Tabula Rasa; Chapter 3: Exchange
[INFO]
Title: Tabula Rasa
Author: Del Rion (delrion.mail (at) gmail.com)
Fandom: Captain America: The Winter Soldier & Iron Man (MCU)
Genre: Drama, erotica
Rating: MA / FRAO
Characters: James “Bucky” Barnes (Winter Soldier), J.A.R.V.I.S., Tony Stark (Iron Man). Mentioned: Steve Rogers (Captain America)
Pairing: Bucky/Tony
Summary: The Winter Soldier is en-route to figuring out who he is and makes a pit stop at the Avengers Tower, looking for a safe place to get a good night’s sleep. His host’s initial lack of trust is, surprisingly, mollified by the metal arm HYDRA gave him, and the Winter Soldier finds himself at a newfound realization that he’s a free man and as such he can do what he wants, when he wants, with whomever he wants. Tony Stark’s presence is simply convenient - or so he tells himself.
Complete.
Written for: Marvel Bang 2014. (marvel-bang)
Also fills a square on my card on Kink Bingo’s round 6 (square: “mechanical / technological”)
Artist: Suku (sukuiddo @ Tumblr / allyoucaneater) [ART @ AO3 ♥]
Warnings: Sexual content (M/M, sexual technophilia, hand jobs, oral sex, anal fingering & anal sex), language. Implied: canonical violence, mind control & brainwashing.
~ ~ ~
Chapter 3: Exchange
Stark didn’t protest, which Bucky took as a good sign; a promising sign, with the possibility of cooperation.
Bucky was aware of something stirring within his own body in response to the other man’s sexual excitement. It was a sensation he didn’t remember feeling before, yet it wasn’t unfamiliar, either. A ghost from his old life - the life he couldn’t recall, but which occasionally felt like it belonged to him anyway.
A life where this had been normal, perhaps? Would Bucky Barnes have known what to say next, or do?
The Smithsonian hadn’t managed to educate him on that front and he doubted it could have, either; this seemed like something deeply personal, which only he would know. Or, the man he used to be. It was confusing, and that must have shown on his face because Stark’s expression sharpened again and his hand moved, settling on top of Bucky’s on his thigh.
“Do you even know what you want?” Stark asked. His tone wasn’t condescending or mocking, surprisingly enough.
“Yes,” Bucky snapped at him.
A frown met his sharp reply. “You look a little lost,” Stark observed. “I don’t think this is a good id-”
The sudden pressure of his fingers around Stark’s private parts was perhaps a bit too tight, cutting him off mid-sentence. Bucky felt a tug on his metal arm, Stark’s grip attempting to remove it from its position, but he resisted.
“I know what I want,” Bucky told him, although he wasn’t entirely sure. However, he wasn’t about to tell Stark that, and the way his own groin was starting to throb and heat up, he supposed he was going to figure it out soon enough.
“Okay,” Stark said haltingly, looking a little twitchy. “Whatever it is you want, how about you lose the death-grip down there; I’m losing circulation, I think, and not in the sexy way.” His fingers tugged at Bucky’s metal ones, not urgently but with a certain familiarity, as if this weren’t the first time he got his junk caught in a mechanical trap.
Bucky loosened the hold fractionally, then on a whim rubbed his fingers back and forth, like one might to soothe an irritation. Stark’s breath caught in his throat at that and he shifted his weight marginally on the stool, pushing towards his hand. “You want this,” Bucky observed, shifting his hand to press his thumb along the length of Stark’s hardened cock. The sensation was disappointing but his eyes drank it all in before he raised his gaze, leaving his thumb to rub in slow circles that were definitely undoing the last of Stark’s resistance.
“Something like that,” the other man admitted. He looked a little flushed and his hips lightly undulated into Bucky’s touch. It couldn’t be entirely pleasant, the hardness of the metal, but he supposed that was part of the thrill for Stark. “What do you want, Barnes?” Stark asked then, a little impatient.
