good old-fashioned lover boy

[semi_stable]

The last thing that Bucky remembers with any clarity is the harsh burn of cheap whiskey in his throat as Steve walked away from him after another failed double date. Trying to set Steve up with girls made him feel a bit like Sisyphus pushing a boulder up a mountain, like he's a little insane, trying the same thing over and over again and hoping for different results.

He'd tried again, and really thought he had something this time. Brenda was a small bookish girl, with glasses and a bouncy red ponytail, and her friend Claire was known for being, well-- money spent buying her drinks wasn't going to go to waste, from what he's heard. Bucky had charmed them both into coming to the dance hall and then drug Steve along with a strong arm around his shoulders, like he had so many times before, but it didn't matter.

Steve's lack of confidence when it came to women was all too apparent, especially to the girls that Bucky tried to set him up with, and he always threw in the towel before anything could ever happen. For some reason, Bucky kept trying. He was Sisyphus and Steve's virginity was that fucking boulder.

Bucky would take it himself, except that wasn't an option. It wouldn't ever be an option, despite what his traitorous imagination got up to.

So, Steve left and Bucky drank. He danced with Brenda and with Claire, then drank some more. And then more, because he's twenty years old and what was left of his meager paycheck wass burning a hole in his pocket, and he doesn't have any damn sense yet.


That led to the present moment-- Bucky waking up in a very comfortable bed with a dull ache in his head and a mouth full of cotton. He groans and rolls away from the sunlight filtering in through the curtains, curling up under the covers to ward off the chill. He stays like that for a few moments until his eyes pop open and he pushes himself up onto his elbow, scanning the unfamiliar bedroom. It looks like something out of picture show, all plush velvet and gold accents, and Bucky frowns. As far as he knew, Brenda and Claire were working class like him. He'd picked them up at a brownstone just down the street, as modest and plain as his own home.

The bedding is plush and soft, and Bucky lifts the duvet to confirm that he at least has underwear on. It wouldn't be the first time that he's woken up somewhere strange after a rough night, but never somewhere like this. A glance next to him tells him that he didn't sleep in the bed alone, given the rumpled bedding and the dented pillow. He reaches out to put his hand on the sheets, finding them still warm, and then lifts his head when he hears approaching footsteps.

Morning afters are always kind of awkward and Bucky sighs, reaching up to scrub his hands over his face.

"Here we go."

Comments

[semi_stable]

Loki laughs and Bucky finds himself reeled in by his vibrancy. He's so full of life, and of character, and Bucky finds it hard to look away. He never thought that he would feel anything other than temporary lust for a man who wasn't Steve Rogers, but his very strange time spent in the company of Loki has upended that. He is absolutely enamored and has to keep stopping himself from reaching out to touch him, going so far as to tuck his hand under his elbow as he reaches up to take a sip of his wine.

"I never thought that my family could look like this," he admits, swallowing hard as he looks at Loki, eyes wide and shining. "But I'm not complaining."

[thewrongpath]

"Neither did I," Loki admitted, his smile softening. "Honestly, I'd never given it much thought."

Countless dalliances over the course of a thousand years, but nothing real. Not until her. Not until him. Not until the possibility of the two of them, really.

"It's funny how quickly things can change."

[semi_stable]

They stare at each other like idiots for a good long while and Bucky feels-- well, Bucky feels pretty much everything, but there's a want that's buzzing under his skin and it's louder than everything else. Still, he's too nervous to step forward and close the minimal distance between them, and that's new for him.

"Loki," he finally says after another brief stretch of silence, cheeks flushing in the low light as he smiles almost bashfully. "Are you really going to make me ask you to kiss me?"

[thewrongpath]

Loki's brow arched.

"Well, yes. As a matter of fact, I am," he said, his frown faintly amused. "You're not the same man I knew, James. A version of him, yes, but I'm not going to make assumptions about what you want."

Turning to face him, he said, "The Bucky I know is very adamant about consent, you see. I can't forget that."

[semi_stable]

It’s a very thoughtful reply and Bucky goes quiet for a moment, staring hard at Loki’s face. Consent is important. He knows that even now, but there’s something in the way Loki says it that makes Bucky almost nervous, like there’s a question he doesn’t really want to know the answer to.

