Chapter Text
Something had uncurled inside Bucky.
It was nothing he’d be able to put his finger on. Didn’t even want to, really, because the specifics didn’t matter. It just was. A feeling of calm that started deep in his bones, that trailed through his veins into every nook and crevice of his body, that cradled and settled him.
Steve was watching the news. Bucky was watching Steve.
The couch under his back was comfortable, Steve’s thigh on top of his toes warm. Firm and steady. Bucky was aware of every breath, his gaze wandering over the angles of Steve’s face that had become familiar, that finally felt like they were ingrained into his being again.
He belonged here. With that mountain of muscle and bashful smiles over there, with his baby blue eyes, his genuineness, stubbornness and beauty, inside and out.
He finally belonged again.
“Do you want to watch something else after this?”
Steve had been patient with him, so patient, though it would have been difficult to miss that what Bucky had told him earlier had stayed on his mind throughout the afternoon.
Steve gave him a smile, just a subtle quirk of his lips, so innocent and warm that it made it impossible for Bucky not to smile back at him. His chest felt wide, a softness there that he’d had to relearn, and it was still a feeling he had to examine from all sides from time to time to understand it.
Eventually he gave a small shake of his head. “Not really.”
Steve’s brows went up, just a fraction, slowly, and the smile quirked upwards at one corner of his mouth into a tiny, questioning smirk. “Anything else?”
Bucky sat up, bending his knees and folding his arms around them. The movement brought him much closer to Steve, close enough almost that all he’d have to do was stretch his neck and tilt his head a little more.
“There kind of was, yes.”
Steve was still looking at him with raised brows, but there was something other than that playful spark sneaking onto his features, something much more gentle and serious. He leaned in towards Bucky, the distance between their lips just a hand’s breadth. Gaze wandering from his eyes down to his lips, a puff of breath against his cheek as Steve’s lips came closer.
Then he got up from the couch in an unhurried movement and held one hand out for Bucky to take it. “Come on then.”
Bucky took his hand without hesitation, let himself be drawn up to his feet. Their fingers entwined instinctively, and something fluttered in his chest at the way Steve looked at him.
This was his. His.
His fingers tightened between Steve’s as he followed him into their bedroom, not even a little nervous. And there, with the bedside lamp switched on by Steve, they stood in front of each other, a step away from the bed, and Steve just looked at him for a long moment, gaze drinking him in.
The blue of his eyes was so familiar, even while that gaze in itself wasn’t. Bucky remembered those same eyes from years and years ago, from another life, one where Steve was still small and the world very different.
“Don’t get cold feet on me now,” he said when the silence began to stretch, a tiny smile flickering over his lips.
It was mirrored on Steve’s, a bit more playfulness in it, and he took one step closer. “I’m not,” he said, voice low, quiet and warm. Then, his hands reached for the hem of Bucky’s t-shirt, lifting it slowly. The knuckles brushing up his skin sent sparks up his spine as they pulled the fabric away and over his head. Bucky shuddered, and he let himself, closed his eyes and focussed on the hands landing lightly on his hips, thumbs brushing over his waist. He reached out blindly to steady himself on Steve’s shoulders, breathing slowly.
When he opened his eyes again, he could see Steve still looking at him, his gaze following the miniscule movements of his fingers on Bucky’s naked skin, just tracing upward in feather-light touches, before he leaned in. Bucky could feel warm breath on his face, could gaze into Steve’s still open eyes, see his lips part as they came closer until they barely brushed his, the ghost of a kiss lingering on his mouth for a long moment.
He wondered if Steve was nervous.
Bucky took another half step closer and brought their lips together fully, his right arm winding slowly around Steve’s neck while the left fell down to grasp his hip. Steve still tasted the same, still kissed the same, and for a moment Bucky wondered again how he’d been able to go so long without this. How rarely he’d even thought of this. Now it filled all his senses and he wanted to do this for hours and hours, and it wasn’t even all.
Everything he had read came back to his mind, everything he’d seen that night, and it made his hips tilt forward of their own accord, made him deepen the kiss and his heart rate pick up.
