Chapter Title: Expositions
Author: Sam
Story: The Omega Trials: 17 of ?
Series: The Omega Rights (part two)
Setting: AU: June 14 - 15, 1943; Camp McCoy, Wisconsin, Brooklyn, New York, and Manhattan, New York, United States of America
xxx
Translations:
Cariad - Love - Welsh
Gówno - shit - Polish
Eu sunt ejacula - I'm cumming - Romanian
xxx
Setting: AU: Monday, June 14, 1943: Manhattan, New York, United States of America
Once more dressed in his uniform, hat set at a rakish angle, Bucky smiled as he looked over the activity all around them. The Expo seemed alive with science, technology, and trends of the future, and Bucky, with his ever thirsty mind, felt a thrill to be a witness to everything. He hummed low under his breath and glanced down at Steve in his over-sized suit. "What do you wanna do first, Steve?"
Looking up at his lover, Steve smiled, he liked to see Bucky so excited. The blond couldn't understand a lot of the things advertised in the flyer or understand why they were so important, but the brunet had seemed really happy to see everything. "Whatever you want, Buck."
The tall brunet offered another smile to his husband. Of course they could have spent the entire night home together making love and cuddling, which would have been great. But Steve was allowing Bucky some time to expand his horizons before he had to go off to war . . . and the brunet loved the blond for that. "What about the building for 'Housing and Personal Transportation of the Future'?"
"Sure, sounds like fun," Steve grinned, although he had no idea what would be exhibited, but Bucky sounded thrilled, so the smaller man figured whatever would be there would at least be interesting to look at.
Grinning widely, Bucky strode towards the agreed upon pavilion, glancing at Steve's pamphlet as they walked. "Howard Stark to present a flying car?" He nodded. "This I gotta see!"
"A flyin' car?" Steve knew he sounded skeptical. The small blond looked around the large area and his eyes instantly caught on a large recruitment center. Biting his lip, Steve couldn't help but want to try enlisting again.
As Steve looked around, Bucky slipped the pamphlet from the smaller man's hands. "An automatic stove that cooks in less than half an hour? Yeah, that'll be next, ya think?"
After a moment, Steve realised that Bucky had asked him something, whirling to face his husband, the blond offered the brunet a distracted smile, "Huh? Oh! Yeah . . . that sounds good!"
Offering another excited smile to his husband, Bucky led the way to the Howard Stark area so they wouldn't miss the big reveal. They had made it just in time for the dark haired inventor's show, and the car did lift off the ground for a few seconds. Bucky cheered with everyone else as Howard covered for the technical flaws. When Bucky turned to see Steve's reaction, he noticed the smaller man had disappeared.
Using the excitement of the flying car, Steve slipped away from Bucky and headed towards the recruitment area. The small blond stared at a light up mirror that displayed the viewer as a combat soldier, but his head barely cleared the image's chest.
Sighing softly, Steve shook his head and turned to enter the office.
When he tuned, Bucky stood right behind him, frowning softly.
"Oh! Bucky . . . I thought you were lookin' at the car," Steve said, his cheeks reddening with slight embarrassment.
"Yeah," Bucky sighed, "it flew then fell. You really gonna do this whole circus again, Steve?" He waved his hand at the nearby recruiting office.
"It's a fair . . . thought I'd try my luck." Steve shrugged, he knew his husband would never fully understand his reasons for wanting to join the war.
A bit frustrated, Bucky snapped "As who this time? Steve from Ohio? Maybe Pennsylvania?" He put a hand on his husband's thin shoulder and said, voice vibrating in intensity, "they'll catch you this time . . . or worse, take you!"
Doctor Abraham Erskine walked out from the back of the recruitment office to observe the two men talking so intently. He was mildly surprised to recognize Bucky Barnes from Camp McCoy - - so the tiny blond man must be the Sergeant's sickly friend - - a possible Gamma, which Erskine desperately needed for his project. He stepped close enough to eavesdrop.
Bucky shifted his right hand on Steve's shoulder, his wedding ring flashing dully in the light. "Steve, please, this is war . . ."
Releasing a small huff of frustration, Steve looked up at his husband with determined blue eyes, "I know it's a war . . . Bucky. Bucky come on there are men laying down their lives. I got no right to do any less than them. Than you. This isn't just about me . . ."
After a very long pause, Bucky let out a sigh and nodded slowly. "Want me to go in with you?" he asked gently.
Slightly surprised by the offer, Steve cleared his throat and shook his head, "Nah, I can see a doctor on my own, Buck," the blond's tone sounded light, but his face looked worried.
Bucky straightened, accepting the mild rejection to come into an appointment yet again; the brunet gestured without looking back to the pavilion they'd just come from. He lifted Steve's pamphlet he still carried. "I'll go see if Mister Stark will let me get a look at that no-so-flying car he's got back there. You wanna meet me after?"
"Sure, I'll find you after I'm done," Steve smiled; the blond didn't expect to be accepted, so he knew that the office visit wasn't going to take long.
"Well, don't do anything stupid until I get back," the brunet teased with a small smile.
"How can I . . . you're taking all the stupid with you," the smaller man teased back with a chuckle.
Bucky took a breath and let it out slowly. Then, feeling as if he might lose Steve somehow, though he couldn't explain why, Bucky pulled Steve into a fierce hug, whispering fiercely in his ear "you're a punk."
"Jerk," Steve whispered back and returned the hug.
Letting his husband go, Bucky stepped back and flicked off a smart salute with a cocky grin. "Off I go to try to fix Stark's car," he chuckled. Turning, the taller man strode quickly back to the 'Housing and Personal Transportation of the Future' pavilion, literally in search of Howard Stark. He was nothing if not optimistic.
Steve watched his husband leave; a feeling of sadness washed over him when he lost sight of Bucky's tall form in the crowd. Turning on his heel to face the office, Steve took a deep breath and started to head towards the door, but he froze mid step when he noticed a medium sized, elderly man watching him with intent eyes.
Doctor Erskine nodded in greeting and strolled back into the recruitment office, hands sliding into the pockets of his civilian suit.
xxx
Setting: AU: Monday, June 14, 1943: Brooklyn, New York, United States of America
In awe Steve looked around the small room set aside for the physical examination. He'd never made it this far before. The five previous times, the doctor had taken one look at him and his medical history and quickly denied him entry into the Army.
