Chapter Text
When he first meets Bucky, Steve’s struck by his dark good looks, the wavy brunette hair that falls over his broad shoulders and frames his handsome face, the stubble covering his strong jawline, and long, lean legs that go on for days. The last thing Steve thought would happen when he booked this trip was meeting a gorgeous man in the wild. However, it seems that the stars are smiling on him. After a rough several months, maybe his luck is finally changing.
For the past year or so, Steve’s been struggling, battling anxiety and depression, and trying to get a handle on his life. His mom’s passing, getting mugged at gunpoint, losing a job, and trying to regulate his moods have left him feeling emotionally and physically fragile, as if he needs to be swaddled in bubble wrap to stay safe. Even the arms of his sometimes lover haven’t been enough to make him feel like himself. Now, as he looks at Bucky, he wonders if maybe there’s a specific reason why.
Steve decided to book this trip west when the money from his mother’s estate cleared. He’s been struggling to find himself after so many consecutive kicks in the gut, and he knows losing himself in nature is one way to regain his center. Besides, there are plenty of organizations who offer opportunities to volunteer, which he’s done a few times since leaving Brooklyn. Now, though, it’s time to watch the sunset over the lip of a natural wonder. All he has to do is get the key to his cabin from Bucky, the property manager, and enjoy a few days alone.
Except, holy hell. Bucky is insanely sexy, and suddenly, being all alone in a strange bed doesn’t hold so much appeal. Now, if there was someone—perhaps his stunning host—in it with him, Steve would happily dive between the sheets and not come up for air for days. Mouth dry and blood running hot, Steve snaps his gaping mouth shut and tries not to drool as he imagines thick thighs gripping his waist as he pushes inside, thrusting and grunting as he rams into Bucky’s—
“You’re Steve?” Bucky asks as Steve stands frozen next to his pickup, unable to move, and paralyzed with lust.
“Steve,” he gasps and swallows despite his dry throat. “That’s me. Yes. Steve.”
He’s a babbling moron, but Bucky doesn’t seem to mind, simply gives him a perplexed look and waves at him to follow to the cabin that’s set back from the road. Shaking himself, Steve manages to put one foot in front of the other, but that’s likely only because Bucky’s ass is perfection. Steve can’t stop staring at it.
Bucky unlocks the cabin’s door and opens it. Stepping aside, he allows Steve to enter first and follows him into the dim space. The room is small, a little shabby, and dark since the sun’s sunk low in the sky and behind the surrounding cliffs. With Bucky joining him inside the walls, the cabin seems miniscule, too tiny to hold two large, masculine bodies. For a split second, Steve fights a sudden stab of claustrophobia. He also wants to rip Bucky’s clothes from his body.
“Breakfast’s at 8:30. You don’t have to eat with me, but it’s better when it’s hot.” Jerking his thumb over his shoulder, Bucky motions to the neighboring cabin Steve didn’t even realize was there until just now.
“I’ll be there,” Steve assures him with just a hint of overeager excitement at the promise of seeing Bucky again early the next morning after a good night’s sleep. He’s sure it’s going to be filled with sex dreams and images of Bucky’s body wrapped in his arms.
On second thought, he likely won’t catch a single wink. Instead, he’ll be twisting and turning as he tries to drive Bucky from his mind. For sure, he’s going to have to jerk one (or a thousand) out just to relieve the pressure stirring in his gut. Careful to keep his bag over his crotch to hide his traitorous erection, he bids Bucky goodbye and heaves a relieved sigh as the door closes behind him. It takes exactly three seconds to unbutton his jeans and get his hand on his cock as Bucky’s name falls from his lips in a strangled moan.
“Ah, Christ,” he swears as he jerks himself.
He’s too turned on to bother with lube—even spit—but his dick doesn’t seem to mind. He’s hard and throbbing with fluid leaking from the tip. He pauses his frantic movements long enough to sweep his palm over the head to smear moisture down his shaft. Fire shoots through his veins, and he decides not to bother pretending he can last. His mind drifts to pouty pink lips, silky brown hair, and legs for days. That’s all it takes.
