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Bucky wasn’t thinking about it being close to his twenty-fifth birthday or what that might mean as he rocked back onto the dildo he had suction cupped to the shower wall. He was too busy chasing some release after a hectic week that had been more dumpster fire than productive.
He needed this orgasm.
The hot water from the shower spray beat down on him in the small space, the cold curtain brushing his arm. He had his prosthetic hand wrapped around his cock, jerking himself hard enough it should have almost been painful, but he liked the bite of the metal against his skin. And with each pump of his hand, he shoved back into the dildo, relishing the burning stretch of it, the feeling of fullness as it reached deep inside him.
He’d picked his larger dildo—clear with red, white, and blue sparkles—the Captain America Special. The bottom of the suction cup was even designed to look like the hero’s shield. It claimed to be modeled after the real thing, though Bucky couldn’t imagine Steve Rogers sitting down to get his dick cast.
It was nice to pretend, though—and pretend he did.
Fucking himself open on the rubber cock, he imagined the hero behind him instead, his large hands gripping his waist with bruising force. And whether it was true or not, the Captain America in his mind had a filthy mouth, and Bucky loved it.
Lips parted, the dildo knocking grunts from his throat, Bucky’s balls began to draw up and heat and tension pooled in his gut and back. He didn’t know whether he wanted to shove back onto the dildo or fuck forward into his fist.
His feet started to slip, and he had to adjust, grabbing at the curtain like it would keep him from falling, but he managed to right himself, getting back into a rhythm. The dildo was hitting just the right spot, his hole feeling so stretched and fucked out. He was always left loose and gaping after fucking himself with this one.
Just thinking about that, imagining Captain America unloading in his ass, come dribbling from his spent hole, sent him tipping over the edge, and he convulsed on the dildo, shooting come into the hot spray of the shower.
Taking his hand off his cock, he sagged against the wall, dildo still half inside him. He eased off it, feeling his hole flutter. Muscles feeling like goo, but in the best way, he rinsed off one more time, then shut off the water, getting out to dry off.
Thankfully, he had the next few days off work, the garage was going to close for renovations, so he would be able to climb into bed and sleep as much as he wanted—or maybe he’d eat his weight in ice cream and rewatch Lord of the Rings.
After drying his hair, leaving it hanging damp near his shoulders, the ends curling lightly, he wrapped the towel around his waist and walked over to the shower, pulling back the curtain to retrieve his dildo, just in case he had company—not that he ever did. Alpine—his one-eared white cat—was the only one likely to come in the bathroom, and even then, it would only be to shit in the tub—since the cat was a complete dick.
Breaking the suction, he pulled the dildo from the wall with a pop, then walked over to the sink to rinse it off. He dropped it in the basin, then turned on the water, letting it run over it as he grabbed his toothbrush because he was a master at multitasking.
Brushing his teeth with one hand, minty white foam dribbling from the corner of his mouth, he turned the dildo around in the stream of water with his other, humming to himself.
Then, the last thing Bucky could imagine happening did. The room began to suddenly sway, and his visions started to cloud as warmth spread through him. Distantly, the fact he was twenty-five next week flitted through his mind.
Dildo falling from his hand into the sink, horror struck him.
Please tell him he was wrong. He was not ready to meet his soulmate—not like this.
But then everything went black, and when he opened his eyes again, he was in someone else’s body—someone who had to be his soulmate.
He didn’t even have time to blink or register his surroundings before he got slammed into by something unforgiving and cold—definitely metal. Unprepared, not that he could imagine you could prepare for that blow, he tumbled back and landed on the floor, lungs burning for breath.
Blinking, he tried to assess what the fuck was going on—if he was in danger. Lifting his head from the floor, he could see they were in an ample space that looked like a training room, then making him sputter, he saw none other than Iron Man fly low over his prone form, landing with a thunk next to him.
No longer feeling stunned, he was able to take quick stock, noticing that the nagging ache in his shoulder was absent for the first time since his motorcycle accident. God, he’d forgotten what it felt like not to be in pain.
Getting himself to his elbows, he frowned, then rolled as he pushed himself to sit. “What the actual fuck?” he said to no one, still trying to get a grip. He’d gone from a great orgasm to getting plowed into by Iron Man—anyone would have whiplash after that.
Squinting at the Iron Man armor like somehow that would explain this whole thing, he said, “The media’s right—you are a dick. That fucking hurt, you know.”
Iron Man’s faceplate flipped open, revealing a confused-looking Tony Stark. “Uh, I’d say language,” he said, then motioned to Bucky as a whole, “but something bigger seems to be going on. Your newfound use for the word fuck aside, you never let me get a hit on you like that. So what gives, winghead?”
