Chapter Text
1.
It hasn't been dark for very long, thirty minutes at most. That’s when the bedside lamp clicked off and the flicker of the television screen ended with a complete lack of flourish. It's expected now. Bucky’s heart pounds with it. Anticipation for the first touch after the long day of respective school involvement. Because as much fun as it is dating an academic, finals tend to soften a lover’s woody.
The problem is, the touch never comes. Bucky waits, building it up in his head. Knees pressed together with yearning for the man whose heat comes off of him in waves. Just a brush of fingers or a grind of hips into his ass cheeks. But it never comes. The longer he waits the harder he gets without ever being touched. The mere memories of previous semesters flood his mind and he doesn't even notice when the bed shifts behind him.
“You know,” Steve begins, damn near a pur if Steve Roger’s fucking purred. Which he doesn't. Fuck. “You’re kind of just canting your hips back and forth into thin air.” As he says the words his hand takes Bucky’s right, palm presses against palm. Holding Bucky’s hand still at his hip. “At first I thought you’d given up waiting, that you were taking care of yourself,” Steve slides in close to Bucky now, body pressing along the back of his. “But then I realized you hadn't touched yourself. You were just so turned on -” Steve’s tone has shifted to something of a growl and Bucky grinds back into him. He can feel Steve’s cock sliding back and forth against his crack through the few layers of their clothing. Blunt and sure.
“Uun,” Bucky forces out eloquently. Steve chuckles. He still hasn't touched him. Bastard.
With another grind Steve grunts low in his ear, “Tell me what you were thinking about?”
In that instant Bucky realizes that Steve was already hard as a rock by the time he pressed against Bucky. Oh. Oh.
Bucky cants his hips back into Steve’s one last time before using every ounce of strength he has to pull away. “Gonna show you,” he mumbles, spinning to face Steve and grabbing the other man’s right hip to encourage him to lay on his stomach. Steve complies, letting out an involuntary whine as his still covered cock connects with the mattress. He rocks his hips forward once before forcing himself to still.
“Buck,” Steve pleads. Pleads. Ah fuck. Bucky’s between Steve’s thighs a moment later, fingers pulling down the waistband only enough to expose his ass before sinking into round ass cheeks as he spreads them apart. Steve grinds into the mattress fully when Bucky licks at his hole just after that. “My God,” Steve exclaims. Bucky wishes he could stick a hand into his own boxers when Steve pushes back onto his tongue. “More.”
Of course Bucky doesn't have to be asked twice, giving Steve more of his tongue as he inches his fingers closers and closer. Steve feels the movement and groans. “Fuck this,” Bucky says against Steve’s ass crack, the vibration and immediate retreat of Bucky causing Steve to keen.
Bucky is back in moments, fingers slick as he snaps the cap back on a tube. Steve’s preparation isn't careful. It’s quick and dirty, exactly how he likes it. After sliding on the condom, while pushing into him, Bucky idly wonders how long it took Steve to develope that preference. Years? Or has he always been like that?
Steve angles his hips backward. “Buck,” because Bucky didn't start moving as soon as he was inside Steve and that’s what he likes.
The rhythm picks up quickly, Steve driving back into Bucky like he wants to feel him for days afterward. When Steve says as much Bucky growls and bites Steve at the junction of his neck and shoulder. Steve moans long and deep, reaching back to dig his fingernails into Bucky’s hip.
“Oh fuck Steve,” Bucky shudders suddenly, that last bit of stimulation too much. He reaches around and slips a hand into the boxers still clung around Steve’s hips. His fingers close around Steve’s cock and with a grunt he pulls Steve over the edge with him.
Panting heavily the two lay there for a few moments, listening to the silence of the room. Finally Bucky grabs the top of the condom and pulls out of Steve, rolling onto his back and grabbing some tissue off the nightstand to put the condom in before he tosses it in the trash.
Steve’s out of bed just after that, heading for the bathroom in the dark. You’d think sleeping with lube up your ass would be incredibly comfortable. Bucky chuckles to himself at his own joke.
“What do you have in the morning?” Steve calls from the bathroom after the light flips on.
Pausing to shield himself from the light Bucky says, “Russian?”
Steve’s taken out his contacts and has his glasses on when he emerges from the bathroom. Bucky only sees it for a moment before Steve turns the bathroom light back off. “You finished your project?” he asks.
Bucky shrugs. “Mostly. Just need to smooth out the body. We have the written portion of the final tomorrow and then I’m getting together with Nat afterward to finish the presentation.” His eyes are already adjusting to the darkness and fixed on Steve’s face. More specifically the thick black frames he only wears to bed at night or when he gets up in the morning because he is blind as a bat.
Dropping down onto the bed, Steve sighs. It’s long suffered and entirely whimsical. “I suppose that means you haven't suddenly graduated?” he asks.
Bucky shakes his head slowly. “‘Fraid not, professor,” he says with a wink, grabbing at Steve’s arm to tug him closer. “Still a year left to go.” Steve knows that. They’ve had this conversation countless times over the last two years. At various volumes.
The argument is always the same. Steve says splitting up is not an option. Not for him. He says Bucky can do whatever he thinks is best. Hell, he can turn Steve in if that’s what he wants. Steve won't blame him. But on Steve’s end, he’ll take the risk.
“What do you have tomorrow?” Bucky asks in return, settling against the older man’s side.
Steve doesn't hesitate. “Political Ramifications in Post-War Ireland,” he says.
“That doesn't sound too boring,” Bucky comments, because even saying the name of the course Steve looks like he’s about to gouge out his eyes from their sockets.
“It’s not,” Steve says. “It’s two of the students. They drive me up the wall. And there are six of them, only so much I can avoid. Writing the test was bad enough, but I’m going to spend two hours answering ridiculously inane questions.” As frustrated as Steve sounds, they both know he’ll sit there and answer every inane question with a genuine smile on his face.
Bucky nods slowly, attempting to wrap his head around this predicament. After a moment's thought his lips stretch into a grin. “I'll make you a deal,” he says.
Immediately Steve looks intrigued.
“If you make it to the end of the week without setting any of your students on fire and I make it through taking my own finals unscathed, we’ll celebrate by getting really naked,” Bucky proposes quickly.
Steve barks out a laugh before offering his hand. “Deal.” The deal sealed with a shake, Steve takes his glasses off and sets them on the nightstand. He settles behind Bucky, arm draped over the younger man’s midsection.
Bucky’s skin is humming in anticipation of their week, the time they’ll spend on opposite sides of campus. But Steve’s warm weight brings him down quickly. Right, Bucky gets to climb in bed with this every night. It’s that thought, always that thought, that lulls Bucky to sleep.