Entry tags:

Yes, Master~

Consensual Control

Content Warning: Dubcon

Sex is fun. Sometimes, sex involves power dynamics. The master and the servant. The dom and the sub. Or, perhaps, something stranger. This is a meme for characters exploring the space defined by these power dynamics, without either party being forced into it against their will. It's a game, and the only winners are the ones who have a good time.

Of course, this being an RP meme, we can get a little surreal with it, too.

BDSM Rules. No outside enforcement of the dynamic; you just both agree to the rules. The safest version of this, because if you don't like what happens, you can just stop. For added fun, bring some costumes and role playing into it.
That's an Order. One of you is high enough status that the other can't freely disobey their orders. They wouldn't use that power against you, of course... but what if you asked them to?
Winner takes all. Like the first one, but with a PVP element. Have a fight, or a gamble, and wager yourself on the outcome. To the winner go the spoils, to do with as they please.
Hypnosis. Have you ever wanted to get hypnotized into being someone's sex toy? Now you can. Hypnosis is super real, and it puts you into a sort of trance that your partner can use to control you every thought.
Super Aphrodisiac. If you drink this, you'll be so overcome with lust that you won't be able to control yourself. What happens after that is out of your hands. Bottoms up.
Body control. The result of some kind of hypertech or magic ritual. For a fixed period of time, if your new master gives an order, your body will follow it automatically, with or without your permission. Depending on the version, they may even be able to control your sensitivity, or make you climax with a word.
Use your imagination. Got an idea along the theme that isn't on the list? Make up your own hook! I'm not your daddy.

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Gotta take his time with this, hard as they both are. Wants to make it last, even if he thinks he can probably nail Buck through at least another one. Lets his fingers trip and trail over every bruise, every scrape, teasing his nipples, pressing hard into the dug in marks he left earlier. A beautiful ruin.

If he could afford to he'd paint Buck like this, keep it in their bedroom.

"Wouldn't have let you." Steve hisses, hips hitching instinctively forward but- slow. Slow and deep, mak'n it last. That toy he pushed into Bucky isn't as thick as he is, but it also didn't give the way his cock will. Like their bodies gotta mold themselves to one another. It's work that's worth doing for how well they fit when he finally gets his hips pressed to the curve of Bucky's ass, breathing slow and deep and even. Body on fire, sweat darkening his hair, his undershirt.

Just like that first time in the unbearable sticky heat of their powerless apartment. Lightening and streetlights their only way of seeing each other. Buck all silvered and slick and dying for it, Steve fearless and stupid, taking an impossible risk because he was too irritated to think straight. Even Bucky couldn't bitch about the extra money but he hadn't expected what came after.

How it twists into something so good.

"Been planning tonight for weeks, Baby. Since the last round of sketches. Knew I'd get a key if I finished that job early." Then it was a matter of waiting for his body to get with the program. For their schedules to line up just right. Neither of them need to get up early tomorrow and Steve doesn't need to do any physical work for at least two days.

Laundry's all done. Food's all cooked and easy to reheat. He'll need that time to recover but it's worth it. Bucky's worth all that care and planning. "Knew I wanted t'fuck you so good you'd get loud. Wanted to hear it."

All it takes is Steve's hands skimming over every mark he left behind, as if checking to make sure that yeah, they're still there like some kind of trophy and the slick head of his cock pressed right at his entrance like a promise. That's all it takes - Bucky almost forgets the first rule; almost grabs himself, hand actually twitching down to his dick before he remembers himself. With a uneven gasp, Bucky forces his hand away and just runs it through dark hair gone completely damp with sweat, sticking to his temple or flopping free of the pomade. Compared to the sharp dressed guy who left the apartment, Bucky has no clue how ruined he looks.

"Fuuu–uucckk," Bucky's head falls back in a long arch, body bowing upwards like it always does when Steve pushes into him in the first time in ages. Maybe the toy was stiffer, but Steve is long, and he's thick. Bigger than you'd expect from a little guy, and Bucky's groan shakes at the ceiling as if Steve's pushing it out of him with every inch. Loud enough that anyone down the hall could hear. Certainly loud enough to get the cops called on them back at their joint.

His hole clasps greedily around the hot shaft opening him up, Bucky compulsively working his hips in a little circle just to feel every inch sink in until at least, Steve's pushed against him, balls deep.

Bucky's hands kind of flail about as Steve finishes seating himself to a very thick hilt. He has to grab at the backrest, fumbling for something to hold onto, while his other hand lands with a slap on Steve's hip and holds on. His heel digs in hard against him as Bucky shakes all around him.

