the baby boots out of the mess. Jenkins wound up in the stockade. But this means Dum Dum and I will be put in charge of a unit along with another Sergeant or two. It's lights out, so I'll close, Cariad. I'll be home in a couple of days. Love, your husband, Bucky.'
Steve smiled at the words and read the letter over a few more times before folding it back up and setting it, with his eight other letters, in his father's old footlocker at the end of the bed. The small man knew he did not want to stay in the apartment all day as he waited for his husband to get home; as Steve pulled on his shoes, he decided to go down to the theater to pass the time . . . after another attempt to enlist in the Army.
Frustrated at having failed again to join his husband in the Army, Steve made his way into the darkened theater. He shouldn't have been so surprised he'd been rejected yet again. But the anger welled none-the-less at the injustice of the rejections. Steve, normally honest to a fault, considered actually leaving his medical history off the next attempt. The very idea of lying so drastically, more than just his city of origins, sent a sickening thrill through the small blond. He wondered if he'd be able to pull that off, or if he'd get caught right away since he looked so small.
Once he sat down in the dark room, a newsreel began to play, describing the war and what people could do at home to help the soldiers overseas. Steve looked around and saw that a few people, mostly women, were getting emotional, some were even crying. Suddenly a loud voice boomed over the audio, shouting at the screen to start playing the cartoon.
Scoffing, Steve shifted in his seat. He couldn't believe that the man had no respect for the debt that American soldiers were paying on the battlefield. Men were losing their lives so that the people at home could enjoy their freedom. The blond figured the man would pipe down from all the glares he received from his first outburst, but the man shouted again. Steve looked over at a woman who barely contained her sob as she wiped her eyes with her handkerchief. Temper finally getting the best of him, Steve leaned forward and whispered harshly, "Hey, wanna show some respect?"
The man ignored Steve's voice and called out "No one comes to this place to watch those slobs die! Put on the cartoon already!"
"How about you be quiet and show some respect!" Steve growled, this man disrespected the military and by doing that, disrespected Bucky. The small man would not just sit by and let some ignorant ass disrespect his husband.
At Steve's whisper, the man rose, blocking the screen for many of the viewers. "Yeah? Make me!" He stood in the darkness, looming over Steve's seated height.
Most men would have backed down right then, the other man's height towered over Steve's, and the small blond knew the ass outweighed him by at least a hundred pounds. However, Steve's fury at the injustice of it all clouded his judgement. Here this man stood, disrespecting the men who sacrificed their lives, Bucky soon included, while Steve would never be given the chance to do the same. He'd already tried enlisting five times, using different addresses each time, and every time ended in the same result: the Army telling him that he was too unhealthy to give his life for his country. The blond wanted his death to be meaningful; his cancer diagnosis still lingering in his thoughts, he did not want to waste away in some hospital. So, Steve was not in the mood to listen to some ignorant ass's complaints.
Steve and the other man stormed into the alley behind the theater. Immediately, the blond began to hold up his fists, like Bucky had taught him, ready for a fight.
As soon as the guy got Steve into the alley, he whirled and slammed his fist into Steve's face without warning, without giving him a chance to prepare - - a sucker punch. As Steve scrambled to lift his fists once more, the towering ass punched him again in the left eye.
Scrambling for something to use to help protect himself, Steve quickly picked up a trash can lid and held it in front of him, acting as a makeshift shield.
Ripping the flimsy shield from the smaller man's hands, the bully threw the aluminum aside and growled out, "You just don't know when to give up, ya stupid punk!" He swung again, slamming the left side of Steve's mouth and splitting his bottom lip.
Falling down with the force of the blow, Steve quickly righted himself and shakily raised his fists again. Releasing a deep breath, the blond shook his head, "I can do this all day."
Hearing the familiar voice in the all too common claim, Bucky held back a groan. He'd spent the entire morning in the war office only to come out and find his husband in yet another alley brawl? The brunet had no idea what had started the newest fight, but he didn't doubt Steve would be in over his head . . . again.
With a sneer, the bigger blond used both fists, folded together, in a giant slam to send Steve reeling into the trash cans. He laughed triumphantly at the smaller man. "Stay down, wimp!"
The small man struggled to get to his knees, he couldn't give up. This man had disrespected Bucky!
Storming down the alley, Bucky grabbed the tall man by the shoulder and swung him around, right into Bucky's balled right fist. As the asshole staggered, Bucky lifted his left foot and gave a mighty kick to the ass's rear, sending him staggering down the alley, slamming his head against the wall, then tripping down and out of the alley, finally cowed.
