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It was a bad idea. Steve should have known.
~
It all started with Steve wanting to do something for Bucky. He was pretty sure that Bucky has forgotten that today was their anniversary, that it has been a year since it all started. A year since all the kissing and touching had become more than just acts of mere affection, a year since Steve was more than just a best friend or a brother to Bucky.
He pretended that he was fast asleep when Bucky tried to call him up in the morning, trying to wake Steve up before he went to work. He would tell Steve how much he loved him before he started his shift at the dock, everyday, even before their romantic relationship began. And today, Bucky scratches his head, slightly dazed at how resilient the blonde seems to be, when usually Steve’s the first to wake up.
Bucky just plants a kiss on his forehead before walking away from the bed. He makes sure to glance over his shoulder before closing the door, leaving Steve behind, like a protective measure.
Once Steve hears the front door shut, he abruptly gets up from the bed, brushes his teeth and takes a quick shower. He feels bad enough to pretend that he was asleep, but he didn't want anything to come in the way of his plans today. He got his art bag and rushed out of the door with whatever money he had left, every single penny from his savings taken out and placed into his bag.
He didn’t want to take the day off, not when he needs the money for the surprise that he’s planning to hand over to Bucky later, he’ll need every buck that he can afford if he decides to continue with his plan.
He walks out in his usual coat, which underneath it was a loose pair of shirt and pants. He doesn’t seem to care if people look at him as a tiny kid anymore as it makes no difference, and it's not because they always do and nothing in the world can change that, but because he’s got a mission to accomplish. He’ll make sure that he gets his month’s pay today, after finishing up another sketch for the front cover of the comic book series that he’s working on.
Those at work, although they might not look at him as an equal, they’ve learn to admire his persistence, his way of being a perfectionist when it comes to his artwork.
Rogers takes out all of his art supplies, his pencils and his rulers. His erasers and his paintbrushes, his ink and his tracing paper. Bucky loves how serious Steve gets when it comes to his artwork. He likes how Steve pays his utmost attention to whatever he’s doing, because for Bucky that’s sexy in a way. He likes watching Steve working his way around papers, fingers firmly gripping pencils and sketching out random shapes that slowly turn into such meaningful, admirable images. Bucky loves it when Steve draws him, he gets everything right as if he has spent his entire life studying every single detail that Barnes has on himself.
It takes Steve 6 whole hours to finish off what he started in the morning, the shape of the face was no longer in pencil, it was now filled with pigmented black ink that was put on with his brushes. Every single line, every single detail. It curved and twisted, both straight and bent.
The character had its shape all right, its face was proportional looking up, facing the audience, while its body was standing tall, as if it was ready to spring into action, to fight against its nemesis. The antihero had his muzzle over his mouth, his eyes covered behind some sort of black war paint. His metal fingers holding up a gun firmly, his other hand flung low as if one hand was good enough, strong enough to shoot with a gun and not having to worry about the momentum of the gun moving backwards after firing shots.
He handed the newly painted cover to his supervisor, he claimed his month’s pay which was a total of nearly 12 dollars. He knows that with a few more dollars in his bag, he could easily have 20 to 25 dollars with him right now, just enough money to get what he wanted.
Steve walks to the shop that he has pried over for the past few days. It wasn’t in the heart of the town. No, Steve wouldn’t dare to enter such a shop if he knew everyone would be able to see what he was planning to buy. The people that he knew would realise that there was something fishy going on, especially when Steve didn’t have a girlfriend. He didn’t have any business going into a woman’s lingerie shop, no business picking a set out when he has no one specific to give it to, right?
This shop was slightly quiet, hidden even. The price was a little bit cheaper as well, as not many people know of its existence. He enters the shop, having butterflies in his tummy as he walks in the place for the first time. He looks around, eyeing every piece of clothing that was on display, from slips to panties, from stilettos to make up.
He seemed to be lost.
“How can I help you?” A young woman came to his aid. She had light brown hair, her lipstick was bright red, a smile forming across her face. Her name tag said Jenny.
