5066 words
They left Roswell after eating at the space-themed McDonalds for breakfast, and Steve watched Bucky out of the corner of his eye as he tried to seem busy on the laptop in the passenger’s seat.
He was wearing a loose, flowy t-shirt dress that stopped just above his knees and left his right arm bare, showing off his shoulder. On his left hand he wore a black glove. Aside from his boots and the frilly white socks that peeked cutely out of the top of them, and pink sunglasses, that was all he wore.
No underwear.
Steve swallowed as he remembered this, and turned back to the laptop, trying to concentrate on the article about fashion he was reading. It was biweekly shower day, Bucky had reminded Steve as he stripped off his chemise and changed right into his dress, which had nearly made Steve bite through his tongue, foregoing the shaving-in-his-underwear ritual, since he’d be showering today anyway.
Steve was subdued throughout the morning, dread festering up in his gut and making his insides tremble. Bucky didn’t help matters as he sang along to a pop song, something about sex and filled with expletives.
They grabbed lunch at an Arby’s, and Steve almost couldn’t eat it, inundated with nerves as he was. He may have fed Punk too much meat, as a result, but the dog didn’t complain.
They stopped to refuel at a truck stop, and Bucky went in to pay cash as Steve waited by the pump so he could pump the gas as fast as possible so they could get out of there quickly.
It was no use.
Bucky came back and cheerfully informed him, “We have a couple of showers all to ourselves for an hour. I had to pay double to reserve the room. Don’t want anyone else walking in and seeing my arm.” He waved said appendage around, and Steve hummed noncommittally, focusing on the gas.
Oh god, oh god, oh god. Steve was going to die.
All too soon, the tank was filled back up and there was nothing else to do but grab a change of clean clothes and follow Bucky to the showers.
He felt like a man walking to his death.
To his mild relief, Bucky didn’t immediately get naked the second they were alone. Instead, he lined up his shampoos and different soaps and washes that he brought in his toiletries bag in a particular order along the shower shelf, before setting it out of the way. Steve had only shampoo and a bar of ivory soap to wash himself with, so he didn’t have the excuse to delay changing like Bucky did.
He turned the water to his showerhead on, and then stripped quickly, not making a big deal of it, while his insides felt like they were twisted up in knots.
Bucky followed suit much more deliberately, taking the time to fold his dress and glove, and then they were both naked, standing under the water in silence. The water felt good on Steve’s dirty, greasy skin and his tense muscles.
Bucky moaned like he agreed, making Steve stiffen and look at him out of the corner of his eye, a little panicked. He had his head tilted back and mouth open in ecstasy, his eyes closed as the hot, steaming water hit his metal shoulder. It must hurt Bucky, for him to react like this, and Steve frowned unhappily at the conclusion.
He grabbed the soap and ran it over his body, twice to make sure he was completely clean. Then he shampooed his hair, turning away from Bucky as he started washing himself to give him privacy and prevent himself from ogling him.
Right when Steve was about to shut off the water and leave, Bucky looked over his shoulder at him, the look inadvertently coquettish. “Could you stay? My hair always gets caught in the metal plates of my hand and I’d like to be able to go through at least one shower without ripping out my hair, if you’d be so kind as to wash it for me.”
Steve gulped and had to clear his throat before he responded more evenly than he thought he would. “Uh, sure. No problem.”
‘Yes problem. All the problem,’ he contradicted nonsensically to himself as he stepped up behind Bucky, who straightened up from where he was leaning over slightly, shaving his thigh.
Bucky passed him a bottle of fancy looking, fruity smelling French shampoo. Where did he even get this?
“A small amount, please,” he said as Steve opened the bottle. He squirted a line from his crown to his nape and then passed Bucky the shampoo back.
He hesitated, at the point of no return.
He would be putting his hands on Bucky while they were both naked, not just because of Bucky turning over and accidentally groping him. This was deliberate.
No, Steve told himself, this was an innocent little favor that meant nothing, nothing like what Steve wanted it to mean.
