"Already back from your mission?" Bucky asks, shoving off his long hair from his face.
"I'm sorry, Buck, I didn't want to wake you up" Steve apologizes.
Bucky raises himself on one elbow, the blanket slipping from his shoulders to his waist, and Steve can't help but stare at his friend's body. Some scars are still healing, leaving red streaks all along his chest and belly, the results of a rough assignment against a remaining Hydra base. He wants to touch them, to touch Bucky, but ever since that day when he found him at the Washington DC Memorial, staring at his name etched in the marble, Bucky has never let him lay even a finger on him. It's barely enough that he has accepted to stay in Steve's apartment.
"I wasn't sleeping, by the way" Bucky says, sitting up. "And you have to stop doing that."
"Doing what?" Steve asks.
"Checking on me."
Steve frowns. He thought he was subtle about it, sliding in Bucky's bedroom at night, waiting for him to be asleep, but apparently it was not the case.
"Still having trouble sleeping?"
Bucky nods.
"Still the same nightmares?"
Bucky looks away, eyes staring into the void.
"Why don't you go back to your own room, now that you made sure I was okay?" Bucky asks, his tone more bitter than he intended.
"But that's the thing, Buck. You're not okay. And you won't let me sort this out with you."
Is that disapproval Bucky can sense in Steve's words? He gazes at the bed table, unable to face his friend's eyes, unable to tell him he still has dreams where he kills him in the most horrible and violent ways. He clenches his fists on the sheets, hoping Steve will take the hint and leave him alone. Leave him to deal with the ghosts of his past.
Steve sighs and almost leaves, but the sight of Bucky, head bent down, fists clenched so hard it drains all the blood from his knuckles, rips his heart apart. He sits down on the bed and reaches out for his friend, his hand settling gently on Bucky's shoulder. A gesture of protection, like a proof of care.
"You do know that you can tell me anything" he says, his voice as soft and reassuring as he can manage.
That voice. That touch. It feels so safe. So good. So right. Bucky shivers under Steve's hand. For a moment, he wants to give in to it. He wants to let Steve hold him, cup his head in his hands and rock all his troubles away. For a moment, there is no doubt, no fear, no pain. For a moment, the old carefree Bucky is back. The one before the war. The one before Captain America. Before the serum, the metal arm and the cryogenic chamber. He looks at his hands, squinting to prevent his tears from falling down. His hands. Flesh and metal. All the things he has done with those unyielding fingers suddenly come back to his mind. Brutally, he shrugs Steve off, retreating even further back in the bed.
"Steve, this is really ridiculous" he mutters. "Go back to your room."
"You know, at one point, you're going to have to let go and trust me completely" Steve replies. "We're going to see this through. Together. You and I."
At that moment, Bucky realizes it's not the lack of trust for Steve that makes him hold back. It's the fear of what he might be capable of doing to him if he really lets go.
"You don't understand, Steve" he blurts out, shaking his head. "It's not a question of trust. It's - I - I don't know what I would do if I hurt you" he finally manages, looking up at Steve, his blue eyes burning with tears that won't come out.
"I know you could never hurt me, Buck. You're my friend."
How does he do that? How does he never doubt? Good old Steve. Always so righteous. Always so selfless. Bucky's lower lip starts to tremble.
"I still have those dreams where I - " he cannot bring himself to say the words. "Where I finish my mission" he finishes miserably.
"But you didn't. Bucky, you didn't. In the end, you saved me. It was you. James Buchanan Barnes. My friend. My lov- "
He can't even finish his sentence because Bucky has finally thrown himself at him, arms tightly set around him. Giants sobs heave his body over and over and Steve hugs him in return, patting his back, stroking his hair.
"Shhhhh" he murmurs. "It's going to be alright. You're going to be alright. Just let go. Let it all go."
After a while, Bucky's sobs recede and he just sits there, in Steve's arms, until his breathing returns to normal and he can finally speak again.
"I wish things could return to the way they were before."
Steve cups his face in his hands, planting his eyes in his, knowing exactly what Bucky means.
"Who's to say they can't?" he whispers before his lips brush Bucky's.
"Steve" Bucky sighs.
Steve only presses his lips further. It feels soft and warm and a little wet, just as he remembers. Bucky responds, kissing him back, shy at first, then eager and keen, his hands twisting in Steve's hair, pushing him closer, hungry for the taste of his mouth. The kiss deepens and tongues entangle as hands begin to roam each other's backs. Little moans escape them each time they release the other's mouth, only to begin kissing again with more passion.