“I..I … um.. I .. I.. was thinking about getting something special for my m-missus. It..-it’s our an-anniversary today.” Steve couldn’t keep his straight face on, not when he’s blushing at sight of something so alluring like lingerie.
“Oh.. don’t worry, I understand. It’s your first time here right? Don’t worry I’ll help you out.” Steve gave a faint smile, nothing more evident than his lips moving ever so lightly, acknowledging the fact that she is trying to help him. “By the way do you know her size?”
“I’m sorry I don’t know her size, but she’s a bit petite.” Jenny looked at Steve, probably wondering what kind of man wouldn’t know what size of lingerie that his wife adorned herself with. Even if she did, she didn’t show it, because she asked Steve to look at the plastic figures, the dolls in the showcase. There were small dolls and big dolls, probably what they would show to men who knew nothing about the feminine world, but who were still interested in buying something so sensual for the loves of their lives.
He looks at the medium sized doll, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to fit into the size. It would be a bit loose. He didn’t want that, his Bucky should get the best, nothing other than the best. Steve took a glance at the smaller doll, and tried to imagine if he were almost the same size of the mannequin. It would be a little tight for him, but he wouldn’t mind. Maybe he’ll ask if they have anything in between, so that it would fit just nice onto his body.
Besides, Bucky likes his girls that way. All dolled up in something fitting, which brought out the curves of their bodies.
“Something like that. I think. But… maybe something in between the small and the medium one. I don’t want it to be too tight for her.”
“ Yes, in fact we do. Just came in recently actually. Follow me…” Steve followed behind her, walking towards he inner part of the shop, where the lingerie was arranged according to their sizes. “Satin or cotton? The cotton one is slightly cheaper. We also have ones with lace or floral designs. And they exist in all colours, usually most of our customers get white or black.”
~
Steve walks consciously out of the store. His eye movements are rapid, watching over his shoulder, making sure that no one he knows watches him walk out of the store with a bag with a full set of women’s undergarment worth 23 dollars.
And when he reaches home, he puts everything that he has got in his hands onto the small bed that they share, the same bed where Steve used to sleep as a kid. Ever since Joseph Rogers died, Steve would curl up next to his mother until she got sick. She didn’t want Steve to get whatever she was having, more often than not, they both slept alone, unless of course if Bucky came for the night when she went for her night shift in the hospital, as a nurse. Then, Bucky has always kept Steve company.
She was grateful, James was like a son that she never had, a brother for Steve. Bucky’s promised to look after Steve with his life and knowing the boy since he was kid, she knew far too well that he was indeed a man of his word.
She has always looked at the boy as a shelter for Steve, Steve’s older brother, some sort of fatherly figure, a man that Steve could grow up to be because, Bucky was older than Steve and Bucky was nice. He was one of those boys who didn’t change when they started growing, retaining the child-like kindness, sacrificial trait in himself, but at the same time, not as naïve as a kid would be. He was what you could easily call, one of those few good men.
But Steve never saw Bucky that way. He knew he loved Bucky, and for some reason Bucky loved him back, even back then when it was platonic and carnal desires to another human was never a running thought in their minds.
He got to the cupboard to get a bottle of his mother’s old shampoo. He knew he had to be quick because Bucky would be home within an hour or two after working at the docks. He’s hidden it in the closet for so long, afraid that it might bring memories of her at times. But this time, he doesn’t even think about the past. He dashes through the shower with the nearly empty bottle in his right hand and the bottle of shower gel under his armpit.
He presses the tip of the shampoo bottle, where a dollop of scented women’s shampoo dropped onto his palm. He rubbed it into his hair until it was all foamy, the scent filling up the bathroom. Steve doesn’t touch the cheap bar of soap that they- that Bucky and him share every day. He opts for the shower gel instead. He presses the nozzle down, squirting out a blob of red coloured globule. He adds a bit of water, following the steps of how his ma used to wash him up with the exact same type of body cleansing foam when he was just a tiny tot.