Bucky thought about it. There was data missing, most certainly, because he didn’t have a clear answer ready in his mind. Part of him felt like there should have been an answer - a flood of images and ghost sensations, memories and fantasies. He had instinctively known where to put his hand on Stark’s body to have the desired effect, and he guessed having the other do the same for him would be pleasant. Those hands that had worked to secure his injured arm and explored the mechanical one…
Stark’s hands would be good, he decided. Better than a random pull of his own, whenever he had felt an itch before it passed a second later, like it wasn’t necessary. It hadn’t been necessary until now, because now he could do what he wanted, and perhaps part of that freedom was the ability to ask for what he selfishly wanted to indulge in.
Not knowing how to ask for it in a way that didn’t reveal just how clueless he was, Bucky reached out and grabbed Stark’s left wrist, bringing his hand to his crotch, pointedly pressing it towards him until it began to feel good.
Stark chuckled. “Mutual masturbation, huh? Reminds you of the good ol’ times?”
Bucky frowned, unsure what he meant by it. Stark didn’t elaborate, though, and Bucky let it go as irrelevant commentary. His lack of response had no effect, either, because Stark wriggled his hand and effortlessly slid his fingers beneath the towel, a calloused grip taking Bucky’s cock firmly in hand.
The direct touch felt much better than pressure, and then Stark slid his fingers along the whole length of him, twisting just a little as if to see what would happen if he did. The throbbing sensation grew and Bucky decided he definitely liked it, which made him a little regretful that he hadn’t tried it himself. It had just never occurred to him that he could.
“You look so surprised,” Stark mused, the tug of his wrist transforming into a light tease back towards the base.
Bucky, who still had a hold of his wrist, squeezed in warning. “Shut up,” he muttered.
“Are you sure you’ve done this before?” Stark went on, his fingers properly wrapping around him again.
“What do you think?” Bucky growled while he enjoyed the light tug of Stark’s touch on the skin of his cock.
“Why do you think I’m asking?” Stark noted and sat up a little, his hand stilling.
“Don’t stop,” Bucky ordered and tried using his own hand to make him keep moving, but it wasn’t nearly as good.
“Bucky,” Stark said sharply and used his free hand to grab onto Bucky’s right one, “I’m not sure we should do this.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not sure if you’re really on board with this.”
Bucky felt like punching him again - and rubbing his hard dick in his face because that should have been a sign that he was on board with this. “Didn’t take you for a dame,” he huffed.
“I’m trying to be a responsible adult,” Stark snapped. “Also, try to refrain from saying that to a woman because times have changed since the 1930s.”
Bucky huffed and tried to manipulate Stark’s hand into stroking him again - unsuccessfully. It was starting to piss him off and he glowered at the other man, barely resisting the temptation to tighten his metal fingers around him until he did what Bucky wanted. “Didn’t come here for a history lesson,” he snapped then and curled his metal fingers over the top of Stark’s jeans, pulling him forward with a hard tug. The stool tipped and Stark hurriedly jumped to his feet before he fell down. With one of his hands still caught in Bucky’s grip, the other man was forced to lean on him to keep his balance.
An irate look passed Stark’s features. “Let go,” he ordered - but failed to specify which hand he was talking about; the one at the waistline of his jeans, of the one holding his hand captive against Bucky’s cock.
“Would you rather I let you fall?” he challenged.
Stark snorted. “I’m not convinced you would know what to do with me on my knees.”
That gave Bucky an idea - and idea he hadn’t previously considered. “Maybe I would,” he stated out loud and yanked Stark an inch closer. “Maybe if you do that,” he went on, “I’ll be extra… thorough with this,” he concluded, shifting the fingers of his left hand where they curled firmly against the other man’s abdomen, so close to what Stark wanted and yet not quite so.
He could see the gears turning in Stark’s head. It didn’t take him half as long as most people to make up his mind, and it said a lot about his character and life experience that he demanded neither clarification nor elaboration before he began lowering himself to the floor and Bucky needed to release him in order to let him finish his descent.
Bucky held his breath for a moment, feeling like he was in unfamiliar territory again. He had a vague idea of what was going to happen soon, but he could conjure up no real images from his past. It irritated him, the not knowing, especially when his gut told him the ignorance was false and his stomach tightened in anticipation as Stark pushed the towel aside to bare his crotch.
Brown eyes checked his face, briefly, as if looking for indecision.
Bucky slid his right hand into Stark’s hair and pulled his face closer, to make a point even though he wouldn’t have known what to do himself. Stark, however, had no such problems: his eyelids lowered, a hand moving to grasp Bucky’s cock by the base, and then his lips were around him, tongue swiping over the sensitive head, and Bucky’s fingers tightened fractionally at the sensation.
