Chapter Text
Bucky makes sure to wrap his fingers around his glass just right and bring it to his lips frequently, drawing attention to his hands and mouth. He can feel the guy's eyes tracking him, even from under the bill of his questionable baseball cap, and it's about as subtle as a brick to the face. His gaze is heavy and deliberate, and the longer he looks, the wider his pupils and mouth get, Bucky’s sure. He's all but drooling and Bucky is doing his absolutely most subtle flirting. He can't wait to see what the guy does with more. If he gathers the courage to come over here.
Bucky isn't about to walk up to a group just to hit on one guy. A guy who appears to be out with some sort of team, judging by the general comradery and the overheard "Cap" that seems to be aimed in said guy’s direction (which, Bucky thinks, is pretty fitting, in this circumstance). Bucky isn’t gonna risk awkward faking-straight rejection or accidentally outing the dude, so he continues to nurse his drink suggestively and waits for Cap Guy to come to him.
He isn't disappointed. Cap Guy waves the men at the table away when they all get up and start to disperse loudly, while he makes his way straight towards the bar and Bucky. He's confident, walking sure and focused but not aggressively. He smiles, and it's small but not shy, says, "Hi, I'm Steve. May I sit?"
Bucky smirks back, not wanting to make this easy. Cap Guy, Steve, is tall and broad and beautiful and probably hasn't had to work to pick up much. But if anyone is going to stick around for long, they're going to learn Bucky is a bit of a handful, and he's interested in seeing if Steve can handle it.
"Bucky. And hm, I don't know, pal. My grandad wouldn't be too pleased to see me hanging around a Yankees fan."
Steve almost looks chagrined, nodding solemnly. "Well, it's good I'm not a Yankees fan then. I like the Dodgers actually."
"Oh, you know just what to say, hmm, Steve? Because grandad is a diehard, and still mad they moved to LA even though it happened, like, sixty years ago."
Steve takes a seat, turned towards Bucky and perched at the edge so their legs are brushing together. Eager. Bucky could tease him about it, but he likes it. He'll find something else to give Steve shit over, and hopefully he'll be able to feel him squirm with their legs this close together.
"Sounds like we'd get along well," Steve replies rather than changing the topic from sports or Bucky's grandad for God's sake.
"Would you like me to introduce you? He's still happily married to my grandma, and well into his eighties, so I hate to say I don't think you'd have much luck there."
Steve barks a laugh, tugging on the brim of his godawful cap as he ducks his head, and oh, Bucky likes that a lot. "I think we need to go on a few dates first before I meet any parents, grand or otherwise."
"Oh, confident you can snag a date here, are you?"
"Fairly. You've been eyeing me from the bar for quite some time."
"Was wondering if you'd ever get the courage to come over."
"Wanted the rest of the guys to leave. They're good guys, but some of them can be real assholes sometimes. Occupational hazard, I guess. I didn't want them reflecting poorly on me and bringing down my chances."
Bucky can feel himself fighting a real smile. "But not ruining? Cocky. I still haven't seen any moves to convince me that I should leave with you tonight, Steve. Is this really your best seduction game?"
"Oh, no. I wanted to get to know you first. I’m sure anyone would be lucky enough, but I'd rather try for more than a one night stand."
"And if you were going for a one night stand?"
"Well, then I'd put my hand on your thigh," Steve says, doing just that. "And I'd lean in and talk a bit quieter so you'd have to lean in too. I'd slowly slide my hand up, though not quite where you want it," Steve continues, hand moving up his thigh and long fingers just barely brushing where Bucky's pants were becoming a little tight. "And notice that there was something in your hair that I'd ask if I could get for you–" Steve's eyes look into his imploringly, and Bucky finds himself nodding, watching as Steve removes imaginary fuzz from behind his ear, "just an excuse to run my other hand through it and brush against your neck."
Bucky shivers because damn , he looks like a sweet golden retriever but this man is a wolf hiding in plain sight. Steve smirks, fully aware of the effect he's having and the confidence — the cockiness — is attractive as hell.
"You seem cold," Steve mutters into Bucky's ear, where he's still leaning in, palm heavy on Bucky's upper thigh. "I live a few blocks from here. Would you like to come back to my place to warm up?"
Steve leans back, smiling and self-satisfied.
"Okay, you are good. C'mon big guy, take me back to your place, and depending on how it goes, we can talk about that date."
"Yes, sir," Steve says, throwing down a few bills and placing his hand on the small of Bucky's back to guide him out of the bar.