"Guess…guess you got your wish," Bucky pants. Planning this for weeks. He pushes down a little more, to really feel Steve filling him up, savoring the hot, bittersweet burning stretch. "Got more than you bargained for huh?"

They're both gonna be bruised in the morning. A handprint on his hip, a band around his thigh. Twinges and aches he pushes through and ignores to keep grinding right on in, eyes fluttering shut as the sheer heat of Bucky draws him in. Sets fire to his marrow like the worst sort of fever; but be'n sick never felt so goddamn good. "Fuck-"

Punched out of him in a short breath where Bucky moans loud and long, gorgeous and begging for attention- he's earned it. More than.

Let the club hear how well he takes it. How hard Steve's giv'n it to him. Let the line of boys on Steve's Dance Card know who it is he goes home to and why he doesn't always give them the time of day. How could he when he has this waiting for him? A sweet sharp smile, cut jaw, broad shoulders. All the musculature and power of a man, all the soft pretty parts of a dame with an ass that's obscene and a mouth like a hoover. None of them could compare.

One hand holds Bucky's thigh steady, the other skims up his chest, tugging the tie off his face without warning so he can see how dark Bucky's eyes have been blown- and Buck can see the flush giving Steve enough color he damn near looks healthy. Eyes bright and lips bit red, undershirt sticking to him and belt jingling where they join, the metal cool compared to their combined fever heat.

Steve's hair falls into his eyes as he leans forward, grinding in good and deep before pulling out and pressing in. Slow and deep, eyes locked on Bucky's. Breath hissed in between his teeth like he's fighting off an asthma attack. "Nah, Buck. I can always take you-"

Oh Jesus. His hole clenches all around the hot shaft. Steve's swear comes in a short punched out sound, always like he's surprised all over again at how hot and tight Bucky is when he first sinks inside him. With the blindfold on, Bucky's entire focus boils down to the open fly brushing against him, the throbbing cock stuffing him so full that Bucky's hyperware of every inch.

He already feels like he's halfway out of his mind again. It comes and goes like that, the dose driving him so cock-hungry that nothing else registers. So he doesn't even notice Steve tug the tie off at first. Bucky's eyes are closed, lashes dark against his cheeks before they flutter open against the warm lamplight, then slide up to meet Steve's.

The grey in Bucky's eyes is already swallowed up by the dark arousal, glassy like he's having a hard time focusing between Steve's face looking so gorgeous, down to the lips begging to get his teeth on them, and then down, down to where they're joined together, with Steve's undershirt half rucked up on slender, perfect hips and Steve's cock buried inside him. Bucky's eyes go down there and stay down there, suddenly obsessed with the sight of him being forced to take every inch.

"Not even a challenge for you-," Bucky cuts off when a hungry groan gets fucked out of him as Steve begins to move. Begins to fuck him like Bucky's been aching for every since he wound his arm around Bucky's waist. Pleasure spasms across Bucky's face.

His own cock looks painfully hard as it bobs with each grind against him, Bucky's nails dragging against Steve's hips as Steve works his cock inside his hole in easy, slow, deep thrusts. Makes him feel every inch as he's opened anew, especially when Steve's cock threatens to slip free. Bucky circles his hips up and greedily swallows him down on a thrust, bearing down on him as he fumbles up for Steve's shirt and drags him in for a messy kiss, tongue fucking deep inside his mouth in one slick slide.

He looks a picture- always does. First thing in the morning, fresh from the shower, exhausted and strung out from god knows how many days he's been up work'n to make ends meet. Sometimes he wonders what the dames get to see when he takes them out for a little 'walk' after dinner and dancing. Is he stern, does he smile and joke to make them feel safe? Does he treat them all soft and sweet, give them the big ole doe eyes hungry for another kiss, another stroke of the hand? Sometimes he wonders if he could ask.

Let Buck get fresh with him, get him all slicked up and grind away inside. Might be somth'n special the way he gets so goddamn hungry for it, how he rolls his hips back, strains for every inch he gets.

Wouldn't work, he doesn't think. Too many chances for something to go wrong with his heart or his lungs , and he gets pushed around enough by the world to not want to bring it into the bedroom. Likes being in charge too much. Taking care of his boys when they kneel all pretty and needful. Loves tak'n care of Bucky. Cradling his trust and his hidden fragility in calloused hands and fucking them both within an inch of Buck's life.

It's beautiful. Wouldn't trade it for anything. "Hardly, with how you're always so hungry for it. Barely have to tap my belt buckle before you're eye'n me like a well trimmed steak. Don't see you look at other fella's like that- just me."