The nurse standing by a small desk looked up. She checked over the small man who walked in and shrugged mentally. She called out "Remove your jacket, shirt, and tie, but leave on your trousers and undershirt. Take off your shoes and socks, too. Sit on the exam bed and the doctor will be right with you." She seemed to think he might be a teenager trying to sneak in, but it certainly wasn't her job to stop him: the doctor would catch him. With those words, the woman left the cubicle so he could have privacy. Just outside the door, her voice could barely be heard, "sixteen if he's a day."
Quickly doing as he had been told, Steve slid off his jacket and unfastened his tie. The small man scowled at the nurse's words but continued to unbutton his shirt. Folding the clothing into a neat pile, and setting them down on the chair next to the bed, Steve hopped onto the bed to start removing his shoes.
"Ready?" a deep voice asked from the other side of the curtain.
After a moment to finish taking his shoes off, Steve answered, "Yes, sir."
The curtain slid back to reveal a medium built black haired man in doctor's coat. He closed the curtain behind him and walked over to Steve. Wrapping a blood pressure cuff around the very thin arm, face impassive, the doctor asked, "when were you born?"
"July 4, 1918," Steve answered quickly.
"So, makes you about twenty-six?" he asked right back.
"Twenty-four, Sir. Twenty-five in a little less than a month," the blond corrected politely.
The doctor looked up sharply, and it became readily apparent that it had been a test . . . and Steve had passed for the moment. "Ever applied for the military before?" he asked next.
Shaking his head, Steve lied, "No. Sir. This is my first time." The small blond didn't like to lie; his mother had raised him to always tell the truth, but Steve needed to be accepted, needed to follow his husband to Europe. He figured Sarah would understand the use of a small white lie.
With a nod the doctor wrote something in the thin chart then placed the stethoscope across the proper pulse point and took Steve's blood pressure. Removing the cuff, he made another note when the nurse came back and whispered something in the doctor's ear. The doctor closed the file and looked at Steve. "Wait here." He headed for the curtain.
Startled by the doctor's sudden retreat, Steve asked, "Is there a problem?"
Turning to glance at Steve, the doctor frowned. "Just wait here," he ordered again and slipped out of the room, leaving the blond sitting on the table under a sign proclaiming 'It is illegal to falsify your enlistment form.'
Turning to look at the sign, Steve released a sigh and bent over to pick up his shoes. Bucky's words repeating over and over again, 'You are going to get caught.' The small blond knew he could be arrested and sent to jail, so he needed to get out of there before the doctor returned.
The curtain slid open wide and a soldier with an armband marked 'MP' walked in and stood at parade rest.
Freezing, Steve watched the soldier with wary eyes. Then the elder man that he'd seen earlier slipped into the room. The small blond swallowed hard; he was being arrested. suddenly he wished they'd never come to this fair, that they'd stayed home and he'd never seen this recruitment office.
Whispering almost silently "Thank you," Doctor Erskine watched the military policeman leave the cubicle, sliding the door curtain shut. Putting down the thin enlistment file, and a very thick, water damaged, partially burnt file, the doctor flipped open the smaller file, marked 'Rogers SJ' and began looking through it.
Finally, the elder man asked, "So you want to go overseas . . . kill some Nazis?"
"Excuse me?" Steve asked, eyes going wide by the blunt questions. Also, the blond was taken aback by the man's German accent; Steve didn't have anything against Germans, it was just that hadn't met another German since Keilmeyer.
Glancing up, the man nodded. "I apologize. I am Doctor Abraham Erskine." He offered his hand to the small blond. "I represent Strategic Scientific Research."
Gripping Erskine's hand and giving it a firm shake, "Steve Rogers," the small blond paused for a moment before asking quietly, "What is Strategic Scientific Research?"
Dropping the man's hand, the doctor looked back in the file. "It is a group who uses scientific results to better the war effort." He looked up at Steve, "at least that is what they tell me. Actually, I am with the program to better the chances for our individual soldiers to survive."
Suddenly remembering where he'd heard the other man's name before, Steve straightened his spine and looked at the doctor with wide eyes, "You're Doctor Erskine!" Then he lowered his voice to avoid being overheard, "You worked with Doctor Keilmeyer, right?"
"Yes," Abraham smiled at Steve. "He and I were good friends and worked on this program together. You were his patient, yes?" The man opened the thick, damaged file and started looking through it.
"Yeah," Steve answered, visibly relaxing, "He helped me a lot . . . real good man. Do . . . do you know if he's alright?"
Adjusting his glasses, Abraham sighed and shook his head. "No, I have not heard anything since he went back to Germany and was arrested." Frowning, the doctor glanced at Steve then back at the files. "He was sent to Dachau Work Camp . . . where my family died."
Steve clenched his jaw and looked down before taking a deep breath, returning his gaze back towards Erskine, "I'm sorry for your loss, Sir."
He nodded. "Thank you, Mister Rogers. So, you are familiar with the beginnings of our work? The Fertility Natures and the goal to prevent birth defects by healing children in the womb?"
Nodding, Steve said, "Yes, Sir. Doctor Keilmeyer explained it to me."
"Well, now we have moved on to incorporate our research to aid in improving our soldiers," Doctor Erskine commented.
"How?" Steve found himself asking before he could stop himself. "How would fertility medicine help our soldiers?"
"Well, Mister Rogers, as you know there are three certain Fertility Natures. The Alpha is the dominant, leader and fighter. The Beta is the follower, they fill the ranks. And the Omega is what most in this field call the Breeder. There is, however, a fourth designation: the Gamma. You know this term, yes?' He met the blond's vivid blue eyes.
Steve nodded, but didn't say anything, and waited for Doctor Erskine to continue.
"Well, there are two theories for Gamma Natures. Many of my colleagues believe they are incurable, a separate nature completely. However, I and a few of my colleagues believe that Gammas are actually one of the other three Natures but sterile. The lack of hormones has stunted them and, if we can give them a massive boost of the missing hormones, if we can reverse the sterility, we can eliminate the Gamma Nature completely." Abraham looked intently at Steve for his reaction. "I have currently tested two groups of soldiers and found only one Gamma for this program."
