Indulgence

They left the apartment and drove to Olive Garden. There were a few waiters loitering around the side entrance where they parked, smoking cigarettes. Bucky was fishing for his sunglasses in the glove box, and didn’t notice when Steve exited the car first, holding the door open for his boyfriend like the gentleman he was. Bucky put his shades on, then looked over and blushed, taking Steve’s hand.

“Thanks, Daddy,” he whispered, giving Steve a kiss on the cheek.

One of the busboys flicked his cigarette and crushed it with his boot. “Faggots!” he called out while Steve and Bucky were still about fifty feet away. Some of the other scumbags laughed with him, like that was the most hilarious and original thing they’d ever heard.

Steve ground his jaw and Bucky proudly linked his arm, determined to gay the haters away. He started walking, setting off a course that wasn’t too far away from the loiterers to be cowardly, but not too close to be stupid.

“Fatass,” one of the other ones called, quietly, like he was afraid of Steve’s size, which he the fuck should have been.

The first guy snorted. “Sure you wanna go into Olive Garden, buddy?”

Bucky tightened his grip. He could feel Steve tense.

“Your boyfriend’s looking a little fat, there!” the one in the back who had previously been quiet piped up. They were getting louder and braver, pumped off each other’s idiocy.

“’Hey, fuck me in the ass!’ ‘I can’t, I’m too fat!’” the second one mimicked.

Steve turned toward them, despite Bucky’s protests. “Hey, you wanna shut the fuck up?” he growled in his most intimidating voice, and even Bucky was a little afraid.

The two boys in the back pulled on the leader, and one of them whispered something about forgetting it, but the first one just waved them off, spit to the side, and hoisted his crotch. “Why don’t you come over here and make me, lardass.”

Steve had about six inches and sixty pounds on the tallest, heaviest one of the group (which just happened to be one of the two backing down), so Bucky didn’t doubt Steve would put them in their place, but he was more worried about Steve’s self-esteem. He’d worked too long, too hard with him to have four assholes destroy it all in a parking lot. He didn’t know what he’d do if he woke up the next morning to discover that Steve wasn’t beside him, that he had gone back to his goddamn morning run.

Steve let go of Bucky’s hand and marched right up to the first guy. “Boy,” he growled, leaning back just ever so slightly and allowing his gut to brush up against the kid’s chest. “I’m not the fightin’ sort, so normally I might just walk away. But you haven’t hurt me, you’ve hurt my Boy. Ain’t that right, Buck?” he called back to where Bucky stood.

“Yessir,” Bucky responded, a little too in awe to say anything more comprehensive.

“Ya see? And that’s just not okay.” Bucky could hear a little of Steve’s indigenous Brooklyn accent sneaking into his voice. “So you apologise to him… right now.” Steve said the last part very slowly, ostensibly so the dickhead could understand.

The Dickhead, of course, did not. He laughed. “Apologise to the twink? No fuckin’ way. I’d rather have my ass beat than apologise to a faggot.”

Steve’s glare darkened, and before the kid could move, he punched him square in the jaw.

“Holy shit!” The third guy exclaimed, and he and the fourth ran off to their beat-up Jeep around the corner. The second still hung around.

“Take him out, Brock. You can move twice as fast as this shithead.”

That turned out to not be true, as Brock rotated his jaw, squared his feet, and swung at Steve. Steve easily dodged Brock’s punch like he could slow down time. While Brock was still catching his balance from his poorly-aimed punch, Steve hit him in the stomach. Brock doubled over and dropped to his knees.

“Apologise,” Steve repeated calmly.

“Fuck you.” Brock spat blood at Steve’s shirt.

Steve grabbed the collar of Brock’s Olive Garden-green work uniform and lifted him up off the ground until their faces were level. “Now that was just plain rude. I don’t have many shirts that fit me, and I really liked this one.” He easily tossed Brock to the side, and his friend scrambled to help him up. He turned back to Bucky, wiping a splatter of blood off his chin. “Still want to eat here, baby?”

Bucky shook his head. “Lost my appetite.” But that wasn’t entirely true; he’d just lost his appetite for anything but Steve.

