Chapter Text
The playroom was more of what Bucky had been expecting from a dungeon. It was a vast space, populated with various pieces of bondage equipment, some of which he recognized and some of which were new and, he had to admit, confusing. The walls, floor, ceiling, and most of the equipment were black leather, and the accents tended to be red. That certainly felt like a cliché but hey: why was he here if not for the clichéness of it all? The lighting was strategic, mostly red bulbs which cast an eerie, sexy glow over everything in the room. It also kept things dark enough that he didn’t immediately feel self-conscious. There was music coming from somewhere - pulsating stuff that sounded like sex. He’d bet money that Nine Inch Nails was on the playlist. All told, the room was both intimate and, weirdly, professional-feeling.
The first thing he saw was a man with a familiar face (was he on that CW show? Didn’t matter.) bent over a black leather bench. A woman was standing behind him holding a glass wand attached to a black cord. Bucky had just opened his mouth to ask Steve what it was when his question was answered as the woman touched the wand to the man’s ass, making him yelp.
So, electricity play. Bucky was one hundred percent not sure how he felt about that.
“You wanna try?” Steve murmured, his breath tickling Bucky’s ear. He was teasing, but it still sent a little jolt of something right down to the pit of Bucky’s stomach.
“Um…”
Steve’s arm wrapped around Bucky’s waist, and he leaned in, kissing his temple. “Kidding. That’s a little advanced for you, pal.” He looked around, eyes settling on a pile of large cushions stacked up against one wall. “Why don’t we try something remedial?”
“I...like what?” Bucky asked, his eyes following Steve’s.
“Like...we’ll sit down and watch. You on the floor, me on the couch.” Because there were couches in the play space, too, Bucky noticed, carefully placed for prime viewing. There were also chairs that were easily moved so people could get closer to scenes they were interested in. That wasn’t what he’d expected, either. None of it was.
“Okay,” he agreed, happy for something else to focus on as he followed Steve over to pick up a cushion, then to an open couch. Well, sort of open. Half of it was occupied by another couple. Steve didn’t seem to mind as he tossed the cushion to the ground before sitting down.
“Make yourself comfortable, sweetheart,” he said, which was the kind of thing he always said to Bucky when he was being a dork.
So Bucky did, sitting on the cushion with his arms wrapped around Steve’s calf, head resting on his knee. Steve’s fingers moved to comb through his hair after a moment, and Bucky was content to just watch the scenes going on around them. The electricity was interesting, someone else was getting spanked, there was some sort of medical thing going on in a corner and, yup, straight up fucking happening on a sex swing. All the people seemed totally cool with having fifty sets of eyes on them. There was something wonderfully appealing about being that open - giving yourself over to someone else so entirely that you trusted them to take you apart in front of a room full of people.
Being in that space felt both surreal, and also as though it was the most natural place in the world for him to be. The human brain was amazingly adept at adapting itself to strange situations.
Still. There was the question of Steve’s bag: why did he have it, what was in it, and what would he do to Bucky if he asked? Most importantly: did Bucky want him to? Their games at home had gotten significantly more intense in the time they’d been together, from roleplay to toys, but the idea of bringing that out into the real world was intimidating.
But maybe, just maybe, he was feeling extra courageous.
“Daddy, can I come up there?” he asked eventually, because he didn’t want to shout over the music.
“Course you can,” Steve replied, arranging himself so that Bucky could cuddle up next to him on the couch. “What’s up?”
He shrugged, toying with the fabric of Steve’s shirt as he thought about what he wanted to ask. “If...if we were gonna do something. What would we do?”
Steve thought about that, drawing little patterns on Bucky’s back, pushing his shirt up enough that he could get at his bare skin. “Well,” he said. “I’d like to restrain you. Show you off.”
That was good. Bucky liked bondage. “Like how?”
“Nothing too painful.” He was always quick to reassure Bucky of that. Bucky loved getting spanked or teased, and once he was warmed up, he could take harder hits or rougher sex (save for one particular incident with a ruler - hadn't liked that at all). He liked pain, to a certain extent, so long as it was mixed with lots of pleasure and praise. But he wasn’t a masochist, and it was good to know Steve wouldn’t try anything too novel or intense on him in such an unfamiliar situation.