"Really? Ya think we can be cured?" Steve furrowed his brow, "But, Doctor, I still don't see how that could help our soldiers overseas?"
He shook his head in response and the doctor leaned closer. "Not the soldiers overseas already, Mister Rogers, but those to be sent over. Your friend, Mister Barnes, almost made the program. He was slotted by the military to be used. However, as he is not a Gamma, I refused him."
"You've met Bucky?" Steve asked, a small smile forming at just the mention of his husband's name.
Looking down at the thin file, Doctor Erskine smiled as well. "Yes and I liked him very much. He mentioned he had a friend who could probably fight circles around any other soldier, but with his weak body, he is not permitted." Abraham looked up, "and this angers him."
Steve couldn't help the blush that worked his way up his neck and into his cheeks; the small blond didn't realize that his husband had been talking about him while he'd been in boot camp. "Really? He said that?"
"Well," Abraham waved his hand in the air in a rocking motion, "not verbatim, but that is his meaning. He also mentioned this friend was a patient of my friend, so . . ." Abraham touched the thick file. "I had the record pulled. And you were his only true Gamma patient." He nodded, finger trailing down the list of symptoms and medical history. "And Mister Barnes was correct. The military, this military, would not permit someone with breathing or heart problems to fight." He glanced up at Steve.
Looking down at his lap, Steve shrugged, he knew where this was heading. He'd get denied again and he would never be able to follow his husband to Europe; he'd never be able to fight for his country, just because of his health.
" Doctor Johnson also notated in your file . . ." Doctor Erskine started.
"Wait!" Steve exclaimed, head snapping back up, "Doctor Johnson said he burned that file! I don't want 'im to get in trouble!"
Doctor Erskine sighed and shook his head. "He missed this one, actually, though it was damaged. However, I did receive a copy from the Strategic Scientific Research division when I arrived. They have copies of all of Doctor Keilmeyer's work, after all, and subsequently Doctor Johnson's."
"But Doctor Johnson won't get hurt, will he?" Steve could remember the fear in Johnson's eyes as he'd been burning the files.
"Why would we hurt one of our research scientists? He joined the Research division shortly after the attack on Hawaii," Abraham assured Steve.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Steve relaxed again, happy to hear that Johnson was safe.
"As I said," the doctor looked back at the thick file, "Christopher Johnson also notated your file when he assumed your care? In here he mentions that you were diagnosed with cancer? And this is not on your enlistment form . . ."
Shifting in his seat, Steve nervously began to pick at the few strands that hung from his undershirt. "I . . . I uh . . . forgot?" The blond winced at the lie. He hadn't forgot, but he knew if he listed cancer under the medical conditions he'd never get in; asthma already made his chances slim.
"You forgot how many times? Five . . . six?" He turned to the other file and flipped it open. "It must have been all this traveling you've been doing."
"You must have the wrong file, Sir. I've only tried to enlist just this once," Steve stated quickly, hoping that the nice doctor wouldn't report him and have him arrested.
"Oh, it's not the exams I'm interested in. It's the five tries." Doctor Erskine closed the file and looked up at Steve. "But you didn't answer my question. Do you want to kill Nazis?"
Looking back at the sign behind him, Steve turned to look at Doctor Erskine, "Is this a test?"
The doctor blinked behind his glasses and looked thoughtful then said, "yes."
Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, Steve's eyes hardened with determination. The small man said in a strong voice, "I don't want to kill anyone. I don't like bullies. I don't care where they're from."
Nodding, Erskine closed the medical file then the thinner military file. He picked both up. "Well there are already so many big men fighting this war. Maybe what we need now is a little guy, huh? A Gamma, perhaps?"
Steve's heart jumped and he looked up at the gentle man with hopeful eyes. He couldn't believe it. Was Doctor Erskine actually insinuating that he was going to allow Steve entry into the army?
"I can offer you a chance," the doctor opened the cubicle curtain and walked out; Steve followed. "Only a chance."
"I'll take it . . . it's all I've ever asked for," Steve said, his heart felt like it could burst out of his chest at any moment.
Nodding, Erskine replied "good." He began to check the stamps on the desk. "So where is the little guy from . . . actually?" he stamped the smaller file.
"Brooklyn." Steve smiled.
The man handed the thin file to Steve but kept the thicker, damaged one. "Congratulations, Soldier." As he turned away, he paused, "oh, and Doctor Johnson was incorrect, Mister Rogers. It wasn't cancer he found. Good evening," the quiet German disappeared down the hall.
Momentarily dazed by the statement, the small man froze. He didn't have cancer? These past two years, he'd been constantly worried about his diagnosis, how he would tell Bucky. But now, he would never have to worry about telling his husband about the cancer diagnosis!
Steve opened the file as the doctor left. It was stamped '1A.' He drew a breath and let it out then looked where Erskine left to. He had been accepted without continuing the physical or drawing blood! He had been accepted to the Army because of that man . . . Doctor Abraham Erskine.
A soldier walked over to Steve and asked "Rogers?"
Straightening his spine again, Steve nodded firmly, "Yes, Sir."
"Down this hall to the bursar's office. You'll receive a week's advance pay to give your family and your assignment for basic training." The soldier looked over Steve and sighed then gestured where to go.
Everything seemed so surreal. He'd been accepted! Steve Rogers had been accepted into the United States Army! As he walked down the hall to receive his orders and pay, he couldn't help the smile that plastered itself on his face. After five tries, he'd finally been given a chance, and honestly that had been all he'd ever asked for.
Walking up to the bursar's office, Steve handed over his paper to the young woman who sat behind the desk. After a few moments the woman handed over his orders with a surprised look on her face. The small man grabbed the paper and looked down at where he'd be going for boot camp: Camp Lehigh, New Jersey. Steve let out a small laugh; wait until Bucky heard about him being stationed in New Jersey.
That thought made Steve stop and the smile melt off his face. He had no idea how Bucky would feel about him being accepted into the Army. Would the brunet be mad? Disappointed? Proud? Steve shook his head, knowing that his husband had never wanted the smaller man to get in; he'd always tried to support his lover but Bucky never thought he'd actually be accepted.