With his mind firmly resolved, Steve reached out and spread the shampoo around Bucky’s scalp, digging his fingertips in. Bucky made a soft noise and leaned his head back more into Steve’s touch.
Steve massaged his scalp thoroughly, working the shampoo into a thick lather. By the time he was done, Bucky was leaning against his chest, moaning softly. In fact, Steve was so caught up in shampooing Bucky that he had no idea that his dick was hard and heavy between his legs until Bucky pulled away to rinse his hair off.
Steve made an aborted noise of sheer panic and whirled around to hide himself, his dick slapping wetly against his thigh.
“Well, I’ll be in the RV, take your time,” Steve said, high and strangled as he switched off the water and fumbled to pull on his clean clothes, not bothering to dry off first with the towels provided. He grabbed his dirty clothes and scrambled out of the shower room, ducking his head as he passed the cashier on his way out.
From safely within the RV, Steve breathed out a huge sigh of relief. Punk started barking and Steve was too emotionally wrung out to tell him to stop.
Right before the hour was up, Bucky came back, glancing at him from behind his sunglasses as he put his shampoos and stuff up.
“Did you enjoy your shower, Steve?” Bucky asked him, making him blink.
“Oh, yeah. It was good to finally get clean. Felt like I haven’t showered in ages.” Steve shot him a small smile.
Bucky didn’t reply for a moment.
“That… that’s good.” He sighed heavily. “Well, I'm gonna take Punk out again and then we’ll leave.”
Steve wondered if he had said anything wrong. Was he supposed to pay Bucky back? He’d gladly do that, if Bucky wanted him to.
When he offered to, however, Bucky just stared at him and then rolled his eyes, nonverbally calling him a dumb idiot or whatever he was thinking.
Steve tried to dismiss it, used to Bucky thinking him dumb, but as the day wore on, Bucky seemed… angry at him. He kept shooting him these glances he thought Steve didn’t notice, and was always staring straight ahead at the road when Steve turned to look at him. He wore headphones to stoically listen to his music, and Steve couldn’t help but feel like Bucky did it to exclude him.
He even changed his sunglasses to a pair of mirrored ones that Steve couldn’t see through at all, another blow to his fragile peace of mind.
He didn’t give Steve the silent treatment or anything that extreme, just made Steve feel like he vaguely disappointed in him.
For dinner that night, they went to a really fancy, fine dining, gourmet, five star restaurant that was filled with a bunch of swells that stared at Bucky, who had changed into a light blue dress that clung to the muscular line of his body and ended right below the juicy swell of his ass. He wore a pink mink fur coat over the top of it to hide his arm, which he covered with a matching blue glove. The coat only went down to his pecs, driving Steve crazy with the way it highlighted how closely the dress hugged his body. He had a bright pink purse with two gold Gs stuck on the side, the same color as the shade of pink lipstick he wore and his coat. He had also changed back to his big, pink sunglasses that covered half his face. His necklace was a simple blue gemstone, his earrings the same. He wore a ring on the exposed middle finger of his right hand, making Steve blink at the size of it.
The stick of dynamite on top were the honest-to-god pink heels that Bucky had on his feet, making his legs look miles long and inviting all sorts of dirty, nasty, naughty thoughts into Steve’s mind. Mainly involving Bucky wearing those shoes and nothing else, his legs thrown over Steve’s shoulders.
Bucky looked better than everyone there and he knew it, actually strutting to their table. Steve didn’t blame people for staring. He was staring, too.
Steve had also dressed smartly for the occasion once Bucky told him where they were going to eat, donning his only pair of khakis and button-down shirt he had the foresight to bring with him on his trip, and his own combat boots were nice enough to wear, which was good because they were the only shoes he had brought along. Thankfully, the serum made his hair grow faster than the average human male, so he was already sporting a good start to the beard Bucky had wanted him to grow out to hide his recognizable jawline, which was fortunate since hats weren’t allowed in the restaurant.
Bucky had also chosen not to shave his face in the shower that day, and the five o’ clock shadow on that sharp jawline was enough to make people swoon, leaving him looking quite obviously male, if the clothing had managed to persuade anyone otherwise. He was practically flaunting how gay he looked, dressed up in what was considered to be ‘women’s’ clothing.