They make it to the apartment and Steve’s just locking the door and offering something to drink when Bucky cuts him off with one hand on the side of his face and the other flipping his stupid baseball cap around so he can press his lips to Steve's. To Steve's credit, he doesn't even hesitate, pressing back into the kiss but not pushing too hard, letting Bucky take the lead while still being an active and very willing participant judging by the bulge Bucky can feel against his hip.
Bucky keeps the pace slow but the kiss is anything but sweet and chaste, one hand guiding Steve from below his chin and the other wrapped around the back of his neck. Bucky loves the way that Steve just lets him have control, but as he pulls back slightly for air, Steve tries to follow him. Bucky bites into his bottom lip and Steve makes a sound in the back of his throat and hitches his hips against Bucky's thigh, rutting against him.
Bucky smiles, holding Steve's lip caught between his teeth for a few more seconds and dropping his hands to Steve's waist – well, maybe one hand is on his ass. He pulls back further and breaks the kiss and Steve sighs but doesn't follow this time. He opens his eyes slightly, already looking glassy from just a bit of making out, his lips red and shiny and slick from their spit, and oh , Bucky is going to enjoy this.
"Show me to the bedroom, Steve."
Steve nods, eyes still half-lidded and pupils blown out as he grasps at Bucky's hand and pulls him along. He actually stops inside the door, looking to Bucky for instruction, and Bucky doesn’t think much of it, when he lets out a slightly amused, "good boy."
But Steve’s breath catches and he sways in closer, eyes still blown nearly black and focused only on Bucky. And, well, damn, Bucky can definitely work with that, or at least see how far it goes.
"Be a dear and undress me, would you?" Bucky asks, and the question is barely out before Steve is pushing at his jacket and unbuttoning the few buttons on his henley and stripping it over his head.
Steve literally collapses to his knees in front of him to get at the laces on his boots and pulls them and his socks off carefully, one by one, keeping a steadying hand on Bucky's hip. He reaches up to the button of Bucky's jeans and flicks it open before leaning in and pulling the zipper down with his teeth, breath ghosting over the thin fabric of Bucky's underwear. God, Steve is basically nuzzling his dick now, not even trying to pull the jeans down, and there's gonna be time for that later because Bucky is sure there's almost nothing in the world that will stop him from wanting to see Steve again after this.
"Hey, no getting distracted down there just yet, alright, big guy? Pants, yeah?"
Steve seems to come back to himself a little then, looking up at Bucky through insanely long eyelashes and nodding, before he pulls Bucky's jeans and boxer briefs off. Then he’s sitting back on his heels, legs folded under him and waiting for whatever Bucky tells him to do next, though his gaze keeps drifting down to rest on Bucky's cock.
"How do you feel about fucking me, Steve?"
Steve groans and says the first words since Bucky kissed him, a beautifully desperate, "Yeah, that’s. Yeah, anything you want."
Bucky stares at him for a second. “You really mean that, don’t you.” Then he shakes his head in wonder, reaching out and running a finger down Steve’s cheek. “Want me to give you a play by play? Tell you what I’m thinkin’?”
Leaning into the touch, Steve nods. “Yeah. Okay.”
"I was thinkin’ of you lying back on that big ol’ bed of yours and opening me up so I could ride you.” Bucky pauses, and then on a whim, adds, “Also thinking maybe you’d like to lay real still for me, let me just fuck myself on you however I like, and if you’re good...you can come after I do.”
"Fuck yes. Yes, yeah, I can do that." Steve pants. Bucky smiles and tells Steve to get undressed before he lays down, but when Steve goes to take the hat off, Bucky plucks it from his fingers, settling it on his own head backwards. He's right here with Steve now, but something tells him he’ll want to remember this later, so he's made up his mind and is stealing this hat (besides, Steve doesn’t even like it). By the look on Steve's face, he is not opposed to Bucky wearing it, mouth hanging open and one leg out of his jeans like he forgot what he was doing.
Steve snaps to when Bucky throws a look at the bed, hurrying so much that he almost trips trying to kick off his pants while simultaneously going for his nightstand for lube and a condom.
"So eager," Bucky says, and watches a flush work it's way across Steve's face and down his chest. "I like it."
"Yeah?" Steve says, and it's the first time he's sounded unsure this entire evening, and Bucky can't have that.
"Yeah.” Bucky smiles and gently shoves Steve until he sits on the edge of the bed. It’s easier for him to run a reassuring hand through Steve's short blond hair, fluffing it up where the hat had flattened it down.