Stuffing his orders, the travel information to get to Camp Leigh, and the week's advance pay into his jacket pocket, Steve figured he'd tell Bucky about it later. Maybe he'd write his husband a letter after he left? Steve didn't want to ruin the brunet's last night at home.
Outside the enlistment office the Expo carried on in full swing; however, Bucky sat on a bench near the door, waiting patiently as he ever had for Steve. He glanced up and smiled, tilting his hat a bit, studying his husband for the tell-a-tale disappointment the small man always harbored after being rejected. "Must be busy . . .you were in there for some time, Steve."
Shrugging his shoulders, Steve nodded, "Yeah, it was a madhouse. Lot's of people tryin' to get in." The small blond hated keeping something this important from his husband, but he tried to convince himself it was for the best.
"Well, I had enough time to meet Stark," Bucky grinned.
"You did?" Steve smiled at the joy on Bucky's face, "How was it?"
The brunet nodded and stood, beginning to walk. "He's insane and brilliant and very sociable." Bucky laughed. "I think I like him."
Steve grinned, "Well I'm glad ya actually got to meet him. I didn't think you would."
Laughing, throwing his head back, Bucky nodded "Yeah, nearly didn't get in, actually, but I mentioned that I thought his magnet thrusts were a bit low and he stopped working on the car to come talk to me." The brunet winked at Steve, guiding him from the causeway and towards home.
"You gave Howard Stark advice on his invention?" Steve laughed and shook his head, "Did he seem to like what ya had to say?"
"Not sure if he liked it, but he listened." Bucky laughed again. "He seemed more distracted by the military guys coming in and out the back of his area, though, so we didn't get to talk long. He promised we'd catch up some time after the war."
"Wow . . . the infamous Howard Stark's gonna invite you over for lunch?" Steve smiled up at his husband and stepped in closer, however still far away enough to be socially acceptable.
Bucky winked. "If I'm lucky, he might even hire me on as a grease monkey." The taller man threw his arm companionably over his husband's shoulders. "Almost home," he whispered.
"Then I'll give you something to remember me by, Sergeant Barnes," Steve whispered back, letting his breath linger on his lover's neck for a second.
"Oh, I look forward to every second, Steve Barnes." Bucky smiled down at his husband and opened the front hall door of his mother's tenement. He leaned close, as if whispering or checking Steve's face, then let his breath puff over Steve's mouth. "Inside, Cariad," he murmured.
Steve nodded, nearly moaning from the warm breath on his lips. The small blond stepped inside the building.
Following his lover eagerly, Bucky let Steve lead him up to the third floor and into the Barnes' apartment. Fortunately, Winifred and the girls were at the Expo and weren't due back for a bit. Bucky slipped his shoes off and placed his hat and jacket at the kitchen table. He winked at Steve and headed for their bedroom, undoing his tie as he walked.
The small blond followed his husband, completely forgetting about the fact that he'd been accepted into the Army, the only thing on his mind being his lover. Slipping off his jacket and hanging it on the rack by the door, Steve began to unbutton his shirt as he walked down the hallway.
In the bedroom, Bucky slipped the tie to the desk and undid his shirt, back towards the door as he worked the buttons of his uniform shirt. He softly called, "Stevie, I was wondering if you wanted to try something a bit different tonight?"
Walking into the bedroom and taking a moment to appreciate his husband's lean, fit form before answering, Steve quirked a brow, and as he slipped his dress shirt off his shoulders he asked, "Different? How so?"
Turning, shirt open to the waist, pants and belt still fastened, Bucky smiled and put his hands on Steve's hips. "Well, always I've noticed you absolutely beg to be . . ." the brunet suddenly flushed and took a breath. "Well, to have me inside . . . I wondered how it feels?"
Steve's eyes widened and he felt his growing erection twitch at the mere prospect of what Bucky was suggesting. "You . . . you mean that you want me? You want me . . . inside you?"
Bucky nodded. "I don't know if I'll like it, Stevie, but I don't mind those times you use your finger in me . . . and you seem to really like it." He hesitated. "Is this okay?"
"Well, yeah! I'm . . ." Steve flushed and he rubbed the back of his neck, "I mean . . . I don't know how good I'll be at it. I've never done it before."
"We'll take it slow," Bucky assured him. "It's not as if I knew what I was doing, either. We've always learned together, Stevie . . . from our first kiss." The taller man pulled his shirt from his trousers and slipped it off, hanging it on the chair. He reached to undo his belt. "I love being inside you, Stevie. I think you'll like it, too."
Steve wrapped his arms around his lover's neck and crashed his lips against Bucky's, running his tongue along the seam, biting down gently at the bottom lip. The smaller man pulled away to run his tongue over the faint scar on the brunet's neck before gently biting down on the raised flesh.
Letting out a low groan, Bucky captured Steve's hands and raised them, kissing each fingertip one by one. "God, Stevie, What you do to me." His erection pressed against his uniform trousers uncomfortably. "You drive me mad." He slipped Steve's right forefinger into his mouth and started nipping and sucking the digit.
Growling, Steve said, "You have too many clothes on, Sergeant." He pulled his finger away and looked at his husband, his eyes trailing down Bucky's body.
Bucky moaned softly, his member pulsing at Steve's commanding tone. Dropping Steve's hands, the brunet finished pulling off his belt and tossed it to the desk. He unfastened his trousers and slid out of them so he could neatly place them on the chair. "And you're too dressed, Captain," Bucky murmured, referencing their private comic book joke from two years before.
Pulling his undershirt free from his trousers, Steve quickly pulled it off and threw it away, not sure where it landed. "On the bed, baby," the blond cooed, trying desperately to push away the nervousness he felt at reversing their roles; what if he couldn't pleasure Bucky like the brunet did to him?
Nodding, Bucky stepped backward and sank onto the bed. He pulled off his socks then his undershirt, remaining in his boxers as he watched Steve, the bulge in his shorts very evident. "Yes, sir," he murmured.
Kicking off his shoes and pulling off his socks, Steve began to walk closer to the bed, undoing his belt as he did so. When he reached his lover, the blond ran his fingers through his husband's hair, tugging slightly, "I love you," Steve growled, his mouth a breath away from Bucky's.