Steve was going to fucking explode or pass the fuck out, and was glad that he could finally sit down, his knees feeling weak at the sight of Bucky’s ass in front of him. He knew that Bucky had on a bright pink thong underneath and yeah, Steve felt like just passing away instead.
He pulled Bucky’s chair out for him, overcome by the sudden urge to, and received a sweet smile for it.
Steve sat down more heavily than he meant to, but he couldn’t blame himself, not when Bucky smiled at him like that. He’d never been able to control his reaction to it.
They ordered a bottle of Moscato that had a price tag that made Steve wince inside. The food menu itself didn’t have any prices listed, it was that expensive. There were candles on the table. This was the kind of place that he and Bucky dreamed about going to, about affording one day. He never expected to actually be here, with Bucky as his date – not that they were actually on one – looking like a trillion goddamn dollars and better than any dame ever could.
Their waiter was even wearing white gloves as he brought them their wine and poured them both a glass over his forearm. Bucky waited until he left to open his purse, where Steve caught a glimpse of his phone, gun, cigarettes, and flask, which he withdrew.
He unscrewed the top and covered it with his thumb before he poured a few drops into his wine glass. He did the same to Steve’s drink before he could protest the action.
Steve swallowed nervously and eyed it like it was a bomb that was now armed, which wasn’t far from the truth.
Bucky immediately picked his up and took a sip.
“Mmm,” he hummed in pleasure. “This is divine. I'm sure the food will be just as good.”
Steve hesitantly sipped it and found that Bucky was right, and when the food arrived a few minutes later, he found that he was right about that, too. They had ordered a lot of food, since the portion sizes were small, which allowed them to branch out and try everything the restaurant had to offer, it seemed like. As a result, they received a lot of looks when three waiters came by with three trays of their food.
They had each ordered two shrimp cocktails, two lobster tails, two 6oz filet mignons, the calamari, the seared ahi tuna, the lobster mac and cheese, the lobster bisque, and the crabcakes.
The grin Bucky wore when they set their food down was absolutely shit eating, razor sharp and brilliant. Steve worked his throat convulsively, trying not to feel like prey.
“It looks good,” he said meekly, reaching out to grab a shrimp and dip it in the cocktail sauce.
“Yeah, it sure does,” he replied, staring at Steve intently, who began blushing.
Bucky ordered a vodka martini when the waiter came by to check on them a few minutes later, claiming that it all needed a little something.
“Make it dirty,” he told the waiter, who acquiesced with a nod. After he left, Bucky continued. “I like to get a little dirty every now and then. Don’t you, Steve?”
Steve froze from where he was bringing a bite of his steak to his mouth. A flush of heat made its way up his neck at the question.
“I don’t really drink alcohol.” It was all he could say without sounding too strangled.
Bucky didn’t say anything else, turning back to his food.
Steve was in heaven, stuffing his face with delicious bite after bite, and noticed the phone too late, too distracted. He glared at Bucky, who merely smiled and took another picture. When the waiter came by to give Bucky his martini, he offered to take a picture of them together, which Bucky immediately accepted with sadistic glee. To Steve’s dismay, he also took one with flash, which would wash him out like it always had, damn his complexion.
When the waiter handed the phone back to Bucky, Bucky’s eyes widened behind his sunglasses as Steve leaned over the table, trying to see, his efforts futile.
“What? What is it?”
Bucky shook his head, on the verge of laughter as he tilted his phone away. Steve whined unhappily, resisting the childish urge to stamp his foot.
“I'm making this one my lock screen,” Bucky informed him happily, making him groan and thunk his head down heavily on the table, trying to hide his face. If that was the case, perhaps Steve didn’t want to know how bad it was.
When the waiter came around again, wondering if they had room for any dessert, they looked at each other and then nodded, eager not to miss out.
They ordered three crème bruleés, two bread puddings, and a thick slice of chocolate cake, earning more looks as the waiter brought another tray of food out to them again.
