makinglies | Flashback

Yeah, he'd stepped into that one. He took advantage of the time offered with the playful shove he tried to give Steve for his comment. 'Tried' because it was hard to shove a rock of a man when you weren't meaning to.

"That's just it though, isn't it? We're gonna be gone by tomorrow; hooking up for one night and a good time's not really my thing. I mean, it sounds fun, but it just never plays out that way."

He shot a smirk to Steve, tone half joking while the other, quieter, half was a hundred percent serious. "Believe it or not, I actually like spending my time around obnoxious brats like you instead of random girls I've never met and won't again."

"Yeah but I mean. There's things with girls.." And just like that Steve feels as scrawny and awkward as if he'd never taken the serum. "Like fondue..."

He coughs once, just to clear his throat, but now the image is in his head of Bucky "fondueing" and is forced to shift a bit away from him on the bed, crossing his legs. Awkward.

He gives an unashamed bark of laughter as his smirk falls out of control into a huge grin. Steve had told him about his wayward definition of 'fondue' and it had been hilarious. A couple months later, it was still pretty damn funny.

"You're missing the point here, Steve, I don't want to. I'm just fine staying right here." Steve did have a point, though, it had been a long time since Bucky had shared a bed with anyone, long enough that it was tempting on some level to go find some willing partner for one night. But that thought process just made him more aware of Steve's presence nearby, close enough to reach out and touch if he wanted.

Before, Steve had been thin and fragile, something to be handled with care, now he was sturdy and muscular and likely strong enough to snap Bucky in half if he really wanted to, he wondered how that difference felt. Making it his turn to shift uncomfortably and find somewhere else to look besides his attractive best friend next to him.

Of course, that was the most attractive thing about Steve: he'd changed in a lot of ways, but what made Steve Rogers Steve Rogers, what made him Bucky's best friend, hadn't. And what made Steve Steve was what had caught his attention and kept it.

That laugh from Bucky makes Steve smile. It's been awhile since he's seen his friend grin like that, all actual mirth with no darkness to it. They'd been through a lot and it makes them both serious, but seeing Bucky laugh from his core, even if it's short, is decidedly pleasant.

It doesn't hurt that it makes his eyes sparkle and crinkle around the edges and Steve catches himself admiring the sight. He has to wonder if maybe a little 'fondue' wouldn't be so bad if you shared it with someone you'd already shared everything else with.

His gaze stretches on for longer than he intends, Steve's eyes passing over each of Bucky's features and settling on his lips. It's normal, isn't it? It's normal because it's war, the Greeks did it so it's not like it came out of nowhere. It's taking comfort in each other, relaxing before a big op, reveling in the first time they've had to themselves in months.

What's a kiss between friends?

Steve licks his lips unconsciously and maybe leans in just a little...

A moment passes and then another and Bucky's suddenly aware that Steve's staring at him, not really in that way he sometimes did where he wandered off in his own head and left his eyes vacantly glued to something, but honestly looking at Bucky for an extended period of time.

He wished he knew what Steve was thinking, but he didn't get his first clue until he noticed his friend leaning in a little more. It could be nothing, it could just be Bucky reading into it what he wanted...but there was no way to ask that, so he leaned in too. Further. Those lips were still soft and warm against his as he kissed Steve lightly at first, almost waiting to see if he would pull back from Bucky and tell him off or something, but when that didn't happen, he put more pressure and attention into it.

This is different than when they'd 'practiced' as kids, not able to find the name for whatever closeness it was that they actually wanted. This is something comforting and honest after months of death and blood and suffering, this is solace in a man who knows him better than he knows himself and who he knows at least as well in return. Something Steve hadn't indulged in because Bucky had always been surrounded by women, always tried to hook him up with women too, always ended up off with both when Steve bailed out of awkward nerves and with half-hearted excuses.

Something he hadn't let himself think of since becoming Captain America, since rescuing Bucky and the Commandos, since starting their private, smaller war against Hydra. He couldn't afford to, and Peggy was nice and there's something there too and that was less complicated because she was, well... she.

