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He’s home late. No later than usual, but late all the same. For about three hours, the only light in your apartment has been coming from the TV. For even longer, you’ve been doing all but nothing, shuffling around and picking things up, glancing at the door in the hopes that it will open, and Bucky will walk through.
You know he’s never gone longer than he has to be. He tells you all the time, that he’d always rather be home with you than anywhere else.
It doesn’t stop you missing him. From bunching up the blankets until they’re in a Bucky-Shape, using his body wash and wearing his shirt to pretend he’s a little closer than reality.
But he always does come home. Past midnight, but home.
And you’re always waiting up for him, no matter how many times he tells you not to.
Bucky calls your name as he opens the door, and you can hear his exhaustion in his voice.
“In the living room!” You call back, and he groans.
“You should be in bed, doll-“
“Then why’d you call for me?”
There’s a brief silence, and you can picture his adorable, grumpy frown. “Shut it. It’s almost one in the morning-“
“You’re up.”
He sighs, moving around somewhere down the hallway. “‘M sorry, sweetheart, we had to run the debrief-“
“I know, Buck. It’s okay,” you call back, glancing to the doorway. “You need stitches?”
“No.” He materialize from the dark, shuffling across the room and flopping over your body, his words muffled as he presses his face into your chest. “Already had ‘em.”
You scowl, slapping his back lightly. “That’s not funny, James-“
“It’s funny.” His arms wrap around you, not moving from where he’s sprawled over your body. “What’re we watchin’.”
“The news.”
He groans. “That’s so fuckin’ boring-“
You shrug, letting your fingers glide up to play with his hair. “I wanted to know if you were safe.”
Bucky pauses, turning his head to give you a sad, open look. It’s an expression he only reserves for you. Where you’re allowed to see all the heavy weight on his shoulders, the adoration he has for you pained on every feature, and the gaze of a tired man that never feels like he’s doing enough.
He always is.
But no matter how many times you tell him that, he doesn’t believe it. You’ll keep saying it until he does. Just like he’ll keep trying to alleviate your fears until you stop worrying.
“You know I always come back to you, doll.” He murmurs, taking his hand in yours, and you give him a small smile.
“I do.” You cup his face, keeping your words soft. “But I love you, James. I’m going to keep worrying.”
He sighs. “Can’t talk you into goin’ to bed, can I?”
“Maybe you can.” You shrug. “Are you going to bed with me?”
Bucky opens his mouth and you slam a hand over it.
“I- Sorry- Did you eat.”
He raises his brows, but shakes his head and you sigh.
“James-“
“I was trying to get back to my best girl.” He grumbles, prying your hand away. “We’ll do pancakes in the morning-“
“Or you can have the Chinese I got you, now.”
Bucky blinks at you. “You got me Chinese?”
You nod, and try to push to your feet. “Lemme go- Bucky-“
He’s on his feet faster than you ever could be, keeping you pinned to the couch as he leans down and presses a deep, slow kiss over your lips. You melt into the cushion, your hands darting up to hold his face, and he smiles against your lips.
“I’ll get it, babydoll.” He mutters, pressing a smaller kiss to your nose. “But you gotta go to bed-“
“I’ll go to bed when you go to bed.”
Bucky leans back to glare at you, but you just smile right back. That glare doesn’t work on you anymore. You might be the only person in the world who can win a starting contest with Sargent Grumpy, and he knows it, because he gives up with a sigh.
“Just-“ Bucky sighs, tracing metal fingers carefully over your cheekbones. “Don’t fight it, if you get tired. Alright?”
“Alright.” You whisper, giving him a small smile. “Go eat, Buck.”
He grunts, pressing a final, firm kiss to the top of your head, and ambles out of the living room.