Then a calm female voice came from behind, “He’s right. Are you sure you’re feeling okay—not hiding some injury or did you let Loki get too close again?”
Face twisting, he clambered to his feet, his body feeling wrong and too big. It was throwing him off balance. And, Jesus, his soulmate had some muscles, that was for sure. Then turning to face the woman, something electric danced over his skin. He recognized her, too.
Another Avenger. The Black Widow.
Frowning, he glanced around the room, seeing a shield he’d know anywhere discarded on the floor. The universe had to be kidding him.
Then he dared to look down at himself, seeing the familiar red, white, and blue of Captain America’s uniform. His brain blue screened for a moment before kicking back online. Then, patting the padded suit, feeling the muscles flex beneath it, he breathed, “Fuck me. What the actual fuck—am I Captain America right now?”
There was a whoosh, then the Falcon landed next to Iron Man, and a moment later, Hawkeye hopped down the scaffolding on the far wall, coming to join them. They were all looking at Bucky like he’d grown another head.
This whole situation was surreal—and he had no idea how to handle it. This was so above his pay grade—he was just a self-taught mechanic in Brooklyn. So why the fuck did the universe pair him with an Avenger?
Black Widow frowned, looking at the others. “I think we should get Bruce up here to check him out. That blow to the head yesterday must’ve not healed right.”
Bucky wrinkled his nose at the suggestion, not knowing who Bruce was but also not interested in someone poking him. He’d had enough of that with his prosthetic arm. Speaking of—icy dread spread through his veins—if he was in Steve Rogers’ body, that meant that the literal Captain America was in Bucky’s well fucked one, the dildo that he’d just split himself open on laying in the sink.
Then, just to drive the point home, Bucky breathed for a second time, “Fuck me.”
Then with a groan, he gripped his hair that was too short and unfamiliar, dropping to his knees. There was no coming back from this.
The spinning sensation stopped, and a chill passed through Steve, and when he blinked, the room coming into focus, he found himself in a bathroom—in a body that definitely wasn’t his.
For starters, immediately, he noticed his view of the world was off—the angle lower than he was used to. His body felt lighter in general, too, leaner.
Tongue sweeping over his lip, he caught a glob of toothpaste, making him grimace. Then, looking down, he realized a toothbrush was in his right hand. Frowning, he dropped it as he scraped his tongue over his teeth that felt wrong.
There was a nagging ache in his shoulder that spread to his spine. Instinctively, he rolled the joint, trying to relieve the discomfort to no avail, then pausing in shock when he realized something about the whole arm felt wrong.
His eyes went wide as he lifted his left hand, seeing plated metal silently shifting and adjusting with his movements.
Making a fist, he glanced at the mirror in front of him, unable to see much through the fog that clouded it. One thing he was sure of, though, was that the man looking back at him was not Steve Rogers, which left a gaping question of who it could be and what it meant.
Mind whirling with impossible thoughts—Steve looked at the facts before him and reached the only conclusion that made sense, though it excited and terrified him in equal parts.
If this had happened to anyone else, he’d have immediately explained it as a soul swap, but it didn’t seem possible for Steve—because he’d been so sure that he’d missed his chance years ago. Even SHIELD had noted that his soulmate had likely swapped while Steve was in the ice, subsequently dying or failing to connect altogether.
It had been something that had haunted him since waking up in the future—so this—getting the chance he never had—it meant everything, and it was honestly overwhelming.
Goosebumps chased over his arms, and he shivered, causing him to notice the lack of clothing and damp skin. His soulmate must have just gotten out of the shower as the bathroom was still a little steamy, though a cool draft blew in from the gap in the door.
Then shifting as he looked around, he felt an odd sensation between his cheeks. His asshole twinged with something that could only be described as a satisfying ache, feeling almost loose and puffy, like it had just been well fucked.
A blush that he wasn’t used to—that didn’t follow the patterns it did on his own body—colored his cheeks and neck.
Without thinking, he tried to tighten his loose hole, flexing it a little, enjoying the feeling more than he should. It wasn’t like this was his body.
His thoughts began to drift, though, and suddenly, all he could imagine was being the one to wreck his soulmate’s ass like this—leaving him aching and wanting for more.
Mouth dry, he tried to swallow, then noticing the water was still running, he looked down and shut it off, eyes falling on a giant rubber dildo in the sink—a dildo that had his shield on the base.
His mouth parted as he imagined where it had just been.
Christ, get a hold of yourself, Rogers.