He washes the soap away with the cold, icy water after scrubbing away any form of dirt that was layered over his skin. He didn’t have to worry about body hair though, the thought of all of those things over his skin made him blush. Once he was done, he wiped his body, the smell of soap still strong on his skin. He sat down on the bed, with a small tube of unscented lotion.
He applied some of the lotion over his thighs, gently massaging the cool substance against his warm skin, moving slowly from his upper thighs, his lower abdomen, to his shin, his ankles and finally his feet. He rubbed it gently, going in circles and circles, that grew bigger with every stroke. He put some over his arm, his hands, following the exact same movement that he did on his legs, the exact same pressure that he has placed earlier over his lower limbs. He’s seen Sarah Rogers doing it on herself, he’s felt what’s it like when she used to apply some onto his skin, to avoid Steve getting his skin all dry when he was younger.
He can feel how smooth his skin feels, how his fingers slide easily against the blemish free surface, and how his skin isn't so dry anymore. He looks inside of the thick paper bag, taking out everything that he has bought and lays them right beside each other, in the order that he knows he has to put them on.
He knows that he has to start with the brassiere, he picks up the piece of clothing, moves his hands, putting on the bra strap over his shoulders. He puts on the hook, and after realising that it was a little too loose, near the area of his chest, he tugs on the strap, adjusting it a little. He fumbles with its mechanism, not knowing how to make it look all right. When he finally understands how to make it a little bit tighter, he adjusts the strap so that it would like as if the bra was really his. His fingers slide down the silky material, rubbing against the pointed tip of the bra. The bust pads managed to hide the nub of his nipples.
He then takes on the detached garter, pulls it over his slim, smooth legs up to his waist to make sure when he puts on the panties, they would stay in place and fit him nicely. He makes sure that the elastic part was at his hips before putting on the clip attachment. He takes the satin panties and wears them right. The glossy material had its length from his waist up to half his thighs. The lace trimming at the elastic band of the panties were white in colour, which matched his whole set really well. He wanted to get black or white, but he knew far too well that those two colours would never suit him; his skin was too pale to be adorned with white and black would just make him even paler than he already was.
It was when he saw a one of the mannequins in a full blue pastel set, that he realised that he wanted a set of that colour. The endings also had white lace, just like the upper part, with light floral patterns, that would bring out the femininity of any woman. His groin was pressed against the soft fabric, and he could feel how the shape was slightly disfigured with the small arch in the front on the panties. He adjusts his cock, in a way that it is positioned between his legs and his butt cheeks.
He pulls on the stockings, his left leg first, and then only his right one and finally hooking both of the stocking to the garter belt that he had put on earlier. And once he was done, he ran his hand over the satin material, as if he hasn’t gotten enough of touching it. He tugs at the lace ending that was positioned above his knee, gently, feeling the rough texture that constantly reminded him of how good it made him feel.
Next, he took the girdles that were made of rayon. It had elastic panels on the front and back while the other parts were fully rigid. He puts it on, pulling up the zipper. It was tight enough to shape Roger’s abdomen, covering his waist, till it reached past his belly button. If his waist was already slightly small and lady-like before, after putting on the girdle, it made his waist all nicely shaped up like areal woman, the steel bonding at the back gave his body a good posture. He moved his hands on his hips, before running them down his thighs, from rayon material to his hairless skin to the part where the laced stockings covered his skin all over again.
His body shivered.
The final piece was the pastel blue slip, that had lace around the breast area. He easily slides the material over his body, fitting his body perfectly.
Steve walked towards the mirror, he sees his reflection, but he didn’t think much about it. He’s already done all the thinking a month ago, being accompanied by a sleeping Bucky at the middle of the night. He had wondered if Bucky would like what he had in mind, but he never had the courage to ask Bucky. Instead, now, he intends on finding out for sure.
He only took a glance of his reflection in the mirror, nothing more than a stare, just to make sure that he looks okay with the slips on.