It’s only a few minutes that he’s gone, but you shuffle restlessly all the same. The smell of him is so much stronger than the shirt or the shampoo. His warmth is so much heavier, and more comfortable, than the blanket. And you’ve been aching for him all night, enough that you’ll probably climb or ride him first thing in the morning, but you can settle for just contact tonight. Only his body pressed over yours, and his face planted back against your breasts. He’s tired. You care about him resting far more than you care about him flipping you onto your stomach and kissing up your spine, maybe massaging his hands on your thighs or swatting at your ass-
“I love you,” he grumbles your name as he returns, Chinese food in hand, and flops back over your body. “’S unbelievable, how much I love you. You gotta know that, doll. I’d so anything for you. Steal the moon, give you a thousand babies.”
You smile at him, tucking yourself into his side as he grabs the remote and switches off of the news. “You like the dumplings?”
“I like you.” He kisses the side of your head, and when you give him an amused look, he shrugs. “And the dumplings. They’re my favorite, doll. Thank you.”
“I know.” You hum, not bothering to look away from Bucky as he eats. He’s yours. You can stare at him—at the sharp line of his jaw and fullness of his lips—all you want. “A thousand babies is a lot.”
He swallows his bite, giving you a tiny grin. “Then we’ll start with just me fuckin’ one into you, and see where it goes.”
You make an incoherent, sleepy sound and Bucky chuckles, tugging you a little closer to his side. He’s taunting you. It’s too late in the evening for you to just straddle him and grind in his lap until he gives you all the attention you need. Rest. Tonight is about letting Bucky hold you against him and eat his Chinese food, grumbling at the TV whenever a character makes a stupid choice and getting high on his chuckles whenever you make a joke.
It would be nice if he could pretend this was all about him. If he didn’t keep feeding you some of his food, and rubbing circles on your arm that prickle heat over your skin. If every time he kissed you, he didn’t do it a whole lot deeper than he needed to, before biting the tips of your nose and laughing when you whack his chest. Looking so handsome in relaxes in the dark, the tired expression he had when he came through the door long gone.
Maybe you could touch him. He’s tugged you so you’re straddling his thigh, but that doesn’t mean this needs to be about you. You can feel his semi hard cock, pressed on your inner thigh. If you lean down and take him in your mouth, it can be about Bucky and not you-
“Bed?” He asks suddenly, and you’re not sure how long you’ve been staring at him in the dark. Given the openly amused expression on his face, probably longer than you want to admit.
You tilt your head at him. “Are you going to bed?”
He shrugs, your eyes narrow, and you slide a leg over his stomach.
Bucky groans, his hands flying to your hips. “C’mon doll, go to bed-“
“I need you there with me.” You hum, bracing your hands on his shoulders, and he sighs.
“I can’t sleep,” he mutters, dropping his brow to yours. “Long mission. And you know I’m not supposed to get in bed ‘less I’m gonna sleep.”
Fuck, that’s true. Some sleep psychology thing Sam made him go to last year, that you’d told all the New Avengers about so they could reinforce it when he was on overnight missions. Unless Bucky knows he’ll fall asleep, he can’t be in bed. Not if he’s going to stop sleeping on the floor for good.
But he can’t just stay up. The heaviness might be gone, but you can still see the bags under his eyes. And you’re tired yourself, and you won’t be able to sleep without him, but he’ll beat himself up if you sleep on the couch just to be near him.
So there are two options here. The first one is the meds—strong enough to knock out an elephant, and capable of making Bucky sleepy—and the second one is making him relax.
The second one is the better option.
Because then it’s not about you.
You trail your hand slowly down his chest, holding his gaze as you move. He has time to tell you no. That he’s too tired for what you’re obviously aiming for.
But Bucky’s eyes just remain on yours, his lips parting slightly as you rub his bulge through his pants, and his eyes darkening with an expression you know far too well.
Lust.
He mutters your name as you slowly undo his belt, hand flying up to cup your cheek. “You don’t have to-“
“Want to.” You pull his pants down, taking his underwear with them, and start to stroke Bucky’s cock to attention. “Please?”
He blinks at you slowly, a low groan escaping his throat as you lean down to kiss along his jaw. “You’re askin’ me to jerk me off?”