Something about that made him feel possessive, though—satisfying something deep inside him, knowing that his soulmate had something connected to him, and they hadn’t even met.
And he couldn’t help but think that if the dildo left his soulmate’s ass feeling this wrecked, the real thing was going to leave him gaping and walking crooked for days. Steve couldn’t wait to find out for sure.
Though maybe he was getting ahead of himself.
First, he needed to deal with the dildo in the sink—he doubted his soulmate wanted it left in there for someone to find.
So since it looked pretty clean, Steve picked it up by the base, giving it a jiggle to shake any water droplets off, his nose wrinkling as he held it in front of him.
“Now where to put you,” he murmured to himself, looking around.
Eyeing the suction cup at the base, Steve frowned, then reached out and stuck it to the counter by the ceramic toothbrush holder. It made a wet sort of sound as it attached, swaying slightly like a palm tree in the wind. Except it was a rubber penis—a penis that seemed to be staring at him.
Scrunching his nose, he poked it, pushing it toward the wall, making it bend, then letting go, so it could spring back. He snorted a little, shaking his head, then sighed as he studied the problem again. He couldn’t just leave it standing there like an obscene statue on the sink.
He could go look through his soulmate’s drawers for a place to put it, but that seemed like an invasion of privacy, but he couldn’t really leave a patriotic penis just sticking up next to the faucet. Crease forming between his brows, he looked around, eyes catching a washcloth hanging off a towel bar.
Snorting to himself, Steve draped the cloth over the dildo—because despite what the world believed, he was definitely a little shit—and then turned to find some clothes.
When he got to the bedroom, a white cat with one ear came zipping out from under the bed, grabbing a dirty sock and rolling, then running out of the room. Steve raised a brow, shaking his head, then headed for the dresser.
The ache in his shoulder was persistent, and it made him feel sympathy for what his soulmate must go through every day. He seemed like a survivor, though, and Steve could appreciate that.
Finding some clothes, he tried not to look down as he got dressed, wanting to respect his soulmate’s privacy. The man was probably mortified enough that he’d been caught with his proverbial pants down.
Once he was dressed, a pair of worn jeans that fit like a second skin, a white undershirt, and a red flannel open over the top, he went to look for a phone. Honestly, he was a little worried the team might stick his soulmate in the Hulk cell, thinking he’d been compromised by now—no one would expect him to have a soul swap.
Three hours later, Steve had talked to Tony and explained—apparently Bucky, that was his soulmate’s name—had made it pretty clear he wasn’t Steve, and they’d believed him.
Walking back into the tower, Steve headed up to his floor where he’d been told Bucky was waiting. JARVIS had relayed that his soulmate had been pacing and patting down his body. Steve thought it was endearing.
They didn’t need to wait much longer to fix this, thankfully. Once they touched for the first time, the swap would reverse, so they would both be back in their own bodies.
Which meant that Steve would have a chance to meet Bucky for real and hopefully hit it off.
Because he’d never been all that patient, and right now, the only thing he wanted was to see Bucky’s expression as he worked him open on his fingers and cock—maybe even his tongue. He wanted to watch the man come apart as he buried himself deep enough for Bucky to taste it.
And maybe he’d be more controlled if he hadn’t found himself in Bucky’s body with a well fucked hole, but he had, and now that’s all he could think about.
When the door to the elevator opened, he took a breath, feeling his cock—Bucky’s cock—heavy and half hard in his jeans. Then, adjusting himself, he moved deeper into the apartment to find Bucky.
And no matter how hard he might have tried, he couldn’t prepare himself for seeing his own body—still in his uniform—standing in front of him, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, pink spots high on his cheeks, eyes dark. Somehow, he hadn’t noticed Steve arriving.
It was strange to watch someone else touch and explore your body from the outside—not being able to feel it—though that didn’t mean Steve wasn’t enjoying the show.
A little breathy moan escaped Bucky’s parted lips as one of his hands rubbed the Kevlar over his groin, the bulge noticeable, even through the padded suit. His dick had always been imposing. It once looked too big on his small frame, but the serum had changed that, making his body and cock impossibly larger.
Since coming out of the ice, he’d met up with a few men, just to scratch the itch—because, since the serum, his sex drive had been through the roof. And most of those men had taken one look at his enormous cock and opted for mutual hand jobs rather than trying to take him any other way. Honestly, he could understand where they were coming from, but from the size of the dildo Bucky had been using on himself, he didn’t think his soulmate would shy away from the challenge.