“Okay, so what then?” he asked.
“Mmm, tease you a little, show everyone how good you are when you want to be.” His voice was a low growl near Bucky’s ear. “I brought the floggers.”
And shit, okay, so he wasn’t into heavy pain, but Bucky loved the floggers. They were more like a sweet, burning ache, and they were something he often requested when Steve gave him a choice. Still, the thought of being flogged in public made him squirm. He couldn’t quite make up his mind as to whether he was turned on or terrified. Was it possible to be both? “Um…”
“Just an idea,” Steve said easily. “You know that, right? We don’t have to do anything at all.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said quickly. “I just...if I...I probably wouldn’t want to be naked in front of people.” He usually was naked when they were at home. But here: nope. At least not at first. (Because obviously, the nudity was the tough part, not the baring of his innermost desires to a crowd.)
“Sure, baby,” Steve agreed. “What about just taking off your shirt?” Bare skin was a necessity with the floggers. Steve had explained why the first time they’d used them - how he needed to see the skin he was marking so he could make sure he wasn’t hitting Bucky too hard.
“Yeah, I could do that,” he agreed after thinking about it for a second. “And...I mean, do you think people would come and watch?”
Steve hesitated, twining his fingers into Bucky’s hair and shrugging. “I could make it as uninviting as possible. Move the chairs away, glare at anyone who got too close.”
Squirming, Bucky studied his hands. “WhatifIwantedthemto?”
“What’s that, Buck?”
He took a deep breath. “What if...what if I wanted them to?”
Steve’s grip on his hair tightened, pulling his head back a bit to expose the column of his throat. “The thing is, baby,” he teased. “I don’t know if you know this about yourself, but you’re real god damn pretty. So yeah, I think a lot of people would come and watch.”
“Shut up, Stevie,” he grumbled, smiling in spite of himself, letting out a yelp when Steve leaned in and bit his neck lightly.
“We don’t have to play this time,” Steve said quietly, his voice taking on that earnest tone again as he pulled back. “Honestly, Buck. We can come back if you just want to watch tonight.”
Bucky Barnes, however, was not one to back down from a challenge. “No,” he said, after a moment’s consideration, his chin jutting out. “I want to. I can do it.”
Steve smiled - that big, bright smile which meant he was very proud of Bucky. The one that always lit him up inside. “Yeah, okay, pal,” he smiled. “But I’m making the rules, and the rules say you get a safe word that goes beyond telling me to fuck off. Three of them, in fact.”
“Ugh, Steve, not the stoplights. Really?”
“Yeah, the stoplights, brat,” he smiled. “No arguments.”
Bucky wasn’t going to argue. Well, he might have argued, but he was distracted by Steve starting to give him instructions.
His boyfriend didn’t exactly leap up from the couch and drag Bucky over to tie him up. No, Steve had a whole litany of things they needed to do before they could get started. First, he actually made Bucky stretch like it was goddamn gym class. Then he sent him to piss, drink some water, and take off his shoes before showing him to a raised platform near the center of one wall. It was well-lit, and in any other circumstance might have been described as a small stage. He had no idea what it was for, or how Steve was going to tie him up until Steve went to the wall and started using a pulley system to lower a rig from the ceiling. The apparatus itself had a spreader bar attached, with snap hooks to clip cuffs onto. He’d seen spreader bars on the Internet before, but this one looked heavy duty - like it could hold his weight.
Bucky watched, curious, as Steve tested the height of the rig, before beckoning Bucky over. “Hold your hands up, all the way over your head. Let me see how tall you are.”
He did, obediently holding his position while Steve adjusted the height of the equipment before stepping back and nodding. “Good. Come here, baby.”
Bucky moved closer as Steve dug into his bag and came up with a set of leather cuffs. The same cuffs, in fact, he’d used to tie Bucky to the bed once or twice. Or, well, a million times. Bucky liked being tied up. The cuffs were comfortable to wear, all soft, supple leather, and he held out his wrists when requested.
“Two questions,” Steve murmured, checking the fit of the cuffs by running his finger between the material and Bucky’s skin. “Number one, can I go ahead and take your shirt off?”