He moves to the dusty vanity mirror instead, sitting on the flush chair. He kept his inhaler right next to the old make up materials that were neatly arranged over the dresser. He’s kept the dresser like that ever since his ma died, as if it were a shrine to the memory of her. He first takes the loose powder, dabs it gently over his skin, covering up all those freckles that he hates. He’s been with his ma too long to know what comes after the other, watching her get dressed before going to work. He’s even helped her with it once or twice, but that was when he was still a kid, but of course it wasn’t as good as what he could do now. All those years of painting and drawing has made his fingers all flexible, gentle enough to not hurt his own eyes.
He uses the small, soft brush that was enclosed in the half used eyeshadow container. He takes the lightest colour, like some sort of whitish beige, and applies it to the skin, base of his eyes. He then picks up the second lightest colour, a very light brown and applies it to the inner corner of his eyes. The medium colour, a slightly darker brown covered was used to tone up the edge of eyes a little bit more.
The final colour was the darkest brown that was on the palette. He dabs it in a upward position, trying to make his eyes look a little less droopy. He puts on a thin line after that, over his eyelids with the black pencil. He wasn’t sure if wanted to put on some mascara, as his eyelashes were already long enough, but he was curious what it would fell like. His eyes were already huge, the small frame of his face made them look as if they were about to bulge out any moment, but with the make up over the area of his eyes, it made them as if his eyes were really well fitted into his skull.
He puts on some light pink blush over his powder covered cheeks. Though with how easily he blushes, it wasn't that necessary.
The bright red lipstick was the last one. He remembers what the salesgirl in the lingerie store looked like with the lipstick over her lips. He opens his mouth to a small ovular shape, puts on the the lipstick on his upper lip, and then on his lower lip before pressing both his lips together so that the colour is even. He was careful enough to not get any of the red pigment on the skin under his lips.
He takes wig that he has dusted a few days ago, the wavy blonde hair and puts over his head. It was shoulder length, just enough to fit his small face. He stands up and walks to the long mirror that had the reflection from the top of the wig to the tip of his toes. The image was reflected was not him, and he knew that, but it didn’t mattered at that moment. He wanted to do this for Bucky.
And then he makes a mistake.
Sometimes Steve thinks too much, Bucky has told him so many times before, but he’s never felt the pang of overthinking.
Not until today.
Steve’s eyes are filled with tears.
What if Bucky doesn’t like this? What if he thinks that I’m disgusting, that I’m nothing but a freak?
He looks back at the reflection of the mirror. He wanted to dress up all pretty like a woman so that it wouldn’t feel wrong. They were both sinners, loving another man sexually was wrong, but they went with it anyway. Steve only did all of this so that when Bucky comes back home today and holds the blonde in his arms, it wouldn’t be as bad as it was, as if Steve was truly a lady and that it would make Bucky feel a little bit better about himself. It would hurt less, pretending as if they could actually be a thing, rather than facing the obvious truth that they can never do this forever.
He wants Bucky to touch him and kiss him forever, and he knows that being a man means Bucky would have to leave Steve someday and go off with another woman. He would have to build his family and raise his kids. He can’t be by Steve’s side forever because that’s life. Loving another man is never an option, it will never be.
And Steve would be alone, no one would ever want Steve other than Bucky. He was either too small or too weak, too frail or too sick. No one would ever want the burden. Bucky’s been kind enough to stick with him so long, but the more he thinks about it, he isn’t sure if Bucky truly loves him in the first place. Bucky’s probably sticking around only because he feels sorry for Steve, that he has no one and the moment when he finds a dame that he truly loves, he’d be off with her.
And the tears fall. It leaves a dark trail of black ink across his cheeks. He wipes it abruptly, wanting to remove the image of him crying, the image of him being weak. The wet streaks ruined the powder on his cheeks. He wiped the new tears again, but this time accidentally smudging the red lipstick. He looks into the mirror, and he looks even worse than he did without the make up on his face.