As strange and oddly arousing as it was to watch himself whimper and rut through the fabric of his suit, it would start to get weird if he didn’t announce himself soon. Besides, if he got any harder, the skin-tight jeans would cut off circulation to his dick—and he figured Bucky wouldn’t appreciate that once he got back into his body.
Shifting, feeling the denim pull over his cock, Steve cleared his throat, watching as his soulmate’s eyes snapped open, his hand dropping away from his crotch.
Bucky’s lips parted as he visibly struggled with what to do next, but Steve took pity on him. His mouth curling into a smile, his eyes fell to the bulge in the uniform, then moved to his face, though the expression he wore made him look younger somehow.
“So,” Steve started, trying not to laugh at his soulmate’s expense. “I’ll take that”—he motioned to the hard-on—“as a compliment.” Then he did laugh, shaking his head when Bucky tried shifting as if it would somehow make it go away. It was futile, though. Steve had been living with the effects of the serum for a long time and knew that erections didn’t just go away on their own. It’s why he kept a small bottle of lube in his pocket.
“Um, it wasn’t what it looked like?” Bucky said, though it came out more like a question.
Steve shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, but, um, before we get started—because I think there’s a lot to talk about—do you want to, you know, shake hands, so we can get back into our own bodies?”
Bucky sagged, seeming relieved, then tried brushing the hair off his forehead, though it fell right back into place. “It’s really fucking weird to look at yourself.” Then he paused, head tipping to the side, his gaze raking over Steve. “Well, shit, those pants must be pinching the fuck out of my dick right now.”
Steve wrinkled his nose, reaching down for another awkward readjust. “Yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t realize this would be a problem—though seeing you in the mirror, I should’ve.”
Bucky ducked his head, a blush Steve was intimately familiar with touching his neck and ears. “Let’s just shake hands and start there.”
Ignoring the discomfort in his pants, Steve met Bucky partway, extending his hand. Tentatively, they touched, and just like when it had happened the first time, warmth spread through him as he got dizzy.
Everything went black for a second, he blinked, and then he was back in his own body, the gnawing ache of Bucky’s left shoulder gone. A pang of sympathy cut through him at thinking that now Bucky had to deal with it again, and he made a note to talk to Tony. With all the man’s connections, there had to be something more to be done about his soulmate’s chronic pain.
The second thing he noticed was his rock-hard cock, straining against his suit, followed by the absence of the slight ache he’d had in his ass—the feeling of being well fucked. Steve rarely bottomed, but he could appreciate the lingering sensations of being stretched and used.
And now that he wasn’t in Bucky’s body, he could really look at his soulmate and take in every detail he’d missed in the mirror. The slight scruff to his cheeks helped define his jaw, and on his chin was the tiniest dimple. And his eyes—the color of the sea during a storm. Steve could get lost in them.
And licking his lips, he noticed that they were still holding hands, Bucky’s warm, calloused fingers curled around his—he didn’t want to let go.
Swallowing, Bucky tightened his hold on Steve’s hand, then, looking at where they were joined, said, “I don’t want to ruin the moment, but did you, um, take care of the—you know—thing?”
Steve lifted his brows, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. He ran his thumb over the edge of Bucky’s hand—enjoying the connection. “You mean the penis of patriotism? The cock of freedom? The dildo of—”
“Enough,” Bucky laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, that. I hadn’t even been thinking about turning twenty-five. I might have been more cautious if I had.”
Steve shrugged, wanting to reach out and touch. But, instead, his eyes followed Bucky’s Adam’s apple as it bobbed. He’d like to trace it with his tongue. “It was… surprising, to say the least, but not in a bad way, though I think you’ve probably noticed that the real deal is much more impressive.”
Bucky’s tongue peeked out to wet his lips. “Would you think I was a slut if I wanted you to prove it? We are soulmates, after all. The pull between us will only get worse until we give in and fuck.”
A tiny breath slipped out from between his lips. “You can be a slut for my cock anytime you want, sweetheart.”
Bucky’s eyes were dark, his voice raspy and thick with desire as he breathed, “I want to—can I kiss you?”
Something primal and possessive flickered inside him as he grinned. “I’m going to wreck you, honey. You have no idea.”
Then he reached up, gripping Bucky’s neck and tugging the man in for a bruising kiss—one unlike any other. This one connected to his soul.
Bucky kept up with the intense pace of the kiss for a minute, meeting him nip for nip, sucking each other’s tongues and lips, but then he started to fall back, letting Steve take the lead.
And then they fell into something gentler, slower, and more controlled. It was almost like a man starved of water, getting his first drink and nearly spilling the glass in excitement, then once the initial thirst was quenched, going a little slower.