When they were finally done, they leaned back in their seats and to his utter mortification, Steve let out a loud burp. He wanted to sink right to the floor, even as Bucky started laughing, giggling at first and then building up into loud raucous laughter that was even more head-turning than the burp that started it. Pretty soon, the ridiculousness of the situation and Bucky’s contagious laughter caught up with Steve, who started laughing, too.
The waiter came by for what was hopefully the last time, asking if they were ready for the check. In response, Bucky wordlessly grabbed a roll of money from his purse and handed it to him, still laughing a bit too hard to answer.
“Yeah, yeah, yuk it up,” Steve muttered to him, a wide grin betraying his feelings. Bucky’s laughter died down as he regarded Steve fondly.
“You have somethin’,” he said as he reached over the table with his right arm and thumbed away something red, probably the cocktail sauce, making him blush. Steve’s mouth went dry as Bucky brought his thumb to his own mouth and sucked, his lips curving around the digit.
He watched Bucky in a daze as he opened his purse up and grabbed his lipstick and a compact mirror. He opened it up and carefully reapplied his lipstick. His lips were already sinful, and with the application of an enhancer, it was really quite unfair to Steve, who felt as if he might go into cardiac arrest at any second.
Bucky blew himself a kiss in the mirror, pursing his lips obscenely, and Steve felt his eye twitch.
The waiter came back with the change and Bucky tipped him five hundred dollars before shoving the rest back into his purse, not thinking too much about it. He withdrew the flask and poured a few more drops into the refill of his martini before he slammed it back and stood up.
“Let’s get outta here, doll,” he said as he grabbed the neck of the wine bottle, making Steve stand up. He grabbed Bucky’s elbow when he swayed too much for Steve’s peace of mind.
“You have the nerve to call me doll when you're the one that’s all dolled up?”
Bucky giggled, leaning against Steve more as he led Bucky out. “You're so fucking dumb, Stevie. I don’t know how I ever put up with you.”
Steve swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. “I don’t know, either.” His voice was small, and Bucky looked up at him. His face dropped as he frowned.
“No, I mean that y-you’re a little punk. Just real nice and snarky and an all-around great person. A himbo, I think they call it. You're amazing, Steve, I don’t know why- why everyone can't see it. I dunno why you can't see it.”
Steve blushed to the tips of his toes. “Aw, gee, thanks, Buck. I think you’re real swell, too.”
Bucky turned around in his arms, now, bringing his own arms up to wind around Steve's head. His flesh fingers played with the soft hairs at the nape of Steve’s neck as he looked into his eyes, his expression soft and gentle.
Steve’s heart started absolutely pounding, terrified that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from leaning in to kiss Bucky, who would laugh and push him away and shatter his heart into a million pieces.
“Can I have some wine?” he blurted, desperately needing to distract himself.
Bucky blinked at him incredulously, and Steve knew why: he said he didn’t drink alcohol, and here he was, wanting some alcohol.
“Yeah, sure, you can have the bottle,” he said as he disengaged and handed him the bottle. “You can have the fucking bottle, alright,” he muttered under his breath, louder than he probably meant to because he was drunk.
Not wanting to upset him by drinking all of it, Steve handed it back to him with a grateful smile after just a sip.
Bucky gave him a strange look and then stumbled away, muttering inaudibly to himself. Steve hurriedly followed behind him so he wouldn’t accidentally trip or something.
They got into a cab that was waiting near the restaurant and a short ride later, they were back where they had parked the RV.
Bucky lost his footing on the step and almost fell off, but Steve was there to catch him.
“Careful now,” he cautioned as he helped Bucky into the RV, where Punk was whining and wagging his tail, trying to jump up to greet him, too ecstatic to see Bucky to summon up any rage to be nasty at Steve.
“My little boy!” Bucky cried out as he bent over to grab him, and fell over onto the floor, which Punk took advantage off, licking his cheek and ear enthusiastically, making Bucky squeal adorably. “I missed you. I think I'm owed a few kisses, especially after the dinner I had away from you!”
Steve smiled as he watched Bucky interact with the dog, who was cute when he was cute. He played with him for a while, using some of his toys. They played fetch, to Steve’s amusement, since Punk didn’t seem like the type of dog to be interested in the game.