“Well, I suppose that I shouldn’t make assumptions either,” he finally says, swallowing hard and stepping back to lean against the railing, hands gripping the wood on either sides of his ass.

“I guess a better question would be if you even wanted to kiss me,” he admits sheepishly, ducking his head as he reaches up to rub at the back of his neck. “If it’s too weird— if you want to wait until I’m back to normal or whatever, that’d make sense.”

He feels a little embarrassed but he recognizes that it’s mostly due to his youth, and the fact that this territory is so uncharted that he doesn’t even have the map.

“I know you’re not mine. Not really,” he adds, and it’s a very funny thing to be a little jealous of another version of himself. “So maybe I’m overstepping. I just— I really wanted to know what it would feel like to be kissed by someone who looks at me the way you do.”

[thewrongpath]

Loki's smile warmed, his hands lifting to frame Bucky's face.

"Then all you had to do was ask," he said, leaning in to cover the other man's lips with his own. He kissed the other man slowly, thoroughly, giving Bucky time not only to change his mind but to truly feel it. To feel his love, but also the reverence and respect built over the years of their relationship, and why this wasn't something he would ever do lightly.

Once, he wouldn't have thought twice. But things change. He'd changed. They both had.

[semi_stable]

Loki steps in close and touches his face and Bucky’s breath catches, eyes widening slightly as Loki makes his intentions clear. He feels a wild flutter of nerves, and it’s something entirely different from anything he’s felt with the other men he’s kissed. Those weren’t good moments, really. There was an undeniable sense of shame, fear of getting caught, briefly swept aside by undeniable lust. But it was never this.

When Loki’s mouth meets his, it’s softer than he was expecting. It starts off gentle, even tender, and a small noise escapes Bucky before he has a chance to stop it. With men, it’s always been rough and quick, with kisses and eye contact something of a rarity, and Bucky thought that he was fine with that. He never entertained the possibility that it could be anything else.

But Loki is showing him otherwise, and eventually Bucky can make his hands work again, lifting one to Loki’s hip as the other grips the back of his neck almost desperately as he tilts his head for a better angle. They kiss until Bucky has to pull back just to breathe, chest heaving as he stares at Loki with awe in his expression. He lifts his hand from Loki’s hip to touch his face, trembling fingertips trailing along his reddened lips and over his chin.

He wants to say something, maybe express his gratitude or tell Loki how good it feels, how much he wants this, but he can’t find the words. Instead he leans in to close the distance between their mouths a little more firmly this time, whimpering softly as he puts his hand on Loki’s firm, masculine chest.

“I didn’t—“ He murmurs against Loki’s mouth between kisses, fingers twisting in the material of his shirt. Every other time he’s been with a man, it was like scratching an itch, or putting pressure on a wound. Staunching the bleeding so he could survive. This feels like a celebration— not surviving but living. “I didn’t know it could feel so good.”

[thewrongpath]

"We've only just started," Loki pointed out with a low chuckle, steering the other man towards the house. Gripping Bucky's arm, he nearly started when he met flesh instead of metal, the reality of what was happening even more real than before.

Just outside the doorway, Loki pulled back, a hand on Bucky's face. His face, free of lines, soft and new and years away from the wounds that would haunt him for a century. Beautiful, but not quite so beautiful as the man he knew.

He would never tell this boy that, of course. How could you hope to explain to a boy, with his whole life ahead of him, that his pain and his strength in spite of it, all the horrors he had yet to endure, was what made them the most lovable.

[semi_stable]

“Oh,” Bucky replies a little dazedly, staring at Loki as he’s moved towards the house, but then the reality of his words sink in and Bucky’s eyes widen slightly. “Oh.”

It’s almost embarrassing how so little can cause a stirring in his trousers, but he doesn’t think that he can be blamed. Loki is almost too beautiful to be real and he’s showering Bucky with the affection he’s always craved. He’s always wanted this, and with the way that Loki is touching him and meeting his gaze without hesitation or doubt, he can’t even be disappointed that it isn’t with the person he’d dreamt about.