Steve’s hands started to roam Bucky’s body, and beginning with the flannel shirt, he slid it off, letting it fall to the floor. Then he moved on to sucking bruises along Bucky’s neck, enjoying the woody scent from his body wash.
Bucky pawed at Steve’s suit, pulling back a little. “This needs to be off yesterday.”
Steve grunted his agreement, biting a red mark onto Bucky’s neck before letting him go and making quick work of his uniform. While he did that, Bucky took the initiative to strip, too, seeming to have no shame at Steve seeing him naked—probably because Steve had already been made intimately aware of a lot of his body by being in it.
Bucky’s lips parted, breathing out a little puff of air. “Fuck me—I didn’t get a real look at you when we were swapped, but shit. You’re like some kind of god.”
He licked his lips. “Well, I’ll have you praying to me soon—calling my name while I rearrange your insides with my cock.”
Swallowing, Bucky nodded. “Yes, please, that would be very good. I’ll take two with a side of fries.”
Steve huffed, putting his hands on Bucky and walking him toward the bed until the back of his knees hit the mattress. “Why do I think you’re gonna be trouble?”
Bucky grinned. “What? Worried you can’t handle your soulmate?”
“I really should take my time with you, but I’ve been thinking about that dildo and your ass since we swapped—been thinking how pretty your hole must have looked all stretched taut around it.”
“Felt good,” Bucky breathed, falling back onto the bed, propped on his elbows, looking up at Steve through his ridiculously thick lashes. They should be criminal. “I was thinking about you, you know. I bought it because they said it was supposed to be modeled after you.”
Raking his eyes over Bucky, seeing his cock, hard and red, laying against his stomach, Steve clicked his tongue, chastising. “Must have been a shock to feel how big the real thing was. Did you take it out when we swapped—give it a good look—or did you wait like a good boy?”
“Good boy—I was good—but I could feel how big it was—wanted it in me.”
Humming, Steve went to the nightstand, got the lube, and tossed it next to Bucky, then draped himself over his soulmate, dragging his nose along the column of his throat until his forehead rested on Bucky’s collarbone. “You have no idea how much I want that. I thought I missed my chance with my soulmate—but here you are—perfect.”
Bucky curled his arms around Steve, one metal and the other flesh, smoothing them over his back. “You’re everything I was scared to want,” Bucky whispered. “Missing parts isn’t exactly a selling point, you know?”
Steve lifted his head, meeting Bucky’s gaze. “Well, I’m glad because you’re mine—but you could be missing both arms, and I’d still think you were perfect.”
Nodding tightly, Bucky ran his hands over Steve’s sides, then rolled his hips. Bucky’s cock didn’t feel as hard as before, but Steve enjoyed a little challenge.
Letting the conversation drop for now, though he didn’t doubt that they’d revisit Bucky’s insecurities again, Steve began kissing Bucky’s chest, careful of getting too close to where the metal met flesh. The area hadn’t had much sensation when Steve was in his body, but he didn’t want to risk bringing up bad memories. It was just another thing they’d need to talk about in the future.
But right now, his soul was reaching out for Bucky’s, begging for them to connect, and he couldn’t put it off any longer.
He flicked his tongue over the hard bud of Bucky’s nipple, earning him a breathy gasp and Bucky’s hips thrusting into his stomach. Getting a reaction from him was addicting—like the best drugs—and he wanted more.
Alternating biting, sucking, and rolling the buds between his fingers, he worked Bucky into a frenzy, drawing whimpers and catching gasps as Bucky tried to push his chest closer to Steve’s mouth. Knowing that he was the one causing the undoing of his soulmate made something burn hot in Steve.
“Fuck,” Bucky breathed, opening his eyes and lifting his head to look at Steve. He reached for him, twisting his fingers in Steve’s hair and tugging as he whined. “Get up here. I want to suck that anaconda you call a dick.”
Open mouthed, Steve laughed. “Do you kiss your ma with that mouth?”
“Shut up and get your dick up here already.”
Climbing up the bed, Steve grabbed a pillow and tucked it under Bucky’s head, then positioned himself beside him. Of course, it wasn’t the best position, but this wasn’t the main event anyway—not that Steve couldn’t get hard again quickly.
Holding himself at the base and using his thumb to push his cock down toward Bucky’s mouth, Steve bit his lip and said, “Be careful—can’t have my soulmate choking.”
Bucky picked his head up a hair, just enough to lap the pre-come from the tip of his dick, sending a jolt through him. He smiled. “I have a feeling you’d like a few tears. Besides, I think I can handle it.”