Bucky smiled and his body jerked slightly as his head tugged from Steve's action. "As much as I love you, Cariad?" he breathed, reaching for Steve's hips.
"Greedy . . . ain't ya, Sarge?" Steve muttered and pulled away just out of Bucky's reach. The blond pushed his trousers down his legs and stepped out of them. "You know how much I've been dying to get ya outta that uniform?"
"No, sir, How much?" Bucky asked, still smiling but changing his tone to one of obedience, like the good enlisted man talking to his officer.
"All night I've been watching ya . . . imagining the things I wanted to do." Steve drawled, stepping forward so he could run the back of his hand down the side of his lover's face. "I had to deal with all them dames watchin' ya . . . wishing they could be the one you took home. Ya know how crazy that made me?"
Never having played at a bedroom fantasy, but having heard about them from Dum Dum, Bucky was intrigued with Steve's new play. He tried to stay in character and not grab his husband. "Sir, I'll do whatever you want, sir. I wouldn't bring a dame back to the barracks."
"I know you wouldn't . . . because you're good. You're mine." Steve growled low, tugging Bucky's hair, gently, again.
A small moan escaped Bucky at the tug. He let his eyes half close as he questioned, "your's, sir? What do you mean? What can I do, sir?" Then he grinned wider. "Steve? Am I supposed to be contrite or teasing here? Not sure." He opened his eyes.
Steve smiled and kissed his lover again, not answering the question, because honestly he didn't know the answer. This was new to both of them, neither having any experience in this sort of thing. Pushing Bucky back slightly so that he could straddle the brunet's lean hips, he continued to kiss the taller man.
Returning the kisses, Bucky decided just to wing it still. He reached up and ran his hands through Steve's hair, thrusting his still clothed pelvis up slightly. Pulling his mouth back a bit, Bucky breathed, "Cap, what can I do to prove I wouldn't break the rules? That I'll do whatever you order?"
Steve shifted so that his mouth hovered over his lover's erect nipple, "You can make those pretty noises I like so much." Then the blond bit down on the sensitive flesh, tugging slightly.
Gasping, Bucky's hips thrust upwards and he moaned, head falling back against the mattress, eyes half closing in reaction. "God, Cariad . . ."
Smiling against Bucky's skin, Steve flicked his tongue over the bud; the blond ran his hand down the brunet's chest. The smaller man stopped when he felt his lover's erection and began to palm it through the fabric of the taller man's boxers. "So pretty," Steve murmured, "Such a good boy."
Bucky slid his eyes back open and he grinned at Steve, finally grasping the smaller man's shoulders. "I can be a very good boy, Cap." He bucked his hips up into Steve's mouth. "Just say the words . . . sir." He stroked a hand over Steve's hair.
"I'll say 'em when I'm ready, Sergeant." Steve growled and shifted again so that he could run his tongue against the groves of Bucky's toned stomach. The blond stopped at the hem of the brunet's boxers and looked up at Bucky with eyes darkened with desire. He clamped his teeth around the fabric and began to pull them down Bucky's long legs.
Panting in combined anticipation and need, Bucky lifted his head, meeting Steve's intense gaze. He watched the blond removing his underpants in that feral way and felt his member get larger, harder, aching slightly in need. "God, Cariad," he whispered, "the things you do to me!" As Steve exposed his long, thickening shaft, small beads of precum welled at the head.
"Ya turn on your side for me, baby?" Steve asked as he removed his own underwear, his erection springing out of the confining fabric.
"No problem," Bucky panted and shifted, wriggling under his lover to obediently get on his side. "Whatever you want, Cariad," he promised.
Steve took a deep breath and reached over to grab the jar of lubricant from the drawer of the nightstand. Opening it, the blond ran his hand across his husband's thigh; with his other hand he scooped a generous amount onto his finger. "You tell me if it hurts too much?" Steve asked, his stomach flipping with both nervousness and need.
Smiling at his husband, Bucky shifted again so he could lift one leg high, exposing himself to Steve. "Just go slow, yeah?" he murmured, watching Steve's eyes.
Swallowing, Steve nodded and circled his finger around Bucky's entrance, caressing the puckered skin.
His body instantly reacted, fluttering and clenching slightly, but Bucky concentrated on relaxing his passage for his lover's touch. They'd done this part before, just never gone past one finger for Bucky. "More lube, Baby? It's been awhile since we've done this . . ." he had been away for a couple months after all.
Nodding, Steve moved to scoop up more lube. With a deep breath, the small blond carefully began to insert his finger. Steve leaned over to capture his lover in a passionate kiss, trying to push away his nerves; the last thing he wanted to do was hurt his husband right before he shipped off for war.
Bucky returned the kiss as he felt Steve slid a finger into his ass. He moaned softly into the sweet mouth. "Missed you, Cariad, so much," he breathed and let his body relax around the finger. He reached down his other hand to stroke himself a couple of times then let his member go again. "Ready . . ." he breathed.
Steve pushed his finger in deeper, past the first knuckle and waited for a moment, allowing Bucky to get used to the feeling. "Missed you too, Buck," Steve groaned and then continued to, slowly, slide his finger inside his lover's passage. When he was able to insert his finger to the second knuckle, Steve curled it, trying to find the bundle of nerves that he knew would make his husband feel good.
At the sudden intense sweep of pleasure as Steve caressed over his prostate, Bucky moaned and jerked, his member throbbing and leaking a bit more. "Yes, right there, Stevie . . . that's it . . ." He panted slightly.
The smaller man smiled as an idea came into his mind. "Mind if I try something, love?" the blond asked.
Nodding, "Bucky panted, "Anything, Baby . . . go ahead."
Shifting again so he could still massage his lover's prostate but so that his mouth hovered over Bucky's entrance, Steve slowly ran his tongue over the tight ring of muscle.
At the unusual sensation, Bucky whimpered, his hips jerking again. "Gówno, Steve!"
"You like that, baby?" Steve murmured, pulling away.
"God, yes," he moaned. "Damn . . ." Bucky turned his head, pupils blown wide, to study his husband.
Steve smiled and leaned down again to continue his assault on Bucky's entrance. The blond darted his tongue past the tight ring of muscle, his index finger still caressing the brunet's prostate.