Steve returned the kiss with the same intensity, let his lips slide against Bucky’s, the tip of his tongue meet his own with the softest of touches. But then he reached down for Bucky’s hands, took them into his as he tilted his hips back and brought distance between them. It occurred to Bucky, from the way Steve held his hands, the way their lips were still locked in a gentle but intense, slow kiss, that Steve was not nervous at all, not in the least bit, every of his moves deliberate and assured. Then, the contact of their lips was broken as well, and Steve took a half step back and looked down at their entwined hands.
“Is this okay now?” he asked softly, raising Bucky’s metal hand in his own for a fraction.
Warmth bled through his chest again, because Steve was still so careful, so aware of this. But Bucky only nodded, because, while he might still mourn the fact that he’d never be able to touch Steve with two hands made of flesh and blood, warm and soft, he wanted to leave that decision to him now.
If Steve was okay with it, then so was Bucky.
And Steve seemed more than okay with it, determined to make Bucky sure of that fact. He lifted the hand up to his face, gaze holding Bucky’s as he gently kissed the metal knuckles. His other hand was on Bucky’s stomach now, a barely-there touch of fingertips against his naked skin before he leaned in, kissed Bucky’s mouth again, kissed his neck, touched his sides, arms, shoulders. Softly, patiently.
Bucky only stood there and let it happen. His eyes wanted to flutter close, every touch registering on his skin, every single one going deeper than just one layer.
And he wasn’t afraid. Steve had reminded him, had made him relearn that touch could be like this, that it was possible to have nothing cold or rough or violent about it. Even when he closed his eyes his mind didn’t put him anywhere that wasn’t here, now. He was with Steve, and Steve’s touch was like an anchor, gave him safety and security.
They found their way to the bed eventually, only in their underpants, their clothes more or less neatly thrown over a chair. Steve was above him, weight resting on one hand as he let the other resume its earlier caresses, lips following the trail with gentle devotion, making Bucky shiver softly under the touches, because they were so… so good. Steve looked up from a kiss to a spot above Bucky’s bellybutton, and his hand reached up, fingertips running along the edge of Bucky’s jawline to his chin, lips.
Bucky hadn’t thought that feeling was possible, making him so light, so… boundless. He turned his face into Steve’s hand, pressed his lips against his palm, over lines and small bumps, up his fingers while his feet slid along Steve’s legs.
He wanted him closer.
Without thinking Bucky reached out to touch Steve’s hair, those blond strands that felt so soft under his hand, and brushed another kiss against the heel of Steve’s hand.
There was a smile on Steve’s lips now as he raised his head, just the tiniest of movements around his lips but more prominent in his gaze. He came up to bring them both to the same height, caressing the side of his face and looking down into Bucky’s eyes tenderly, lovingly.
“You look beautiful like this, you know that?”
It was ridiculous, what Steve was able to do with him.
“How ‘m I supposed to know that?” Bucky heard himself answer, unable to look away from the blue of Steve’s eyes, dark in the warm glow.
It let a soft chuckle come over Steve’s lips before he brought them down to Bucky’s, the contact light, breath ghosting against the skin above his lip before Steve inhaled more deeply and kissed him with growing intensity. The weight of his body only half supported by one arm, Steve pushed his hips closer, and the next breath that left him was a half-sigh, caught by Bucky’s lips.
He was rather sure being kissed by Steve was something he was never going to stop loving.
With only a small upward nudge of his lower body their hips met, sending sparks of arousal through him, coming out as a shivered breath in their kiss. Bucky’s thighs instinctively slid up to frame Steve’s hips, pull him closer, and suddenly that thought was back of what they wanted to do, were going to do, and his heart stuttered because the thought of Steve… inside him…
There was a soft sound in their kiss, and it took Bucky a moment to realise it was his, before a very similar one - hoarse and trembling - came from Steve. He broke the kiss just a moment later, and looked down into Bucky’s eyes. The warmth and tenderness in his gaze had been joined by hunger and impatience.
“You still want to do this?”