It was almost too much, all at once. At the same time, he wanted more of it - just like when Stark’s hand had been around him, making him feel good. His mouth was warm and wet, lips a firm pressure as he sucked, tongue dragging against the underside… Bucky shifted his fingers, rubbing them against Stark’s scalp, knowing he didn’t want to make a wrong move right now and give the impression he wasn’t enjoying it.
Stark shifted after a while and pushed forward, taking him a lot deeper. Bucky felt the slight bump against the back of his throat, which caused a squeezing reaction for a bit. Stark’s breath hitched, his jaw flexing, just a hint of teeth pressing against Bucky like a warning before he opened his jaw wider and pushed forward again.
Bucky closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation. He knew Stark was making an effort, taking his cock deeper than was comfortable and easy. It felt amazing, when the other man’s lips began nearing the very base of his cock, and Bucky had to give into the urge to watch. He wanted to reach down, to try and feel his hard flesh inside the other man, but he wasn’t sure he could and a wrong move on his part might leave him with teeth-marks on his dick.
Stark’s eyelids fluttered, his face a little flushed. He glanced up, quick as lightning, then drew back a lot quicker than he had moved forward, a small cough escaping him before he was all the way off Bucky’s cock, a thick string of saliva sticking to his lips before being pulled down by gravity.
Bucky moved his free hand instinctively, catching the escaping wetness with his metal fingers. He could not feel the slickness, but Stark’s eyes were instantly on it, his hot breaths caressing Bucky’s cock as he hovered an inch from it, his lips so close, open and inviting… Bucky wanted to use the hand in his hair to pull him forward, just as he wanted to smear the wetness all over his face and that immaculately trimmed goatee that was begging to be soiled. Those thoughts felt primal and he was happy to have them, seeing as primal he could deal with. The Soldier had often worked under the most primitive of orders, following his instincts to reach his goal, and he felt at ease when there were only feelings such as these instead of flashes of knowledge he did not understand.
He pushed his slick fingers along Stark’s jawline, his thumb shifting up to the slightly parted lips. His eyes could see the way the metal pressed into the plump, slightly swollen flesh before pushing forward. Stark’s tongue had felt unyielding against his dick, but against Bucky’s thumb it was helpless, pinned down when he pressed against it.
Stark let out a small sound, little more than a loud breath, but it was not resistance and Bucky filed it away. He would have loved to go on, to have Stark suck his metal fingers although he could not really feel it - which would be reason enough to test whether he could push his fingers as far down Stark’s throat as he had with his cock earlier. If he did that, though, his throbbing length would be left unattended, and he didn’t want that.
Slowly he pulled his thumb from the man’s mouth and simultaneously pulled him forward with the hand in his hair. Stark acquiesced willingly, suckling the head of his cock before taking in another inch, then another - whatever he could comfortably take into his mouth.
It was good and Bucky itched to rock into it, but he didn’t want to upset the balance now that he was getting what he wanted and allowed his fingers to ease their hold on the dark hair, rubbing again, wordlessly trying to communicate his preferences to Stark. It worked, he noticed - and he also noticed the faint shiver that went down Stark’s body when his fingers pressed against his scalp in a certain way, so he tried to keep doing that whenever Stark sucked and licked him particularly nicely, finding a few spots that were swiftly becoming his favorites.
Stark took him deeper a few times, but either it didn’t feel good to him or there was something wrong with the angle because he didn’t stay there. Bucky didn’t complain: he liked the rest of it just fine, the attention Stark could lavish at the head of his cock, and the way he rubbed against Stark’s tongue, the inside of his cheek or the particularly delicious brush against the roof of his mouth.
When his pleasure began to tighten, anticipation coiling within him, Bucky grew a little anxious. He almost pulled back to fist his cock in his own hand, which felt like the thing to do in order to reach whatever he wanted to reach right now, but he didn’t want to leave Stark’s mouth either. Disappointed at the dilemma, Bucky shifted his left hand and curled his fingers against Stark’s jaw, feeling the faint bump of his cockhead through the skin of his cheek. He could almost rub himself like that, if he wanted to, but then he thought of something else and shifted his hand to slip his thumb inside, beside his cock.
