bakerstreet | Take it slow

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Take it slow

Take It Slow
(inspired by an anon comment by a Hulk player and damn it's hard to find gifts from Hulk 2008.)

There are plenty of memes about skipping to the good part, rushing to sex, being desperate for it, and so on. But what about taking things slow? Some people enjoy that, as well, and still others have need to keep their calm - they're inexperienced and not completely ready or they can't get knock-out, drag-down excited for reasons that can get a bit...dangerous. Or the slowness could be nothing serious; foreplay could just be the word of the day. Then, you'll want to enjoy your time together and not run through the motions of a good time 'till its spent too soon.

They say all good comes to those who wait, so savor every moment and wait for the inevitable to come.

how to play

› Comment with your character, preferences, and information.
› Reply to other characters.
› Use the RNG to determine your prompt or pick one.

prompts

inexperience ‹One or both of you don't have the experience nor the confidence.›
trauma ‹You're not at ease getting close to anyone, but for them, you want to try, though you can't go headlong into it.›
under pressure ‹You can't get too heated up because of your powers, your health, or your temper, so you have to keep things under control.›
foreplay ‹Why rush the best part?›
their pleasure ‹Your pleasure doesn't matter. You're 100% focused on them.›
the best torture ‹Actually, you're trying to make them suffer by dragging this out. Isn't hatesex grand?›
emotion ‹You love them. Both of you have a lot to say, so best to say it through actions that can't be done too quickly.›
wrong place ‹Technically, you shouldn't be having sex here, so you have to keep things PG-13. Yeah, right. But at least you can pretend and keep things at a crawl...if you can.›
last time for a while ‹They're about to go away, and you have to spend these moments with them and memorize everything about them.›
last time for good ‹This is the end of the line. You want to make this time together last as long as you can.›
do overs ‹It's time for round two! You've got nowhere better to be, and you could do this all day.›
wildcard

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It's not safe. Nothing is safe. Nothing will ever be safe and Steve needs to know that. He needs to know that he's in danger and will be as long as he has Bucky here at his side. He's a liability. He's a danger. Steve has to get away. Bucky has to get away. The blood in the glass. The swelling. The bruises. The gunshot in Steve's stomach that he put there. That is bleeding out and onto the floor. That he can se-

Bucky's shaking his head back and forth, right until he looks at the gunshot wound and sees nothing but bare stomach. No blood. No wound. Nothing. It doesn't make sense.

"I shot you... Steve, I shot you. I shot you in the stomach and you... you fell. You can't... Where is it? Where is the shot?" His flesh hand surges forward, trying to find where the wound is. Trying to make any of this make sense.

'We're safe.'

Wild eyes look up at Steve. Steve who isn't bruised or bleeding or hurt in any way. Just looking at him compassion, trying to get him to sit down. "I hurt you," he insists, the memories from bed so vivid he can almost smell the coppery tang in the air. But he allows himself to be sat down on the bed. Allows Steve's words to penetrate his mind and convince him that maybe, just maybe, he's missing something important.

"Where...where am I?"

It's the only piece of advice he accepted from a therapist. 'Where am I?' allows Bucky to check reality. To use someone else to confirm what is and isn't there. Allows Bucky to recenter himself in time. And, honesty, he has no fucking idea, so it's a real good question objectively.

"It's a bedroom. But where. What... Where is the bullet? I shot you. There is supposed to be a wound."

"Bucky?" Steve starts to approach him, slowly but surely, not wanting to startle an already startled man. His hands are outstretched, but he won't touch him unless he actually allows him to. "I'm not sure what you're seeing, but look again. I'm fine. You haven't shot me, there's no blood, no wound. I'm all right." He thinks he can guess what flashback Bucky's experiencing, but he has to convince him it's not real.

He slowly reaches to catch the hand that's surged forward, and he guides it over to his stomach. "Here, you can feel for yourself." Having done that, he looks the other man in the eyes, willing himself to stay calm. He has to stay calm for Bucky, if he's ever going to pull himself out of his triggered state.