Groaning, Steve fought the urge to push right into his mouth, though his patience was thinning. His balls already felt heavy, everything tense with the need to thrust and take. “Let’s take it easy the first time.”
And then Bucky’s mouth was on him, slow at first, just barely suckling the head. Then he opened his jaw wide and stretched his lips thin around his girth. Humming, Bucky gripped Steve’s hips, guiding him deeper. Despite his bravado, he couldn’t fit the whole thing in his mouth, though he did make some obscene noises around it. Not choking but nearly.
It took all Steve’s willpower not to thrust. Bucky was already going to have a sore jaw—he didn’t need a fucked out throat, too. At least not this time—they could work up to that—and there were better positions, anyway.
One hand clutching at Bucky’s hair, his other hand bracing himself on the headboard, Steve squeezed his eyes shut, panting as he spoke, “Buck, hey, I’m not gonna last much longer.”
Bucky looked at him through his lashes, which were now clumped with tears—and fuck, that was a good look on him—and popped off, nearly getting hit in the nose by Steve’s cock to say, “Would you still be able to fuck me after?”
He nodded quickly, eyes on Bucky’s swollen lips. “I can go back to back.”
Bucky took Steve’s cock in hand. “Then I don’t see a problem.”
“Do you want me to—um, should I warn you?”
Bucky jerked him slowly, making Steve’s hips jump forward. His soulmate grinned. “The only thing I want is for you to come down my throat. You think you can do that, Stevie?”
The shock of the nickname knocked a laugh out of him. “Yeah, I can do that, but then it’s my turn to wreck you. I can’t wait to watch that pretty little hole of yours open up and take me.”
Bucky groaned, guiding Steve’s cock to his lips. “You’re gonna make me embarrass myself, and I’m not even going to complain.”
Steve threaded his fingers in Bucky’s hair, tugging hard. “You talk an awful lot for someone who should be sucking my dick.”
Rolling his eyes, Bucky smirked, then took him down again, deeper this time, deep enough to make him gag. Steve was careful to follow Bucky’s lead, letting his soulmate set the pace. The tension and tight heat began to build in his gut again, and his balls started to draw up.
Wet noises and Bucky’s heavy breathing through his nose were the only sounds—that and the headboard creaking under Steve’s grip.
Then Bucky slid his metal hand from Steve’s hip, going to his balls and tugging, and that was it. With an animalistic noise, Steve grit his teeth, splintering the wooden headboard as he came in Bucky’s mouth, jolting and twitching when Bucky swallowed around him. He was always sensitive after an orgasm, more so since the serum. Everything had been dialed up, after all.
His spit-damp skin felt chilled in the air compared to the hot heat of Bucky’s mouth, but just looking at his soulmate with his thick lashes and well fucked lips was warming him back up fast. In fact, it wasn’t going to take much to get him hard again.
Bucky rolled onto an elbow, grinning. “Not half-bad, huh?”
Huffing out a laugh, Steve dragged his fingertips along Bucky’s exposed side, making him twitch. Ticklish, then—Steve noted it for later. “More than okay—amazing—but then again, you do have the prettiest mouth, seems only right it would be good for sucking cock, too.”
Bucky slid his hand down to his neglected dick, jerking himself a few times. “Does anyone else know what a filthy mouth Captain America has?”
Grinning, Steve knocked Bucky’s hand away, earning him a grunt of dismay, then manhandled Bucky onto his stomach, shoving a pillow under his hips. “Captain America would never, but Steve Rogers has been getting his mouth washed out with soap since he could talk.”
Bucky laughed as he wriggled, adjusting his arms, so they were folded and his forehead could rest on them. “Sounds about right—so you jumping straight into things, huh? Good ole doggy style—not that I’m complaining. Just curious.”
Steve’s large hands slid over Bucky’s exposed cheeks, tugging them apart just a touch with each pass, allowing a tiny glimpse at his hole. He couldn’t tear his eyes away—the sight made his throat and mouth feel like a desert. Then, with a sandpaper voice, he answered, “Oh, we aren’t just jumping right in, though maybe you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Bucky pushed back into his hands encouragingly, murmuring into his arms, “God, yes.”
Steve let his thumbs slide toward his hole, allowing him a better grip to spread his cheeks wide, exposing his little pink pucker, still looking a little soft from its fucking earlier. Though a bit of sadness went through Steve when he saw it wasn’t still puffy like he’d hoped. That was okay, though. His asshole would be wrecked for days when he was done with him.
“I think for today, I’m going to start by tasting you—getting you all hot and loose from my tongue—though that shouldn’t be too hard since your such a slut and fucked yourself open this morning.”