As Bucky turned back to his small husband, he frowned softly at the sight of Steve staggering to his feet. The tall brunet stood there watching, dressed in his uniform, his hat at a rakish angle, his ribbons gleaming new and crisp. With a shake of his head, the soldier said "sometimes I think you like getting punched." It was the first time he had seen Steve in two months, and the smaller guy was bruised and bloody again.
Steve sighed and rose to stand, he raised his hand to touch his eyebrow, hissing in pain as he did so. "I can take care of myself, Buck." Wiping his hands on his jeans, the blond mumbled, "I had him on the ropes." The blond really wished his husband hadn't seen the fight or that Bucky hadn't felt the need to interfere.
Trying to ignore the self-defensive tone, Bucky stooped and scooped up a folded slip of paper that had fallen as Steve stood. Flipping it open, the brunet sighed. "How many times is this? Four? Five?"
Right eye widening, left swelling slightly, Steve didn't say anything. Bucky wasn't supposed to find out about him trying to enlist . . . again.
"Paramus, New Jersey?" Bucky shook his head. "Really? Paramus?" He sounded more offended by the Jersey claim than the fifth attempt to join the war. Folding the paper once more, he looked straight at the smaller blond. "You know it's illegal to lie on your enlistment form, Steve?"
"We promised," Steve grumbled. "We promised to go together."
"I know, Stevie, but I have no choice in this. I got drafted." He sighed, grasped his hat in his thumb and forefinger, lifting it and running the same hand through his short hair. Replacing the hat on his head, Bucky merely said "if you'd been drafted, and not me, Steve, I'd try to get in, too." He looked at Steve, worry in his blue-grey eyes. "I understand. I may not like it, but I understand."
Looking at his lover with troubled eyes, Steve finally glanced over Bucky and saw the uniform rather than civilian clothes he'd expected. Dread washed over him. He knew that meant Bucky had just come from the war office. "You got your orders?"
Drawing in a deep breath then offering a small smile, Bucky nodded, eyes troubled. "The 107th. Sergeant James Barnes, shipping out for England first thing in the morning." He knew that meant they only had the one night together . . . one night to make Steve forget what was happening and to spend time with his husband.
Steve knew he should tell his lover about his diagnosis, that Bucky had a right to know that his husband was sick, but the blond still couldn't seem to form the words. The small man had been somewhat surprised when he didn't have any more serious symptoms than normal, other than the cramps that came every month now. However, he'd been able to alleviate a lot of the pain with Winifred's help. Steve had begun to hope that maybe Johnson had been wrong, that maybe the lumps weren't cancer, that he was going to be fine.
"I should be going," Steve grumbled.
As Steve looked at him, Bucky didn't argue. He suddenly grinned and threw an arm around him in a publicly acceptable 'man hug.' As he hugged the smaller man, Bucky walked him from the alley, tossing away the enlistment rejection slip. "Come on. It's my last night." He pulled his arm away as if Steve was covered in garbage, which technically he was. "Got to get you cleaned up." He pulled a slip of newspaper from his back pocket and began unfolding it as he walked beside Steve.
Fear almost made Steve freeze; he had hoped the Army would allow Bucky at least one full night at home. Cautiously, the blond asked, "Why? Where are we going?"
Handing over the newspaper sheet, Bucky said "the future." He grinned suddenly at his husband. "We got a date with the future." The newspaper headline proclaimed 'World Exposition of Tomorrow, 1943.'
Fortunately they caught a streetcar and soon arrived near Winifred Barnes' home. Bucky let Steve lead him inside. Walking in behind his husband, Bucky securely shut the door and then touched Steve's shoulder. "Hey, Cariad," he whispered.
Turning around slowly, afraid that this was all a dream, that he'd wake up and Bucky would still be gone, Steve smiled softly at his lover, "Hey, Buck." The blond's tone barely rose above a whisper.
Giving Steve a grin, Bucky took off his hat and laid it on the kitchen table. "Need help washing up, Stevie?" he offered on a purr.
Swallowing, Steve nodded frantically, forgetting how to get his voice to work. The small blond stepped closer to his husband, breathing in Bucky's warm, comforting scent. Steve had forgotten how much he missed the brunet's scent, just the smell alone was enough to make the small man want to tear off all of Bucky's clothes and make love for hours.
Bucky took that last step, almost pressed against the smaller man, but keeping far enough away not to ruin his uniform. He place his hands on Steve's shoulders and leaned in, inhaling the sweet scent that was Steve. Gently, he kissed his husband's lips. "God, I missed you, Cariad."
Smiling into the kiss, Steve murmured, "I missed ya too, Buck. Every single day."
"What say you get cleaned up then I show you just how much I missed you?" Bucky kissed Steve's neck.