You hum. “And give you head.”
He grunts, his hips jerking at just the suggestion and you smile. “That’s not playing fair, doll-“
“Not trying to play fair.” You lean back, your smile growing at his hooded, ruined expression. “May I?”
His eyes flick down to where you’re slowly pumping him, your thumb rubbing over the tip of his cock, and he grunts. “Yeah. Fuckin’- Have to be insane to say no-“
You crash down, giving him a deep, comfortable kiss and giggling when he groans your name down your throat, his hands skimming feather-like touched up your side as you pick up your pace.
“Off.” He grunts, tugging at your shirt—his shirt—and you moan as his metal fingers start to roll your nipples with an expert precision. “Gotta see you, sweetheart.”
You lean back to undress, and take the opportunity to readjust entirely. Sliding off of Bucky’s lap to angle yourself to the side, helping him all the way out of his pants before-
“Shit-“ Bucky hisses your name as you take him in your mouth, his hand fisting carefully in your hair. “Jesus, warn me-“
You hum, pausing to look at him under your lashes, his cock still heavy on your tongue, and he groans.
“Don’t stop- Fuck-“
His hips buck up again as you swirl your tongue around the head of him, one hand still stroking the base of his cock as the other braces you up, and you let out a lewd, muffled moan as he bumps the back of your throat.
“Shit- Sorry, sweetheart- Christ-“
It didn’t bother you. If this wasn’t about Bucky relaxing, you would’ve guided him to just start fucking your face. But you’re doing all the work tonight, so you just hollow your cheeks, relax your jaw, and start to bob up and down. Making him bully your throat and shifting your hand to play with his balls, moaning around him whenever he jerks on your tongue and sucking him off like you’ve been starved.
But Bucky never gets the memo that this is supposed to be about him. Because suddenly, when you’re licking a strong line up his shaft before dropping down and choking on him, you feel a warm hand massaging your ass and teasing over your panties, right on-
You pull off of him with a sharp gasp as Bucky rubs your clit, and he just chuckles, running your hair between his fingers.
“Bucky-“
“C’mon, babydoll.” He drawls, tugging your hair until you’re looking up at him. “Can’t take it as good as you give it.”
You blink at him, almost falling forward as he leaves a light slap on your ass, your hand still mindlessly playing with his balls squeezing slightly.
Bucky hisses, landing another hit before rubbing his finger back over your clothed pussy. “Play nice, sweetheart.”
You moan, slumping into his body as he slowly pulls your panties to the side, teasing his fingers over your bare, soaking slit.
“Thought you wanted to suck me off, doll?” Bucky teases, and you twist to bury your burning face in his stomach. “Begged me for it, too.”
“Buck,” you whisper, wiggling your ass in the air and whining when you get another light slap. “I need it, please-“
“I know you do, gorgeous.” He tugs your hair again, making you pull back from hiding. “Keep that perfect mouth on my cock and I’ll take care of you.”
You nod mindlessly, wrapping your lips back over his dick, and you’re immediately rewarded with Bucky’s fingers sliding into your cunt.
And he didn’t lie. He never lies to you.
You keep him in your mouth, sucking and moaning around him as he slowly fucks you with his fingers, and you might cum from just his voice. Drawling praise above you and moaning whenever you swallow around him, hisses your name whenever your tongue swirls around him, and-
“There you go,” he hums, his free hand still tangled in your hair as his hips start to jerk up, and you whine around him. “So fuckin’ wet for me, look so pretty when you’re takin’ me like a good girl, gonna fuck you ‘till you can’t walk-“
You moan at the promise, grinding up into the air, and Bucky chuckles.
“Like that, babydoll? Want me to stuff you full of my cock, let me fuck you stupid and sweet-“
He’s starting to slur his words, and you can taste the pre-cum, falling out of your lips with your drool. He’s close. It lights an extra fire in you, and you start to suck him off like there’s no tomorrow. Bucky moans, loud and echoing through the dark, and his fingers in your pussy falter for only a second before his efforts double. His hand twists so he can scissor his fingers in your cunt, his thumb finding your clit and starting to rub rapid, mind-numbing circles.