“Yes—oh, god. Please, please, please.” Apparently, Bucky wasn’t past begging for it. Another mental note was made. Maybe it would be fun to bring him to the edge once or twice before finally getting his prize. “I haven’t had it in so long. None of the guys I’ve dated were interested.”
Steve squeezed the flesh in his hands. “I’d rather not think about you with other men right now.” Then shoved Bucky forward, getting his hips in the proper position. “I guess I’ll just need to make you forget all about them.”
And without any more warning, Steve lowered himself to the bed, spreading Bucky’s cheeks and just marveling at the perfect man that was created just for him. His little hole couldn’t quite close all the way with the tension from Steve’s hands holding him open—there was just the tiniest gap. Unable to stop himself, Steve rubbed the dry pad of his index finger over it, just wanting to test the ring of muscle.
It slipped right in up to the first knuckle, even without lube. It wouldn’t take much at all to get Bucky ready for him. He’d probably be fine with just his tongue and a little fingering, but Steve wanted to be careful. The last thing he wanted to do was actually hurt him. Leaving him limping for the day was acceptable, though, and something Steve secretly hoped for. He liked the idea of marking him somehow—leaving a lasting impression.
A breathy moan escaped from Bucky, and his hips canted, trying to chase Steve’s finger as he pulled it free. “Patience is a virtue.”
“I have a feeling you wouldn’t recognize a virtue if it punched you in the face,” Bucky murmured.
Steve laughed, loving how perfectly they fit. “I’ll give you that one.”
Then unable to wait any longer, Steve leaned in and licked a broad stripe from Bucky’s taint to the top of his crack. It had been a long time since Steve had done this for someone, and it was one of the things he’d always liked. And Bucky was perfect. He smelled like soap, but there was still the hint of musk that was natural for the area, his skin tasting a little salty and almost earthy, but not in an unpleasant way. There was something grounding and honest about it.
And after the first taste, Steve wanted more, and their soulmate connection flared.
He dove in with vigor after the first pass, focusing on Bucky’s rim, flicking his tongue around it, feeling how soft it was against his tongue, how willing to give. God, he couldn’t wait to feel him around his cock. Even having come once already, he wasn’t going to last long once they started.
Bucky’s thighs started to tremble, and the noises coming out of him were pure filth, begging and nonsensical as he pushed back into Steve’s face, and Steve welcomed him. He stiffened his tongue and shoved it into his hole, earning a howl from Bucky.
Once Bucky was loose and soaked with spit, Steve hooked his thumb in Bucky’s hole, stretching it downward, causing Bucky to shout, “Oh, fuck. Jesus that feels good.”
“Not too much?”
“No, it’s the good kinda burn—I gotta have it.” Bucky’s voice was shaking. “I don’t need more prep.”
Reaching with his other hand for the lube, Steve kept rubbing Bucky’s rim with his thumb, softening the muscle. And once he found the lube, he withdrew the digit to coat a few fingers, then pushed two straight in with no warning, trusting Bucky’s word that he could handle it.
And like a champ, Bucky’s hole opened up for him, nearly pulling him inside. And fuck, was the inside of his soulmate soft and warm. He worked the two fingers for a minute, then added another, causing Bucky to really start fucking back into him with force. Steve had to steady him with his free hand. “Easy, almost there.”
Bucky growled. “Just put it in me already.”
“Nope,” Steve said with a grin, enjoying Bucky’s frustrated huff. “Not gonna hurt you—never gonna hurt you. I take care of my things.”
“Well, if you don’t want me to combust, you better put some more in me. You know I can take it.”
Acknowledging him with a hum, Steve slipped his pinky into the mix, curling his hand a little. And just like everything else, Steve had big hands, so this wasn’t an easy stretch. He paused to put a little more lube on his fingers, then began working his hand in up to the knuckles, which should be more than enough stretch.
He was pretty sure Bucky was close to sobbing by the time he withdrew his hand with a wet noise, then wiped the excess lube on the bed. He could wash it later. Grabbing the pillow from under Bucky’s hips, he pulled it free, tossing it to the floor, then gripped him and rolled him onto his back.
The sight that greeted him had his cock aching for touch. Bucky’s face was flushed, and his sweat-soaked hair was clinging to his face, eyes nothing but dark pools. “About time. I’ve been ready for the last twenty minutes.”
Rolling his eyes, Steve grabbed the lube, then paused. “I can’t catch or carry anything, but do you want a condom for the mess?”
Bucky huffed. “Normally, yeah, but I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t get the full experience first.”
“You’re gonna look real nice all bred up. Come dribbling out that hole.”