Losing himself in the sensation, Bucky let his head drop to the side once more, licking his lips and reaching between his legs to brace his left hand on his thigh but not touch his member. He turned his face to bury in the pillow and merely breathed, his body clenching and quivering around Steve's finger and tongue. "Damn . . ." he said softly.
Slowly, Steve began to push in a second finger, stopping just as the tip rested against the slick entrance. "You okay, Buck?" Steve asked, looking up at his lover.
Bucky nodded once, pressing his lips together, waiting for the small burn to ease. He moved his hand from his thigh to his shaft and gave a couple of long strokes then let himself go again. "Yeah, slow . . ." he assured his lover.
Giving his husband a concerned glance, Steve resumed licking and sucking at Bucky's entrance, receiving gasps of pleasure and more breathless swearing from his husband. Very carefully the blond pushed the second digit further inside the brunet's passage. The smaller man stopped once he passed the first knuckle, giving his lover time to adjust.
It took a little longer than the first finger but finally Bucky nodded briefly. "Okay, Steve, ready." He drew a steadying breath and let it out slowly, forcing himself to relax around Steve's two fingers.
Pushing his fingers deeper inside his lover's passage, careful to stroke Bucky's prostate, Steve began to scissor his fingers. Pulling away slightly so that he could look at his husband, the blond asked, "This okay, Buck?"
His eyes closed now, Bucky concentrated on breathing as Steve worked his passage. He felt over full and the burn still hummed low through his ass. Slowly, he opened his eyes and whispered, "I . . . I don't . . . I don't know, Baby." He breathed a couple more times.
"Need me to stop?" Steve asked, "We can go back to you inside me . . . I don't mind."
"Damn," Bucky groaned but nodded. "Yeah . . . this isn't real comfortable, actually. Burns . . . feels too much."
Quickly withdrawing his fingers, Steve sat up, "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to hurt ya."
Bucky gasped at the sudden release of the pressure and felt himself relax against the mattress. He closed his eyes and swore under his breath. Shaking his head, Bucky opened troubled eyes. "I really can't understand how that feels good for you, Steve . . . I mean, I thought I could maybe get used to it, but it . . ." he stopped and drew in a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Cariad."
Steve shook his head and tugged on his husband's shoulder so that the brunet lay flat against the mattress. Gracefully, the small blond straddled his lover's hips and ground down against Bucky's erection dragging a pleasurable moan from deep in the brunet's belly. "Nothing to be sorry about, Buck. I like ya inside me. Please . . . I need to feel you."
Bucky lifted his head from the pillow, eyes widening. "I don't see how you can like it, Stevie." But he reached for the lube obediently. "You're not just letting me because you think I want it or anything? I don't want you playing sacrificial lamb or anything." He ground his hips upward, meeting Steve's heavy flesh with his own.
Growling, Steve could feel slickness between his thighs, and his body yearned for something to fill it. "Buck . . . I swear to God if you don't make love to me right now . . ." The small blond whimpered when his lover's member rubbed against his entrance.
"Okay, Cariad, okay. Let me prepare you." He reached down and began to lube himself up then reached for Steve's hole, running his slicked fingers over the puckered entrance.
"No." Steve growled, eyes darkening, "I need you now."
"I don't wanna hurt you . . ." Bucky pulled his hand away from Steve's ass to caress over the blond's member.
Groaning loud, Steve reached down between Bucky's legs to grasp the taller man's member. Quickly, the blond maneuvered the brunet's erection so that the head pushed against his entrance. In one fluid motion, Steve sank down on to his husband.
"Gówno, Steve!" Bucky's eyes widened and he growled low in his throat. The sudden tight heat all but drove him over the edge and he had to clamp both hands on Steve's hips to keep them still, trying to regain himself before he simply exploded right there.
It only took a few moments for Steve to get accustomed to Bucky's length; the blond began to grind his hips again. "Oh . . . Buck." The blond whimpered, his head falling back and eyes closing as pleasure coursed through his body.
"Cariad, Eu sunt ejacula," he bit into Steve's neck, his member throbbing as his knot formed, locking Steve to him. Hot jets of cum burst up into Steve, wave after long wave, as if it would never end.
Feeling the knot form inside his passage, Steve's balls tightened and he came hard. Thin strips of cum plastered against their chests. The small man bit down hard on his forearm to muffle the scream that broke past his lips.
For over a minute Bucky continued to fill his husband's passage with seed. Finally, panting hard, the brunet was spent, though his knot stayed firmly locked in Steve. He reached over and began to pet Steve's boney back with trembling, gentle hands. "Stevie, Cariad . . ."
"Bucky . . . Bucky . . ." Steve mumbled, his eyes still closed as he rocked against the brunet's hips.
This time the knot didn't release for almost thirty minutes. Finally, it eased down and popped from Steve's passage, spilling seed from Steve and dragging slick with it. Bucky whimpered at the feeling and held Steve close against his body, lapping over the freshly re-opened bite mark on his lover's neck. "God, I love you, Stevie," he whispered.
"Love . . . you . . . too," Steve whispered between labored breathing.
Opening his eyes and lifting his mouth from the blond's neck, Bucky frowned. "Your heart is racing . . . need help breathing, baby?"
Steve shook his head, "Just . . . gimme . . . a second." The blond took several deep, shaky breaths before his heart finally slowed down and his breathing evened out. The blond opened his eyes and smiled down at his husband. "See? I'm fine."
"If you say so," Bucky continued to frown, searching his husband's face for something unspoken. He let his hands trail down Steve's back to caress over his buttocks.
"Baby . . . I'm fine! More than fine . . . that was amazing. Please stop worrying for one second and kiss me." Steve smiled.
"You didn't let me prepare you . . . Steve, you could have torn." Bucky lifted one hand to stroke Steve's cheek.
Steve rolled his eyes and got off of Bucky's lap. "Ya know . . . I ain't made of glass, Buck. Please stop treatin' me like I'm gonna break." The blond crossed his arms over his chest and let out a breath of frustration.
Pushing up onto his forearms, Bucky shook his head. "No, Steve, I wanna talk about this. I don't understand. Really, I don't. I didn't get to use even a quarter of the amount of lube you used on me, and I couldn't even handle two fingers . . . granted you have large bozo hands, but still . . . mine aren't too much smaller than your's."