“Yes,” Bucky replied without hesitation, reaching up to run his fingers through Steve’s hair. His body was tingling, brimming, lit up in a way he couldn’t remember even with all those memories that had come back so far. “Yes…”
Steve gave Bucky a smile, the hunger as visible in it as it was in his gaze. He leaned back, sitting on his heels as his hands slid down Bucky’s chest, fingertips sending a tingling feeling over his skin, and Bucky raised his hips, arched his back as Steve pulled his boxer briefs down. Just a second later, he felt those amazing lips on his skin again, his abdomen, hip, upper thigh. A hand on him, stroking up his cock once to come to rest above his hipbone. It was the first time Steve seemed just the smallest bit nervous and unsure, pulling his lower lip in with his teeth around a tiny, bashful smile.
Not that there was any reason for that, Bucky thought. And yet, Steve, like this, was a thing of beauty.
He couldn’t wait to see what he’d look like later.
“Don’t think there’s anything you could do wrong, you know?”
A small laugh came over Steve’s lips, and he lowered his gaze for a moment before he crawled back up, leaning half above Bucky, half on his side. “Yeah I’m not sure about that. But I’ll try my best.”
“Steve…” Bucky reached up, after a moment’s hesitation with both hands, to frame Steve’s face with a careful touch, holding his gaze. “Trust me on this, okay? I mean it.”
“Okay,” Steve just replied, the expression on his features a mix of amused, bashful, touched.
“Alright, where did you put the…” he started asking, already reaching for the nightstand and opening the top drawer. When he turned back to Bucky, the bottle of lube in one hand, the nervous look on his face was replaced by one of concentration. “You tell me if something doesn’t feel right, okay?”
Bucky felt a small smile flickering over his lips in reply. He could get lost in this, and he was pretty sure he was going to. Just watching Steve.
It didn’t even feel strange, the slick pressure, the careful touches, the gentle fingers. Just new. Bucky watched Steve, his fixed point, and this he remembered… knowing how it was a little ridiculous, the way he watched him like he’d hung the sun and the stars.
Steve watched him, too, seemed to study each expression on his face, careful as he slid a second finger into him, brow furrowed in concentration. “How does that feel?” he wanted to know.
A small grin curled on Bucky’s lips and he replied, “Want me to draw you a diagram?”
Steve kicked Bucky lightly, playfully against his shin, but he grinned down at him, radiant despite the mock-exasperated rolling of his eyes. “Funny,” he said dryly before he continued his movements, still careful but with growing eagerness. The angle of his fingers shifted then, and suddenly a jolt went through Bucky, taking him off guard for a moment, an insistent strike of arousal that uncurled all sorts of desires.
“Oh, so that works then,” Steve remarked, surprise in his tone, barely recognisable, but a pleased look on his face before he curled his fingers again, pulling a gasp from Bucky’s lungs.
He couldn’t have come up with any kind of comeback right then, because his mind was struggling to catch up with what his body was doing. For the first time the instinct to fight what was happening resurfaced, because it was something he didn't know, something he couldn't find the right response to, couldn't control. But this was what he wanted, exactly what he wanted, what he had looked for.
When Steve did it again, Bucky’s eyes fell shut and his toes curled into the mattress, and all he could think in that moment, with his heart rate picking up and his head getting light, was that he wanted more of this, much more, for Steve to take him apart like this until he wouldn’t even be able to think.
There was just a tiny bit of stinging pressure when a third finger slid in, but that tingling, pleasant feeling was back a second later. Steve kissed his face, cheeks, chin, side of his mouth, and the fingers of his other hand gently raked through Bucky’s hair, sending an amazing shudder down his spine.
“That enough?”
Bucky’s reply came delayed, his senses too focused on touch for him to realise right away what Steve was saying. He hummed, stretched into the touches until Steve made his back arch again with his fingers and Bucky remembered to talk.
“Oh… no… what? Yes!”
A soft, breathy chuckle came over Steve’s lips, and he stilled the movements of his fingers. “Yes?” he asked again and when Bucky nodded, pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth as he carefully withdrew his fingers.