"Yeah, you did, once. But that was awhile ago now, and everything's fine, see? I'm fine." He's talked with Shuri about this once or twice, needing advice for how to handle Bucky when he has episodes like these. One thing they talked about was reality checks, which is what Bucky's doing right now. "You're in New York, Bucky. You remember New York. It's- It's a nice place, a little bit crowded sometimes, but if you can find the right place, it's almost peaceful." He looks around the room they're in. "This is your apartment. Well, it's our apartment. I come and crash here sometimes, when you let me." He chuckles a little nervously, hoping this is helping to ground him.

"You had a flashback." He hopes telling this to him doesn't trigger another one. "Just a bad memory. Nothing really happened, see?" He points to himself again, hoping Bucky will follow his finger and look at him. "I'm okay, and you are too."

He doesn't want to touch Steve. Doesn't want to stain him with the blood on his hand. But he makes contact and there is no wound. Nothing. Bucky shakes his head but the hunted look in his eyes is fading bit by bit. He blinks, refocusing on Steve's stomach beneath his hand. No wound. He did that once. He caused that pain once. But not now. Not now.

"New York... I grew up in New York." His metal hand strokes over his face and the feel of it almost triggers him all over again. He stares at the metal plates and remembers them curled around Steve's throat. Trying to kill him. Trying so hard to kill him.

"I. Grew up. In. New York," he repeats more firmly, pushing out the next memory trying to push him into a flashback. Not real. None of that is real. Nothing that he is thinking right now is real. Except for Steve. Steve. Whole and healthy and in front of him. He's real. He's the only real thing that he can hold onto.

An anchor. That was another term that he'd been told. An anchor to hold him in the present. That was Steve all over.

"It's...this is our apartment. You...you keep calling it mine but I said as soon as I got it that it was ours. I didn't want it if it wasn't ours." He closes his eyes and the night starts coming back. Their date. The movie. The wine and Bucky pushing Steve to the bed so he could kiss him. He'd done it before. Why had this time been different.

"Shit..." He pulls away and crosses over to the window, prying it open for some air. "Shit... When do these just fucking stop? When do I stop being broken?"

"Yeah, that's right. You grew up here. We both did." He shakes his head at the memories that come flooding back the more he talks. "I remember the little flat we had rented. Paying that off was kind of hard, but we managed. I got a job delivering papers. Except, well, they weren't so happy when I got too sick to do that anymore."

He can see that flash in Bucky's eyes, that look of steel that suggests the Winter Soldier is still lurking somewhere behind those eyes he knows so well. "Stick with me, Bucky, got it? You grew up in New York. You had the run of the place, pretty much. Handsome guy like you, and all."

If Steve was Bucky's anchor, then he was happy to deliver. He needed to keep Bucky in the present, not flashing back to all the terrible things he's done. Those things weren't his fault, no matter how much he tries to argue to the contrary. "Makes sense, doesn't it? You've been spending more time here lately. But you know, it's nice to have a place that we can call ours."

Then his expression drops again as Bucky pulls away from him. "I wish I knew, Buck. I hate seeing you like this, and knowing there's only so much I can do to help. But you know what?" He reaches for Bucky's hand and presses it to his lips. "Broken or whole, I'm always going to be here."

Bucky turned toward Steve, grabbing the side of his head and nearly smashing their lips together in a desperate need to feel something other than his own pain. He kisses Steve like he's the only source of air in the room. His hands trail down and grab onto his hips to hold him steady. It's only until his lips start to hurt and his lungs start to burn that he realizes he needs to stop. He pulls back, eyes shut tight again as he just bends forward and wraps Steve up in his arms. His face presses into his neck, just inhaling him.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Stevie." He's mostly back, now. He shouldn't talk about the flashback so soon, but he can't help it. His breathing is shaky as he just settles in closer and focuses on being here instead of in his mind.