"That why you started doing it so much, just to get my attention?" Bucky pants against Steve's lips, then licks deep inside his mouth. Practically ravages him to make up for the lost time; it's been torture not having his mouth on his for so long. He only breaks free when his lungs begin to burn. "Other guys don't hold a candle to you."

They never did, even before he fell into this game with Steve. Far as he sees it, a fella like Steve's one in a million.

Bucky drags Steve down over him with a hand gripping his hair, trailing a trail of hot kisses up along the hard angle of his jaw. His cock rears up between them, angry and desperate looking, already drooling clear onto Bucky's stomach each time Steve pumps in so deep that Bucky's toes curls. Can't touch it himself - Steve said so. But it doesn't mean much if he happens to brush up against Steve while he impales him. Precome streaks against Steve's stomach, against his hip, as Bucky squirms up under him to trace even an ounce of frction.

Bucky's eyes look fever-bright with arousal when he lifts them back up to Steve's, and even though he said he wanted it slow, the greedy hunger flares up again and washes everything else. Makes him just want. Makes him chase after the pleasure that's starting to burn hot all over again.

Clutching at the sofa, Bucky pushes himself back onto Steve's cock, eagerly seating himself to the hilt, and loving the stretch as he's opened up again. Steve's bigger than you'd expect, but the feeling of getting worked open and stuffed full never gets old.

Steadily, Bucky fucks himself down onto him, tight despite the toy Steve had slide inside him, whimpering as his reddened, tender ass brushes against Steve's slacks.

He's got a line waiting and ready but it's hard to speak when Buck gets his mouth on him. There's a few reasons he doesn't just lie back and let this happen often- those lips are like a drug. Like world class whiskey all pepper hot and honey sweet, smokey and sharp and he groans into the kiss. Sucks on the tongue Bucky slips him eager as anything.

Too easy to forget Bucky isn't only his in every which way instead of the moments they tumble into each other. Sure they both talk a big game, paint out wet dreams and fantasies but they live like nothing's different until something or other crashes them together with aching heat and a firm hand. But kissing makes it feel more real. More like he could keep this for good, maybe sneak in something lighter and easier even on days when he can't get it up or when the weather lays him out.

Steve has to push it from his mind, swearing, panting against the angle of Bucky's jaw, caught up between the smear of those lips, the odd press and slide of Buck's cock, and the impossibly tight clench. Should've used a bigger toy but then he wouldn't have gotten this.

How hungry Bucky is for him.

The gripping heat, how he whimpers and moans between each kiss, grinds back so desperate. Tries-

Tries to speed things up and take it rough and "No, Buck-"

Panting and trying to reach for that firm voice ut unable to quite manage it after so much of this mess. He presses his forehead into Bucky's shoulder and rocks in deep- going still. "If you can't-fuck - If you can't behave you don't- you don't get anything. You asked for this, so you're gonna get it-"

Little whimpers and moans end up fucked out of him - at this point, Bucky's so tight that every slide into his add feels a little like it's strangling Steve's cock each time he thrusts home. Maybe they should've used something bigger to prep Bucky before Steve pushed in. Any other day at least. But now Bucky wouldn't dream of having him any other way. It's perfect. Steve's perfect. He can't get enough of how full Steve makes him feel, how he grinds against that spot inside him that sends fierce waves of pleasure down his spine, and if he's limping later, it'll be like a badge of honor. Steve did that, and Bucky was able to take it, able to carry around the soreness for a couple days like a souvenir.

So Bucky pours himself into this moment where it's allowed, because it already feels like he's starved of him already. Bucky turns his head and drags Steve away from his shoulder into another greedy, searing kiss even when Steve just stops inside him, other hand sliding up to scrape up into blond strands like he can't bear not to mess him up further.

He could survive on only Steve's kisses if he had his way. But they're not supposed to be like that. Getting soft and sweet all the time was for making time with a nice dame. Not your best guy.

But what Bucky can't survive right now with Steve just…not moving. Bucky doesn't mean to whine against Steve's mouth - later he'd swear he didn't- but that's exactly what comes out. He bears down on his cock, trying to massage his length, get him going even when Steve doesn't budge.

"Jesus, Joseph and Mary," Bucky gasps, squirming all over Steve's dick throbbing inside him. He vaguely remembers saying it. When he'd an ounce of wits back, which Bucky's starting to think is overrated. Now with his dick running the show all over again, it's hard to remember why he said that. He just wants. Leaning up, Bucky catches Steve's lips between his teeth, biting into the lower lip that Bucky always thought looked too pretty and plush for a guy. "Please, pal, you gotta move. Please. You can't leave me hanging here."