There was the sound of a drawer opening, some rustling and Steve shifting on the bed next to him, a tiny curse - more amused than annoyed - when Steve rolled the condom on with unpractised fingers. It probably wasn’t necessary for them but was supposed to make things a little easier. When he was done, Steve slid back between Bucky’s thighs, leaning above him, weight just supported on his elbows and lower arms but their bodies touching chest to chest, middle to middle. There was a gentleness in his gaze again, amidst abashment and hunger, and the fingers of his right hand were caressing Bucky’s face and hair.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
A part of Bucky couldn’t either. This had been so long in the making, so long without them even really knowing, certainly without Steve knowing. And Bucky hadn’t ever really thought it possible, not until he had realised for the first time that they could actually be okay.
“Yeah… me neither,” Bucky replied quietly, eyes fixed on Steve’s, feeling a small, warm smile flicker over his lips.
He’d been so lost, for so long, and somehow he still had the most beautiful man in the world looking at him like this, touching him like this.
It was nothing he thought he deserved, but Bucky was still going to take it.
“Come on,” he urged calmly, his hips pushing against Steve’s body.
“Okay,” Steve nodded, the smile on his lips slowly fading, concentration taking its place as he shifted and brought one hand between them. And then, finally, very slowly and very carefully, he pushed in, past the tightness that twitched around him at the unfamiliar sensation. “You okay?”
“Yes, but you can stop asking now ‘cause I don’t think I’ll be able to reply for much longer.”
Bucky could feel it already, how he zoned back in on what he was feeling, words threatening to fall by the wayside. He was… Steve was… inside him. It took his breath away, the feeling of connection alone, to be this close to someone, and it sent his emotions into overdrive.
Bucky tried to breathe deeply, arms winding around Steve’s shoulders, legs around his waist.
This is real, it’s real, real, real…
“God, Bucky,” Steve sighed close to his ear, leaning into the embrace, entering him deeper. He was still holding back, still giving him time to adjust, more than he actually needed. And that was so Steve, so much like him. He brushed his lips against Bucky’s, breathed into the contact and then, at last, kissed him deeply. His hips moved back, moved forward again in a fluid, slow push, and he became more eager with every following one.
“I thought about this. Lots of times, you know?” he said softly, his words paused only by the still slow rhythm. “I had no idea it’d feel this amazing.”
The words felt like water after a drought. His breath hitched, fingers tightened on Steve’s shoulders. “Tell me… please…”
Steve thrust forward again, a little quicker, deeper this time, and his eyes fluttered shut as his lips fell open with a soundless sigh.
“I thought… I thought you’d want to do it,” he said eventually, and it was obvious that it cost him quite some control to get the words out, his hips still moving in that slow rhythm of thrust and pause. Breathe and speak. “You still can if you want to. Next time. I… Jesus, Buck. I had no idea.” The last words ended in a moan, low and trembling, and he brought his lips to Bucky’s, an open-mouthed kiss, tip of tongue against his bottom lip, before Steve’s sealed his completely and he inhaled, deep and hitched, through his nostrils the moment his body jerked forward, much deeper and harder than before.
Despite his request, Bucky was barely aware of what Steve was saying. But he latched onto his voice, his tone, the hitch in his breath like he held on to his shoulders and hips, never wanting to let go again as they rocked together for what could have been ages. At some point his eyes had fallen shut, leaving him in warm shades of darkness and his body floating in the most beautiful feeling he could remember. Like nothing was ever going to reach him again, nothing could touch him, no one but Steve.
And Steve did just that, in his thoughts and heart as much as his body when he brought a hand between them and closed it around Bucky’s erection. It was then, with the touch drawing his attention to it, that Bucky realised how close Steve probably was, fully noticed the small gasps and panted breaths that left him. The rhythm of his thrusts was still controlled, deliberately slow but intense and speeding up with every passing second.
Bucky had no idea how long they’d been doing this. Only that it was hard to form any thought at all, and he had to chase them to grasp even one. His body felt vulnerably sensitive, strung tight, the hand between his legs making him shudder and arch, pulling on his strings in the best possible way.
And then he did remember what he wanted to say, what he had to say.
“Steve…”
Was that really his voice?