Arching his back, he shouts when he climaxes. Twisting into himself, he groans as wet, sticky cum streaks his t-shirt and the sliver of exposed skin at his waist. He can feel the tacky mess clinging to his pubes, so he smears his fingertips through them. If Bucky were here, Steve would force his head down to suck his cock and lick it clean. Maybe he’d shove Bucky’s nose into his bush and watch him nuzzle.
Chest heaving, Steve finally stops coming and staggers over to the bed to sink onto the mattress in a boneless puddle. There’s an unsatisfied itch just below the surface, but he’s too exhausted to contemplate how to scratch it. He’d love to get Bucky under him, but that might not be possible. In the meantime, he’s got two hands, and he can take care of himself.
Just as soon as he figures out how to move again.
Thankfully, he manages to pull himself together, take a shower (where he jerks out another one…or two), and climbs into bed as the sky fades to a deep purple that’s so dark it’s almost black. Pulling a dog-eared paperback from his bag, he snuggles under the cover and reads until his eyelids droop. It’s only then that he can shake off the restless sexual energy he’s been working to repress since he laid eyes on Bucky Barnes.
The next morning dawns earlier than Steve usually wakes, but he doesn’t mind. He spends a lazy hour waking up with his hand on his dick before getting dressed and making his way to Bucky’s cabin. He can’t keep the smile off his face when the door opens and the vision in front of him grins back with an invitation to join him inside.
“There’s coffee,” Bucky offers and waves at a steaming mug on the countertop. “If you’re like me, that won’t be enough, but it’s a start.”
Taking a sip, Steve moans at the dark, rich roast. He’s not a coffee snob, by any means, but he does appreciate a quality cup of java, especially after as far as he traveled the previous day. His muscles are still a little stiff.
He’s drained half the mug when Bucky queries, “Sleep well?”
“Like a baby,” Steve admits. “Must be the fresh air. Or the company.”
Bucky’s lips quirk up, but he doesn’t lift his head. “Could be,” he agrees as he shakes the eggs onto plates. “It can get awfully lonely out here sometimes. Nice to have someone close to my age rent the cabin for a change. If you want…”
Leaning on his forearms, Steve waits a few seconds until Bucky glances up to look at him. Then, he gives him an overtly flirtatious look and murmurs, “If I want…?”
Swallowing loud enough that Steve can hear the gulp, Bucky blinks several times before answering, “If you want, we could—well, I could—show you some trails. Maybe take a couple of hikes together? Do some rock climbing? Like I said. It gets lonely.”
“You could use a friend, huh?”
Pale blue eyes flashing, Bucky studies him for several seconds before nodding. “Sure. A friend…or something like that.”
“Well, I’m happy to be…whatever you need.”
Electricity crackles between them, and Steve doesn’t look away from the steely gaze. He doesn’t usually engage in one-night stands, but Bucky’s too hot and Steve’s too horny to bother caring about that self-imposed rule. Besides, he’s here for two nights. Maybe they can fuck enough before he leaves that it doesn’t feel like a fling.
Bucky crashes against him with the force of a freight train. Grappling hands and a hot, greedy mouth chase his body, and Steve moans at the feverish rush of lust that overtakes him. Shucking off his shirt, he groans when Bucky presses the flat of his tongue over a nipple before biting it. His dick is hard and throbbing, and Steve jerks his fly open just so he can slot his cock against Bucky’s. A long, low groan falls from his lips at the exquisite pleasure of hot skin on skin.
“I—fuck. Jesus, fuck,” Steve grunts as Bucky’s big hand wraps around Steve’s cock and gives an experimental twist.
Desperate for a release, Steve barely registers the scrape of metal embedded in scarred, puckered flesh. He noticed it the previous night, but he’d been too enamored with Bucky’s gorgeous face to bother to ask. And he’d also been eager. No question about that. Now, he realizes his host’s left limb is mangled, a bizarre combination of human skin and plates of metal that fuse into the semblance of an arm. With Bucky’s shirt off, Steve realizes the deformity stretches all the way to his shoulder, but he’s too aroused to give a shit. All he registers is the points of contact between the two of them, in particular, the slide of his erection against Bucky’s thick shaft.