"You didn't hurt me . . . I wouldn't have done it if I didn't think I could handle it." Steve rolled his eyes again, beyond frustrated that Bucky wouldn't just trust him for once to know how much his body could handle . . . it was his own body!
Bucky finally nodded and flopped back on the bed, flinging an arm over his eyes and sighing. "Okay, I get it. You're invincible."
"I didn't say that! Look . . . ya gotta trust me to know how much I can handle, that's all," Steve grumbled, arms still crossed in front of his bony chest.
"Lifting his arm, staring at Steve incredulously, Bucky shook his head. "I'm not questioning how much you can or can't take, Steve! I'm wondering why I can't take it, too." He lowered the arm onto his eyes again with a frustrated huff of air. Mumbling through his arm, he complained, 'God, I feel like a pansy or something."
"It took us years to work up to what I'm comfortable with, Buck!" Steve said, uncrossing his arms. "Look . . . I don't know why . . . but . . ."
Suddenly, interrupting Steve's words, Bucky sat and lowered his arm, looking like he'd had an epiphone. "My god, it's all those exams, isn't it? You've been handled since we were kids . . . no wonder you're able to take it."
Steve shook his head and couldn't help but roll his eyes again. "I'm gonna get some water or something . . ." The small man swung his legs off the bed and started pulling on his discarded boxers, followed by his trousers.
"Are you mad at me?" Bucky called after him.
Shaking his head, Steve answered, "Nah . . . I ain't mad, Buck. I'm thirsty . . . want anything?"
Thinking for a moment, Bucky nodded. "You." But he slid out of bed with a smile, apparently happier now that he thought he found the solution to his dilemma. He slid into his boxers and reached into the closet for his robe, not wanted to get semen and lube all over his uniform. "Buy a soldier a drink, love?" He grinned.
Steve snorted, "Dress to impress?"
"Hah, I would if I wasn't covered in you, baby doll." He stepped to the door and froze when the outer door opened and several female voices sounded. "God, and we stink of sex," he murmured.
Suddenly, Steve looked up at his husband and a wave of sadness washed over him. "I'm gonna miss you, Buck. I . . . I don't know what I'm gonna do."
"Shit," Bucky said and pulled Steve in tight against his chest, burying his face in the smaller man's hair. "Don't, Stevie . . . don't cry . . . the war won't last forever. I'll be home before ya know it."
Biting his lip hard, Steve couldn't stop the burning of tears. He wanted to tell his husband about how he'd been accepted into the Army, that the chance of both of them coming home now was slim to none. That this would most likely be the last time they saw each other. However, the words died on Steve's tongue.
A knock on the door, followed by Becca's voice, sounded. "Hey, you guys awake? We're home."
xxx
Setting: AU: Tuesday, June 15, 1943: Brooklyn, New York, United States of America
Stepping into the room, dressed in his robe and a towel around his shoulders, hair still dripping from his shower, Bucky headed over to his bag and began to check he had all his gear. Gracie had wanted to see everything he'd been issued, and then it had been so late Bucky hadn't wanted to pack it all back up that night. Thus, he had to finish packing that morning. Since he was safe in his room, he let the robe hang open, lifting one end of the towel to rub at his rapidly drying, slightly curling hair. With the woman gone on early morning appointments yet again, Bucky had the house almost to himself in order to get ready.
Steve watched silently from where he sat on the bed. The blond urged himself to not cry, not to make this departure any harder than it already was. The smaller man had decided he wasn't going to tell his lover about the Army; he'd write him later or maybe even surprise him by being put in 107th.
"Steve, you coming to the station to see me off?" Unlike last time, Bucky rather wanted that last glimpse of his husband, even if they couldn't display their emotions in front of everyone.
Snapping his attention towards Bucky, Steve frowned; he couldn't go to the station with his husband. If he did, then he'd miss his own ride to Camp Lehigh. Swallowing hard, Steve shook his head, "Uh . . . I think it's best that I don't."
Straightening, Bucky looked over at his lover then sighed. He nodded slowly. "Yeah, right, of course. We can't kiss or anything at the station, right?" He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
Steve hated the pained look in his lover's eyes, and he hated himself for lying to him, "Yeah . . . I'm sorry, Bucky."
Nodding, Bucky tucked the last item in his back and clasped it shut. He dropped the robe and towel and began sliding into his boxers and undershirt. "I'll write every week if I can, Steve. You didn't mind that I never used your name, did you?" He looked over. "They read our mail sometimes."
Heart beating fast, Steve realized that his letters wouldn't reach him at Camp Lehigh; he'd have to ask Winifred to forward the letters. "No . . . I don't mind, Buck."
Suddenly, Bucky chuckled. "You know, all these years and you never once asked me what Cariad means." He grinned suddenly, trying to add humor to this heartbreaking departure.
Smiling slightly, Steve looked at Bucky, "What's it mean?"
"Love," Bucky breathed and walked over. He placed his hands on Steve's hips and pulled him in for a kiss, still only dressed in his underclothes. "It's Welsh for Love."
"You called me that way before we ever got together . . . back when we were still practicing," Steve mumbled, taking in Bucky's scent, trying to breathe in as much as he could.
Nuzzling suddenly at Steve's neck, Bucky whispered, "Yeah, I know. We were maybe fourteen or fifteen." He lifted his face and sighed. Stepping back, Bucky drew on his shirt and began buttoning it.
"Did you know?" Steve asked, his voice barely loud enough to be heard. "Did you know when you called me that?"
"I knew what it meant," the brunet teased lightly, offering Steve a cheeky grin. He looked back down as he finished his buttons then grabbed his trousers.
"Why would you use that word if you didn't know?" Steve mumbled, eyes downcast, not daring to look up at his lover.
Bucky lifted his eyes to look at Steve, all hint of play gone. "I knew I loved you, Steve, but I just never knew how much until you turned sixteen. Literally, on your birthday it hit me I wanted to spend my life with you. Before that, I knew I loved being with you and loved what we did together. I just didn't realize back then that it was a forever after kind of love." He tilted his head. "Does that make sense?"