“I… I already loved you, way back when… Always have…”
A helpless sound left Steve, a sigh, trembling, drawn out, completely wrecked, and he pressed his eyes shut for a second, stilled in all his movements but that of his hand. Then he looked down into Bucky’s eyes again, his own shining in the warm light. “Bucky…”
Bucky blinked, tried to focus, his vision filled with Steve’s face, with his bright blue eyes. He was dizzy, and his vision had narrowed in on that face above his, enough that he couldn’t even see anything else. The hand stroking him made him push his hips up helplessly, caught between both sensations, up into Steve’s hand, back against his hips.
“God, Bucky, I’m…” Another trembling, long moan left Steve, and he was blinking rapidly against the urge to let his eyes fall shut as the words hoarsely stumbled from his lips. “Oh God, you’re so… you’re so beautiful. I love you, love you so much. Bucky, I’m… Jesus I can’t…”
The movements of his hand became more erratic, almost desperately trying to bring Bucky to the same release that Steve was so close to, and a new, violent shudder went through his body. Bucky reached up without thinking, curled his fingers around Steve’s neck and pulled him down for a kiss.
The thrusts became uncoordinated, frenzied, heat washed over Bucky like a wave and he slipped back under, with no control over himself left. It was intoxicating and beautiful, heart-wrenching and mind-numbing.
Bucky was shivering - moments later, minutes, he had no idea - when real awareness returned to him. He blinked, soft, panted breaths giving him oxygen. Steve’s weight was on him, still cradled by his arms and legs, but his head was buried against Bucky’s neck, gasping for breath there. Bucky felt almost disoriented, couldn’t stop the tremors from running through his body that was doing things that almost scared him.
Only Steve’s weight, his scent, his incredible warmth managed to keep him calm. Steve lifted his head, cheeks pink, lips parted, brow sweaty. The look in his eyes was like nothing Bucky had ever seen before or could remember, nothing he could even grasp fully or describe. Happiness, for sure, but somewhere underneath the ghost of sadness, of grief and loss that had been made up for by gain which found its outlet in a trembling breath - different from the ones driven mainly by arousal just now. There was a twitching around his lower lip and chin before he pressed his lips to Bucky’s, no lust, but nevertheless a need in the kiss that made Bucky unable to do anything but return it instinctively. It was unsteady, and he still hadn't managed to get a grasp on all the ways his body had slipped his control, so exposing and overwhelming.
When their lips parted and Steve looked at him again, happiness and relief were most prominent on his features, accentuated by a tiny quirk upwards at one corner of his mouth. Another kiss - short but sweet - followed. “I’ll be right back.”
Despite his words there was a small, short surge of anxiety when Steve vanished from his side just for a moment, but his heart calmed back down the second he returned. Steve cleaned them both up quickly with steady, gentle hands before he laid back down, at Bucky's side, their legs loosely entwined.
A short, huffed out chuckle came over Steve’s lips. “So this really happened then.”
Bucky's heart was back to beating slowly now that Steve's legs tangled with his, that they touched again, that his vision was filled again with those eyes like the sky and that smile like the sun.
"I think so?"
Another breathy half-laugh, and Steve shook his head softly before his gaze turned more serious again, one hand caressing the skin under Bucky’s collarbone. “You alright?”
Bucky thought he was. The trembling had finally left his body, he was warm and comfortable and safe. His gaze trailed over the lines of Steve's eyes, his lips, his jaw, following down his neck to his chest where he placed his fingers, skin and muscles under his hand heated and strong. A heartbeat, thumping away slowly like the most reassuring thing on earth.
There was just one, only the one thing he needed to hear.
"Is this real?" Bucky whispered, gaze flickering back up to those blue eyes.
A second’s confusion flickered over Steve’s face, but then he smiled, understanding and assuring.
“Yes,” he said, tone gentle but firm. “It’s real, Bucky.”
After long, long moments of just looking into those blue eyes, Bucky let out a soft breath. He slid closer and buried himself against Steve's chest, breathed him in and let strong arms fold around his body to hold him close.
Bucky believed him.