Archive of Our Own ^beta

Steve is just like he remembers. This Steve, who’s all thin wrists and pale skin, the top of his head barely reaching Bucky’s chest. Blue eyes holding a strong determination, heart much too big for his body. The Steve back home is all bulk with a sharp jaw line and these broad shoulders and thick arms that make Bucky weak at the knees. He’s fucking Captain America; he’s his Steve too, but this Steve carries a certain nostalgia that feels like home.

This is the Steve he’s used to. It’s his Steve.

He’s all breathy little sighs and small gasps as Bucky runs his hands under Steve’s untucked shirt, this lithe figure arching into his metal hand, the cold making his nipples harden. Steve is looking up at him through his lashes, blue eyes glazed over, lips parted as he presses his body closer to him. The way his body fits into his makes Bucky groan and hold Steve tighter to him, pulling him in by his tiny waist, wanting to savor this moment.

Everything seemed perfect when Bucky was thrown back in time into their old apartment, Steve had been sitting by their window, sketching, and when he saw him Steve had recognized him, even with all his differences. Steve, never being afraid of nothing, had set his sketchbook down and walked up to him, reached up to move the hair from his eyes with the tips of his fingers, had gently touched the spot where flesh met metal,  looking at him with these eyes and asked what happened to him. In the quiet apartment he told him, and Steve had gotten up on the tips of his toes and kissed his shoulder, and Bucky couldn’t hold back from grabbing his arms and kissing him stupid.

Now he has Steve against the wall, nipping at his neck, sucking marks into his chest, trying to get his lips on any part of him that he can reach, all while Steve makes a whining noise in the back of his throat, tilting his head to give Bucky more access to his neck as he pushes the suspenders off his shoulders, popping the buttons of his shirt to expose more skin because there isn’t enough. When his torso is finally freed of clothing, Bucky groans as he runs his hands over his ribs, “God Steve. You’re so beautiful.”

He picks up Steve easily, with his new arm and larger build, carrying Steve is nothing. Steve’s hands clutch at his shirt, shoulders hunching as he kisses him hard, crashing their mouths together as he wraps his legs tight around his waist.

“Stevie,” he moans into his mouth.

He settles Steve on the mattress in the corner of the apartment, the springs a rusty whine as Bucky brackets Steve’s smaller body with his own, hands and knees on either side of him, his spine tickled with arousal when he truly notices the difference in size between them, mouth watering when he notices how hard Steve is. Bucky easily sheds them both of their clothes, pulling off Steve’s pants and underwear in one go, Steve’s smaller hands working the buckle on his belt. They both moan when Bucky lines up their naked bodies together, erections incredibly hard.

Steve is as impatient as ever, throwing up his hips, grinding them into Bucky. It makes the room spin, makes Bucky feel hot and desperate in a way that makes him want to claim Steve, mark him so he won’t ever forget this moment. He finds the oil Steve used to keep under the pillow and quickly covers his fingers with it, Steve pawing at him, “Come on Buck, hurry.”  When he inserts the first finger, Steve’s entire body arches off the bed, breaking into tremors that make it hard for Bucky to go easy on him.  When he’s open enough for a second finger, he can barely suppress a moan.

He continues to work his fingers in and out of him, trying to stretch him out, working in that tight heat. Steve  thrashes on the bed, canting his hips to Bucky’s hand, digging his fingers deeper. He can feel his hole begin to loosen and relax around his fingers, and he wants so badly to just fuck him, it’s all he can think about until Steve reaches up to cup Bucky’s cheek, eyes softening, a question there when he looks at him. “Even in the future, you’re still mine?” Steve asks.

Bucky turns his head and kisses his palm, then looks down at him again. “I’ll always be yours, Steve.”

Steve’s eyes soften before they roll back and he drops his head back on the pillow, moaning as Bucky thrusts his fingers into him, wasting no time in opening him up quickly, feeling him loosen around him. Steve’s body jerks like he can’t handle all the simulation, and Bucky might be too rough, rougher than he was in this timeline, but Steve isn’t complaining, only digging his fingers into his biceps, squeezing hard and biting his lower lip.

When Steve looks like he’s about to cry out, he pulls his fingers out, watching as Steve settles limply on the mattress, eyes glassy and pupils blown wide. He looks dazed as Bucky reaches for the oil again, but his eyes sharpen when he sees Bucky grab hold of his own cock, slicking himself as he strokes his length. Steve, still keeping his eyes on him, offers only a sly grin as spreads his thighs out, giving Bucky full view.