That was easy. Bucky nodded, and Steve stripped the clothing off him, tossing it to the side of the platform. (Bucky was exceedingly glad he’d been doing crunches and that his tan from running shirtless in the summer hadn’t completely faded. Because there might have been a ton of different body types in that room, but he was the tiniest bit vain when he wanted to be.)
“Number two: do you want a blindfold?”
That one was harder. He hesitated, considering his options. “N-no,” he settled on after a minute. “Not yet. Maybe eventually. But not right now.” After all, if he was going to get off on people looking at him, a blindfold would sort of defeat the purpose.
“Good boy,” Steve replied, looking pleased with him as he took Bucky’s hand and led him over to the rig. “Gonna be a little bit of a stretch, sweetness, but I know you can do it.”
Bucky could indeed do it, and he watched intently as Steve stretched one of his arms up, then the other, attaching them to the snap hooks dangling from the rig. Steve stepped back after that, and Bucky couldn’t quite see what he was doing. He was made aware a few seconds later when the sound of the pulley working became audible, and he felt a tug on his bound wrists. Steve hoisted him up another few inches, making it so he couldn’t lower himself back down onto his flat feet. He could just about keep his toes on the ground, as long as he was careful. Still, it was precarious, putting a not-insignificant amount of pressure on his shoulders. He sighed with relief when he felt Steve’s comforting weight behind him again, holding him tight, big hand resting on his taut stomach.
“So sweet for me,” he murmured into Bucky’s ear, causing him to sway a bit in his bonds. “You start losing feeling anywhere, you tell me. And if you need some relief for your shoulders, grab the chains and pull yourself up a little.” He stepped back. “Show me you can do that.”
Bucky did as Steve asked, wrapping his hands around the chains and the hooks to pull himself up, using the strength in his arms to take his weight off his toes and his shoulders. He wouldn’t be able to do it for extended periods of time, but it was helpful to know he had the option for a little bit of relief.
“Good boy,” Steve replied, stepping closer and wrapping him up again. “Gimme a stoplight, Buck.”
“Green, Daddy,” he said immediately, turning his head to try and catch Steve in a kiss. No such luck. Steve chose to move back again, Bucky swaying enough that he nearly lost his footing.
“I want to try something,” Steve said, ignoring Bucky’s distress as he moved to stand in front of him with something in his hands. Oh. Bucky recognized a set of nipple clamps as soon as Steve held them up. They didn’t look too bad, silicone caps on the ends, the clamps themselves connected by a light chain. But they’d never tried them before, and he worried they might hurt too much. His nipples weren’t as sensitive as Steve’s were (he wasn’t sure some women were as sensitive as Steve in that area), but there was still some concern.
“Um…”
“We don’t have to,” Steve said soothingly. “But I really think you’d look good with them on, baby, don’t you?”
Damn Steve. He knew how to get under Bucky’s skin, appealing to his pride. Because of course he would. He’d look fucking fantastic. “Yes,” he said, projecting confidence in his answer, though he swallowed hard as Steve raised a hand to his chest.
The clamps themselves weren’t as bad as he’d been imagining, causing him to squirm a bit as they bit into his flesh. The initial shock of pain gave way to a dull throb within ten seconds or so, and he looked down at himself with some interest.
“The thing is, though, Buck,” Steve smirked, admiring his handiwork. “They hurt a hell of a lot more comin’ off than they do goin’ on.”
(And if the thought of that sent a jolt of excitement straight to Bucky’s dick, well, Steve didn’t have to know.)
Steve moved behind him again as Bucky tried to relax. It was easier said than done, now that there was a crowd gathering, shadowy and vague behind the lights directed onto the platform. He was suddenly acutely aware of how he must look, trussed up and half-naked, clamps on his chest, dick twitching against the leather. Distressed, he whimpered. Steve was there immediately, pulling Bucky back against his chest and whispering in his ear.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart. You okay?”
“Lotta people,” he said quietly, chewing on his bottom lip.
“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “They see how gorgeous you are - I don’t blame ‘em, wanting to watch.”
“Daddy…” he protested, wriggling in his bonds.
