as we live, so we love (steve/bucky)
Title: as we live, so we love
Fandom: Captain America (2011) and The Avengers
Pairing: Steve Rogers / Bucky Barnes
Rating: M
Word Count: 2800
Notes: Written in compliance with the Avengers RP on Twitter.
Dinner had been under way for approximately forty-five minutes and no one showed signs of wearying of the company or the food and drinks, which flowed freely. Snippets of conversation could be heard across the dining room; everything from government projects, security concerns, plans for the Avengers, the newest brands of tasers, and he was pretty sure he just heard Clint ask Natasha what kind of underwear she was wearing.
He'd been nervous to go to this dinner, had even tried to back out of it, but Steve's quiet promises of having a good time and how much he wanted to show everyone who he was with won him over. And, to be completely honest, Bucky was having a great time. Okay, so some (most) of the politicians were boring, and so were the SHIELD agents, but it was fun being with Steve and the other Avengers, and he couldn't stop the warm feeling of pleasure that raced up and down his spine and set his heart to soaring whenever Steve had introduced him as 'my boyfriend.'
Though, dinner was lasting rather long, and while the food was good and his company even better, Bucky Barnes had other things on his mind.
He slid his hand across Steve's thigh, nails digging in slightly, until it was resting against Steve's groin.
"Bucky-" Steve muttered, his tone low and full of warning.
Bucky merely smiled, innocent and demure, and took a bite of the eggplant parmesan on his plate. (Delicious.) Meanwhile, though, he was palming at Steve's dick, coaxing it to hardness, which didn't really require as much coaxing as he'd previously thought. (And yeah, who can blame him for thinking about getting Steve off in a situation like this, man looked damn good in a suit, and Bucky had never been too good about resisting Steve, he was the only one he'd ever wanted.)
Moments passed, and they both kept eating, and he liked the way Steve tried to pretend that nothing was happening as a senator from Massachusetts asked him how he felt about test-ban treaties and Iran having nuclear capabilities. He liked that he knew Steve so well that he could tell there was something amiss; none of the others, at least, not the dignitaries and politicians and government bigwigs, could look at Steve and tell that he was being jerked off by his boyfriend underneath the dining table.
He set down his fork and glanced over at Steve as he took a sip of water; there was a blush dusting his cheekbones, his pupils were fast becoming dilated, and he was worrying his bottom lip with his teeth.
"You keep holding onto the table like that, dear," he said, leaning over to whisper to Steve, "you'll break it and cause a scene." He emphasized his point by rubbing his thumb roughly over the head of Steve's dick, and he fought a laugh as Steve rocked his hips forward in his chair, causing several people to look over in their direction at the sound the chair made. Steve flushed and waved them off, muttering something about needing to be closer to the table, and turned his head to glare at Bucky.
"You get the drift?"
"Now is not the time-" Steve hissed, and Bucky grinned at him, still rubbing him through his trousers.
"Just let me, Steve," he whispered, face suddenly serious, leaning over so that he could press a kiss to the corner of Steve's mouth. "'m sure that you'll get me back in spectacular fashion, and we'll worry about that later, but right now...Just let me."
They looked at each other for a long moment, and Bucky couldn't speak to what Steve was feeling, 'sides from the arousal evident against his palm, but he felt like the air had gone out of the room, like he was breathless, and yeah, so what if he actually was? When Steve finally nodded, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, Bucky grinned even wider.
"Stop grinning at me like that, you idiot," Steve said, his lip twitching as he leaned back a little in his seat, spreading his legs slightly to give Bucky better access.
"Well, sure, if that's what you want," Bucky said amiably, and promptly engaged Darcy, on the other side of the table, in a conversation about the status of a playlist she was making and whether or not the taser that Coulson had bought her was working out. His hand was still working at Steve's dick and he supposed he should feel some sort of shame about this, about wanting his boyfriend so badly that he couldn't wait until they got home, about getting him off in a room full of really important people, but the fact was? Bucky didn't give a damn.
All that mattered was Steve, and judging from the way he could see him biting his lip and twisting a cloth napkin in his hands out of the corner of his eye, a flush still gracing his cheeks? Steve was feeling pretty fucking okay with it.
He saw Natasha studying Steve from across the table, her wine glass dangling in her hand as her eyes narrowed, her expression calculating. He saw the moment she realized what was happening, her eyes alight with mirth and bemusement and yeah, okay, maybe a little shock.
Her eyes slid from Steve over to him, and Bucky kept his face innocent, smiling genially, and stroked Steve all the harder. Natasha arched an eyebrow at him as if she could actually see what he was doing, and he gave a small shrug.
