Indulgence

Steve woke up in the same position he fell asleep, diagonally across his hotel bed, with his feet near the pillows. He’d been too tired to rearrange himself, and it was comfortable enough. He groaned, swearing that if he and Thor went to a microbrewery that late at night, he would at least do it on a weekend. At least it was his last day of going to the building site before the weekend. Now that he was actually doing a lot of work on Mr. Stark’s building, all his precious few hours of free time were spent with Thor. They’d already gone to nearly all the good restaurants in Albuquerque, and now they were going back and hitting their favourites again. The particular microbrewery they’d been to last night was their second favourite, and that was their fourth time.

Steve rose, ignoring the throbbing of his head, and grabbed a clean pair of dark wash jeans from on the lamp. Only half paying attention, he put in his legs and pulled them up to his hips, grabbing a shirt from where it hang halfway out of a drawer. After he buttoned the shirt, he noticed that the pants were a little snug, and when he tried to close the button, the two tabs wouldn’t even meet. At first, he thought that he’d grabbed Bruce’s jeans (after about a week of two untidy men living together in a hotel room, their things had exploded outside their neat travel cases and found their way to strange places; Bruce’s aftershave had somehow ended up under Steve’s mattress one night, and Steve’s sunglasses revealed themselves in Bruce’s laptop case) by accident, but he realised that the shorter man’s jeans wouldn’t be quite as long. He swore out loud after checking the label on the jeans. While shopping last week, it had occurred to him that he should grab another pair of jeans. He hadn’t been sure of what type of clothes to pack, so he mostly packed all of his business suits, and only four pairs of jeans. After meeting Fury, Stark, and the other architects on the project, he realised that the attire was much more casual. They hadn’t had the jeans he wanted in the size he usually wore, so he got them a size up and told himself a belt could turn them into a comfortable fit.

But somehow, without noticing, he’d effectively outgrown all of his regular medium 32- inch jeans and started wearing the new large 36-inch jeans. But 36 inches wasn’t enough to close around the belly that Albuquerque had supplied him with.

Unsure of what to do, he grabbed his phone. Thor would understand. Steve had mentioned a while back that he wanted to cut down before the end of the trip, so that Bucky wouldn’t be greeting an entirely different person than the one who left for a business trip nearly a month ago. Steve would go back to his strict diet, and he would work twice as hard in the gym, and everything that had happened in March would be a quiet slip up that would never be repeated. Thor had grinned knowingly, and then explained that he’d been the same when he first married Loki. After they moved in, he adopted a more relaxed lifestyle, and quickly put on about fifteen pounds. He’d had all intentions of losing it, but it quickly turned into thirty, before Loki admitted that he really didn’t mind (quite the opposite, if Thor’s story was to be believed), and Thor gave in to an indulgent lifestyle, becoming the very thick man he was today. Steve doubted that Bucky would be as understand. Not that Bucky would be cruel… but who wanted to date someone that couldn’t control themselves with something as simple as food?

He lifted up his shirt, snapping the picture of his belly obstructing the fit of his large 36 jeans. We have a problem.

A moment later his phone buzzed. “Bucky took a screenshot of Steve’s snap!”

Steve’s mouth went dry, and the phone dropped to the ground. His vision began to swim and his face felt hot. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears and the tip of his nose. His head began shouting cruel things at him, about how stupid and irresponsible he’d been ever since he gave in to those goddamn macaroons, but he was too busy trying to keep himself from vomiting.

He needed to say something, he had to say something to Bucky. He had to explain himself somehow.

Why the fuck had Bucky taken a screenshot?

He had to erase this all somehow, and he would take back every moment of fun he’d had in the last two weeks with Thor and the days preceding to unsend that snap. No matter how much he’d enjoyed himself, it wasn’t worth Bucky knowing how pathetic he really was.

He took a selfie, trying not to look as sick as he felt. Sorry that was for someone else. He knew that that probably left Bucky with more questions than answers.

Mercifully, it seemed not to perturb Bucky at all. Just the sight of his smile made Steve’s mind quell just a little. Maybe it hadn’t been that much of a big deal to him? But Bucky had to know—he’d seen the way he was eating before he left, he had to know the effects so much food had on him.

But if it didn’t matter to him, why did he take the screenshot?