He lasts an embarrassingly short amount of time. The insistent tug on his dick is too good, especially when it’s forced against Bucky’s substantial girth. When Bucky lifts his head and sticks his tongue in Steve’s ear, he can’t help the way his cock twitches. Dirty talk falls from Bucky’s lips in a deep rumble, which does nothing to help Steve keep himself in check. Biting his lip, he tries and fails to control himself. Instead, he blows, body shivering and shaking before sagging into Bucky’s chest. A groan and grunt later, Bucky jerks against him, and he can feel the wet warmth of Bucky’s cum mixing with his. Unable to do anything else, he drops his head on Bucky’s shoulder to steady himself.
“Christ,” he hisses when Bucky tugs him close and dips his fingers into the cleft between Steve’s cheeks. “I—this isn’t something I normally do, but fuck…”
Chuckling softly, Bucky murmurs, “You don’t have to justify yourself to me. I undressed you with my eyes as soon as you stepped out of your truck.”
Groaning at Bucky’s admission, Steve sinks to his knees. He jerks down Bucky’s jeans so his thick thighs are fully exposed and rubs his hands through the dark hair marking the smooth skin. With a tortured sigh, he leans forward, nuzzling into Bucky’s groin and sweeping his tongue through the sticky filth of their combined release.
He revels in it—the mess, the texture of wiry hair against his lips, the tang of his jizz mixed with the musk of Bucky’s outdoorsy scent. Steve’s dick is longer than Bucky’s, but not nearly as girthy. His balls are big and heavy, and Steve pulls them into his mouth one by one. In the back of his mind, he tells himself he’s not being smart. He knows nothing about Bucky’s medical history, the number of his sexual partners, or whether or not he’s practiced safe sex in the past. Steve still can’t bring himself to stop. Swallowing Bucky’s cock, Steve sucks as he cradles Bucky’s balls and rolls them in his hand. In response, Bucky winds his fingers in Steve’s hair and fucks his mouth like he’s a man possessed.
Throat stinging from abuse, Steve wraps his hands around Bucky’s thighs and grips him as he hollows out his throat. He loves sucking dick, always has, but this is more than a blowjob. This is fevered, desperate, practically unhinged savagery, and Steve wants all of it. Moaning around Bucky’s cock, he leans back his head and sucks.
“Ah, shit,” Bucky grunts as his shaft thickens. “Ah, shit, Steve. You’re so goddamn pretty down on your knees for me. Take my fucking cock. Yeah, take it hard.”
The dirty talk shoots straight to his groin, and his own dick twitches. A dribble of fluid drips from the tip and wets his leg, but he doesn’t have time to think about it. Not with Bucky face fucking him with the power and finesse of a jackhammer. He swears he’s in a fever dream, but he doesn’t want to wake up. Just for once, he’s going to give into his base desires. A torrid, spontaneous fling with his sexy, mysterious host in the wilds of Arizona feels like exactly the way to do it.
When Bucky shoots down his throat, Steve gags on the sheer amount of cum that erupts from Bucky’s tip. He swallows desperately, shaking as his airways fill. Struggling against Bucky’s grip, Steve tries to pull free, to drag in fresh air, but he’s trapped in Bucky’s forceful grasp. The release floods his nose until he’s sure he’s going to suffocate. As he flails, Bucky’s body jerks and clenches, his powerful thighs bunching under Steve’s touch.
Steve’s vision goes spotty, and he panics. Scrambling to get away, he has a terrible thought that he doesn’t know this man at all. Bucky could do almost anything to him, and Steve has no recourse. He’s completely vulnerable in his position. Except for the fact that Bucky’s dick is in his mouth. He could clamp down. It’s a last resort, but—
Bucky lets go of him then, and Steve falls backward in an unceremonious heap. Flat on his ass, he blinks up at Bucky, whose face is twisted into a mask of sated desire. Cheeks flushed pink, pale eyes sparkling like diamonds, lips wet and bright red, and tangled hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, Bucky looks like—well, Steve doesn’t have words for how magnificent he is. Terrible in his beauty, Bucky’s expression is both thunderous and serene. He’s equal parts angelic and terrifying. Steve wants to uncover every secret in Bucky’s head and memorize each discovery, mapping it with his fingertips and tongue.