Stark definitely made a sound at that and stilled for a moment, as if to see what Bucky were doing.
Frowning at the interruption, Bucky’s right hand urged Stark to keep moving while his left adjusted to gingerly grip Stark’s jaw while his thumb was still inside, poking at his own cock and giving it just a bit more contact. He pressed against the digit, shifting it up against the roof of Stark’s mouth, making the other man twitch. Bucky ran his tongue against the roof of his own mouth and guessed it was ticklish there.
Stark slowly resumed tonguing and sucking his cock, trying to work around Bucky’s finger. Before long, Bucky decided adding his thumb wasn’t making things better, so he pulled it back out, sliding it along Stark’s lower lip. It was easy, then, to settle his thumb down against his lip and teeth, pressing his jaw down and give his cock more freedom to move in and out, Bucky’s hips instinctively moving to compensate for Stark’s restrained motions. It was limited, with Bucky still sitting on the stool, but he got an inch deeper when he pulled Stark just a little forward, rocking against the back of his mouth until he felt heat and pressure pulsing within him and his cock jerked, over and over, releasing his seed.
It was mesmerizing and confusing because he felt like he should have known that feeling, yet it felt like a breeze shifting cobwebs around in his mind, whispering and taunting. Bucky tried to follow the faint trail to something concrete, but then Stark’s hands came up to pull at his and he snapped out of it, pulling his thumb away and uncurling his fingers from his jaw.
Stark sputtered and snorted, then spat out a mouthful of spunk on the floor between them as he fought to breathe. Bucky supposed he had blocked his airway for a moment.
He let his right hand drop from Stark’s hair, fully intending to give him a moment, but it was too alluring to trail his fingers along a stray line of spit and cum on his chin, mixing it and making the mess worse instead of wiping it away. Stark eventually slapped his hand away and got up on shaky feet, reaching out for a towel on a table next to them. The towel was far from clean but it wiped away the worst of the mess.
“Satisfied?” Stark asked him, giving him a look.
Bucky shrugged his left shoulder and used the towel he was sitting on to slowly wipe his spent cock. Stark’s eyes followed the motion as he clearly waited for something, and Bucky remembered that they’d had a deal. Stark had done his part, so it was Bucky’s turn to return the favor.
Letting go of the towel, he shifted on his seat, getting a bit more comfortable, and flexed the fingers of his left hand. As expected, Stark’s eyes followed the motion, and Bucky wondered what exactly it was he wanted the arm for.
“Your turn,” Bucky stated.
Stark swallowed, looking a bit uncertain but simultaneously coveting something he couldn’t say ‘no’ to. “How about we take this to the bedroom?” he suggested. “I’m too old to be fooling around in my workshop.”
Bucky shrugged again. “It’s your show.”
“Damn right it is,” Stark muttered, voice too low to be heard but Bucky’s enhanced hearing picked it up anyway. “Come on,” he urged then, motioning for Bucky to get up.
He did, picking up the towel and slinging it over his shoulder as he followed Stark out of the workshop and into the elevator nearby. Stark selected the floor above Bucky’s room - one of the heavily restricted areas on the map - and the doors slid shut without a sound, the elevator moving up smoothly.
Stark was visibly tense, clearly not knowing what to do with himself. Bucky figured he would come to a decision soon enough, but in case Stark had trouble making up his mind, he decided to help him along and shifted closer to him, naked body pressing against the clothed one - the metal arm sneaking around him and fingers curling around the visible bulge of his erection, forcing a sharp exhale out of Stark’s lungs.
Bucky resisted the completely irrelevant urge to kiss Stark’s neck as he waited for the elevator to come to a halt, his fingers slowly kneading the other’s cock and balls, luring Stark to rock into his hand. If the rest of the night went like this, it would be over quickly. A part of Bucky didn’t mind that at all, seeing as he needed to get some sleep eventually and this weird dance with Stark hadn’t been something he had been planning on when entering the Tower.
Yet there was a sharp, newborn thrill inside him that firmly believed he could draw this out. It tugged on a cord deep in his groin and made him rub against Stark’s clothed backside, just as his fingers pressed a little tighter, drawing a faint moan from Stark’s throat.