He hides under the dresser, and he starts sobbing. He buries his head under his torso but eventually he curls up into a ball with his knees close to his head. It was a bit uncomfortable doing so as the clothing underneath him was constantly hugging his figure tightly.
~
Bucky had to work an extra hour today. He’d get paid a little bit more of he worked overtime. On the way back, he bought a rose from the florist, as he wanted to give it to Steve. He wasn’t sure if Steve would remember it; that today was their anniversary. Nevertheless he had bought a gift for Steve a week ago, and it was hidden underneath one of the wooden planks on the floor. He got them matching rings, Steve’s one slightly smaller so that his would fit his finger properly.
As Bucky walks into their home, he notices that the place is dark, gloomy even. Steve usually kept the lights in the hall switched on. But today it was rather dull.
“Steve? Steve?” He calls out to the blonde as he closes the door and hangs his coat onto the coat tree. He rolls up his sleeve, unbuttons the collar of his white shirt. “Stevie?” He calls out again, with a rather surprised look on his face.
He looks for Steve in the kitchen but he wasn’t there. He scanned across the bedroom, saw some things on the bed but there was no Steve. Looked for Steve in the basement and he wasn’t there. Attic. Not there either. He goes back to their bedroom, and moves over to the bed. He sees the paper bag and reads the name printed on it.
Steve.
Bucky sees some glossy material from underneath Sarah’s old dresser and walks towards it instead.
“Steve.”
Steve doesn’t answer him.
“Please come out. It’s dusty under there. You might get sick.”
“Go away, Buck.”
“Steve.”
“ I can’t come out.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
No response.
“Stevie please.”
The way Bucky begs him like that, like he’s almost breaking, it just kills Steve. It kills him to know that he’s the reason why Bucky sounds so desperate. He gets up slowly, comes out from the dresser, still fully clothed with what he has adorned himself with an hour ago.
“Steve?”Bucky raises his eyebrows, eyeing Steve like he’s never seen him before. A tear drops from Steve’s eye. And then another. His breath hitches and he starts sobbing. He kneels on his knees, his hands covering his face. Slowly Steve feels something remove his hands from hiding his face. He open his eyes wide and he sees Bucky kneeling right in front of him. Bucky kisses a tear on Steve’s cheek, while gently cupping the sides of his jaw.
“Tell me.”
Steve doesn’t say anything. He wants to push Bucky away, he doesn’t need Bucky too close to him, when he’s crying like this. Steve moves his head to the left, trying to assure Bucky that he doesn’t want to talk about it.
“Hey.”
Steve looks up at Bucky, eyes wide.
“You can tell me anything.”
“I tried to make it right.”
His eyes highlighted his innocence, being wide for a while before eventually closing, trying to hide himself from the shame.
Bucky looks confused, eyebrows drawn together. “Make what right, Stevie?”
“This. This relationship. Our relationship.”
“Stevie?”
“I can’t Buck. I just can’t go on with this without thinking about everything that we do. It’s so wrong, Buck! We’re not supposed to do this. But I want this to do this forever with you, to be like a real couple, to get married and to build a family. I know we can never have any of those. So I tr-tried to make it right. So that you don’t have to feel bad it’s me that you’re loving.”
Bucky just gazes at Steve. He looked serious at first, but then he smiles with his eyes closed, like he was laughing, thinking how wrong Steve was. “God, Steve. You always try to do the right thing, don’t you? But you don’t understand." Bucky pauses, reassuring the confused look on Steve's face with his hands holding up Steve's. I don’t care if it’s wrong Steve, I just want you,” he says, softly.
“Why? Why me?”
Bucky looks at Steve again before pulling the blonde closer for a short kiss. “Because I love you, you punk.”
Steve’s face brightened. “Prove it,” he challenges with a relieved grin.
“Anything. Anything for you.”