But she didn't know him like Bucky. And she didn't kiss like Bucky, all familiarity and full attention and Steve feels badly for even comparing them. So he shuts off his brain for half a minute - it's easy enough to do, tired as he is - and just enjoys how soft his friends lips are on his own and lifts his hands to the sides of Bucky's face.

Steve's hands are on his face and nothing else matters to him right now. His fears, concerns, anything potentially weighing on him slips away for a bit so he can concentrate on how good it feels to be kissing Steve Rogers, to wrap his arms around his friend's frame and press his hands against Steve's shoulder blades in an aim to be closer.

He always knew he liked women, as seldom as he actually hooked up with them, but he also always knew he'd liked Steve. It wasn't something that had developed until both of their hormones had started going crazy, but he knew it had happened before they'd gone to see that movie, the one that had made him a little braver and given him an idea on how to learn what kissing Steve would feel like.

He'd always felt a little bad for having those kinds of feelings for his best friend, mostly because of how sick Steve was all the time--there were times when he'd think maybe there was something wrong with him for having his feelings, especially whenever Steve got sick or got into trouble, then he wanted to protect the smaller boy more than kiss him--but he had also felt bad as time had gone on and he realized Steve wasn't going to be able to join the army like Bucky was. How unfair was it to have feelings for someone when you knew it was very possible you'd never see them again?

That latter part was still true, they were still putting their lives on the line and there'd been plenty of close enough calls to be a reminder of that, but now...well, Steve was kissing him back and it was really hard to convince himself this was a bad idea when all he wanted to do was make the kiss deeper.

So he did.

The kiss grows deeper on Bucky's end but while Steve tries to match him, enthusiastic if anything else, he's not sure what to do exactly. Contrary to what's apparently popular belief, Captain America, with scores of women throwing themselves at him at random, has very little experience necking.

But that doesn't stop him from trying.

There's some instinct to it and Steve follows that instinct, shifting on the bed closer to Bucky and letting out a little grunt as the other man nips his lower lip and steals his breath and generally does everything he can to make Steve's uniform uncomfortable. He's not sure how to make the kiss any deeper even if he wants to somehow, but he slides his hands from Bucky's face to his chest and sides instead, feeling the light cotton of his undershirt, the cool metal of his dogtags, and the sinewy muscle over his ribs.

At first it may have been jealousy at his friend being able-bodied when Steve had been so frail for so long, but he has to admit to himself that he's wanted to feel Bucky moving under his hands for a long, long time.

He's aware of every awkward, imperfect movement of their kiss just as he's heavily aware of Steve's hands and the trail of warmth they leave in their wake. He doesn't really mind that Steve clearly doesn't know what he's doing--it's not like that's surprising, considering--in fact, Bucky kind of likes the fact he can show the other what he knows.

His tongue darts out to run along Steve's lips, pressing a bit to indicate he wanted the blond to part them so Bucky's tongue could explore at will. One of his hands slid up and cupped the back of Steve's neck as the other slid slowly down and back around from back to side to stop on thigh, just touching to touch than to elicit any particular reaction. That's what his mouth was busy doing.

He may be more used to giving orders than receiving them these days, but Steve is quick to allow Bucky's tongue entrance, letting out a little moan as his mouth is stormed and captured. The hand on his thigh sends Steve's spine straight and quivering, anticipating any further movement and leaving him short of breath. He doesn't know what Bucky will do next but he's practically dying to find out.

Even so, Steve's not one stand by when he can act, and so he curls one arm around the other's waist and pulls him close, scooting him a few inches on the sheets to rest flush against the captain's bulkier form. He really has no idea what possessed him to do it; there was no rational thought involved, just a need for Bucky to be closer.