Keening as Bucky's lips caressed his sensitive scar, Steve could only nod; any words seemed to catch his his throat. The blond pulled himself away and walked into the room he'd moved into after Bucky had left, the brunet's old room.
Slipping out of the uniform jacket, Bucky carefully hung the material over the back of a chair. He unfastened his tie and laid it over the jacket. Taking off his shoes and placing them by the door, Bucky turned toward his childhood bedroom. With a grin, Bucky walked into the room and smiled wider at the sight of his delicate husband. "Gorgeous, Steve," he murmured, beginning to unbutton his uniform shirt.
Steve slipped out of his dirty shirt and his eyes traveled down his husband's body, taking in the lean muscles that the brunet had seemed to acquire while at bootcamp. "You look gorgeous in that uniform, Buck," Steve murmured.
The brunet laughed softly. "Yeah?" He grinned over at the smaller man. "Well, I think I look better out of it, actually," he teased. He unbuckled the belt and pulled it out of the trouser loops, placing it on the desk nearby.
Making a low humming noise of agreement, Steve watched with eager eyes as his lover stripped off his uniform. The blond leaned over, trying to keep his eyes on Bucky, as he took off both of his shoes. The smaller man straightened and unbuckled his belt, slipping it through the loops of his trousers; Steve let it fall to the ground next to his shoes.
As Bucky carefully placed his shirt then trousers on the desk chair, he turned fully to watch his lover strip. "Shall I start your shower, Stevie?" Bucky offered, voice a low purr once more.
"Only if you promise to join me . . . a nice shower must sound good after that long train ride," Steve said back, making sure to look his lover in the eyes.
With another soft chuckle, Bucky drew off his undershorts. "Damn, Stevie, I'll never turn down an offer to shower with you." He knew his manhood already stood semi-erect, but Bucky wasn't ashamed of his obvious desire for his husband.
Steve slid both his trousers and underwear down his slim legs, stepping out of the clothes; the small blond sauntered towards the door leading into the bathroom. Looking over his shoulder, Steve called out in a seductive growl, "Ya comin', Buck?"
"Soon," he assured his lover and followed into the bathroom. Reaching past Steve into the rusty-colored stall, Bucky turned on and adjusted the water, glad to have access to a real shower rather than their nearly barbaric conditions they'd been forced to endure in the apartment. Looking down at Steve, practically flush with the smaller man, Bucky frowned softly at the revealed bruises from his recent fight. "Hurt much?" he asked softly, worry in his grey-blue eyes, studying the blackened and swollen eye and the split lip.
Shaking his head, Steve looked up at his husband, "Can barely feel it, honestly."
"Yeah?" Bucky stepped around Steve, into the shower, then turned to face his husband. He put his hands on the smaller man's boney hips and tugged him forwards, into the cramped stall, needing to practically press up against the smaller man in the tight confines. They wouldn't get much showering or anything else done, but Bucky didn't care. They had all afternoon to clean up. Right then, he was more intent on holding his husband. ""I guess your face is pretty tough after meeting fists all these years, punk," he breathed.
Whimpering as Bucky's erection rubbed against his stomach, Steve leaned forward to gently bite down on his husband's neck, sucking on the sensitive flesh.
A soft growl erupted from the taller man, his shaft pulsing in response. Leaning his head down, cupping Steve's face, Bucky drew him up into an intense, open mouthed kiss, letting his tongue explore, taste his husband.
Groaning into the kiss, Steve tugged on Bucky's bottom lip, pulling slightly as he wrapped his arms around the brunet's neck. The smaller man broke away from the kiss to continue to suck and scrape his teeth teeth along the taller man's collarbone.
Erection throbbing in need, Bucky leaned back against the shower stall wall and fumbled for the washcloth and soap. "Gotta wash you up so we can go to bed, Cariad," he moaned. The brunet began to soap up the cloth, arms held above Steve's head so there was room.
Steve pressed himself closer to Bucky, not detaching his lips from his husband's flesh. The smaller man made sure to grind his body against the brunet's. "I need ya, Buck. I need ya so bad," Steve whimpered as he kissed his lover's chest.
With a deep moan of equal need, Bucky slipped the soap between them and began soaping himself up instead. "You want we should do that here, baby?" he offered.
Keening with desire, Steve lowered his hands, running them down the taller man's chest before he wrapped a fist around Bucky's erection. "Can't wait any longer, Baby," Steve moaned, he ran his thumb over the brunet's slit.
Bucking his hips inadvertently, the taller man groaned again. He nodded. "You want me in front or behind you, Cariad?" Bucky reached behind Steve and began to run the soap over the blond's ass, soaping up his puckered bud.
"Pin me against the wall," Steve groaned, "Show me how much you missed me."