And just for a moment, Steve forgets that his face is all painted with ruined make up, he's forgotten how ugly he's felt when Bucky looks at him like that. Steve looks at Bucky, bites his lower lip a little. Steve didn’t have to say a word what he wanted from the brunette, as the older man understood it all. He pulls Steve by his chin, gently, before meeting their lips together. Steve closes his eyes first, and Bucky does the same after his other hand reaches for the soft skin under the blonde’s ear.
Bucky pulls away abruptly, his eyes all wide open and alarmed, as if he just remembered something really important. Steve’s all shocked himself, he was sure that he could feel Bucky wanting this, but now, he couldn’t help feeling that somehow, Bucky has probably gotten back to his senses and that he realised that he didn’t want all of this after all. He sees Bucky getting up, before the brunette stutters something.
“W-wait. Wait here. And close your eyes. Don’t you dare open your eyes, punk.”
Steve complies. Bucky walks out quietly, his footsteps almost undetectable once he steps out of the room. His footsteps stop once he reaches the wooden plank that was slightly higher than the rest. He pulls it up, places it against the wall. The damp wood dirtied the wall a little, leaving soil marks on the rough, old wallpaper. He takes out the small box from the compartment, putting it in his pocket. He puts the wooden plank back in its place, and this time the previous bump was no longer there. His left hand grips the box tightly in his pocket, while the other scratches his nose. When he returns to the room, Steve is still standing where he left him.
He stands in front of Steve and stares at the blonde’s face. His eyes were swollen and the skin around it were smeared with black. He could see dried up trails of tears that had washed away lines of the loose powder. The powder around his cheeks were uneven, courtesy of his actions of roughly brushing away the tears from his face. Bucky takes out his left hand from his pocket, raises it a little until it was right over Steve’s face. His fingers motion as if they were trying to wipe away the stains on his face. He doesn’t touch Steve’s face.
“Turn around,” the brunette says. Steve raises his eyebrows even with his eyes shut, smiles before turning around carefully. Bucky takes out the small box from his pocket and opens it. He guides a silver chain into its matching ring, extends his hands outwards and brings it over Steve’s neck. Steve could feel Bucky putting something over his neck, his hands reaches out to feel it. His skin feels the smooth, cool metal, his fingers over the small bumps of the chain. He gets a vague idea that Bucky has got a necklace for him, but he couldn’t quite guess what the round pendant in front was.
“Done,” Bucky exclaims and with that, Steve slowly opens his eyes. He walks to mirror, the same mirror that he had looked at himself earlier. But this time, his eyes focus on something else wholly, not the ruined make up or his frail, lithe body. Instead, his eyes aims at the ring, the same thing that he assumed was nothing than a round pendant.
Bucky closes in, his lips against Steve’s nape. “Looks good on you.”
“Really?” Steve asks him without taking his eyes off his reflection. He feels the warm huff of Bucky’s breath even closer to his skin. “Yeah,” Bucky answers. “We could run away you know,” Bucky adds. “To somewhere only we know, somewhere we could get married and grow old together.” Steve shivers to the warm breeze that sweeps across his neck.
“I’d love that.” He stops a while. “But..”
“But? But what?”
Steve moves away a little. He smiles at Bucky and shakes his head. He knows that Bucky wouldn’t understand what he feels, because Bucky doesn’t always keep tabs on doing the right things. Bucky opts for what he feels right, even if it goes against everyone else’s stand.
“Don’t worry too much, Steve,” Bucky says as he starts kissing Steve at his neck. He knows that this will silence the blonde a bit, keep his mind of from wandering too far. Bucky himself knows that this world didn’t have a place for people like them.
But this is the best that he could do for the both of them.
Bucky starts with slow kisses that he peppers gently on the blonde’s skin. Once he sees Steve closing his eyes, basking himself in the way Bucky loves his skinny body, Bucky takes the next step and starts nibbling on the skin. It turns red, sore, but Bucky doesn’t stop hurting the raw skin.
“Ahhh..." Steve moans, he turns his head towards the other side. “Ahh, Bucky, that hurts.”
