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Bucky has trouble sleeping sometimes.
He could be bone-tired throughout the day, and then the moment he lay down to give into that exhaustion, it would elude him. He would lie there, wide awake, restless and envying Steve and the soft, even snores that’d come from him not even ten minutes after his head hit the pillow.
He couldn’t be sure whether the occasional sleepless nights were a side effect of – well, everything, or if it was simply a new development, something that’d come about on its own. Either way, melatonin doesn’t do shit for him these days, not with his turbo metabolism, and the only surefire ways to knock him out are, in no particular order: horse tranquillisers, a strong jab to the cranium, cryogenic freezing, or a thorough dicking.
The preferred option is clear.
“Steve,” Bucky whispers, gently digging his elbow into the huge mass of man plastered to his back, sound asleep.
“Mm,” Steve hums, still mostly unconscious. Bucky wriggles free of his grasp, or at least attempts to, when Steve makes a noise of great discontent and rolls over more fully on top of him, smothering him a little. “Where ya goin’,” he mumbles, face in Bucky’s hair.
“Nowhere, you big oaf,” Bucky says, voice exaggeratedly wheezy from beneath Steve. Steve relents, removing most of his weight from Bucky, but keeping his arm firmly around his waist.
“What’s’a matter?” Steve says, blinking his eyes open. “Why’re you up?”
“Haven’t slept,” Bucky tells him, turning in Steve’s arms to face him. “Can’t. So. I was, uh. I was thinking,” Bucky begins.
“Well don’t hurt yourself,” Steve murmurs in reply, stretching a little.
“I was thinking you could help me out,” Bucky says. Thankfully, considering Steve’s got a one-track mind at the worst of times, it doesn’t take him long to figure out what he means. The thigh Bucky wedges between Steve’s legs might also help the process along a little. Steve gives a slow, wide grin. “Oh, that’s what you’re after, huh?”
Bucky gives a noise that’s a cross between a groan and a huff, looking away from Steve’s ridiculously, increasingly smug face while Steve pulls him closer, laughing quietly. “Forget I asked,” Bucky says.
“Hey, don't be like that. I take my duties very seriously. Glad you came to me for help. What modern medicine can’t achieve, I certainly can, I’ll tell you that for free.”
“I’ll just get some of that De-hulking antidote Banner formulated, it’s gotta have some sort of effect–“
“You’re gonna stay put, is what you’re gonna do,” Steve says, the hand on Bucky’s waist drifting lower. “We’re gonna solve this, you and me, the way nature intended.”
Bucky looks at him. “Yeah?” he asks, relieved – despite Steve’s teasing – to have some assurance to be granted reprieve from watching the light of their nightstand alarm clock bounce across the wall as the numbers change.
Steve squeezes his ass lovingly. “Of course, honey. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be out like a light. Now roll over.”
Bucky flips unceremoniously onto his stomach with a huff of effort, and Steve sits up, taking his comforting body heat with him. Bucky settles down, spreading his legs for easy access and hears Steve slide their nightstand drawer open, popping a very familiar-sounding bottle cap. Bucky takes a long breath listens to Steve moving quietly in the dark, using the moonlight shining from between their cracked curtains as illumination. The anticipation alone has his cock fattening up in his skimpy sleep shorts, the feeling that comes with the knowledge that Steve’s gonna take care of him mixed with the longing to finally be able to rest. Then Steve’s huge hands are stroking up his back, warm and silently asking if he’s okay because, horny or not, they went to bed hours ago and he knows Steve worries, he doesn’t have to say it.
“I’m fine,” Bucky tells him, turning his head to the side to look at Steve, at his bright blue eyes shining in the darkness. “No bad thoughts, nightmares, nothin’ like that. Just good old-fashioned insomnia. Put me to sleep.”
Steve watches his face a second longer before asking, “What, no ‘please’?”, sounding reassured, tugging Bucky’s little briefs down, tossing them away somewhere.
“As if you need a please to wanna stick it in me,” Bucky says.
Steve gives a hum, spreading Bucky’s cheeks and rubbing two fingers over his hole. “Any secret I like hearing you ask me for it?”
“You like having your ego stroked, is what you like.”
“Brat,” Steve says, pushing a fingertip against Bucky’s hole, rubbing over it just to see it clench, wanting something inside. “Got something you need and you’re still mouthing off? Awful bold of you, Barnes. I’m offended, almost.”
Bucky rocks his hips back against Steve’s hand. “A man of great suffering, I’m sure,” he says.
Steve squeezes his ass, not wasting any more time before slowly working a thick finger into him, another following right after when he’s sure Bucky can take it. They’d fucked earlier anyway, early afternoon, and Bucky was still a little open, a little stretched, the soreness from the bruises on his hips just starting to fade. Steve presses his fingers in deeper, sliding them in to the knuckle, then back out, then in again. Bucky arches a little, lips parting as he darts his tongue over them. The probing digits inside him curl against his walls as they flutter and catch around them, and then Steve’s pressing the pads of his fingers against his prostate, massaging slowly. Bucky hisses, grabbing fistfuls of the sheets, squirming. “Jesus, Steve,” he moans, as Steve pushes in even deeper, a man on a mission. He’s sat firmly on the back of Bucky’s thighs now, so for all Bucky’s wriggling, he’s got nowhere to go. Bucky likes it like that, and Steve knows it.
“Mhm,” Steve hums, slowly fingerfucking him into a frenzy. “That’s nice, huh?”
“Yeah. Fuck – yeah, there,” Bucky sighs, heat spreading through him, slowly, all-encompassing. “Mm. Right- right there.”