"Can pin you either way, Stevie. Tell me what you want," he slid one finger into Steve's passage, massaging and curling his finger to stretch the opening. After several strokes, Bucky slid his finger over that bundle of nerves that he knew would shoot pleasure through his husband's small body.
Head falling back, and a loud moan escaping his lips, Steve breathed, "Behind. I want ya behind."
Bucky nodded, nipping at the scar he'd made on Steve's neck almost two years before. Carefully, awkwardly, he slid his finger out of Steve and turned his lover around, then soaped him again. The brunet slipped two fingers inside that hot passage, caressing, thrusting, scissoring inside his husband. "So tight, Cariad . . . so hot."
Hips pushing back to push his husband's fingers deeper, Steve moaned at Bucky's words. "I need you, Baby. Please! I need you!"
A soft chuckle escaped, quickly strangled into a groan. "Gotta open you up, Stevie. Don't wanna hurt you." He carefully slid a third finger inside the smaller man, feeling the slick building. Too involved in their love play, Bucky never considered that the soap shouldn't have caused such a slickness in his husband's passage. He just accepted it, like before. "God, you're ready for me, Cariad . . . ready for me inside you . . ."
"Please, Buck. Baby I need you feel you inside me. Please." Steve pushed against the wall in front of him, trying desperately to force Bucky's fingers deeper inside his passage.
Finally, the taller man slipped his fingers from his lover's heat and lined himself up. He bent his knees so he could get in position; Steve was a full eight inches shorter so it was a bit awkward. But, Bucky was nothing if not inventive and he wrapped an arm around Steve and lifted him a little. "Pull your legs up. Put your feet on the walla bit, Stevie," he growled in his lover's ear. Bucky rubbed the spongy head of his shaft against that puckered opening.
Immediately Steve moved to do as he had been told, he lifted his feet so they could rest on the wall in front of him. The blond ground his hips down, desperate to feel his lover inside of him.
"Whoa, whoa, Stevie, I got ya. Let me get your weight balanced or you'll knock us both down." A soft chuckle accompanied the words as Bucky shifted. Finally, he slid his member into Steve's opening, pushing all the way in with one smooth stroke, burying balls deep in Steve's hot ass. "God, I missed this . . . I missed you, Cariad."
"Miss . . . ya . . . too," Steve groaned, head falling back as Bucky filled him, stretching his passage open.
Taking a deep breath, Bucky wrapped one arm firmly around Steve's waist and planted the other hand under Steve's ass. He began to move, thrusting while slightly lifting Steve so together they could create the thrusting, sliding of sex. "Help me out, Baby, use your legs to lift up a bit when i pull back," Bucky advised in Steve's ear, nibbling at his neck. His member felt heavy and thick and Steve's muscles squeezed along the shaft with every movement.
Steve nodded, and began to use his legs as Bucky had suggested. It took a few thrusts to find the rhythm they needed, but soon Steve pushed back against the wall just as Bucky pulled back.
Once they found their pace, Bucky picked up the rhythm, thrusting harder, faster, as he continually filled his lover. Bucky began to move his mouth across Steve's neck, his shoulder, licking, nipping, and kissing. Two months had been rather a long time, and Bucky felt himself getting closer, his orgasm building. Slowly, softly, he began to whisper in a broken mix of foreign words.
Knowing that Bucky was close, Steve clenched his muscles around his lover. "I . . . love . . . you . . . Buck," The blond groaned out in between thrusts.
"Gonna cum, Cariad . . ." Bucky moaned then sank his teeth into the old scar, not enough to cause permanent damage, but enough to break the surface skin. He licked at the wound as he thrust hard once, twice, a third time before he groaned and came. Hot jets of semen painted Steve's walls as Bucky pulsed again and again inside his husband.
Steve leaned his head back, letting it rest on Bucky's shoulder. The feeling of his husband's seed, and his pulsing member inside of him, pushed the small blond over the edge. Hips stuttering, a small moan broke past his lips as Steve's orgasm rushed through his body; thin streaks of cum coated the shower wall.
"Stevie, baby," Bucky breathed into the smaller man's neck, easing from his lover's body. "Damn, I missed you, love," he mumbled, licking the reopened wound once more. "Gotta . . ." he broke off, trying to catch his breath.
Turning around to look at his husband, Steve smiled, his own chest heaving with each deep breath he took, "I miss ya too, baby."
Leaning his forehead down against Steve's Bucky drew a deep breath, enjoying their mingled scents, washing away down the drain all too quickly. "Gotta get cleaned up. We got a date tonight," Bucky purred once more, licking at the uninjured shoulder presented to him.
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Continued in Chapter Seventeen: Expositions