Work was in fifteen minutes, and that called for an immediate solution. Fortunately, the hotel that Fury had booked him was one of the nicest he’d ever been in, and room service didn’t find it strange when he ordered a size extra-large 38 jeans. They arrived four minutes later, and he paid the bellboy and tipped him generously.

Steve put his mind into work and tried to forget about it. If it wasn’t a big deal to Bucky, then it wasn’t a big deal to him. At noon, they had their rendezvous voice chat, and Bucky was as pleasant as ever. Steve felt like he was sweating, and stuttered a few times, but he proudly showed Bucky the blueprints to the building, and an hour later, he was blowing a kiss goodbye and promising to call tomorrow.

After work, he texted Thor (double and triple checking that it was Thor he texted), asking where they were to meet up for dinner. He promised himself he’d have something small, a salad or something, and tomorrow morning he’d wake up early and go for a run. He’d fit back into 36s before the end of the trip. But then Thor suggested his favourite steak place, and no force of nature could stop Steve from ordering the 3 pound prime boneless rib.

“Did it cross your mind that he might like it?” Thor asked when Steve was halfway through his appetizer.

“I doubt that Bucky wants to see a picture of my gut hanging out of my pants,” Steve grumbled in response.

“You’d be surprised. Loki’s preferred method of sexting is when I show him before-and-afters of large meals.”

It was a possibility that Bucky could have more kinks than he let on—Steve was aware of at least one secret fetish Bucky possessed—but Steve just couldn’t picture Bucky as a chubby chaser.

“That could explain why he screenshotted the snap,” Thor added.

“Wait, are you implying that Bucky jacked off to that snap?”

Thor shrugged. “I just think you two should talk about it. That is how every fetish is successfully executed. From what you told me, the two of you have a very successful Dom-sub sexual relationship, and that’s because you’ve spoken about it so much. You’re both mature adults. Even if you two decide that this kink isn’t something you’re into, you should talk about it.”

Steve could picture about sixty ways the conversation go could wrong, but there was one way it could go right. He hadn’t felt this mix of nervous and excited since before they’d talked about their dynamic.

Bucky was so drunk he could barely stand. Steve’s crush had reached its peak at this point, and he was standing close enough to steady him in case he lost balance, which the brunet soon did. He spilled his vibrant green alcoholic shamrock whatever on Steve’s shirt. Steve was holding him at arm’s length with his hands on Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky was focused on the growing stain on Steve’s shirt.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he slurred.

“It’s okay,” Steve said quietly, voice sort of caught in his throat by the way Bucky turned his unfocused gaze to his face and made eye contact. He was worried that he had spoken too softly for Bucky to hear him in the quiet room, but the he titled his head and gave a sweet smile, then let himself crash into Steve, still holding him by the shoulders. At first Steve was worried that he’d passed out, but Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve in a sloppy hug.

“You’re gonna take care of me, aren’t you?” It wasn’t a request. It was an acknowledgement of Steve’s desire to do just that.

“Yes,” Steve whispered, his ears less than an inch away from Bucky’s earlobe.

Bucky rubbed the stubble on his cheek against Steve’s face. “I want you to bend me over one of those rickety desks and fuck me into next week.”

Steve wanted nothing more, but he lived by a strict regimen which said that he must keep himself in the best physical condition possible, and not consider someone drunkenly propositioning sex as consensual.

“Take me home,” Bucky begged.

That began the three day weekend that they spent together. Steve did take Bucky home, and the brunet fell asleep on Steve’s bed. Steve could have watched him forever like that, young and ruffled and perfect. The blond slept on the floor, and helped Bucky through his hangover the next morning. Bucky apologised profusely, but Steve wouldn’t hear it. When he felt better in the afternoon, he readdressed the proposition from the night before.

“Think you still want to fuck me, even after seeing me yak my lungs up?” Bucky asked, both shyly and impertinently at the same time.

“Hey. I promised I’d take care of you,” Steve responded.

“Not really. I mean, you didn’t say it.”

“Okay. Well.” Steve stepped toward Bucky, sitting on his window seat. “I promise to take care of you.”

“I’m a bit of a brat,” Bucky warned.

“I like ‘em bratty,” Steve responded, letting a bit of a growl in his voice.

“Shit, if I knew it was this easy to get you to take me home, I would’ve gotten drunk months ago.”

“I’ve wanted to fuck you since the first day I met you, when I interviewed you,” Steve admitted, hoping it wasn’t too much.

“I wanted you to fuck me at the interview, some lame porno plot, and act like that was the interview. ‘Good morning, Mr. Barnes, please remove your shirt.’”