That whine is gonna live lodged in the back of Steve's mind, in the pit of his gut forever. He's never heard Buck so desperate, so needy, never had him wiggle around like if he doesn't get some friction he'll die. If he hadn't already quit he would've to keep from shooting off. Thank fuck when he's not moving that too tight clasp aches enough to keep him from tipping over the edge early.

Buck said slow and deep so he'll get it slow and deep until Steve can't.

"You're gonna get what you asked for-" Slow. He withdraws slow and slick, trying to pin Bucky's hips to keep him from rocking down and taking more. "And you're gonna like it. You're not call'n the shots here, remember?"

The barest thread of control, he scrapes and strains for that deep, heavy voice but this breathless and close he just sounds pissed about the weather. He'll take what little dignity he can get. It's not much but it might be enough.

Holding Buck's thighs wide he withdraws, grinds in, waits to the count of three to not shoot off (and to be a bastard, but mostly the first one), and then out again. Annoyed like this he can push a little harder, slap their hips together loud enough to be heard under all Buck's wanton cries.

His hear'n ain't so good and Buck's five kinds of distracted but he might be able to hear a muffled 'jesus fuck' from whoever's pressed on the other side of the door, listening to them, stroking themselves off. Steve'll worry about that later. Hard to manage when there's teeth in his lip and it smarts like a devil, when all he wants, all he can think about is biting Bucky back so he does. High enough to see over his shirt collar, teeth digging in blunt against the side of his throat.

Bucky kind of hates his past self for screwing things for him now.

"Yes, sir, I remember," Bucky's replies huskily, face twisted with an unhappy grimace - why the hell did he have to let his brain call the shots back there, what the hell does it know? - but he nods. Steve's the one calling the shots. And Bucky? He's always loved it more than he should when the little guy gets all stubborn. Gets all bossy and a pain in the ass. All Bucky has to do is take it every inch.

Steve could be out there with those guys filling up his dance card, but he's here with him, being so damn patient for Bucky. He'd be pathetically grateful if he wasn't so desperately hard up, his dick pulsing and so damn hard that Bucky's not sure how it hasn't fallen off yet.

Bucky's eyes slide half-shut, almost dreamy, when Steve grinds deep and holds, forcing a strain into his thighs: makes him feel every inch of the throbbing shaft nestled inside him, before dragging it back out in a toe-curling slide. Bucky arches under him with a needy groan as Steve's hips slap back into his, grinds against that spot in him as he impales him again, his own cock leaking steadily like Steve's just about fucking more out of him.

But there's something underneath the smack of flesh; someone outside their door, someone listening in and liking it. Bucky's eyes go a little glassy, hip jolting upwards to fuck against nothing at all with a broken moan, at the thought of that door opening, of whoever it is stopping at his head and guiding Bucky's mouth onto a hard cock so he'll be filled from both ends. Oh God, yes please.

He'd been petting Steve's hair sloppily until then, now Bucky's fingers drag in tight, hard enough to make it smart when Steve turns the kiss into a biting mess, and dragged down the column of his throat. Drag new welts like he's marking his territory.

Bucky jolts under him with the desperate sounds of a man dying. His dick looks painfully red, glistening and untouched, bouncing obscenely each time Steve gives it to him. He scrabbles at Steve's belt, hooking his fingers in them, body eagerly swallowing up every inch.

"Someone'll...Someone'll see, you shouldn't-" Bucky's voice breaks on one thrust so deep he can feel it in his chest.

"Shouldn't what?" Steve's voice has gone ragged, his patience well worn past thin. Deep and slow and he thinks, he thinks he's been going long enough to keep it good. Christ knows he can't keep going this slow with the heat pooling at the base of his spine, tangling in his gut like barbed wire. "Shouldn't mark what's mine?"

He doesn't expect an answer with how he's giving up on slow and deep and steady, using the very last of his energy and irritation at Bucky telling him to not. They're in this mess cuz Bucky couldn't keep his mind and mouth to himself months ago. He asked for this, he started this. Like every argument they get wrapped up in, keeping track of who kicked off the row gives Steve a leg to stand on and enough power in his lungs to go at it. Bout as hard as he managed to swing and redden Buck's ass he snaps in faster, harder, deeper.

Won't be able to manage this long. He never can. But even being able to manage for a moment-

He'll take that.