They silently got back into the car, and an awkward silence hung in the air for a few minutes.

“Buck, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have beat him up like that. It’s just that I hate to see goddamn jerks like that. They remind me of bullies when I was little, and couldn’t do nothin’ to protect myself. But I shouldn’t have ruined our dinner, I—“

Bucky wanted to lunge over the centre console and kiss him, but he didn’t feel like a car crash. Instead, he put his hand on Steve’s thick thigh and gripped the extra flesh there. “No, don’t be sorry. You didn’t lose control. You were perfectly calm, and that asshole got what he deserved. Besides… it was kinda hot.” Bucky added the last part with a whisper, not wanting Steve to think he was twisted for getting off on watching him execute his justice.

Steve didn’t turn his face away from the road, but Bucky saw his lopsided smirk. “Oh yeah? You like your Daddy takin’ care of his pretty little boy?”

Bucky slipped his hand into the tight waistband of Steve’s slacks, where his shirt was tucked in, exacerbating his underbelly. “Fuck, yes,” he whined. He realised that the flesh of Steve’s belly overlapped his waistband, softest part of his gut just starting to sink into a crease.

 “Not here, baby,” Steve insisted, his words contradictory to his actions as he guided Bucky’s hand under his tight, blood-spattered shirt, keeping his right hand on the wheel and steering Bucky’s hand with his left. He took a side road without the turn signal, and a car horn blared behind them. Steve’s breath quickened and blood rushed to both his face and his crotch. He found an abandoned lot and parked the car next to a dumpster, turning off the ignition and reaching over to kiss Bucky in the cramped space of the front seat of their 2013 Camaro.

Bucky quickly undid the buttons of his shirt, peeling it off and feeling Steve’s empty stomach. “It’s so soft like this,” he remarked, not used to the way it felt without being completely full.

Steve grunted in response, reaching around Bucky and cranking the lever of the seat into a reclining position. Steve slid out of his seat and on top of Bucky, and the brunet moaned with the weight of him. “Too much?”

Bucky took Steve’s earlobe between his teeth. “Not enough.”

Steve chuckled, arching his back and pressing the entirety of his belly into Bucky’s flat torso. “This isn’t enough for ya?” Bucky hissed through his teeth, and Steve pulled back to tenderly lift Bucky’s legs over his shoulders. “Gonna fuck you like this baby, while I still can.”

Bucky’s cock jumped in response, the idea that Steve would soon be too big to fuck him facing each other burning in his mind. “Daddy,” he keened, jamming his pants down over his hips. He couldn’t say anything but that word, filling up his whole head, putting all the meaning behind it; Steve, his protector, his lover, his best friend, his “Daddy, daddy, daddy.”

“Shh,” Steve soothed, more of a comfort than an actual request for silence. He smoothed his hand over Bucky’s head and pulled his hair out of his ponytail. “I’ve got you.”

Bucky was suddenly feeling very sensitive and desperate. He didn’t know if it was because of what those dumb fucks had said, and he didn’t want to let them get to him, but he’d learned long ago that dangerous things happened when he tried to deny his emotions, so he just let himself feel, knowing he didn’t need to apologise. Knowing that Steve would always be strong for him when he needed it.

Steve sucked on his own hand, pulling his fingers away from his glistening lips with a small trail of saliva breaking away from the long digits. He wrapped his hand around Bucky’s dick, stroking slowly as Bucky kneaded his lovehandles. They were starting to get big enough that they were more than just a handful; Bucky couldn’t get his whole hand around the layer of fat anymore.

“I love it when I’m inside you, baby. You’re so pretty and fragile and I never want to hurt you, but you take it so well. I love how connected we feel, like every thought ricochets off this world we create for ourselves. I love feeling your perfect body against me. You’re so beautiful, and I want to show you how much you mean to me,” Steve sweet-talked, and Bucky felt like he might melt into the upholstery of the passenger seat.