Sleep could wait for a few more hours, he decided.
to be continued…
...see all art here!
Story info
Author: Del Rion (delrion.mail (at) gmail.com)
Fandom: Captain America: The Winter Soldier & Iron Man (MCU)
Genre: Drama, erotica
Rating: MA / FRAO
Characters: James “Bucky” Barnes (Winter Soldier), J.A.R.V.I.S., Tony Stark (Iron Man). Mentioned: Steve Rogers (Captain America)
Pairing: Bucky/Tony
Summary: The Winter Soldier is en-route to figuring out who he is and makes a pit stop at the Avengers Tower, looking for a safe place to get a good night’s sleep. His host’s initial lack of trust is, surprisingly, mollified by the metal arm HYDRA gave him, and the Winter Soldier finds himself at a newfound realization that he’s a free man and as such he can do what he wants, when he wants, with whomever he wants. Tony Stark’s presence is simply convenient - or so he tells himself.
Complete.
Written for: Marvel Bang 2014. (marvel-bang)
Also fills a square on my card on Kink Bingo’s round 6 (square: “mechanical / technological”)
Artist: Suku (sukuiddo @ Tumblr / allyoucaneater) [ART @ AO3 ♥]
Warnings: Sexual content (M/M, sexual technophilia, hand jobs, oral sex, anal fingering & anal sex), language. Implied: canonical violence, mind control & brainwashing.
~ ~ ~
Chapter 3: Exchange
Stark didn’t protest, which Bucky took as a good sign; a promising sign, with the possibility of cooperation.
Bucky was aware of something stirring within his own body in response to the other man’s sexual excitement. It was a sensation he didn’t remember feeling before, yet it wasn’t unfamiliar, either. A ghost from his old life - the life he couldn’t recall, but which occasionally felt like it belonged to him anyway.
A life where this had been normal, perhaps? Would Bucky Barnes have known what to say next, or do?
The Smithsonian hadn’t managed to educate him on that front and he doubted it could have, either; this seemed like something deeply personal, which only he would know. Or, the man he used to be. It was confusing, and that must have shown on his face because Stark’s expression sharpened again and his hand moved, settling on top of Bucky’s on his thigh.
“Do you even know what you want?” Stark asked. His tone wasn’t condescending or mocking, surprisingly enough.
“Yes,” Bucky snapped at him.
A frown met his sharp reply. “You look a little lost,” Stark observed. “I don’t think this is a good id-”
The sudden pressure of his fingers around Stark’s private parts was perhaps a bit too tight, cutting him off mid-sentence. Bucky felt a tug on his metal arm, Stark’s grip attempting to remove it from its position, but he resisted.
“I know what I want,” Bucky told him, although he wasn’t entirely sure. However, he wasn’t about to tell Stark that, and the way his own groin was starting to throb and heat up, he supposed he was going to figure it out soon enough.
“Okay,” Stark said haltingly, looking a little twitchy. “Whatever it is you want, how about you lose the death-grip down there; I’m losing circulation, I think, and not in the sexy way.” His fingers tugged at Bucky’s metal ones, not urgently but with a certain familiarity, as if this weren’t the first time he got his junk caught in a mechanical trap.
Bucky loosened the hold fractionally, then on a whim rubbed his fingers back and forth, like one might to soothe an irritation. Stark’s breath caught in his throat at that and he shifted his weight marginally on the stool, pushing towards his hand. “You want this,” Bucky observed, shifting his hand to press his thumb along the length of Stark’s hardened cock. The sensation was disappointing but his eyes drank it all in before he raised his gaze, leaving his thumb to rub in slow circles that were definitely undoing the last of Stark’s resistance.
“Something like that,” the other man admitted. He looked a little flushed and his hips lightly undulated into Bucky’s touch. It couldn’t be entirely pleasant, the hardness of the metal, but he supposed that was part of the thrill for Stark. “What do you want, Barnes?” Stark asked then, a little impatient.
Bucky thought about it. There was data missing, most certainly, because he didn’t have a clear answer ready in his mind. Part of him felt like there should have been an answer - a flood of images and ghost sensations, memories and fantasies. He had instinctively known where to put his hand on Stark’s body to have the desired effect, and he guessed having the other do the same for him would be pleasant. Those hands that had worked to secure his injured arm and explored the mechanical one…
Stark’s hands would be good, he decided. Better than a random pull of his own, whenever he had felt an itch before it passed a second later, like it wasn’t necessary. It hadn’t been necessary until now, because now he could do what he wanted, and perhaps part of that freedom was the ability to ask for what he selfishly wanted to indulge in.