It takes all his willpower not to come then and there. He gives himself a firm squeeze at the base before settling between those beautifully parted legs. Steve looks impatient as ever as Bucky runs his hands over his sides before he lines himself up, taking a firm hold of Steve’s hips before sliding inside. It’s almost too much at once. Steve is smaller in this time, making him feel so incredibly tight, that molten heat squeezing around Bucky’s cock in a vice grip.

“Fuck, you’re so small, so fucking tight.”

Steve is trembling, his breathing coming in shaky. Bucky is much the same, he gives Steve’s hips a squeeze and rocks his hips, groaning at the overload of sensation; he just knows he won’t be able to keep this pace much longer. He needs Steve so bad, to fill him up, make him cry out, to wreck him. Bucky pulls out completely, missing the heat from Steve’s hole instantly. Steve whines low in his throat, lifting his hips, crawling at the sheets. Bucky spares him a last, raw and open gaze, Steve licking his lips and sucking in breaths before he grabs hold of those slim hips again and slides back in. Steve cries out when he’s filled again, and goddamn if that noise isn’t going to be ringing in Bucky’s head for days.

A raw moan escapes Steve’s kiss swollen lips, Steve’s eyes are so blown, the blue is barely visible.  Even if he does manage to go back to his time, he’ll remember this. The wet slap of their skin, Steve’s nails raking down his back, his teeth biting down on Bucky’s shoulder to keep from crying out. He pounds into him with fever, cock in so deep, feeling like he’s going to come at any second, Steve feels that good. He just loves how narrow his hips feel in his hands, his hands eloping the small waist, holding him steady as he slams into the delicate frame.

He brings his hands down to under Steve’s thighs, spreading them further as Steve writhes on his cock. “I can move you how I want, and you’ll just take it.” His balls slap against Steve’s ass as he fucks him in earnest. Steve’s eyes roll back, blonde lashes fluttering as his fingers flex on Bucky’s biceps as his lips spill moan after moan, his thighs quivering.

Sweat covers Steve’s pale chest, his hair sticking to his forehead, a flush spreading on his cheeks, he looks so beautiful. He leans over him, crushing his legs to his chest, and kisses him hard on the mouth. He knows he has to go back sometime, but he wants the taste of him to linger in Steve’s mouth, the firm pressure of his lips to remain there so Steve won’t forget him, not the way Bucky had forgotten about him.

Steve’s nails scratch down the length of his back, making him arch into it, and keeps fucking him hard so that Steve bites down on Bucky’s lip to keep from shouting, and Bucky just keeps fucking him hard, lips never leaving him, swallowing down all his wanton moans. He sees the spots of precum dripping from the tip, landing on Steve’s pale, flat stomach, and Steve is making those noises from the back of his throat, starting to get on that side of desperate, like orgasming if the only thing on Steve’s mind.

He’s close to the edge, so Bucky manages to fuck him harder, sliding into his loosened hole a few more times before he takes Steve there. He comes hard, legs spasming and nails a blunt pressure on his shoulder blades as he spills between them, splashing hot cum on their stomachs. He gets so tight around Bucky, he can feel himself twitch, feel every inch of himself inside Steve.

After he comes down from his high, Steve combs his fingers through Bucky’s damp hair, panting hot air against Bucky’s skin as he continues to move inside of him. “Come on Buck, make me yours,” he rasps out.

His body tenses for a second before his orgasm washes over him and he shoots his load inside him, finishing in that tight little ass, coming for what feels like several minutes. He pulls out and falls limply on the mattress next to Steve, trying to catch his breath. He looks over at him with heavy lids, feeling sated and content. He reaches out to touch that stretch of pale skin next to him. Steve smiles softly as Bucky runs his hand over his thighs.

“Up for another round, Barnes?”

The room smells like them, his body is hot from the heat of their bodies. As his eyes travel over Steve, he sees his hands left bruises on his hips, he almost forgot how fragile he used to be. But Steve’s not complaining, his eyes are still blown, and he’s half hard. Bucky grins and rolls to drape over Steve’s body again, Steve’s thin arms wind around his neck, pulling him down for a bruising kiss.

“Are you, Rogers?”

Steve laughs, and yeah, Bucky is up for several more rounds. As much as he can have before he has to go back.