Steve laughed, then his face turned serious. “We could.”

The dining room table played the part of Steve’s office desk, and Bucky let himself into the kitchen. “Good morning, Mr. Rogers.”

“Good morning. Please take a seat. The company has reviewed your application, and we think your references are most impressive.”

Bucky writhed in his chair. “I’m glad to hear it, Mr. Rogers.”

“Please,” Steve said with a smile. “Call me sir.” He wanted to push farther, wanted to say the word daddy, but he figured today was enough of a start. “I’d like to discuss your portfolio. What would you consider your greatest strength?”

Up till then, they’d been playing some game of subtext, but Bucky leaned forward like he was about to tell Steve a secret. “Well…” he drawled. “I give some fucking great head.”

“I’m afraid this company doesn’t go on word alone. You’ll have to show me what you mean.”

“Yes, sir.” Bucky’s pupils were dilated so much his eyes looked twice the size they were, making him look even younger, even more impressionable.

Bucky stood up off his chair. “Crawl,” Steve commanded, before he’d gotten more than a foot. Bucky obediently dropped to the ground and crawled to where Steve was seated, making eye contact the whole time. Steve sat on his throne and didn’t move, observing Bucky unzip him and blow him. He didn’t give any sort of clue that he was enjoying it, although it was incredible.

Before he could come, Bucky pulled off of his cock with a pop. “I like encouragement,” he stated, before returning to the task before him.

“That’s right, good boy,” Steve said automatically, relishing the control he had over Bucky, and just like that, he stepped into a role that felt like it was made for him. Bucky whined around his dick, making it vibrate. Steve continued to offer praise all through the blowjob, soft reassurances building to a climax as he orgasm. “Fuck, yes! Right there, baby, that’s so perfect. God, yes! Swallow,” Steve commanded, and Bucky obeyed without a second thought.

They continued through the rest of their game, Steve remarking that he ought to check out Bucky’s assets, spanking him lightly over the table, and then finally, said that he thought Bucky would do perfectly in the position.

“Thank you, sir. I think I’ll like it here—you know, some places really fuck you up the ass, but I can tell you value your employees, really take care of them.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I’m happy to do whatever my boss would—“

“Beg for it.”

Bucky licked his lips, reminding Steve that they hadn’t even kissed yet. “Please, sir, please fuck me, I’m so hard, I want you to. Make me scream, I want it—I want your huge dick inside me sir.”

Steve tied Bucky hands behind his back with the linen napkin he had lying on his table and fetched a condom, making Bucky wait patiently in a kneeling position, facing away from him. Steve took all his clothes off and put on the condom, coming up behind Bucky and forced him down with one arm at his neck. Bucky grunted softly as his cheek hit the carpet, clothed ass in the air. Steve undid the brunet’s pants and eased them down to see that he was commando. His ass was the most beautiful Steve had ever seen on a man—perfectly round, tan and unmarked. He couldn’t wait to make bruises all over his young flesh, watch him sit uncomfortably for the next week, the memory of Steve’s cock inside him making him hard and unable to focus. He slipped inside him slowly and Bucky cried out. Steve shushed him, muttering sweet nonsense in a low, rough voice. Bucky came first, taken care of, just like Steve promised.

“Come on my face, please,” Bucky choked out after he finished his climax. Steve flipped him over, still hard, and sat on his lap, jacking himself off until he did come, splashing onto Bucky’s face and dripping onto his shirt.

Steve wasn’t sure if that office game had just been roleplaying, some fantasy that Bucky had, but he didn’t leave after that. He made them lunch in Steve’s kitchen, and asked if he could borrow Steve’s car to drive back to his apartment and pick up his toothbrush. The times they had sex after that—which were very often—did not always include office roleplay, but the dynamic was very similar.

Steve was pulled out of his memory by the waiter asking if they wanted dessert. He and Thor ordered a medium cherry cheesecake, saying that they would take whatever they couldn’t finish home, but there was no need for boxes the next time the waiter came by. Steve kept thinking about what Thor suggested. Just talk about it. If Bucky hadn’t brought up the idea of Steve taking care of him, Steve might not have suggested it. This kink was different, though—being a Dom was part of Steve’s personality, just like subbing was part of Bucky’s. That’s why they were so compatible. But just because Steve was gaining weight didn’t mean that Bucky had to be into it.