Not knowing how to ask for it in a way that didn’t reveal just how clueless he was, Bucky reached out and grabbed Stark’s left wrist, bringing his hand to his crotch, pointedly pressing it towards him until it began to feel good.
Stark chuckled. “Mutual masturbation, huh? Reminds you of the good ol’ times?”
Bucky frowned, unsure what he meant by it. Stark didn’t elaborate, though, and Bucky let it go as irrelevant commentary. His lack of response had no effect, either, because Stark wriggled his hand and effortlessly slid his fingers beneath the towel, a calloused grip taking Bucky’s cock firmly in hand.
The direct touch felt much better than pressure, and then Stark slid his fingers along the whole length of him, twisting just a little as if to see what would happen if he did. The throbbing sensation grew and Bucky decided he definitely liked it, which made him a little regretful that he hadn’t tried it himself. It had just never occurred to him that he could.
“You look so surprised,” Stark mused, the tug of his wrist transforming into a light tease back towards the base.
Bucky, who still had a hold of his wrist, squeezed in warning. “Shut up,” he muttered.
“Are you sure you’ve done this before?” Stark went on, his fingers properly wrapping around him again.
“What do you think?” Bucky growled while he enjoyed the light tug of Stark’s touch on the skin of his cock.
“Why do you think I’m asking?” Stark noted and sat up a little, his hand stilling.
“Don’t stop,” Bucky ordered and tried using his own hand to make him keep moving, but it wasn’t nearly as good.
“Bucky,” Stark said sharply and used his free hand to grab onto Bucky’s right one, “I’m not sure we should do this.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not sure if you’re really on board with this.”
Bucky felt like punching him again - and rubbing his hard dick in his face because that should have been a sign that he was on board with this. “Didn’t take you for a dame,” he huffed.
“I’m trying to be a responsible adult,” Stark snapped. “Also, try to refrain from saying that to a woman because times have changed since the 1930s.”
Bucky huffed and tried to manipulate Stark’s hand into stroking him again - unsuccessfully. It was starting to piss him off and he glowered at the other man, barely resisting the temptation to tighten his metal fingers around him until he did what Bucky wanted. “Didn’t come here for a history lesson,” he snapped then and curled his metal fingers over the top of Stark’s jeans, pulling him forward with a hard tug. The stool tipped and Stark hurriedly jumped to his feet before he fell down. With one of his hands still caught in Bucky’s grip, the other man was forced to lean on him to keep his balance.
An irate look passed Stark’s features. “Let go,” he ordered - but failed to specify which hand he was talking about; the one at the waistline of his jeans, of the one holding his hand captive against Bucky’s cock.
“Would you rather I let you fall?” he challenged.
Stark snorted. “I’m not convinced you would know what to do with me on my knees.”
That gave Bucky an idea - and idea he hadn’t previously considered. “Maybe I would,” he stated out loud and yanked Stark an inch closer. “Maybe if you do that,” he went on, “I’ll be extra… thorough with this,” he concluded, shifting the fingers of his left hand where they curled firmly against the other man’s abdomen, so close to what Stark wanted and yet not quite so.
He could see the gears turning in Stark’s head. It didn’t take him half as long as most people to make up his mind, and it said a lot about his character and life experience that he demanded neither clarification nor elaboration before he began lowering himself to the floor and Bucky needed to release him in order to let him finish his descent.
Bucky held his breath for a moment, feeling like he was in unfamiliar territory again. He had a vague idea of what was going to happen soon, but he could conjure up no real images from his past. It irritated him, the not knowing, especially when his gut told him the ignorance was false and his stomach tightened in anticipation as Stark pushed the towel aside to bare his crotch.
Brown eyes checked his face, briefly, as if looking for indecision.
Bucky slid his right hand into Stark’s hair and pulled his face closer, to make a point even though he wouldn’t have known what to do himself. Stark, however, had no such problems: his eyelids lowered, a hand moving to grasp Bucky’s cock by the base, and then his lips were around him, tongue swiping over the sensitive head, and Bucky’s fingers tightened fractionally at the sensation.