"You were...you were beneath me. And I just saw what I did to you. How I hurt you. And...there was a cup of blood on the side of the bed that... Christ, it was wine. But..." He shakes his head, getting rid of the ghosts there. "I'm sorry. We were having a real good night and I had to go and ruin it with my fucking...whatever this is." He hates giving it a name. Hates giving it any semblance of power over him.

When he pulls back, his face is tight with shame and grief.

"We've done that before. Loads of times. What made this so different?"

Bucky's desperate kiss would have knocked the air out of a lesser person, but Steve just stands firm, knowing that's what his friend needs right now. He needs a rock, and Steve wants to be that for him. He rides out the kiss, letting Bucky get out what he needs to get out, sensing somehow that what Bucky needs right now is closeness.

"What are you sorry for? None of this is your fault. It's the fault of the people who took you and screwed with you." He resolutely ignores the stab of guilt that he feels when he says those words. He should've stopped this, should have tried harder to find him. But that's not important right now. What's important is being there and bringing his friend back to reality.

"You haven't ruined anything. Got that? We both know we've got our skeletons in the closets and our demons too." Boy, don't they ever know that. "They're going to show up now and then, and when they do, we're just going to push them right back where they came from." He reaches down to grab Bucky's hands and squeeze them as tight as he can; not tight enough to hurt him, but enough to let him know he's right there with him and he's not letting him go.

"I don't know, and honestly, it doesn't matter. What matters is that we're going to get through it together. The same way we've always done everything." Steve's tone is resolute, and determination is written on every line of his face.

The next kiss is far more gentle. Bucky leans into it with a small sob of desperation. He needs Steve right now. And it's a comfort in of itself to know that he can lean into his best friend and trust him to catch him before he crashes to the ground.

"I love you." He whispers it against Steve's lips and kisses against them to lock it in. "I love you so much. I can't do this without you. I wouldn't even want to try." He exhales lightly and grabs Steve's pants to start leading him back towards the bed. They'd been interrupted, but that didn't mean Bucky wanted to stop. Just that they'd need to be careful, this time. Sex, after all, was a great distraction.

"C'mere, punk." He smiles as he pulls Steve forward, encouraging him into his lap as he sits on the end of the bed. He's still gentle, stroking the back of his fingers up and down the side of his face and neck. "I...Don't want to let those skeletons and ghosts get the better of me. Alright? I don't want them to take away our evening."

He kisses a line from the point of Steve's chin, all the way down to his collarbone.

"We just...need to take things slower. Alright? I still want to. I want to more, now. Just...you stay on top and. Slow, alright? Just... slow."

That sob breaks something inside Steve. Bucky's been through hell, and for whatever reason, that hell just doesn't want to let up. All he can do is ride out the storm with him, and he means to, for however long it takes.

"Well, you'll never have to, 'cause I'm not going anywhere." Steve laughs a little when Bucky latches onto his pants. He knows he'd follow the other man anywhere, including into hell itself. This, however, is not hell; it's more like heaven for just the two of them.

"Don't have to tell me twice." He balances himself carefully on Bucky's lap, eyes trained on the other man and drinking every inch of him in. "They won't, not while I'm around. And not while you're around either. Because you're stronger than them, and you'll give them a hell of a fight." He can state that with confidence, because he knows what Bucky's capable of. No nightmare is going to knock him down for good.

"I can do slower. I kind of prefer it, actually." He's never really admitted that so freely before, but with Bucky, there's never any judgment, just understanding and maybe a side dish of mild amusement.

Steve believes in him with a force Bucky's never been able to understand. It's the same sort of fire he'd seen in churches from everyone except for him. This sort of soul-deep faith that can't be shaken and can't be broken. It's a part of these people and this is a part of Steve. Bucky loves every single atom of this man, but it's moments like this that make him feel, impossibly, like he loves him even more.