Bucky doesn’t pay attention to his words, instead, he slips his left hand under the slip that Steve has got his body covered with. His right one grabs Steve’s hip from outside , while the left goes up slowly, touching every inch of the satin undergarment. His palm holds Steve’s left breast, being able to feel how the bust pad filled in the empty void behind the brassiere. He rubs his finger at the pointed tip, before sliding his hand underneath the bra.
The hand makes its way to cup, the flat yet slightly raised chest. He gets to feel a small rise, the hardening of the blonde’s nipple. He twisted, kneaded and toyed with it a little and continued kissing his neck from time to time, making Steve moan out his name like a goddamn whore. “Bucky, ah, oh God that feels good. Bucky, ahhh.. please, please…ummm.” Bucky’s right hand pushes down the strap of his slip sensually, while whispering how sexy Steve was in his ear. Then he works his hand on the other strap, and finally tugs the slip down, leaving on the floor.
Steve closed his eyes.
“You know what, punk? I could get you screaming my name out all night long, making you beg like this for me. You’d love it, I know you would.”
Bucky saw the frustration on Steve’s face once he stopped kissing and biting his neck, once he stopped touching Steve’s skin. He takes out the shirt that was tucked in his pants, unravels the rolled-up sleeve. He lets Steve watch as he pulls out starts unbuttoning his shirt from the lowest ones. He pulls down the belt and unzips his pants, pushes it down and throws it over the floor. He’s still in his boxers when he pulls Steve by his hand and walks him to the bed.
Steve doesn’t let go, he lets Bucky pin him onto the bed and hover over him. He sees the growing bulge in Bucky’s pants, he blushes to the sight of how Bucky has got the hots for him. He lets Bucky runs his hands over the satin material that he has got over his skin. The girdle that has got Steve into that nice, feminine body structure, the slim waist, that round little bubble butt, was slowly peeled off. For once, Steve sees how nicely the undergarments has hid his flawed body. He stares into Bucky’s eyes, both of them holding the gaze long enough until Steve feels Bucky’s calloused hands under his knee.
Bucky unclasps the buckle from the garter that had kept the stockings in place, using his whole hand to feel the soft insides of the material before taking them one after the other. Bucky removes the garter belt next, pulls it down Steve’s leg. He turns his head a while to the corner, looking back to the flowery, lacy slip that he has left on the floor, but the glance was short enough to be left unnoticed by his lover.
“God you’re so beautiful so beautiful,” and Bucky doesn’t just stop there, he keeps on showering the smaller man with compliments. Sometimes, Steve feels that Bucky never truly means all those words that he says when he’s grinding his body against Steve’s, but he doesn’t tell him about it. He feels that it’s good enough that Bucky actually tries this hard to make Steve feel sexy about himself.
Steve closes his eyes, he knows if he looks at Bucky right now, he’ll start tearing up, knowing that this could never be them, that this could never last forever, and that someday he might be well off with one of those dames. Even by the way Bucky undresses him, Steve knows that Bucky has had his fair share of experience with the opposite sex, because his touches are soft and gentle, he knows what comes off first and what comes off second.
Bucky takes off the bra the same way he took off the slip from Steve’s body, by pushing the strap down. The clasps come off later, and when he pulls over the brassiere, the small uplift - the imagery was gone. The panties were the last to come off, and when Bucky pulled it down, he made sure that his skin and the glossy satin brushed against Steve’s thighs. Bucky leaves them on the bed, right next to the spot where Steve was lying.
And once Steve was all bare and laid all naked in front of him, Bucky stares at the blushing beauty. Steve didn’t need no blusher to keep his cheeks all rosy red. Bucky still loves it, he loves how youthful and beautiful Steve’s body was. He loved every inch of unblemished skin that the blonde had had.
Bucky kisses the whole of Steve’s body, treasures it like it’s the best thing that he has ever had, the best thing that he has ever owned. He pulls down what he was wearing until he was just as naked as Steve was.