It was almost too much, all at once. At the same time, he wanted more of it - just like when Stark’s hand had been around him, making him feel good. His mouth was warm and wet, lips a firm pressure as he sucked, tongue dragging against the underside… Bucky shifted his fingers, rubbing them against Stark’s scalp, knowing he didn’t want to make a wrong move right now and give the impression he wasn’t enjoying it.
Stark shifted after a while and pushed forward, taking him a lot deeper. Bucky felt the slight bump against the back of his throat, which caused a squeezing reaction for a bit. Stark’s breath hitched, his jaw flexing, just a hint of teeth pressing against Bucky like a warning before he opened his jaw wider and pushed forward again.
Bucky closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation. He knew Stark was making an effort, taking his cock deeper than was comfortable and easy. It felt amazing, when the other man’s lips began nearing the very base of his cock, and Bucky had to give into the urge to watch. He wanted to reach down, to try and feel his hard flesh inside the other man, but he wasn’t sure he could and a wrong move on his part might leave him with teeth-marks on his dick.
Stark’s eyelids fluttered, his face a little flushed. He glanced up, quick as lightning, then drew back a lot quicker than he had moved forward, a small cough escaping him before he was all the way off Bucky’s cock, a thick string of saliva sticking to his lips before being pulled down by gravity.
Bucky moved his free hand instinctively, catching the escaping wetness with his metal fingers. He could not feel the slickness, but Stark’s eyes were instantly on it, his hot breaths caressing Bucky’s cock as he hovered an inch from it, his lips so close, open and inviting… Bucky wanted to use the hand in his hair to pull him forward, just as he wanted to smear the wetness all over his face and that immaculately trimmed goatee that was begging to be soiled. Those thoughts felt primal and he was happy to have them, seeing as primal he could deal with. The Soldier had often worked under the most primitive of orders, following his instincts to reach his goal, and he felt at ease when there were only feelings such as these instead of flashes of knowledge he did not understand.
He pushed his slick fingers along Stark’s jawline, his thumb shifting up to the slightly parted lips. His eyes could see the way the metal pressed into the plump, slightly swollen flesh before pushing forward. Stark’s tongue had felt unyielding against his dick, but against Bucky’s thumb it was helpless, pinned down when he pressed against it.
Stark let out a small sound, little more than a loud breath, but it was not resistance and Bucky filed it away. He would have loved to go on, to have Stark suck his metal fingers although he could not really feel it - which would be reason enough to test whether he could push his fingers as far down Stark’s throat as he had with his cock earlier. If he did that, though, his throbbing length would be left unattended, and he didn’t want that.
Slowly he pulled his thumb from the man’s mouth and simultaneously pulled him forward with the hand in his hair. Stark acquiesced willingly, suckling the head of his cock before taking in another inch, then another - whatever he could comfortably take into his mouth.
It was good and Bucky itched to rock into it, but he didn’t want to upset the balance now that he was getting what he wanted and allowed his fingers to ease their hold on the dark hair, rubbing again, wordlessly trying to communicate his preferences to Stark. It worked, he noticed - and he also noticed the faint shiver that went down Stark’s body when his fingers pressed against his scalp in a certain way, so he tried to keep doing that whenever Stark sucked and licked him particularly nicely, finding a few spots that were swiftly becoming his favorites.
Stark took him deeper a few times, but either it didn’t feel good to him or there was something wrong with the angle because he didn’t stay there. Bucky didn’t complain: he liked the rest of it just fine, the attention Stark could lavish at the head of his cock, and the way he rubbed against Stark’s tongue, the inside of his cheek or the particularly delicious brush against the roof of his mouth.
When his pleasure began to tighten, anticipation coiling within him, Bucky grew a little anxious. He almost pulled back to fist his cock in his own hand, which felt like the thing to do in order to reach whatever he wanted to reach right now, but he didn’t want to leave Stark’s mouth either. Disappointed at the dilemma, Bucky shifted his left hand and curled his fingers against Stark’s jaw, feeling the faint bump of his cockhead through the skin of his cheek. He could almost rub himself like that, if he wanted to, but then he thought of something else and shifted his hand to slip his thumb inside, beside his cock.