Bucky wet his lips. “Stop teasing and get inside me.”
Steve didn’t need to be told twice.
Slicking himself, he pushed one of Bucky’s legs back toward the man’s chest, coaxing him to grab it behind the knee, holding himself open. Then Steve laid the other against his shoulder, giving him full access. Lining himself up with the sweet little pucker, he pushed past the weak resistance until the head of his cock popped inside.
He wasn’t going to last long at all—not with how Bucky’s body seemed to melt around him, welcoming him home like he’d been waiting.
Bucky scrambled with his free hand to grab at Steve, trying to pull him closer, so breathing out shakily, Steve pushed further inside, giving him what he wanted. Even with the prep and fucking this morning, it was still a tight fit, and when he looked down, his lips parted at the sight of Bucky’s hole stretched taut and almost white around him.
This man was going to kill him—death by perfection.
“Move, please.” Bucky’s voice sounded wrecked, breaking apart at the seams.
Steve shushed him. “Almost all the way in.”
“Fuck,” Bucky cursed. “It feels like you’re in my throat already.”
Steve chuckled lightly, then rocked forward until his hips were flush with Bucky’s ass. Then, panting, he had to pause to catch his breath. He’d fucked a lot of men, a few women, too, but none of them felt like this. And not to be poetic, but it felt like the connection went from his cock to his soul, and he supposed that maybe it did. They were meant for each other, after all. The perfect match.
Once Bucky seemed to adjust, he slowly dragged himself back out, then rocked forward again, setting a slow pace—partly so he didn’t pop off too soon. Bucky mewled and whimpered, eyes squeezed shut, bottom lip caught between his teeth. The cords of his neck stood out as he threw his head back into the mattress, one of his hands trying to reach his dick.
“I got you, sweetheart,” Steve breathed, reaching down to curl a hand around Bucky’s cock.
Bucky peeled his eyes open, looking at him with parted lips as he panted. “I need—this is nice, but I want to feel it. Come on. I’m close, and you promised to wreck me, so do it already, Captain.”
“I won’t last long,” he warned.
Bucky threw his head back and moaned when Steve slightly changed the angle. Then Bucky met his gaze again, shaking his head. “Don’t care—I’m not gonna last either—just want to feel it for days.”
“Fuck,” Steve breathed. “You might regret that.”
“Try me,” Bucky challenged, then his eyes went wide when Steve grabbed him by the back of the thighs and pushed his legs forward, nearly folding him in half.
Barely controlling his strength, Steve began to pound into him, drawing a litany of breathy curses and whimpers from Bucky. It was almost enough to cause Steve to break into a sweat.
“Right there,” Bucky choked. “Yeah, that’s the spot. So close.”
Steve kept up the pace, keeping Bucky pinned to the bed. Of course, not everyone could get off untouched, but Steve hoped Bucky could. For some reason, the idea that his cock alone was able to bring him that kind of pleasure ticked his boxes.
Bucky’s fingers were digging into Steve’s arms and shoulders, clinging to him like a life raft, and Steve was more than happy to be his salvation.
With his own orgasm approaching, Steve doubled down on his efforts, trying to hit that spot that made Bucky’s eyes roll back and his breath catch.
Bucky’s legs began to tremble, and his face scrunched in concentration.
“That’s it,” Steve murmured. “Such a slut for it, aren’t you? Can’t help but come from my cock. Bet you can’t wait for me to fill you up—breed you up good. A filthy boy like you would like that, wouldn’t you?”
And that was all it took. Bucky convulsed, head thrown back, as he came between them, his ass tightening rhythmically around Steve’s cock, trying to milk him.
Already on edge, that extra sensation was enough to push Steve over, too, and he grit his teeth, shoving himself as deep as he could and filling his soulmate up. He’d never felt closer to someone in his life.
It felt like he pumped him full for minutes, but it was probably only one, though he did come a lot.
Panting, he slid his softening cock from Bucky’s ass, still holding back his legs so he could look at his work. Bucky’s hole was puffy and well used, gaping a little from the thorough fucking, come and lube dripping down his crack. Unable to stop himself, he trailed his fingers through it, dragging some back up and pushing it back inside, absently wishing he’d had a plug nearby to keep it all in.
Bucky’s rough voice dragged his attention away.
“I think I need a nap after that.”
Steve chuckled, finger still rubbing at Bucky’s abused rim. He hummed idly. “We can do that.” Then glancing at Bucky, he smiled. “So, was I better than the dildo?”
Bucky laughed hard, forcing out a little more come that Steve quickly pushed back inside. “Nothing beats the real thing. That’s for sure.”