"Bucky," the name comes out a throaty moan between breaths, quiet and barely heard beyond his lips, but it's still somehow carries huge meaning, defining Bucky as Steve sees him. Protector and protected, dearest friend and something more, someone permanent and needed and necessary. Steve and Bucky, Bucky and Steve, names always said together because that's how they have meaning. How they're defined. Steve's nearly certain that he wouldn't have made it this long without the other man at his side, not through all his childhood illnesses, not through school, and not through now to be an American symbol and hero. Steve may have the face and the drive, but Bucky directs it whether he knows it or not.

"Bucky..." He moans again, helplessly, into his partner's mouth.

Steve pulling Bucky against him has him hot under the collar already, but it's the way his friend moans his name--not says, moans, in that way that says Steve's enjoying what Bucky's doing--that his him hard and wanting more than anything. He wants to hear more of that, wants to take care of Steve in this way too; he wasn't very experienced, so Bucky would show him what he knew.

"Steve..." The hand on Steve's thigh shifted to his hip as his other hand slid down to work at his friend's clothing, his lips also moving to trail kisses along that strong jawline. As much as he wanted to just move quickly and have the blond calling his name, he kept his movements slow and steady so as not to overwhelm him too much.

The shift of lips from his own to his jaw has Steve lifting his chin in an eager motion, urging Bucky on with his posture and panting breaths. The captain's fingers still trace and touch, forcibly gentle even as they crawl under the hem of Bucky's tank. Steve swallows as if this is some supreme effort; it is, at least a little. He's holding back, he has to hold back or he might hurt the last person in the world on which he'd ever want to visit harm, but Steve can't keep himself from touching, from resting his palms against skin, feeling it roll over Bucky's ribs and eliciting a shiver of pleasure from the blond.

It's an enormous relief when Bucky gets his belt undone after what's felt like an eternity. There's an embarrassing bulge, 'hot and bothered' not even covering the state Steve is in and suddenly the slow pace he'd been enjoying as Bucky lavished attention at his throat is far too slow.

"H-hey." He swallows, licks his lips, and tries again. "Hey, Buck, I'm not that fragile anymore."

The kisses slow to a stop, leaving Bucky panting against Steve's neck as both of his hands continue their work on his friend's clothing. "You're right...sorry."

He hadn't been thinking about it, but he had been keeping his attentions gentle probably in a subconscious effort not to hurt Steve, even though that would be quite an accomplishment these days.

He focused on removing their shirts so at least that little bit of separation was gone before his lips returned to Steve's this time with more ferocity than he'd had before; he kissed Steve like he needed to have his lips on the other man to continue existing.

Bare chested with exception to their dogtags, Bucky pressed in close and let his hands roam unrestricted across the new sharp planes that made up Steve's torso. Chest, arms, sides, back, no part of Steve goes un-explored by strong fingers. Even Bucky's lips take a turn, again more enthusiastically than before, testing a few choice spots with kisses and maybe a subtle graze of teeth just to get Steve to shiver.

Bucky almost has Steve undone just through touch, the Sargent's hands tracing fire across every inch of now exposed flesh, hungry and seeking. When Bucky's fingers knead into Steve's back, he lets out a helpless and ferocious moan, pressing himself as close as he can possibly get and making the kiss between them impossibly deep. He feels as if he's drowning and this is the only way to breathe, to feel his lip captured between Bucky's teeth, tugged until its smarts and then let go so Steve can rush in again and again, his own hands clutching and kneading of their own accord, just to feel Bucky.

When the other man's lips begin to travel Steve finds himself panting hard, his hips having developed autonomy and using it to grind into Bucky's leg at an awkward angle. He'd give anything just to tumble down onto the bed and tangle himself up in the brunette but he can't risk that Bucky will stop with his mouth or his hands or that he'll ruin the moment by being too heavy or too forward. So he does only that much, shuddering as Bucky's teeth skate over his shoulder and clutching the other man to him tightly.

It's a weird angle and not something he's used to feeling, but the way Steve rubs himself against Bucky's leg is ridiculously hot. It just makes him overly aware of what clothing they still have on.

Without pulling away any more than he absolutely had to, he pushed against Steve's chest to get him to lay back, albeit a little awkwardly since the bed was hardly built for two. Once he had his friend where he wanted him, his lips found their way back to Steve's while his hand snuck further and further down the blond's body.