Steve considered it progress that he didn’t growl at him as Steve crossed over them to get to the bathroom.
He brushed his teeth while he was in there too, needing a little bit of extra time away from Bucky, as horrible as it sounded, given what had happened to him and all the time they had already spent apart.
When he came back out, Bucky wasn’t in the RV anymore and neither was Punk, the wide-open door the obvious answer.
Outside, Bucky was lying in the grass, Punk a few feet away on three leashes that were clipped together. He looked up at Steve, baring his teeth at him, clearly considering him to be a predator while he was engaged in the vulnerable action of taking a shit.
Bucky was attempting to achieve the dubious and light a cigarette that was sticking straight up, meaning if it fell, it would fall onto his face and burn him.
Bucky glanced at him as he approached. Steve bent down and grabbed the two things from him, putting the cigarette in his own mouth and lighting it for him, taking a putrid puff of it as he handed it back.
“Any idea why you're out on the grass? Given that the leash you made is long enough to stretch from the steps.”
Bucky only grinned at Steve.
Steve raised his eyebrow and heaved an amused sigh. “C’mon, let’s get you up and into bed, Buck.”
Bucky scoffed at him. “What an empty promise,” he muttered, moodily taking a drag.
“I can definitely pick you up and carry to you bed,” Steve reminded him. Geez, Bucky must be more drunk than Steve thought, if he’d forgotten how strong he was.
“Ah, yes, but what pray come of it?” he asked, rather nonsensically. Steve suspected it was a quote from one of his books, but didn’t ask, instead grabbing the cigarette from where it was threatening to fall out of Bucky’s mouth, brushing his skin and sending a zing up through his fingers. He finished it off in one drag so Bucky wouldn’t yell at him for wasting it, before he grabbed Bucky’s flesh arm and heaved him up into a fireman’s carry.
“Hey, a pillow,” Bucky mumbled as he poked Steve’s ass. Steve snorted at him as he walked towards the RV.
“Says the man wearing a skintight dress,” he retorted, then immediately regretted it, not liking how homophobic it sounded. “Which is real nice.” There, a save.
He set Bucky gently down on the bed. Punk needed help, stuck outside at the door, unable to jump up, so Steve went to save him, only getting one snarl for his kindness, which Steve made the decision to consider it as a thank you. He shut the door, unclipped him, and set some food out for him, and when he came back to Bucky, he wasn’t surprised to find that he was asleep.
Steve slipped off his heels that had somehow managed to stay on this whole time, setting them aside in the closet. He did the same with the sunglasses and the purse, figuring that the coat wouldn’t be too hot, since Bucky had chosen to wear it in late May. He hadn’t even been sweating.
He didn’t cover him up with the blanket, though, figuring it would be overkill. He got undressed and crawled in beside Bucky, stealing the blanket for himself. He left his undershirt on, but he felt like he needed the added layer between their bodies tonight more than ever.
With his mind in overdrive as he reminisced about the day, it took Steve a long time to succumb to sleep.
-
Bucky moving woke him, and Steve blinked up at him. He was kneeling on the bed, trying to remove his jacket. When he finally got it off, he removed the glove, tossing both into the closet. Then he looked over at Steve, stood up, and reached under his dress to remove his underwear.
Steve, his heart thundering, slammed his eyes closed again to pretend to be asleep, figuring that Bucky must have thought he still was and was taking the opportunity to change.
“I know you're awake,” Bucky said suddenly, throwing something at his face and making him flinch violently.
Steve opened his eyes and nearly had a heart attack when he picked the thing up off his face. It was Bucky’s underwear.
Before Steve could splutter and try to defend himself, Bucky swiftly climbed back into bed and threw his leg over Steve’s waist, straddling him. The motion made his dress ride up to his hips, which meant that there was only the thin fabric of Steve's boxers between his dick and Bucky’s ass as he sat back onto him.
Overwhelmed, Steve choked, his hands automatically going to Bucky’s hips. Bucky moaned when they landed on him, and began rocking softly down on his cock, which had taken notice of the proceedings and was working itself to full hardness.