He knew that although Steve would always support him emotionally, the blond certainly had his insecurities, and he need Bucky to validate his importance. “I love it when you touch me with your big hands. You make me feel so small and safe, like you can tuck me in your arms and keep everything sad away from me. I never want to be without you. I feel like every part of me aches to be lined up with you, like every convex surface of your body matches  every concave plane of mine—fuck!” he exclaimed as Steve brushed his thumb over the slit of his penis, wet with spit from Steve’s hands and drops of precome.

“If you can talk and make that much sense, clearly I ain’t doin’ this right,” Steve remarked with a grin, bending over and taking Bucky’s cock into his mouth.

“Steve… ah, shit… God, that feels so good, Daddy… holy FUCK, yes!”  

Steve deepthroated Bucky, and the brunet couldn’t remember the last time he’d given him such a gift. Although he certainly enjoyed giving Steve head, like bending to his knees in front of his Daddy was the position he was born to be in, the space between Steve’s thighs was the space his head was born to occupy, the feeling of Steve’s mouth swaddling his member was almost better.

Bucky resolved himself to last this time. Steve got him so hot it was a miracle he didn’t come in his pants every time Steve showed signs of being full, which was very often.

A mind-reader as always, Steve pulled off his cock with a pop and muttered a command before returning to his task. “Come whenever you need, Baby.”

Bucky was about to contradict, but the order and meaning of the words he was about to speak was totally lost when Steve licked up the underside of his cock. Steve was incredible with his mouth; both with sweet-talking, reassuring Bucky of his value and right to the happiness Steve could provide him with, and with giving oral. Bucky had no idea what he was doing down there, but it was the type of inexplicable, beautiful intimacy that passed between them that got him fisting his hands in Steve’s hair and screaming out his name like nothing else could.

“I’m gonna… I’m… oh, fuck! D-daddy, I’m c-coming,” he managed to warn, right before he spilled down Steve’s throat.

Steve swallowed and pulled back, flashing Bucky a smile. “I think I prefer that to Olive Garden,” he joked, sliding up to fuck Bucky like he’d promised.

He took off Bucky’s pants as Bucky struggled to slip Steve’s off over his thickening ass, hands shaking. He fingered Bucky open slowly. The brunet was still caught in the high of his orgasm, but his dick somehow managed to get hard again as Steve scissored his fingers into him.

“Ready?” Steve asked.

Almost before he was done speaking, Bucky was begging for it. “Yes, yes, please Daddy, want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

Steve lined up and lowered himself into Bucky, resting himself on his smaller boyfriend. The two of them were nearly entirely joined, and Bucky arched his head up to kiss Steve, completing a beautiful circle of coital embrace.

Bucky could feel Steve’s flesh ripple against him as the blond began to thrust into him, and he slipped his hands into the crease that formed at Steve’s waist when he was face-down like this. Steve held himself up with his arms on either side of Bucky, his belly pushing into Bucky’s torso each time he arched his back.

He rested his head in the place between Bucky’s neck and his shoulder, whispering unintelligible praises and sucking bruises along his collarbone, his new beard aggravating Bucky’s skin.

Bucky gasped and dug his nails into Steve’s fleshy side, marking them up with red lines to join the stretch marks that were already there. Steve hissed at the pain, and Bucky quickly apologised, lightening his grip, but Steve quickened his pace, pounding Bucky into the pavement under the car mercilessly, biting the meat of his shoulder.

Bucky held on as tightly as he dare, pulling them together, needing more, needing every ounce of contact and stimulation he could get, and then Steve reached the brink and tipped over, coming inside of him. The brunet came for the second time, spraying his semen into the crease of Steve’s underbelly where his dick had been pressed in the friction.

Steve leaned down and kissed Bucky, allowing the come on both of them to just remain for a while, and when they finally parted, gasping for air, Bucky found himself saying “I love you” without even deciding too. The words came so naturally to him now that he found himself consciously preventing himself to say it after every sentence he spoke.

They cleaned themselves up with some napkins from the glovebox, and temporarily sated, Steve returned to the driver’s seat. They agreed on a simple drive through, fast and greasy, and Steve ordered more food than what most people would eat in a day. They saved the actual feeding for their apartment, satisfied to check “car” off their ever-growing list of “To Do” places.