Glower down at Bucky like they're in the middle of a fight instead of him balls deep driving away in Buck's ass, breath hissing out between his teeth. Tomorrow he'll be bruised and sore and moving at all is gonna be five kinds of a chore but it's worth it for how hot and desperate Buck is under him right now. One hand skims up from his hip to finally fist around his cock, squeezing and stroking, determined to get Buck to come screaming one last time before his body gives out.

there's a tickle at the back of his throat, a hitch in his breath that's his usual warning of an impending attack, but he's gotta do this. Can't do it all day but for the next minute? Every muscle in his too skinny frame is honed in on nailing Bucky through the sofa, voice a rumbling growl. "Let 'em see. You're mine, remember? No one else's. Let 'em watch you whine like a callgirl gett'n good dick, let 'em be jealous they can't give it to you half this hard-"

They got this rule about leaving marks where anyone on the street can see. Even a good reason for it, only Bucky can't think of anything else but the hot scrape of Steve's voice all over him and the drag of the thick shaft inside him. Whatever answer Bucky had dies off into a watery keen, fingers pulling too hard at Steve's hair as he forgets to gentle his grip. His, his, his.

Just doesn't seem all that important when Steve ruts away at him, slow and deep and stubbornly steady, opening Bucky's hole up like he's carving out himself a piece to call home. Bucky trembles under him with the effort it takes not to accidentally knock Steve's grip off his hips where he's pinning him down; it'd be too easy to do it and ruin the fantasy, so it's the last crumb of willpower he's got to let Steve hold him steady. No fucking himself back on his cock, even as Bucky tries to bear down and squeeze each time Steve fucks into him.

Until finally Steve gives it to him, really gives it to him.

Bucky can't help it: he jostles Steve's grip as he lurches upwards, one hand digging into Steve's ass as he thrusts back upwards to meet each hard thrust pounding him into the mattress, nailing that bundle of nerves with the same aim as a sniper. Bucky's eyes roll back and squeeze shut, eyelashes damp with the rising pleasure that's getting to be too much as Steve pistons into him, forcing the moans out of Bucky to ratchet higher and higher while Steve glares down at him. Close, so goddamn close, it feels so good, it hurts, it hurts so fucking good.

Steve's hand finally touches his dick, and Bucky practically sobs under him, almost throwing him off balance when his hips snap desperately up to hump into his grip. But it's the words growling in his ear that finishes him off. The pleasure burning through him just…snaps. Bucky's face twists in agonized ecstasy as he screams a shattered sound, body going tight around Steve's dick and his cock throbbing as it starts to come hard; the spurts are broken and weaker, like he's on his last legs, dragged reluctantly out of him like that's all he's got left.

It feels a lot like dying as he shakes apart, as Bucky comes so hard he actually blacks out from the force of it, limbs going heavy against Steve as he's reduced down to several last twitches.

This has to be the last one, he doesn't think Buck's body can manage another. Steve's damn sure this is the last of what his fragile shell of a spine can manage, these brief moments where he feels almost normal. When he can breathe and fuck and bite and feel so intensely it's not like he was born a little off, a little wrong, half deaf and colorblind but stubborn enough to make up for it. For a moment the world's in color and he can hear every last warble of Bucky's voice as he cracks apart under him.

Never heard his voice go quite that ragged and high.

Never felt him shudder and clench half so tight.

Part of him wonders if he shouldn't ask after whatever Buck got dosed with but it's quiet, forgotten quickly with the shuddering, slick clench, the scramble to not fall off of Bucky and the sofa, his breath and blood too hot in vein and lung. Steve swears a blue streak that'd have his ma evil mad, forehead to the sweaty skin of Bucky's throat, hips stuttering, rhythm faltering.

Steve doesn't even realize Bucky's gone limp with how hard he locks up and comes, painting wet heat inside his best guy.

Both of them are a mess and that last little tickle becomes a wheeze, one he needs to handle. "One- one sec Buck-"

Doesn't go far, just fumbles muzzily with the carton in the jacket he put over the back of the sofa, packet of matches. Strike and inhale so he doesn't cough, menthol opening up his lungs and leaving everything tinged minty green. Two, three puffs- and Buck's not giving him shit for the smell. Isn't moving at all- "Bucky? Buck-"

Fear pricks the back of Steve's neck, he's careful to hold the glowing cherry far from the heave of Bucky's chest, other narrow hand patting his cheek. "C'mon, this isn't funny-"

At first, Steve's pats don't do a damn thing at first. Bucky's head only lols, eyes closed, a sheen of sweat spread at the roots of dark hair gone wild, while his face has gone slack with tell-tale tracks glistening down his cheeks, lips rosy and parted with each labored breath.