Steve's pants almost seemed to come undone of their own accord for how fast Bucky's fingers worked, then that hand was sliding even further, under obstructing cloth to fondle and stroke in a teasing way he knew would drive his friend crazy.

With Bucky's hand on his chest, though he's hardly strong enough to shove Steve down with so little pressure, Steve lays back readily. His hands fly to Bucky's biceps, clutching tightly enough to bruise for a moment before he remembers himself and snatches his hands away, leaving five finger print marks on each arm.

A load moan from the back of his throat and Steve's hips are lifting off the cot to meet those teasing hands, the captain's arms wrapping around behind Bucky's head for lack of anywhere else to reach, fingers fisting in hair and cradling as if Steve can't decide if he wants to pull his partner into a crushing embrace or let him continue his exquisite torture unimpeded.

Bucky only fondles for so long before he pulls his hand away and wriggles out of Steve's hold to stand beside the bed. Once there, he works on removing Steve's pants and underwear in one swoop, leaving the other man open to the room.

He wasn't going to leave Steve as the only one uncovered, but he couldn't help the pause he took as he admired the body so familiar and unfamiliar to him. There were marks and scars he recognized as old, but the physique was entirely different and well worth admiring.

There was strange mix of sadness and thankfulness at how his friend now looked, different but at least healthy, and it just made him more determined to become just as intimately acquainted with this version of Steve as he'd been with the old one.

Bucky finally stripped himself down as well and climbed back onto the bed to deliver kisses to a firm torso and waist, moving down to hips before finally delivering kisses to a hardened length. Some other things had also changed, but he doubted either of them were complaining.

"Bucky?" It's a nervous sort of reminder that he's still there, that Bucky's been staring at him with such a strange look on his face. He sees it sometimes, when they'll be planning and he glances over to find Bucky already trying to wipe the expression away into something more serious.

It seems to do the same this time, Steve's attention on him snapping Bucky back to reality and soon his friend is naked too and sliding onto the cot on top of him, lips meeting skin that's never been tasted before. Steve can't quite stifle the gasp that comes from him as Bucky's mouth moves from his stomach to waist, from waist to hips, placing soft kisses as if he's still as scrawny and fragile as he once was.

He nearly protests, but then those lips are on his cock instead and his voice turns into a heavy moan instead, Steve's fingers finding their way into Bucky's already unkempt hair and curling there as if to urge him on.

Bucky still might have problems remembering Steve's not as fragile as he used to be, but the grips Steve sometimes get are reminder enough when Bucky does forget. He grins a little at Steve's reaction and he can't help but take a little pride in knowing he does this to Steve, he can unravel his best friend with the lightest of touch and a well-placed kiss, it was a very heady feeling.

"Now you're just tryin' to show off, Rogers." To illustrate what he meant, Bucky's fingers curled around Steve's length as he ran his tongue slowly up the side of it. It wasn't massive but it was impressive and definitely bigger than Steve's old 'equipment.' That serum really had made the good better.

Bucky was mostly teasing and he showed it in the way his hand and mouth never left Steve's sensitive skin. He held the base, stroking with his fingers while he licked every side of the length before taking as much of it into his mouth, comfortably, as he could. And then he sucked on it hard.

Edited 2014-10-18 04:58 (UTC)

"Jealous?" He blushes, from his shoulders and up his neck, but there's a wicked grin that crosses his farm-boy features. He may not be the type to obsess about his own equipment, but he'd definitely noticed the welcome change in package along with everything else.

Then Bucky's tongue is on him and rational thought attempts to make a break for it. The sensation is heavenly and makes him quiver in Bucky's solid grip. He can't help but crane his neck to get a glimpse, watching himself disappear between Bucky's lips and going momentarily breathless at the sight. It's only when the Sargent sucks that he remembers to breath, sucking in oxygen with the force of a vacuum.

"Oh."

Flashback

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