This is better than any dream because it’s real. It’s happening to him right now, and Bucky feels like his heart might beat out of his chest.

“Okay, yeah,” Bucky says, grinning boyishly as Loki’s hand rests on his face. His own hands go out to glide down Loki’s sides, gripping his trim waist as he takes a step back into the bedroom. And then, perhaps boldly, he sticks his fingers into the waistband of Loki’s pants and walks backwards, tugging Loki forward and into the room with him.

[thewrongpath]

"Careful," he said, using a gentle nudge of magic to keep Alpine from dashing out the door. She ought to have been fine to explore, but it was safer to keep her in, and Bucky— his Bucky, tended to worry if she was out of sight for too long.

Sliding the door shut behind them, Loki laughed as Bucky tugged him impatiently into the room, and with a slight smirk, he behind opening the buttons at his collar, moving slowly down to tug his shirt free of his waistband. He could've done all this with magic, of course, but sometimes it was worth taking one's time.

[semi_stable]

Bucky had expected it to be frantic. That's how it always goes, a dizzying rush to climax before brusquely parting ways, but Loki slows down and looks him in the eye as he unbuttons his shirt. Bucky flushes and looks away almost on instinct, but then swallows hard and forces himself to meet Loki's heady gaze.

For a long moment all Bucky can do is stand there, struck dumb by the sight of Loki's chest as it's bared, stomach flexing as he tugs the shirt back off of his shoulders. Bucky lifts a hand, hesitates, and then steps forward to place it against the center of Loki's chest, sweeping down to his waistband and then around his hip, lips parted as he lets out a shuddering breath.

The lights are still on in the room and there is no denying what is about to happen, what Bucky wants to happen. Still, he's nervous and there's a slight tremble to his hand as he slides it up Loki's chest again, curling it around his shoulder and squeezing.

"This part usually gets skipped," Bucky admits, smiling ruefully and then leaning in, pausing with their lips almost brushing before closing the distance to kiss him again.

[thewrongpath]

"That's a shame," Loki murmured, his hands moving to strip Bucky of his shirt, now that he was rid of his own.

"Not to say that a bit of a tumble doesn't have it's appeal," Loki murmured, smiling against Bucky's lips. His hands drifted lower, his movements deliberate as he tugged open the button at Bucky's waistband. "But you're the type of man that one takes their time with."

[semi_stable]

Bucky lifts his arms to allow Loki to pull his shirt off, breath hitching as the other man crowds back in to kiss him and unfasten his jeans. Unsurprisingly, Bucky is already hard in his underwear and his cock twitches as Loki speaks in that low, beguiling voice of his, saying such nice things. It never occurred to Bucky that he might want something like that, to be sweet-talked, but now something has been awakened inside of him and it's entirely Loki's doing. He likes the tenderness, and he hopes with everything that he has that he remembers this once he goes back home, even if forgetting it might be a greater kindness. How is he supposed to move on from this?

"I'm not sure how to act," he admits with a breathless chuckle, cheeks pink as he leans down to mouth at the top of Loki's shoulder. There are freckles there and Bucky drags his tongue across a cluster of them. "But you probably want me to be myself."

He isn't sure what that looks like in this particular scenario, so he gives into the urge to reach down to open Loki's trousers, reaching inside to touch the thick bulge of him through his soft, silky underwear. Loki's cock twitches in his hand and he feels an answering ache between his legs, one that's unfamiliar and almost alarming in its intensity, and he moans quietly against Loki's ear.

"How does it usually go?" Bucky asks curiously, kissing along the side of Loki's neck and hoping he'll understand what he's really asking. He's never given that to anyone before, never turned onto his belly and opened his legs, but it feels like every part of him is aching for it now.

[thewrongpath]

"Don't overthink it, darling. You're free to do whatever you like. You'll get no judgement from me," Loki assured him, letting out a low, encouraging hum at the first graze of Bucky's palm.

"We're versatile," Loki said, smiling knowingly as he reached down to slip the elastic of Bucky's shorts down over his hips, letting them fall to his feet. "Adaptable."