Like she hadn't done worse with Clint, and they'd gone to more dinners like this than he had.
She politely turned her gaze away, and Bucky turned his full attention back to the Avenger sitting to his right.
Bucky squeezed him tightly through the black slacks that Steve had worn on their first nice date and that he was wearing now; he guessed he had a habit of making Steve come in these pants, and he was fine by that. He loosened his grip, stroked him languidly, and fuck if Bucky wasn't already half-hard himself from the way Steve looked-flushed, eyes wide and blinking, biting his lip, tongue darting out to wet his mouth every so often, his breathing shallow.
"Bucky," Steve hissed, reaching down to grab his wrist. "I'm gonna-"
"Yeah, I know you are. That's kind of the point, Captain."
His gaze flicked downward and he looked at Steve pointedly, as if to say, "Nothing I'd like more right now than to see you come, please let me, c'mon, I know you want it." Steve looked back at him evenly, his brow furrowed, trying to make a decision, and in the end, Bucky made it for him.
He quickly unzipped Steve's slacks, pushed aside the opening of his boxers, and slid his hand inside, grasping him tightly. Steve made a small noise in the back of his throat, quiet and not noticeable to anyone but Bucky, and he twisted his wrist once, twice, brushed his thumb up and over the head of Steve's dick and suddenly Steve came, biting down on his fist to keep from crying out.
He pulled his hand out of Steve's trousers and made sure his boyfriend was watching before he licked off one of his fingers. Steve's eyes widened and he made a soft choking sound, and Bucky smirked, satisfied. He picked up his napkin to wipe the rest of Steve's release off, and watched Steve fix his pants out of the corner of his eye. Bucky bit his lip as he, for the first time, focused on his own desire. He couldn't just sit here, and an under-the-table handjob wasn't going to cut it, not now. He ignored the bemused expression on Natasha's face as he got up from the table, tossing the napkin down, and leaned in close to Steve.
"Bathroom, Rogers. Third floor."
His tone brooked no argument, and he pressed a kiss to Steve's temple before walking away. Truth be told, he wasn't sure if Steve would follow. The guy may be the best Bucky's ever had, sexually and otherwise, but he was still Steve Rogers, and that included some rather unfortunate hang-ups. Kid still blushed when saying "I want you to fuck me," for god's sake, and he hadn't even wanted to fuck in the kitchen at the mansion at three in the morning for worry someone would walk in.
Bucky took the stairs two at a time, and he didn't look behind him to make sure Steve was following, wasn't sure he could bear it if he wasn't. Wouldn't stop him from getting off, but yeah, it would make him feel like an idiot, and not a little humiliated. He pushed open the door to the bathroom soon enough, and went straight to the sink, bracing his hands against the cold granite. He reached up with one hand and loosened his tie, and after a second, decided 'fuck it' and just took the thing off.
After another few seconds, he shrugged off his jacket, draping it over the far side of the sink. His fingers nimbly unfastened the first three buttons of his shirt, and he looked at himself in the mirror, taking in his appearance.
Bucky's bottom lip was red, he supposed from him worrying at it with his teeth, and he was flushed, his pupils blown.
He braced his hands on the counter once more, trying to get some self-control, trying not to feel like he had years ago, when he would steal into the bathroom in his and Steve's tiny apartment in Brooklyn to jerk off because everything about the kid got him hard.
Bucky checked his watch. It had been five minutes.
He reached down with one hand, rubbed himself through his pants, his eyes fluttering closed, and moaned softly.
A hand closed over his a moment later, thumb brushing against his wrist.
"Thought you were gonna wait for me?" Steve murmured, voice low against the curve of his ear.
He turned around abruptly in answer, hands tangling in Steve's perfect hair, tugging him into a kiss. Their mouths moved together, hot and wet and dirty, and Steve backed him up until he could feel the cool granite of the counter pressing against the base of his spine through his white dress shirt.
"Door?" he asked, breathless.
"Locked it," Steve said, grinning, rolling his hips against Bucky's in a way that had him making a small and pathetic noise in the back of his throat.
"Thank god for that-" he managed, as Steve's hands made short work of his belt and pushed the fabric of his shirt up, fingers pressing into his skin.
Bucky reached between them as well, unzipping his pants and pushing them down past his hips.
"Eager, are you?" Steve asked, a teasing grin on his face.
"Shut it," Bucky shot back, undoing Steve's belt and yeah, he was hard again already, and the front of his boxers was slightly damp from his previous release. "Seems like you're quite eager yourself, Captain America." His hand closed around Steve's erection, squeezing tightly.