Steve nodded, tears stinging his eyes against all efforts to keep them at bay. "I'm sorry, Buck," Steve sobbed; he quickly covered his mouth to muffle the sound.
"Sorry?" Worry filled the brunet's voice and he stepped over again, his trousers undone and shirt untucked. "For what, love?" The tall man slid his arms around his smaller lover.
'For betraying your trust. For lying.' Steve shook his head and wrapped his arms tightly around his husband, clinging on as if his life depended on it. His whole body shook with the force of his sobs, "I'm sorry . . . I'm so sorry," the blond kept repeating, not explaining what exactly he was sorry for.
Lifting Steve's chin, Bucky began kissing his lover's face. "Hey, calm down. It's okay. I'm not upset about you crying, baby doll." He tried to wipe away the tears. "You don't always have to be strong for me, Steve."
Feeling even worse, Steve shook his head, "I lied to you, Bucky . . . I lied to you for so long."
Confusion furrowed the taller man's brow and he dropped his hands to Steve's shoulders. "Lied?" He sounded cautious."What do you mean?"
"One . . . one of my last appointments with Doctor Johnson . . . he . . . he uh, found something." Steve flinched, this wasn't the truth he wanted to tell the brunet, but he couldn't force himself to tell Bucky about the Army. "I was diagnosed with cancer . . ."
Going suddenly pale, Bucky staggered a bit, the backs of his legs hitting the desk chair. He fell onto the hard wood and looked up at Steve, horror and fear on his face. "Cancer?" He reached for Steve, desperation in his eyes and voice. "My God . . . how . . . how bad is it now?" Screw the lie, Steve was always thinking he was tougher than anything, always pretending nothing could hurt him. But . . . but cancer was a killer every time, and Bucky knew he could come home from the war to a funeral.
Steve shook his head, "I uh . . . I just found out that Johnson was wrong. That it wasn't cancer . . . but for nearly two years I kept it from you. I shoulda told you when I first found out. But I was afraid . . . I'm so sorry."
"Afraid?" Bucky shook his head. "Afraid of what? Me? I . . ." his quick mind worked through the possibilities and he dropped his head into his hands.
"No!" Steve answered quickly, "No . . . I was afraid that telling you would make it real. That you'd treat me different."
"That's why you want to go to war . . ." He stood up and walked out of the room into the main living area. "You have a fucking death wish . . ."
Following Bucky into the main area, Steve's tone turned desperate. "Can you blame me? I didn't wanna die like my mom, Buck! I didn't wanna die half-delirious from sickness and not remember you. I didn't want you having to take care of me like that! Having to see me like that!"
Fastening his pants with shaking hands, Bucky tucked in his shirt. He finally stopped and let his head bow down, clenching his fists into the sides of his legs. "And when I married you?" His voice came softly. "You didn't want me to take care of someone dying, yet you married me anyway?"
Closing his eyes, tears running down, Steve shook his head, "I'm sorry, Bucky. I should have told you."
Bucky drew a deep breath. He straightened and looked at Steve, his pale-blue eyes sad. "Yeah, you should have, Stevie. I'm your fucking husband. I promised the end of the line, remember? I would have appreciated knowing it might have been sooner than later." He stepped past Steve back into the bedroom to get his belt, socks, and bag.
"And if I did have cancer?" Steve asked, whirling around, "Ya would have kept me in bed. You would treat me like some fragile thing . . . I didn't want things to change!"
Bucky slipped his belt on without a word, fastening it. He sat on their bed to pull on his socks, still silently. Finally, he stood, grabbed the seventy-pound bag and stepped back to the living area. Putting the bag down, Bucky shook his head. "I would have worried my head off, Steve, and I would have constantly been asking if you were okay. But I wouldn't have condemned you to a bed unless you couldn't walk. I thought you knew me better than that? I watched what happened to your Mam, too." He headed for his shoes, sitting on a kitchen chair to slip them on and tie them.
Steve hung his head and let his tears fall freely, "I'm sorry . . . I was scared and I acted stupidly," The blond mumbled, sniffling.
Finally, dressed except jacket and hat, Bucky strode over to Steve and pulled him into a tight hug. "Of course, cause you're always stupid, punk." He lifted Steve's chin. "Next time, let me worry with you. That's what husbands do for each other." He kissed the smaller man softly on the lips.
Steve's heart clenched and he felt even worse than before. He had thought if he told Bucky about the cancer he'd feel better, but it only made him feel worse. Bucky had no idea that later in the day, Steve would be getting into a car and heading to boot camp. The smaller man closed his eyes and kissed his husband back.
Pulling away, Bucky sighed and shook his head. "How many times I gotta tell you, you don't have to handle things on your own?" He offered a small smile - - always easy to forgive Steve's mistakes and idiocies. Turning, the brunet picked up his jacket and slid into it, buttoning the front up. "So, I guess you're still gonna try to get into the Army anyway, even though you ain't dying next week?"
'If only you knew,' Steve thought bitterly, however the blond settled for laughing it off, "Well of course. I can't let ya fight all by yourself!"
Reaching for his hat, Bucky put it on, tilting it at his normally cocky angle. "Well, we did promise to go together if we could," he temporized, inadvertently forgiving Steve's second lie of omission without even knowing it. "Give me a kiss, lover," he requested.
Lurching forward to wrap his arms around his husband's neck, Steve clashed his lips against Bucky's with a fierce passion.
Returning the passion, Bucky held Steve tight for several long minutes, breathing through his nose as he kissed his husband, tongue working in Steve's mouth. Finally, he pulled back. "Take care . . . Cariad."
Steve nodded, laughing softly, "Don't win the war until I get there."
Bucky did a sharp, smart and very proper salute before reaching for his large bag and hefting it to his shoulder. He finally turned and left the house, only to turn once more on the sidewalk. Bucky once more saluted the house, much as he did before leaving for basics. After dropping his hand, the brunet turned and hitched a ride to the train station.
Steve turned and walked back into the bedroom to get ready for his later appointment to arrive at Camp Lehigh, New Jersey by private car, heart clenching in near misery and loneliness . . . at their morning revelations and all that remained unspoken.
xxx
Continued in Chapter Eighteen: A Week of New Beginnings