Sliding gracefully to his knees, Loki gripped the younger man's hips in his broad hands, eyes on Bucky's face and his warm breath ghosting across his bare cock.

[semi_stable]

“Well, I’d like to do everything,” Bucky admits with a bashful laugh, swallowing hard as Loki’s strong hands curl and his hips, dipping into his underwear. He’s been with men before, but this feels very much like the first time. It is, in a way. He isn’t afraid, isn’t angry or ashamed at himself.

He’s nervous, but it’s the giddy sort of nerves. He’s excited and curious, and this is how it should be.

“Versitile,” Bucky repeats, brows lifting once he processing the meaning. His cock twitches at the thought of Loki behind him, pressing into him nice and slow, but then Loki is sinking to his knees in a move so sinuous and arousing that Bucky can hardly even think.

“Wow,” he breathes out, meeting Loki’s blue eyes. He reaches out a hand, hesitating before making contact with Loki, but then remembers that he doesn’t have to hold himself back. He smiles and puts his hand on the side of Loki’s face, tracing over his sharp cheekbone and then carding through his dark hair. “I’m not sure that I could have dreamed you up if I tried.”

[thewrongpath]

"That's heartening to hear. I can assure you, I'm very much real," Loki teased, long fingers curling around Bucky's cock and his lips parting around the flushed head. Eyes on Bucky's face, he swallowed him down slowly, stopping only when his nose brushed the younger man's pubic bone.

He swallowed, throat flexing around his length, then pulled off just as slowly.

Was he showing off? Of course he was.

[semi_stable]

Bucky has had men on his knees for him, but never like this. There's eye contact, for one. Loki doesn't look away when he takes Bucky's cock into his mouth and he can't seem to either. He sinks deep into Loki's mouth, and then impossibly deeper, and Bucky chokes out a surprised gasp as Loki swallows around him.

Loki pulls off just as smoothly and if Bucky had his wits about him, he might make a joke about how smug Loki looks. But right now, he thinks Loki has every reason to be just that. His knees feel a little like jelly and he sucks in a breath, fingers tangling in Loki's hair.

"Okay, point proven. You're a god," he pants out, grinning as he thumbs at the wet corner of Loki's mouth. He feels almost giddy, and it takes him a moment to place the dizzying feeling as something like relief. It's okay for him to just enjoy the moment, and for what might be the very first time, he doesn't feel any shame in it.

[thewrongpath]

His low, rumble of a laugh was nothing more than a vibration along Bucky's cock, though the confidence and pacing of his movements did not waver.

He had a point to make. Perhaps it was cruel to ruin him for all other men at such a tender age, but Loki could be alarming selfish. Besides, it was great fun, watching the increasing wonder on Bucky's face, and hearing the sounds that seemed to come from him unbidden.

Loki took him deep, over and over, setting a pace designed purely to bring him to the brink.

[semi_stable]

Loki makes it feel like it’s the first time that he ever got his dick sucked. Actually, with all due respect to Mary Atwater from high school, it’s so much better than the first time. It’s so much better than every single time, all of them combined, and Bucky tries to bite back his moaning until he realizes that he doesn’t have to.

They’re not crammed into the back of his car or hidden away somewhere semi-public. They don’t have to worry about getting caught, so Bucky lets out a loud, stuttering moan as his fingers twist in Loki’s soft hair. That feels like a release in and of itself, and once he opens his mouth and lets sound out, it’s hard to stop himself.

“That’s so fucking good,” he breathes out, lavishing Loki with praise. Loki is the one on his knees but Bucky feels like the one in worship, pupils blown and cheeks ruddy as he stares down at Loki’s red lips and hallowed cheeks. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.”

Bucky holds out for as long as he can, never wanting it to end, but soon enough his knees go dangerously weak and the pressure behind his navel grows and grows until he can’t fight back any longer.

“I’m close,” he says with a sharp inhale, tugging at Loki’s hair harder than he intends to. His stomach tenses and he shakes all over, holding back long enough for Loki to decide for himself what he wants to do because even now, while it feels like his brain is leaking out of his ears, he wants to be a gentleman.

Loki deserves that. Loki deserves the fucking world.