"You prefer it, huh? How come I've never heard about this?" Bucky is smiling though as he says it. "How about you show me the way you like it, sweetheart? Put you in the driver's seat, Captain." He winks a little but is already leaning in for another kiss before he can tease too badly.

His hands wrap around Steve's waist and pull him closer, his own body pushing forward to meet it. The skin contact is always his favorite part. That and any sounds he can pull out of his friend cum lover, showing him proof positive of how much he enjoys this.

"I'd do anything for you, baby," he purrs against Steve's jaw with terrifying sincerity. "As long as you're with me I can do anything. But I want to do all of it for you. You're the best part of me, Steve..."

He believes in Bucky because Bucky's always believed in him. Actually, even if Bucky didn't believe in him, Steve would probably still believe in the other man. Bucky's his best friend, and he was always the man Steve idolized. Sure, he knew exactly who he was, and before he ever knew the serum was an option, he just wanted to right wrongs however he could and stick up for the little guy.

Which is highly ironic because back then, he was the little guy.

Still, he wanted to be more like Bucky, popular and charming and well-liked, but he also wanted to be the guy who didn't tolerate bullying. Now, he just wants to help Bucky get back onto solid ground. "Huh, I thought you knew, Buck. Guess it never came up." He tips a wink in return even as he reaches out for Bucky as well.

Steve's head tips back slightly when Bucky pulls him in; the skin contact is his favorite part as well, and the sensation of having Bucky so close to him sends little shock waves pulsing through him. A low moan of satisfaction and sheer want escapes Steve's lips, but his eyes are locked on the other man's as he speaks.

"Anything, Buck?" His mouth turns up into a teasing, almost questioning sort of smile. "As long as we're together, we can do anything. And I want to do it all with you." Because it's always been the Bucky and Steve show, and that's never going to change.

Bucky shuts Steve up with a hard kiss. Any more talking like this and they're going to have to take a break while Bucky just holds his lover close and breathes in his skin, overwhelmed by the depth of what he feels. What he's always felt.

It's terrifying how much he loves this man. He'd tear the world apart for him and wouldn't think twice about it. He'd run through anyone who got in his way and, if he lost him, he'd take the world down burning alongside.

He can't focus on that. Not right now. All he can do is open his mouth and devour Steve one kiss at a time. Instinct tells him to turn them over and pin him into the mattress, but Bucky still can feel the panic that had caused him. So instead he just starts laying back, pulling Steve along to blanket him. They're still half off the bed, Bucky's feet dangling off, but it's already an improvement on before. When he breaks the kiss, he's looking up at Steve, feeling the press of his body over every inch of contact.

"I love you," he says softly. "I love you so much, Stevie. I'll give you anything in the world that you want."

And that's it. That's all he can manage. The one hand that has nails scratches lightly against Steve's back to encourage him. The other one is pulling him back down and into a kiss that's half affection and half burning heat.

Anything Steve's about to say is cut off by Bucky's kiss, and honestly, he's not complaining. This feels right, and in so many ways, it's everything Steve's ever wanted, and then some. It wasn't always that way, but time and circumstances have a funny way of changing things, and now Bucky is everything to him.

He's content to just follow along with Bucky's lead, doing his best to give him what he wants, while not pushing too hard. The last thing either of them need is a repeat occurrence of what's already happened. They can go slowly, take things easy; it's just enough that he has Bucky with him at all.

"You know how I feel about you. You're- well, "the world" sounds a little dramatic, but it's close enough." Actually, nothing would ever be close enough to describe how he feels about the other man, but he's confident that Bucky knows just how important he is to him.

Steve's back arches in response to those nails against his skin, and a whine of approval escapes him. He presses his lips firmly against Bucky's, pouring all his wants and needs and affection into the kiss.

Bucky smiles at that, stroking his fingertips through Steve's hair as their kiss continues and deepens more with each passing second. The arousal he'd lost in his panic is returning now. Slower, but clear and insistent, pushing up and into Steve where their bodies touch. His hips jerk lightly, seeking friction where he can find it. Remembering the reaction from before, Bucky uses his nails against Steve's back, scratching four more red lines.