Bucky rolls over to the left, near the drawer where he keeps the glass jar of vaseline. He opens the drawer, takes the container out and scoops up enough cream from the tub with three of his fingers. Returning the Steve's side, he rubs the jelly like substance at the rim of Steve’s hole, inserting one, two, three fingers inside of him and keeping him all slick and ready for when Bucky enters him.
“Ughhh…nggghhh.” He loves how sensitive Steve is, how the blonde always whimpers at the smallest movement, the circles, the pushing and the stretching, everything that Bucky does always gets Steve moaning.
“Please, Bucky... Just fuck me already.”
“Not until you’re ready, babydoll.” and Steve groans again. He loves it how Bucky calls him like that, and it never fails to get his member all hard and stiff.
And when Bucky feels that he has gotten Steve prepped up all right, he turns to takes out a little bit more of vaseline, before covering the jar and putting it back into the drawer. He rubs his cock nicely, spreading the cooling gel evenly over his thick head, along his shaft.
Bucky pushes Steve’s legs over his shoulders, making his hole all ready and inviting. He pushes it gently at first, trying to not hurt the smaller man, but when he feels Steve squirming around him, he knows that his Stevie needs a little bit more.
His increases his speed gradually.
“Oh yeah, fuck… fuck Steve.. you’re still tight.” He thought he had gotten Steve ready enough, but as always Steve’s insides were always griping him tight, milking him like the way he loves it. He’s sweating profusely and he knows that Steve can feel it every time his skin touched Steve’s.
And that sound, that filthy sound where his balls slap against Rogers’ bare arse. Bucky loved it.
“Bucky.. Buck.. Buck… Oh Buck fuck… fuck… oh fuck yeah…” Steve let out breathless moans.
The pushing, the grinding. The sweet curses that accompanied after both their names. The way Bucky felt in him. The way Steve felt around him. It always felt good. (As if it heaven itself could never be better than this.)
But when Bucky hits that sweet spot, the place where Bucky knows which makes Steve into a quivering mess, into some kind of bitch in heat, until he gets what he wants, Bucky closes his eyes. And Steve’s breath is ravaged, he gasps for air, like he’s suffocating, breathing in as much as he can. Bucky fills Steve up with his load, and pulls out quickly, wiping the white, sticky fluid that leaks out of Steve’s hole. He pushes it back in slowly, making sure not a drop is spilled nor was it wasted.
Bucky pulls his body down until his lips are right in front of Steve’s aching hard-on. He wraps his plump lips around Steve’s cock, and the sight of the brunette going down on himself, on skinny, sick little Steven Grant Rogers just does ungodly things to the blonde. Not that there’s anything to complain about, but no matter how many times Bucky goes down on him, it will never be enough, it will never satisfy the greedy little whore in Steve.
Steve grabs Bucky’s sweaty hair into a fist, pushing his head lower until he can feel the warmth of Bucky’s throat giving his cock pleasure. He looks down on Steve, and brunette looks back up at him, fluttering his eyes at Steve.
“You’re so good to me Buck. God, you’re amazing. You look so good like this. So nice. You make me feel li-like…” And Steve stops talking, his throaty shout fills the room instead. Thank God it doesn’t sound so loud, wouldn’t want the neighbours to be talking, right?
And Bucky makes sure to swallow everything that Steve gives him.
Bucky pulls himself up until he is lying right next to Steve. He pushes down the undergarments that he had taken off from Steve earlier, down onto the floor. He flings his hand over Steve’s body, pulling the blonde towards him as close as possible. Steve hugs Bucky back, curling underneath the muscular, broad shoulders and the softness of the blanket that they had always shared. Bucky kisses the back of Steve’s head, the soft blonde hair that Bucky is bloody sure that is the softest one that he has ever felt in his life.
“Beautiful.” The brunette whispers into Steve’s ear. He notices how the bite has placed onto Steve’s neck was no longer red, it’s all purplish blue now. “You’re mine, you know that?” Steve smiles, and nudges his body even closer to Bucky this time. His fingers are wrapped around the ring around his neck, holding tightly.
“I have always been.”