“You are the dumbest, most oblivious fuckhead alive, I swear to god,” Bucky groaned out. “I’ve been trying to seduce you ever since you found me, you fucking piece of shit. I can't believe it. I literally can't believe it. I’ve been parading myself around in all my sluttiest clothes. I made all my passwords your name and birth year.” His voice turned slightly hysterical in his disbelief. “You were cupping my dick this morning! I pressed myself against your erection. I clearly wasn’t pushing you away. We took a shower together! I made you wash my hair, for fuck’s sake. I was moaning and squirming in your arms. I didn’t wear any underwear practically the whole damn day. I took you to dinner to a restaurant where I spent an ungodly amount on food and drinks. I dolled myself up for you, you asshole. I almost kissed you outside the restaurant, you absolute motherfucker. How? How in the devil’s unholy name did you not fucking know?”
Steve was rock hard as Bucky ground against him, past caring.
“Yeah, I'm an idiot,” he agreed easily as he panted, meeting his thrusts. “I'm the dumbest person alive and I’ll burn in hell for that. I promise I’ll be much more observant in the future.”
Bucky braced himself on Steve’s chest, and then pushed the fabric up. “Get this off before I tear it off.”
Steve let out a strangled noise and his cock twitched at the thought. Bucky moaned at the feeling and swiveled his hips, making Steve lose his damn mind. He pushed the shirt up Steve’s chest, and Steve took the hint and sat up, which brought them face to face with each other.
Steve smiled widely at Bucky, overjoyed.
Bucky glared at him. “I’ve been in love with you since before I was a sperm in my father’s ballsack, we’re three seconds away from fucking, so why haven’t you kissed me yet?”
Steve, torn between laughing, sobbing, and returning the declaration of love, let a helpless little noise and leaned in to fix his mistake. Which was not kissing Bucky back in the forties – no, when they were seven and eight years old and Bucky had smiled at him after saving Steve from bullies, their first meeting – and letting him go too long without Steve’s love and touch.
“I love you too,” he whined out against his lips, his eyes stinging.
“That’s great, or else I would feel really foolish right about now,” Bucky mumbled against Steve’s lips.
Steve kissed him properly, then, opening his mouth and intertwining their tongues.
It was bliss, heaven and hell wrapped up in one. He reached down to wrap his fist around Bucky’s hard cock, making him let out a choked moan.
Despite wanting things to last, things were over very quickly for Steve, who watched as Bucky fell apart above him, gasping and trembling.
“Yeah? You gonna cum for me, gonna soil your nice dress that you look so pretty in?” His face was hot as he heard himself, but Bucky moaned for him, so he continued, encouraged. “You look so pretty, all dolled up for me. Sorry I didn’t see that you did it for me until now. You were so patient with me, baby.” Steve didn’t really think that was exactly true, given that Bucky had thrown his underwear in his face and sat down on his cock before Steve had gotten the hint, but he wanted to make up for it, so he was going to praise Bucky anyway.
“Mmm, you're so pretty. My pretty little boy. My pretty little girl. I wanna fuck you into next week, into next century. Get you all sloppy wet for me and slide right in. You’d be so sweet, so good for me, sweetie.”
Bucky shuddered against him and fell apart, cum spurting out the head of his cock that swelled and throbbed in his hand. At the glorious sight, Steve shoved his boxers down and got a hand on himself that was wet with Bucky’s cum and he was gone, lighting up like a rocket.
He licked his hand clean, bringing more of their cum that had splashed onto his stomach up to his lips. Bucky leaned in to get a taste, licking at Steve’s fingers and into his mouth.
God, that was so hot.
Bucky pushed Steve back, who went willingly. They settled down, and Bucky laid his head down on Steve’s chest. He held him close, finally able to after all this time. He had always been able to, Steve realized sadly, too dumb to know it and as a result, never took the opportunity.
But now, he had a second chance. They both did, and he wouldn’t waste it. Steve was going to spend it making up for lost time.
He fell asleep holding Bucky and smiling.