For several long seconds, Bucky doesn't react. He's out like a light; the force of coming so hard and on orgasm number four's enough to do anyone in. Then his mouth twitches, eyebrows furrowing with a weak moan as his body suddenly tenses half-heartedly on the shaft still buried wet inside him. It's a lot like drifting back from the depths of the darkest ocean. Drifting awake again and trying to figure out what's going on, why this couch feels better than the one they got back home, why he's splayed out, who's shaft's plunged balls deep inside him or why there's a wet trail dripping from his ass around it.

What that godawful smell is.

His nose scrunches first; what he registers first is that awful smell of Steve's smokes above him.

"Ugh, open a window, Rogers, and park yourself there," slurs Bucky. Dazedly, grey eyes open and they look faraway and stinging for a moment, squinting against the light as if he's trying to scrape together what just happened. His cock feels so tender that Bucky hisses a little under his breath like just the air itself is too much, His thigh shifting aimlessly against Steve's hip. His hand doesn't so much grab Steve's wrist so much as just kind of limply slap itself onto there. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Edited 2025-06-04 05:18 (UTC)

There's probably something wrong with Steve, he thinks, that even like this, unconcious and drifting so hard he might actually be in some kinda trouble, that he still finds Bucky gorgeous. Wonders about what it would look like to play with him, rail him slow and deep while he's sleep'n-

His cock gives an exhausted twitch inside Bucky and between that and the crinkled nose the air of control, of mastery slips away at last.

Position aside they're just two fellas that happen to fuck on occasion- and that's fine. "Gave me an attack, dragg'n me in like that."

Satisfied he didn't literally screw Bucky senseless Steve ducks his head, laughing at the situation while he holds his cigarette far from Buck's delicate sensibilities. One more puff and he's not in danger of wheezing- takes half a second to lick his fingers and pinch off the glowing tip. Can't afford to buy a new carton for awhile, gotta make these last. "You passed out."

Should he sound so proud? No. Does he? Absolutely. Smug as Bucky bringing home a fresh wad of cash or a pocket fulla lacy dames' things after a night out. Steve packs the cigs away and pulls out, moving them around so Bucky can lie back and he can just pet his hair until the worst of the shakes pass. "I gave you dick so good you passed out."

[[ooc: roflmao, I love smug-feeling-my-oats Steve so much]

Once he's got another braincell left - for a whopping handful now- Bucky's disappointed he didn't feel Steve come inside him. But waking up to Steve's cock stuffing him open, when Bucky's not sure how long he was out? Bucky shudders a little with an echo of arousal, liking that a little too much.

A baffled look comes over Bucky's face when Steve ducks his head and laughs with something that sounds frayed at the edges with relief. The hell's so funny, Steve? Bucky idly traces weak patterns along Steve's thigh once he can actually lift his arm, relieved when just touching Steve doesn't send such a rush of lust through him this time. Not that Steve's not a head-turner to Bucky. It just feels a little like he's calming down. Thank God.

He does scrub roughly at his eyes - he just got something in them, he wasn't crying - though.

Once Steve gets a couple puffs in so he can answer without wheezing, Bucky actually gapes up at him. "I didn't fucking faint."

He can't help wincing a little when Steve drags his cock free, leaving Bucky aching and empty. He does manage to fight the urge to tell him to put it back in. Trembling like he trained for two days straight, Bucky manages to arrange himself ina graceless sprawl that really does look like a whore fucked to exhaustion.

"Maybe you were on a roll," Bucky grumbles. Though he also closes his eyes with a pleased sigh and leans into Steve's hair, the aftershocks thrumming through him. "...You do have a talent for it."

[ he's so proud of himself!!! ]

Steve's hand keeps smoothing soft and easy through Bucky's hair, cock tucked away in his shorts, fly and belt done back up, the only real sign that he railed Bucky six ways to sunday the flush in his cheeks and how messy his hair is. Maybe the rough edge to his voice, how the marks Buck dragged and bit into him are livid against his pale skin, but it's all attitude.

While Bucky looks a fucking mess- and for once? He can see it.

Steve reaches down to tap Bucky's chin, tilting his face to the far wall. There's a reason he picked this room for them- a huge mirror that shows them both dressed down or utterly ruined, letting him see how undone they've both become. Bruises and scrapes all over, Bucky naked and lounging like Achilles, Steve a general rather than a Ganymede, all lazy power and proprietary petting.