“What’s your color?”
He hesitated, thinking it through. The people made him nervous, but it was a good sort of fear, the kind that sent shivers down his spine as opposed to panic. “Green but like...maybe almost a little bit greenish-yellow?” he said, chewing on his bottom lip.
“Good. Thank you for being honest.” Hands on his stomach, the small of his back, sliding down his hips as he relaxed into them. “You’re okay, good boy.” Steve kept the attention up, kissing the side of Bucky’s neck and cuddling him as much as he could until Bucky was a little more pliant and relaxed. “How about now?”
“Mmm, green,” he said, and he really, really was.
“Proud of you. I’m gonna go get the floggers now, okay?”
“Yes, please,” he said, letting his head hang forward so he didn’t have to see all the people. Despite the fact that he was enjoying the attention in that funny way he had, it was still new and intimidating. Plus, Steve hadn’t said he had to look.
Steve didn’t give him any warning before one of the floggers came down across Bucky’s back, the soft leather tails more like a tickle than anything else. He sighed at the sensation - it had been a while. And Steve was good at it, warming Bucky up with light, alternating kisses of the implements before the blows got harder. Never truly painful, but intense enough that they sent Bucky skittering forward on his toes until he lost his balance and was forced to swing back. Steve, of course, was always there to catch him and set him upright again.
“Careful, baby,” he teased, making sure Bucky was steady the third time he’d gone for a swing. “You think you can take a couple real hard ones for me?”
That sent a shiver down Bucky’s spine, even though he knew ‘real hard’ from Steve was something he could certainly handle. “Uh huh, Daddy,” he agreed, as Steve took his position.
The flogger fell, the crack of the impact loud enough to be heard throughout the cavernous space. Bucky yowled, pulling away from the heat and the pain, only to be brought up short by his bondage, arms jerking him back into place as he struggled to hold his footing once more. Steve didn’t catch him that time, and as Bucky got his balance back, he realized it was because Steve was laughing.
“You’re adorable,” Steve teased, a smile in his voice. “Where ya going, huh? Come on, you can take another one, can’t you? Or are you gonna keep trying to run away from me…”
“I’m not!” Bucky protested. He was trying to be serious about it, which lasted for about three seconds before a snort of laughter escaped him as well. It was funny. If they’d been at home, he would have been teasing Steve right back, and they probably would have gotten the giggles five times over. It was a relief to know it wasn’t taboo to laugh in the middle of a scene in a club, either. That what they were doing was, above all else, fun.
“So that’s why it looked like you were about to drag the whole rig down with you, huh, kiddo?” Steve said, still chuckling to himself. “Come back over here, let’s try that again.”
Bucky was still grinning by the time Steve got him settled. Steve was good, though, bringing him back into the scene as he leaned in close to Bucky’s ear and practically growled. “Next time, I’ll tie your legs up, too, so you can’t go anywhere. Maybe some rope? You know how pretty you look...”
And, fuck, the times Steve had tied him up with rope at home had blown Bucky’s mind out of his dick. So that most definitely seemed like an option for the future.
“Daddy, please?” he whimpered, because his kink-brain apparently wanted the rope now, not on some undetermined date.
“Not today,” Steve replied. “Today, I’m gonna give you three more of those big hits, just like I promised you. You think you can take that?”
“Yes,” he said immediately. “I can...I can do it, I promise, please?”
“So nice when you’re good, Bucky,” Steve murmured, bringing a hand up to grab his hair, forcing Bucky to look up. “Look at all those people, watching you. Gonna make me proud?”
“Yes,” he gasped. “Please, please...I can be good.”
“We’ll see,” Steve replied, releasing his hold on Bucky’s hair and stepping back. Bucky willed himself to stay as still as he could while Steve landed three more hard blows on his back, body jerking and writhing, just a little, after each one.
But oh, it was worth it after the last hit, when Steve’s arms wrapped around him and he palmed Bucky through his leather pants. “God damn, baby,” he said as Bucky arched into the touch, whining and rubbing himself against Steve’s hand as much as he was able. “You really liked that, huh? You want a reward? Want all these people to see what good boys get?”