"My world," he echoes, nuzzling back for another kiss to punctuate it. "Look at us. Two old saps. Gonna give everyone cavities around us." But he's smiling and clearly doesn't care. How could he? Bucky nips at Steve's bottom lip and pushes him back for just a moment as his hands start pushing off his bottoms.

"I wanna take this slow with you," he says. "I wanna see how you like it when I drive you insane. Let you ride me nice and easy. Feel you lose it around me." Bucky still has the memory of his panic in the back of his mind but it's quickly getting replaced by this new mission of letting his lover drive their moment however he wants to. It's just what he needs, now. Probably what they both need.

Steve's head tips backwards by a few inches, clearly deriving pleasure from Bucky's ministrations. It doesn't even matter that he might have nail marks on his back later on; he just needs Bucky there, touching him and pressing against him and being with him.

"I don't see anyone else around here, do you? No one to get cavities except ourselves." He chuckles quietly though, amused by the thought.

"Basically you just want to tease me. Because you know I do get insane around you." In the best sense, of course. He wants Bucky, but Bucky knows how to withhold just enough to get Steve aroused and wanting more. "But yeah, taking it slow sounds good." And it's with that thought in mind that Steve starts slowly grinding his hips against Bucky.

Bucky's job is to get them both completely naked. It's only then that he drags Steve back down and kisses him hard. He answers the grind with one of his own and lets out a small shudder when their erections line up and drag silken steel against one another. His hands grip Steve's ass, pulling him closer, panting against his mouth as he holds him close for a few blissful hip rolls.

"Think you can slide down, real slow? Inch by inch until I'm inside you?" The next kiss is bruising, one hand cradling the back of Steve's head, the other still holding their lower bodies flush. He can feel Steve's pulse there and it makes him want to just devour him.

"How long can you last? You in the driver's seat, taking me however you want the whole time. Think you can manage to keep it slow? Those last few moments, wanting to just ride me hard but keeping it steady. Coming hard like an exhale instead of a scream."

Steve can feel the bruising on his lips, but he doesn't even care. He wants Bucky kissing him, inside him, any every other way possible. In response to Bucky's question, he does as asked, sliding down one inch at a time. "I think I can manage that, Buck." He murmurs those words against Bucky's face, not wanting to lose the moment with too much talking.

There's no ignoring the fact that Bucky's voice is something of a turn-on for Steve, but it's all about finding the right balance between action and talking. "I don't know, but something tells me it won't be long." He can already feel the beads of sweat of anticipation forming and rolling down the back of his neck. "I want you. I need you inside me."

There's a pause as he locks eyes with his friend. "Please, Bucky, I need you." He knows he doesn't have to ever beg for anything, but the desire is becoming too much. It's becoming a fire that's threatening to consume him, and the only one who can save him is the man pressed against him.

Bucky groans as Steve moves and hisses soft as he can feel the tip of himself start pushing into his lover. When Steve begs him, there's no more gorgeous sound in the world. Bucky pulls Steve up and blindly reaches around for the lubrication they'd been using before things went south. He applies just a little more, knowing they're going to need every drop of it. And it's then that he grips Steve's hips and starts to inch himself inside.

"Baby, you feel so fucking good..." Bucky gasps as he slides in. As he assists with the slow drop of that first penetration. They've done this before. Many times before. But each time is just like the first. Bucky can almost close his eyes and remember that nerve-wracking first night. They know each other's bodies so well, now. But even then he'd pushed in and everything had just been right.

"Wait here, sweetheart," he urges, once he's fully sheathed. He needs to just breathe through this. Feel the connection between them that only gets more and more powerful with time. "God...God I love you," he purrs, pulling him in for a short peck on the lips. "Okay. Alright. You got the reins, baby. Go for it."

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