Hell, he might have to make a portrait like this for the club. It'd sell enough.

"You did. I actually fucked your brains out." Skinny little Steve Rogers who most looked at and saw a fairy (even if they're kinda right), nailed ladykiller James Barnes so good he saw stars and fainted dead away like a dame on her honeymoon.

[ooc: as he should be!]

Bucky's got his head resting on Steve's thigh, while Steve combs through Bucky's hair in a way that draws out a contented hum as Bucky tilts his face up, seeking more. Weariness creeps into his limbs, and dozing off to Steve caressing his hair honestly seems pretty swell. That and he doesn't know if he can even make the trip back. Bucky already started out tired, worked to the bone, and now he's deliciously exhausted. Hell, he could sleep for a week.

No matter how tired he is, Bucky still goes where Steve is. His eyes drift open wearily but he goes with the fine hands tilting his jaw to look…

Bucky gasps. He'd been so out of it and hungry for Steve that he hadn't noticed the mirror until now. But they look incredible.

Steve looks powerful, like a commander or a mafia boss with his undershirt on and suspenders back up, looking all put together except for the color sitting pretty on high cheeks, the messy hair and the welts Bucky left on him. But he looks in control, he looks so perfect. And then - Bucky's gaze drifts downwards.

He barely recognizes himself. He's sprawled in a boneless mess all over Steve's lap, looking like he can't lift a finger, bare skin littered with marks, his softening dick resting against a curled thigh, and a gleam of white seed trickling from his hole to stain his thigh. He looks so used. Drifting, drunk or dreamy like he's not entirely on Earth. Steve's right. He did fuck his brains out.

Bucky shudders. It's not that Bucky can't feel the phantom thrums of arousal humming through him. But it's on the backburner, and this time Bucky can feel the difference, that he's not in danger (God willing) for round five. Round five would put him in the grave for real. Bucky tucks his face into Steve's thigh as if to hide from the mirror before it does get under his collar. "You're never lettin' me live this down, are you?"

He's definitely gonna need to make this some kinda portrait. Change the players a little bit, make it less obvious it's them or a memory of them, but a lean blond broad in the shoulder, settled and certain, and a messy brunette? The juxtaposition of typical masculine beauty put in a submissive state while the othered is powerful and in charge.

It could work. He'll start on it when they get back home, god knows he won't be walking around the house anytime soon with the bruises he's got under his slacks and the slow creeping tension he can feel in his spine and thighs. It's an effort to take Buck like he means it but...seeing how sweet he was in the moment makes it worthwhile.

Also:

Fucking Bucky so stupid he fainted. Sure, the drug helped, but he got him off. That's something to be proud of, something he'll carry to keep himself content from now until he finally finds a dame to settle down with. "Never, ever."

Steve gives Bucky another soft chuff of a laugh, ruffling his hair. "Poor baby-"

It might be too much now that they're out of it, but this was more intense than anything they've ever done before. Maybe Buck will let him get away with loving on him a little. With treating him all sweet and soft until they need to pass the key back and stumble their way home.

Every nerve feels rubbed raw. And with even the air itself making every part of him feel too sensitive, Bucky doesn't even want to think about getting dressed yet. Much less dragging himself back home. Hopefully this room isn't paid for by the hour. If that makes him a big old baby, then that's what he is.

"Mmmhmm, guess I am. I can't even move," Bucky groans into Steve's hip, face mashed into it. No funny business, Bucky's (hoping) he's out for the count. Really, the next one could kill him. And he's not ready to go.

(although Steve railing him that hard wouldn't be the worst way to go)

But he wants more than anything to feel his best friend. And after Steve fucking his brains out, he's got a pretty good excuse to want to cuddle up against him and just drift in the moment. Feeling like a monumental effort, Bucky manages to drag his arms up to kind of haplessly toss them along Steve's hips to hug him close like a living teddy bear. If one was made with sharp angles and a bird beak of a nose. And the filthiest mouth known to man.

Bucky nuzzles against him, now starting to sound drowsy and utterly content. "Carry me back, will you?"

They've got a few hours yet; getting in good with the owner meant Steve has as long as he wants to spend with his special fella. Depending on what Bucky feels like and the next time they get out, they might even be able to get a little extra cash using the room with a window, let some people pay for a peep show as they enjoy each other.

But that's a thought for another time, game well and over and every last nerve of his humming with contentment honey thick. More than enough to cover up the aches and pains he'll have to deal with for at least the next three days.