“I know, baby,” Steve tells him, grabbing and squeezing Bucky’s ass with his other hand, almost lazily, in time with his flexing fingers. “Know this part of you better than you do.”
“Don’t go getting cocky,” Bucky murmurs, a jolt of pleasure making him gasp sharply as Steve adds a third finger, stretching him a little more.
“Think we’re past that,” Steve says, amused, easily turning Bucky to mush with his fingers and proving his point.
“Nhhn,” Bucky moans into the pillow, pushing back against Steve’s fingers and then forward into the sheet. The friction on both ends is so good, makes him keen high in his throat, wanting more. “Fuck– fuck, Steve- ah–“
“Yeah, long past that,” Steve repeats, smug. Bucky bites out an indignant sound and gets a series of merciless thrusts for his efforts. “No pleasing some people. Have me up at all hours like your own personal Nyquil and what thanks do I get, huh?” Steve asks. He strokes a hand up the expanse of Bucky’s back, then back down, smacks his ass when he doesn’t answer.
“Jesus– thank you,” Bucky manages, trembling a little, trying to sound sarcastic and failing. He wanted to get fucked to sleep, still wants to, but he knows good and well if he keeps mouthing off Steve’ll fuck him damn near into a coma, six or seven denied orgasms later, too. Hell, he’d do that just for fun.
“That’s what I like to hear,” Steve says, gruff, because just hearing Bucky desperate goes right to his dick, every time. Steve slowly pulls his fingers out of Bucky, ignoring Bucky’s desperate groans.
“Steve.”
“Shh, I got you,” Steve says, low, and Bucky hears the quiet shuffle of his pants being yanked down just enough. “What, you think you’re the only one with needs? Spread your legs for me a little, honey. Yeah, just like that, Jesus, your ass looks pretty in this light.”
“You can sketch it later for all I care, just fuck me,” Bucky pants.
“Deserves more than a sketch. I was thinking watercolors at least,” Steve murmurs, pressing the blunt tip of his cockhead against Bucky’s hole. Bucky’s mouth drops open, pushing back the little he can. Steve gives a quiet huff of a laugh, says “Eager, huh?” low, like Bucky’s not even meant to hear.
“More,” Bucky breathes, and Steve listens for once in his life, slowly filling him up all the way until his hips are flush against Bucky’s ass. Bucky gives a muffled series of cries, ah- fuck- mmm, and Steve rolls his hips in tight little circles, making sure Bucky feels it, how deep he is, feels the torturously sweet drag against his spot with every thrust. Bucky can feel himself sweating, a little dizzy with it already. He gasps desperately and Steve starts to give it to him a little faster, grabbing Bucky by the waist to hold him in place when he inevitably starts to squirm.
Bucky whines, feeling hot, the pleasurable dull ache low in his belly spreading ‘til he’s choked up with it. Steve keeps going, steady, filling him up until Bucky’s eyes roll up into his head a little, then pulling out, fucking him in languid, deep strokes, burying himself to the hilt to the hilt each time. “There you go,” Steve murmurs, when Bucky’s whimpering quietly, breath hitching and catching on each thrust. “There you go, sweetheart. That what you needed?”
“Mmm, yeah,” Bucky moans, wet between his legs, leaking against his stomach, fuck, he's not gonna last long. “F-faster.”
“Always with the demands,” Steve murmurs, and then he’s quickening his pace, fucking into Bucky with quick, shallow thrusts. “Lucky I’m sweet on you.” Bucky gives a whine in reply, because ain’t he just? The sweetest. Bucky’s the luckiest fella in the world, he swears it.
“Feels so good,” Bucky slurs, barely thinking about it, mouth shooting off on its own accord. “God, it’s so good, fill me up so good.”
Steve groans at that, hips moving that little bit faster, fucking him into the mattress, fingers digging into Bucky’s waist, big hands grabbing at his thighs, his ass, the sloppy sounds of his thrusts ringing in Bucky’s ears. Steve leans down, ducking his head and mouthing at Bucky’s neck, nipping at his earlobe. Bucky shivers, close, and Steve hums in satisfaction when he feels Bucky bear down, clenching instinctively. “That’s it, honey, that’s it, take it.”
Bucky shivers, panting open-mouthed and shameless, “Ah- ah, ah, ah– Steve–“
Steve sinks his teeth into him, marking him up, sucking deep, mean bruises into his skin. He cages Bucky in, forearms resting on either side, grinding his hips into Bucky that bit slower. Bucky gasps, and Steve keeps rocking up into him, steady, making him cry out because he’s fucking him just right, just right, driving into him until he can barely think. Bucky chokes out a sob of Steve’s name and comes, brow furrowed, stuffed full and out of his mind.
Steve groans, endearments mixed with slurred praise falling from his lips as he buries himself inside, coming as Bucky tightens and flutters around him.
Bucky pants, chest heaving as he slowly starts to come back down, feeling thoroughly sated, his body thrumming with it. He turns his head to kiss Steve, lazy, his lips wet against his.
“That do the job?” Steve asks, bumping their noses together.
“Mhmm,” Bucky hums back, resting his head again. His eyelids flutter, the weight of the long day hitting him at once. He feels himself sinking into the mattress, breathing slowly starting to even out. He’s gonna be out for a good ten hours, minimum. He smiles happily into the pillow and Steve smiles back, eyes crinkling with how genuine it is. “That’s as good an answer as any. Goodnight, Buck.”
“Mmnight,” Bucky says back, already drifting off.