"I've missed you so much" Steve whispers in Bucky's ears, his kisses going down from his jaw to his neck, and Bucky tilts his head back to give him better access.
He knows where this is going, even after all this time. There's a familiarity, a closeness in Steve's touch that he didn't even know he missed, that he didn't even remember he craved. But now that Steve's mouth and hands are all over him, it comes back to him fully, how he would always let Steve toy with him before taking control. Anxiety starts to crawl in his mind, even as Steve kisses and licks down along his chest, his belly and his waist. What if things went too far? What if he was unable to control himself? But for the moment, all of Steve's caresses are too good and he closes his eyes, focusing on the responses of his body, the goosebumps and the little shivers, the burning sensation deep in his belly.
Steve stops just before his hips and the seam of Bucky's black underwear, raising his face to ask: "Shall I continue?"
Bucky looks down and nods, smirking. Steve places one hand on his chest, pushing him down on the sheets, then he slides the boxers just enough to release Bucky's erection, his fingers encircling it.
"Wait" Bucky says and Steve looks at him expectantly, a slight frown on his face.
"It can't go any further for today" Bucky continues. "You have to promise me. You won't let me do anything to you."
Steve's frown intensifies but he promises and Bucky relaxes back into the bed, his fingers playing with Steve's hair as his tongue slides all along his cock. Bucky moans deep, the warmth of Steve all over him, giving in entirely. Steve twirls his tongue deftly around Bucky's tip then he brings his mouth around him and takes him all in. He begins to suck as deep as he can, alternating long slides with his mouth and quick licks of his tongue, bringing Bucky on the verge of coming undone, enjoying every moment of it.
"Stop!" Bucky commands.
Steve obeys, a little taken aback. This voice doesn't belong to Bucky, the lifelong friend. Neither does it belong to Bucky the soldier. It is deeper, full of purpose, impossible to deny. There is a feral gleam in his eyes as he forces Steve on his back. Suddenly, Steve realizes that Bucky might have been right about hurting him and that was why he made him promise. But at this point, he couldn't care less. He has waited too long for this moment to prevent its outcome from happening.
As quick as a cat, Bucky pounces on the floor, kneeling in between Steve's thighs. His large member still wet with saliva hovers over Steve's butt, teasing. Steve braces himself, taking a deep breath. Bucky seizes his butt, making Steve slide a little off the bed. With a quick thrust of his hips, he pushes himself inside Steve.
"Fucks!" he groans, filling him to the brim.
Steve grabs hold of the sheets, tears welling in his eyes, arching his back to ease Bucky's way. Bucky grips his butt hard, metal fingers etching marks in his flesh, before pounding him over and over again and Steve moans, his head thrown back deep in the mattress. Bucky's hand slides up and down Steve's cock in rhythm with his deep thrusts. Steve can't prevent his tears from flowing freely on his cheeks as he feels ecstasy overcome him. He doesn't even know what gives him more pleasure, Bucky's member hitting him repeatedly on the right place or his hand stroking his cock. All he knows is that he wants to die right here, right now.
"Buck" he cries out as his whole body tightens and his own come covers his belly and chest.
Bucky smirks at him, continuing to ram him as hard as he can, leaning on Steve's chest to lick the sticky liquid. His teeth finally sink in his flesh as he hits his orgasm, biting him to the blood. Steve's limp body slides entirely down from the bed, resting on Bucky's knees, smearing Bucky's chest with come and blood. He closes his eyes, hands leisurely rubbing Bucky's back, their hearts beating in unison.
"That was - not as I remembered" Steve finally says. "I don't remember ever coming that hard."
Bucky smiles his old Bucky smile, the one he used to grace Steve with when he was particularly proud of himself. Steve hasn't seen that smile for ages and it makes his heart flutter. But soon the smile fades when Bucky kisses him and tastes the salt of tears on his cheeks.
"Steve, you cried. I made you cry" he scolds himself, breaking free from Steve's arms, his eyes falling on the blood from his bite. "I hurt you. I knew I would. You promised you wouldn't let it go out of hand. You should have stopped me."
"It's okay, Buck. You didn't hurt me. You could never hurt me."
"But the tears?" Bucky asks, still not understanding.
"They were tears of joy, you punk."
Bucky looks up at Steve, relieved.
"Jerk" he smirks.