Steve rocked forward into his palm, sucking in a harsh breath. "You play dirty," he said, his voice dropping a register, lips twitching up in a smile. He sounded proud, or maybe fascinated.
"You bet," Bucky said. "Man's gotta do what a man's gotta do."
He pushed his boxers down and then pulled at Steve's tie with his free hand, tugging him into another kiss. This wasn't a slow and passionate kiss, like the first had been. This was teeth and frustrated desire and it was more like a battle for dominance than anything else. Bucky was losing. With a final bite at his lip, Steve pushed him until he was turned around, hands once more braced on the granite of the bathroom counter. Bucky leaned forward until he was practically flat against the cold surface, and he let out a small desperate sound as he felt Steve's fingers, slick with what he supposed could either be saliva or his come, pressing against and into him.
Steve's fingers crooked and pressed against him in all the right places, but it was still taking too long, and on top of that, it wasn't enough.
"Just fuck me already, would you?" he snapped, grinding back against the Avenger's fingers, and Steve groaned in response.
"Bucky, you're not-it might hurt-"
"I'm not a dame, Steve, goddammit. Just fuck me, okay, want to feel it burn and ache, want you inside me, want to feel this for days after-"
Steve pressed in firmly and without warning, and Bucky let out a high keening noise and pressed his head against the granite, his breath coming out in a shocked gasp.
"Bucky, are you..." Steve began, his hands rubbing soothingly on his hips.
"'m fine, Steve, just move, okay?"
He sighed, hands grasping futilely for purchase at the smoothness of the counter as Steve began thrusting inside of him, and he rocked back as much as he could, the granite digging into the skin of his hips pleasantly as Steve pressed him forward against the counter.
"Harder," he mumbled, "not gonna get there fast enough otherwise, c'mon, Steve."
The other man responded by giving a violent snap of his hips that had Bucky seeing stars and colors behind his eyelids as his prostate was over-stimulated, and the desperate and wanton noises he was making as Steve moved roughly inside of him should probably have been embarrassing, but they weren't. He was just about to reach down to help get himself off when Steve beat him to it, one hand moving from his hip to his dick, thumb smearing precome over the head as he jerked him in time with his thrusts.
He was talking without realizing it, an endless litany of meaningless words, at least until he listened to himself and discovered he was saying, "God, please, oh please, God-" over and over. He didn't mind that so much, either, at least not when Steve twisted his wrist around his cock and Bucky came suddenly, shuddering and whimpering, and Steve followed soon after, pressing deep inside of him with his name on his tongue.
They stayed still for a moment, panting and trembling, and the tile was warm under Bucky's skin. He laughed breathlessly, Steve still inside him, and he could practically feel the frown on Steve's face, even if he couldn't see it.
"What is it?"
"I jerked you off under a dinner table," Bucky said, laughing, "and there were politicians and generals there," the laughing faltered as Steve eased out of him, slid his boxers back up, "and we just fucked in a bathroom that probably cost more to make than anything we've ever owned combined."
He stood up fully and turned around, leaning against the counter, relishing the soft burn and ache in his ass as it pressed against the edge of the granite. He'd be able to walk straight, at least, and without a limp, but he'd feel it when he sat down. Bucky was perfectly okay with that.
Steve pulled his own boxers up, and he grinned at Bucky, biting his lip in a way that always made him want to kiss him desperately. "It's kind of ridiculous."
"It was the hottest thing I've ever been a part of," Bucky admitted as Steve hoisted his pants back up, zipping and buttoning them thoughtlessly. He stepped forward after he had redone his belt, and he looked at Bucky fondly as he fixed his shirt, pants and belt, too. He brushed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and he made a soft sound of amusement that had Steve grinning against his skin.
"We should get back," he said at length, pulling away, and Bucky nodded.
They both stood in front of the mirror, straightening their shirts and cleaning themselves up. Bucky picked up his tie, thought about putting it back on, and then shoved it in his pocket. He couldn't be bothered.
Steve was standing next to him, trying to fix his hair, but that blonde mess had always been pretty much hopeless, especially once it had already been messed up. He reached over, murmuring, "Here, let me," and Steve bowed his head as Bucky ran his fingers through it, combing it this way and that, and when he pulled back, Steve looked almost respectable. Almost.
After one last bruising kiss that had the two of them moaning into each other's mouths, they left the bathroom, and Steve slung his arm around Bucky's shoulders as they walked downstairs.
Yeah, Bucky thought to himself as he smiled and leaned into Steve, tonight had gone rather well indeed.