“I know it’s not what people expect…” Steve says and trails off. He’s fidgeting with the small bottle of lube nervously.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, usually people expect me to be...more in control? I guess due to the fact I usually am the one in charge, and that’s fine for work and when I’m in the field, but when it’s...this.” He takes a deep breath. “When I’m intimate, it’s easy for me to– I just get a little... hazy maybe. Not all there. But I can–I can make decisions, if that’s what you want.”
Bucky keeps petting at his hair, trying to be supportive without saying something blatantly encouraging, because he’s not sure if Steve would be able to hear it right now without thinking it was somehow condescending. It seems like that’s what he expects and Bucky doesn’t know if that came from a person or some bullshit toxic masculinity thing that is still probably alive if not well in locker rooms. “What do you want, Steve? Do you like the feeling or not?”
"Yeah,” Steve practically sighs.
“Then I want you to go with it. I’m more than okay taking the reins, you just have to promise you’ll tell me if I do something you don’t like, okay?”
“Of course,” Steve says, earnest, but then seems to catch himself and continues, “But I can hold it off, you don't have to do all the work—"
Bucky scoffs. "Whoever told you that decisions were ‘all the hard work’ had it all wrong. You're going to be working for me tonight, sweetheart, don’t worry. Me getting to decide just means that I'll get what I want,” Bucky tipped Steve’s chin up using his index finger, and leaned in to breathe against his lips, “and you’ll just want whatever that is, isn't that right?"
"Yeah. Yeah, Bucky, anything you want."
"That's the second time you've told me that tonight, Steve. You really need to be careful with that. Gonna give a man all kinds of ideas.” Bucky licks slow across open lips and the noise Steve unleashes undoes something inside him. He kisses him filthily before pulling far enough away to moan, “Onto the bed, get me ready for you, baby.”
Steve pulls him down to the bed and quickly works one slick finger into him. He pays attention to Bucky's directions and praises – all the way, sweetheart… harder… a little to the left… there… good, another… ah, ah, ah… one more… faster… yes, good – until he has three fingers perfectly working Bucky's prostate and he has to tell Steve to stop.
"That's enough, hands off. Get the condom on, I'm ready. Jesus, am I ready. I'm gonna ride you so hard."
Steve does as he's told and nearly shouts when Bucky sinks down on him. He fists his hands in the sheets and gives a few short, sharp thrusts up like he just can't help himself, and Bucky's not going to chastise him when he's trying so hard otherwise. Steve settles eventually, sprawled out on the bed and staring up at Bucky like he can't believe any of this is happening. That's okay, Bucky can hardly believe it either.
"I like you in my hat," Steve says, a bit dumbly, though he hardly seems aware of it.
"Good, because you're not getting it back," Bucky says through a punched out laugh, pushing up and then sliding back down on Steve's dick. Steve moans in response but doesn't move his hips this time — because Bucky had said something earlier about being still and Steve’s nothing if not determined.
Bucky runs his hands up from Steve's abs, to palm his chest, thumbing at one of his nipples as he uses the leverage to push up and back down at a new angle and oh , this time it's perfect, Steve's cock hitting his prostate dead on. Bucky loses himself to the rhythm for a while, enjoying the way Steve's stretching him and the pleasant, low burn in his thighs and arms from riding Steve fast and hard, just like he promised, until it's too much and he needs to come, needs to get a hand on himself right now, but he can't do that and ride Steve at the same time, so —
"Mm, Steve, so good, I'm so close. C'mon, fuck me, sweetheart, get me there, then you can come too."
And oh God, Steve immediately gets his feet under him and his hands around Bucky's hips, pulling Bucky up and down in time with his thrusts and it only takes Bucky a few pulls on his dick before he's coming, groaning and digging his other hand into Steve's chest where it's still planted, and it's like his own pleasure sets Steve off because it's not even three seconds later that Steve slams him down on his cock and sits up to bring his mouth to Bucky's, more panting in each other's space than a kiss.
Bucky pulls off and flops down next to Steve, letting him toss the condom with surprising accuracy to a trashcan several feet from the bed. The brim of his nearly forgotten new hat digs into his neck which almost pushes it off his head until he turns to the side to look at Steve and readjusts it. Steve still looks pretty dopey and satiated, head tilted towards Bucky and eyes watching him but somehow also far away.
"So, about that date..." Bucky says, and Steve smiles.