The coil in your gut snaps right as Bucky presses his thumb down, and you squeeze his fingers as he pumps you through your orgasm. It seems to spark his own release, because a groan of your name and slightly tug of your hair up is the only warning you get before Bucky’s cum shoots right into your throat. You try to swallow, but his fingers are crooking and rubbing on that spot deep inside of you, and you can feel a second orgasm rising up.
The dam breaks right as he yanks you fully off his cock, tugging you up into a wet, hot kiss and biting on your lower lip. You scream his name as you squirt over his hand, and he groans, already half-hard cock pressing against your stomach as you grind down onto his hand.
You shudder in his arms, a weak whine leaving your throat as his fingers pull out, and there’s a second where you both just stare at each other in the dark. You’re still aching, and the serum means he can go all night, and he did say he’d fuck you.
He tips your head back slightly, pressing those same fingers that were just inside you on your lower lips. You hold his gaze as you take them in your mouth, sucking them with just as much fervor as you gave his cock, and he groans.
“You got more in you,” he mutters your name, voice dripping with lust, and you nod frantically. “Wanna-“
“Bed.” You whisper, pulling back with a pleading look. “Or just here-“
Your words die in a yelp as Bucky stands, keeping you steady in his arms, and marches you right to your room. He kisses you as he stops at the foot of the bed, never breaking it as he lowers you both down to the mattress. The only half second, he pulls away is to pull his shirt off his head and toss in into a corner, before raising your legs up to help you out of your panties.
He groans at the sight of the mess between your legs, stroking his cock as he kisses on your calf, and lowers your leg down back down to the bed. “So pretty, babydoll. Gonna fuck you so good, promise.”
You don’t get a chance to respond before he’s falling back over you, capturing your mouth in a rough kiss before slowly guiding himself into your pussy. He moans as you flutter around him, leaning back to scan over your face for any discomfort, and you give him is a tiny nod and roll of your hips.
“More.” You gasp, fingers curling on his chest. “More, Bucky-“
He groans, kissing the words out of your mouth, and start to roll his hips, fucking you lazily. Slowly.
But he picks up the pace. You don’t have to beg or whine for him, Bucky always picks up his pace. Starting with hungrier, deeper kisses and tiny love-bites, before becoming a careful but firm grip on your hips, angling them up to give himself a better angle.
Then you moan his name, and he slams against that deep spot only he can ever reach. Your back arches off the bed with a gasp, Bucky groans your name as you flutter around his cock, and the speed picks up. The bed creaking under him as he fucks you, really properly fucks you, and you’re flying out of your skin as he groans against your throat, his mouth diving down to wrap around a nipple and sucking. You yank on his hair when his tongue does that maddening swirl and flick, and he start to groan, the sound vibrating thorough your body.
You cum together. Bucky’s lips press right over yours as he pulls out one last time, slams in with a groan, and you come apart in his arms. Your head spins with pleasure as he cums inside of you, kissing all over your face and rubbing his hands in slow circles on your hips as he lets you ease back down.
“Shower?” He grunts in your ear, and you nod, your hands rubbing over his back.
It glides by so easily, in the soft, comfortable bliss of Bucky’s presence. He helps you to the bathroom so you can pee, turning on the shower and waiting for you to be ready before guiding you into the warm water. By the time you’re both clean the mist has gotten to your head, and sleep is tugging at your eyes. You’d fight it, if you couldn’t feel Bucky humming as he washes your hair. You try to return the favor, but he just keeps you pinned against his chest, kissing over your neck.
He climbs into bed with you, after helping you dry off. Wrapped around you and out before you can even really register it. He’s a silent sleeper, but you know the difference. He’s relaxed, draped over you, and breathing deeply as you start to drift off.
Home.
He always comes home.