"I try to do that I'll have another attack." Both hands settle in Bucky's hair, combing it out of his face, settling on the nape of his neck to massage out tension like he sometimes tries to do when Bucky's dead tired after too many days of work in a row. "...thanks, though. For com'n out with me. I know you've been pull'n extra shifts."

In this little inbetween space it feels safe enough to talk about this. A little. Sideways and sly, even as he pets and soothes Bucky's exhausted skin and scalp.

If they're about to get kicked out, they'll just have to drag Bucky out and toss him on his naked ass. He really can't move.

And he's much less inclined to try and get his strength back when Steve lets him flop over him like an oversized blanket, even when it could knock him flat. This is also something they don't talk about. How Bucky gets all needy and cuddly and Steve's a good enough man to indulge him.

Bucky's eyes are closed, a look of contentment smoothing out the strain from all his responsibilities, as he bows his head to silently offer the nape of his neck up to Steve just to feel his fingers kneading out the tension that builds up there. Not like he can ask for a massage outside of these games. But the moments after? It slides.

"What's the point of going to Goldie's if you can't carry me around like a sack?" Bucky chuckles wearily. Letting his hands rest along Steve's stomach, Bucky all but melts into the touches, just making little soft sounds as Steve pets him. It sounds like he's admitting a secret he'd held close to his chest when he murmurs; "Always. Thanks for taking care of me…"

"I know you're work'n hard. Wanted to show you a good time, cuz you've been doing so much lately." He can't contribute as much financially without laying himself out due to weather, his lungs, his back, his bum ticker- but finding this place has helped plenty. Can't always pump out the drawings as quick as he'd like to but maybe he can talk about something else. Heard about a dirty mag they wanna start to circulate.

Could probably get into it if he asks real nice.

"And I know I ain't been able to- for awhile. Damn bronchitis knocked me low last month." And he couldn't do much more than weakly paw at Bucky's cock and rasp filthy fantasies into his ear. He's lucky that was enough for him, that it worked half so well. "Always, Buck. Ain't anyone kneel half so sweet, even if you're a little bit of a brat."

A beat.

"I like that, though. Just from you."

"You don't need to apologize. Not like you asked for any of that stuff," Bucky cuts him off. If it meant Steve recovering, Bucky'd really rather see him laid up and actually resting than trying to tend to him. "You should've been resting instead."

It's not that Bucky does any of it to get a gold star. He does it because you had to man up if you wanted to survive, and no way in hell was he leaving Steve to manage by himself when he had a friend willing to help. Just doin' what needed to be done. But…maybe it's nice to feel appreciated. Even when he's not expecting it or asking for it.

Maybe Bucky doesn't know why it's such a thrill to sink to his knees for Steve. But maybe it's okay if neither of them really know. So long as they both like it. Steve sure as hell seems to like as much as he does, anyway.

Bucky rumbles a pleased sound into Steve and kind of just rubs his face into Steve's stomach. Not mouthing at him or starting up on anything; he just can't drag another one out of him, but now he can sink into feeling sweet and easy, when the world outside is anything but that. Just with Steve, and only right now.

But he rolls his face to the side and one grey peers up at him. "I saw that guy out there. He would've been on his knees for you too." It sounds like a hopeful question.

Usually he doesn't mention the other boys beyond what it takes to get Bucky to behave while they're fooling around or to wind him up just a little. Dames are different- that's expected. But having a fella on the line-

or several, as Steve's case may be.

That's too queerish for most. Too odd. Buck doesn't seem to care beyond getting green that someone else might have Steve's attention. But if they're talking about it? They can talk about it. "He's knelt for me before. Real shy about it too. Obedient. Doesn't like gett'n roughed up that much, just likes being told what to do."

Like discussing the weather, really. "I don't mind do'n that but...you know me. I like a little push back."

There's never been a fight Steve couldn't pick, even in this. Having someone kneel easy without any kind of fire in them- some fellas like that. Steve? Not so much.

Consensual Control

Now there's an AU idea.

I like it :D

just gonna add that to the list >.>

Yes, perfect >:D

on the one hand, money! On the other hand, Bucky gett'n jealous >.>

That's truly a dilemma. Bucky really does want Steve all to himself

Maybe he hides it at first, they have a small argument?

Bucky would be so upset when he finds out, hurray for more drama

Definetly gotta find a meme to do that thread next >.>

I'm totally down for it after this one's a wrap!

A+

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exhausted brat bucky is so endearing

Steve worked his magic so well

healing dick? No. EXHAUSTION dick.

Steve's true super power. And dialed to eleven with the serum. How can one survive it?

by drinking plenty of water and stretching beforehand >.>