Stark definitely made a sound at that and stilled for a moment, as if to see what Bucky were doing.
Frowning at the interruption, Bucky’s right hand urged Stark to keep moving while his left adjusted to gingerly grip Stark’s jaw while his thumb was still inside, poking at his own cock and giving it just a bit more contact. He pressed against the digit, shifting it up against the roof of Stark’s mouth, making the other man twitch. Bucky ran his tongue against the roof of his own mouth and guessed it was ticklish there.
Stark slowly resumed tonguing and sucking his cock, trying to work around Bucky’s finger. Before long, Bucky decided adding his thumb wasn’t making things better, so he pulled it back out, sliding it along Stark’s lower lip. It was easy, then, to settle his thumb down against his lip and teeth, pressing his jaw down and give his cock more freedom to move in and out, Bucky’s hips instinctively moving to compensate for Stark’s restrained motions. It was limited, with Bucky still sitting on the stool, but he got an inch deeper when he pulled Stark just a little forward, rocking against the back of his mouth until he felt heat and pressure pulsing within him and his cock jerked, over and over, releasing his seed.
It was mesmerizing and confusing because he felt like he should have known that feeling, yet it felt like a breeze shifting cobwebs around in his mind, whispering and taunting. Bucky tried to follow the faint trail to something concrete, but then Stark’s hands came up to pull at his and he snapped out of it, pulling his thumb away and uncurling his fingers from his jaw.
Stark sputtered and snorted, then spat out a mouthful of spunk on the floor between them as he fought to breathe. Bucky supposed he had blocked his airway for a moment.
He let his right hand drop from Stark’s hair, fully intending to give him a moment, but it was too alluring to trail his fingers along a stray line of spit and cum on his chin, mixing it and making the mess worse instead of wiping it away. Stark eventually slapped his hand away and got up on shaky feet, reaching out for a towel on a table next to them. The towel was far from clean but it wiped away the worst of the mess.
“Satisfied?” Stark asked him, giving him a look.
Bucky shrugged his left shoulder and used the towel he was sitting on to slowly wipe his spent cock. Stark’s eyes followed the motion as he clearly waited for something, and Bucky remembered that they’d had a deal. Stark had done his part, so it was Bucky’s turn to return the favor.
Letting go of the towel, he shifted on his seat, getting a bit more comfortable, and flexed the fingers of his left hand. As expected, Stark’s eyes followed the motion, and Bucky wondered what exactly it was he wanted the arm for.
“Your turn,” Bucky stated.
Stark swallowed, looking a bit uncertain but simultaneously coveting something he couldn’t say ‘no’ to. “How about we take this to the bedroom?” he suggested. “I’m too old to be fooling around in my workshop.”
Bucky shrugged again. “It’s your show.”
“Damn right it is,” Stark muttered, voice too low to be heard but Bucky’s enhanced hearing picked it up anyway. “Come on,” he urged then, motioning for Bucky to get up.
He did, picking up the towel and slinging it over his shoulder as he followed Stark out of the workshop and into the elevator nearby. Stark selected the floor above Bucky’s room - one of the heavily restricted areas on the map - and the doors slid shut without a sound, the elevator moving up smoothly.
Stark was visibly tense, clearly not knowing what to do with himself. Bucky figured he would come to a decision soon enough, but in case Stark had trouble making up his mind, he decided to help him along and shifted closer to him, naked body pressing against the clothed one - the metal arm sneaking around him and fingers curling around the visible bulge of his erection, forcing a sharp exhale out of Stark’s lungs.
Bucky resisted the completely irrelevant urge to kiss Stark’s neck as he waited for the elevator to come to a halt, his fingers slowly kneading the other’s cock and balls, luring Stark to rock into his hand. If the rest of the night went like this, it would be over quickly. A part of Bucky didn’t mind that at all, seeing as he needed to get some sleep eventually and this weird dance with Stark hadn’t been something he had been planning on when entering the Tower.
Yet there was a sharp, newborn thrill inside him that firmly believed he could draw this out. It tugged on a cord deep in his groin and made him rub against Stark’s clothed backside, just as his fingers pressed a little tighter, drawing a faint moan from Stark’s throat.
Sleep could wait for a few more hours, he decided.
to be continued…
...see all art here!
Story info