Bucky’s earlier worries about being naked floated right out of his head, wanting the release more than he cared about what anybody else thought. He nodded, then whimpered as Steve undid the confines of the leather, wrapping his big hand around Bucky’s cock and starting to pump him, the sweat and moisture gathered there proving to be more than enough lubrication for their purposes.
Bucky was already halfway gone, really, and he got a little fuzzy as his head fell back onto Steve’s shoulder. “Please, Daddy, please, please…” he begged, letting Steve bear the brunt of his weight as his knees buckled.
“Please what, baby?” Steve replied, biting down on the meat of Bucky’s neck, twisting his wrist in a way that made him yelp.
“Wanna come, Daddy, please…?” He begged. Steve didn’t usually make him ask for permission, but sometimes Bucky liked getting it anyway.
“Mmm,” Steve considered, his right hand slowing imperceptibly as he shifted his body to pull most of Bucky’s weight onto his slightly bent left leg. He moved his left hand up to tug on the chain between the nipple clamps, whispering low into Bucky’s ear. “Tell you what, pal. You can come, but when you do, I’m gonna pull these right off. And it’s gonna hurt like hell.”
Bucky whimpered. It wasn’t dignified, but sometimes Steve made things sound so wonderfully scary. “I don’t care, I like it, Stevie,” he whined. “Pleeeease?”
“Since you asked so nicely,” Steve said, his hand picking up its ministrations again. Bucky came soon after, shooting arcs of spunk onto his stomach as well as Steve’s hand. His boyfriend was true to his word, yanking on the clamps as soon as Bucky’s release hit him, pulling them off in one swift, torturous motion.
Bucky howled, the sound ripping through the room as tears pricked his eyes and his whole body convulsed. “Ow, ow...fuck...fucking fuck…”
Nobody ever said he was eloquent. The sensations were too much - the thrill of the orgasm mingling with the pain in his chest combining to send him right into that fuzzy place where everything was happy and Steve would take care of him.
“My good, good boy,” Steve murmured, arms closing around him tightly, still holding him up. “I’m so proud of you, Bucky.”
For once, Bucky was disinclined to argue.
Steve moved quickly after that, reaching up to release Bucky’s wrists, helping him to lower his arms before easing him down to sit on the floor. “Sit tight, pretty,” he murmured, going to his duffel, where he produced Bucky’s favorite blanket from home. Steve Rogers was a fucking miracle worker, Bucky decided, as the blanket was draped over his shoulders. Blissed out, he watched as Steve cleaned up the mess they’d made, wiping down the equipment with some sort of cleaning solution and putting the floggers back in his bag. After that, he cleaned Bucky up and removed the cuffs, getting him back into his clothing before helping him to his feet and wrapping the blanket around him once more.
“You want to go lie down?” he asked.
“Uh huh,” Bucky agreed, not up to much more conversation than that. His voice sometimes deserted him in the aftermath of particularly intense play. He followed Steve back to the common area, where he curled up on one of the sofas, eyes closing. Steve, promising he’d be right back, returned a minute later with a cup of water and a cookie. Bucky was very, very happy with the preschool snacks.
After he’d eaten, Steve coaxed him to lie back down, letting Bucky drop his head into his lap as he ran his fingers through his hair. It was almost a mirror of what they’d been doing in that room before, but Bucky was in a much different headspace. In fact, he was still dopey an hour later when they were in a taxi going home.
He was dopey as Steve undressed him and got him into his pajamas, and he was extra snuggly when Steve got into bed beside him. They slept for a little while, though Bucky woke up around two in the morning and found Steve already awake, e-reader softly illuminating his features. He was a terrible insomniac sometimes, but Bucky didn’t really mind. Not when he still felt so sweet and pliant and happy.
“Hi,” Steve said, noticing Bucky’s eyes on him.
“Hi,” Bucky replied, butting his head into Steve’s side, which was apparently indication enough that he wanted to be pulled in for a hug. Steve obliged, wrapping him up and pressing a few kisses to his temple. Bucky sighed contentedly, going quiet for a few moments.
“Hey, Stevie?” he said eventually.
“Yeah, Buck?”
“I think I believe in subspace now.”