Without a word, Bucky extends his hand and helps Steve to his feet. He’s unsteady, grateful for Bucky’s strong grip as he tries to regain his balance. Bucky kisses him, his tongue thick and insistent as he licks into Steve’s mouth. He’s sure Bucky can taste himself, and a whimper escapes him at the thought. There’s something sexy about Bucky chasing his own release down Steve’s throat. The kiss turns filthy in seconds, dirty and lustful and demanding. Bucky doesn’t ask. He takes. It’s a little unnerving, and it’s insanely hot.
Insistent fingers, slick with cum, probe at Steve’s hole, and he moans into Bucky’s mouth. Grabbing at Bucky’s chest, Steve hisses, “Fuck breakfast. Fuck the trails. Take me to bed. Drill me into the mattress, Buck.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” Bucky warns in his low, silky voice. Steve has to close his eyes to keep from coming at the sound of it.
Wrapping his arms around Bucky’s neck, Steve kisses him again. “I do know what I’m asking. Make me yours. Claim me. I haven’t been anyone’s for so long.”
Bucky growls at Steve’s words and whirls Steve so that his back is pressed to Bucky’s solid chest. A moan tears from his throat at the sudden movement and promise of more. Bucky breaches him roughly, forcing his finger past the thick muscle of Steve’s hole. Curving his finger, he pushes inside without lube. He doesn’t wait for Steve to adjust to him or relax. Head spinning, Steve begs for mercy and more at the same time. He can’t think, doesn’t want to examine how reckless he’s being or why he likes it that Bucky’s rough, greedy actions make him feel like he’s on a precipice with nothing to cushion a fall.
He doesn’t know how they get to the bed, but they fall onto the mattress in a tangled heap. What’s left of their clothes are discarded in a flurry. Bucky presses a bottle of lube into his hand with a growled order to slick himself up. His ears register the tear of foil, and then Bucky’s thick head prods against Steve’s hole. There’s a condom, which eases the panic building inside him, and then he can’t think at all.
When Bucky thrusts inside, Steve makes a noise somewhere between a scream of pain and moaned grunt. He’s so fucking big, and Steve hasn’t taken it in the ass for months. He’s bent in two, his knees caught on Bucky’s shoulders, getting pounded with erratic, powerful thrusts. He swears there’s a fence post between his legs, and it’s driving into him repeatedly without any indication of stopping.
His dick is soft, flopping against his stomach, but Bucky’s thick and hard inside him. He doesn’t seem to have a refractory period, or else he’s got the stamina of a twenty-year-old. He’s already ejaculated twice in what feels like minutes, but he hasn’t gone soft at all.
The rush of blood in his ears ebbs enough to realize that Bucky’s chanting. His voice is barely audible, a mumbled litany just under his breath. Steve doesn’t catch the words, but his skin prickles. Something feels off, a little alarming, and he suddenly wonders if he’s gotten in over his head.
As if Bucky can sense Steve’s unease, he lifts his head and cups Steve’s cheek. “So fucking good, sweetheart. I haven’t…it’s been a damn long time, and your ass feels incredible. Wanna dick you down so hard. Make you mine.”
Bucky’s lips meet his in a passionate caress. What was frenetic and voracious gives way to tenderness. His tongue slides over Steve’s, stroking gently and sparking another wave of heat in Steve’s gut. His thumb traces Steve’s jawline and trails down to his left nipple. Ghosting over the peak, Bucky swivels his hips, rocking into Steve’s prostate with every stroke.
This is what Steve wants. This perfect, glorious union between two bodies who slot together like two missing pieces of a puzzle. Fiery passion is glorious, but this…this marriage of souls means something to him. Losing himself in Bucky, Steve closes his eyes and holds on. After what feels like hours, a wave of pleasure so sharp and bright that it rivals the sun rips through him. He comes, his dick spurting, even though it’s only semi-hard. Half out of his head, he rides the point between pain and pleasure until he simply can’t handle anymore. Unsure if he blacks out or just has lost the meaning of time, Steve concentrates on regaining his breath. After that, he can work on getting his brain back online.
Completely exhausted, Steve finally lifts his head for a kiss. Bucky gives it to him with a tender smile and a cuddle that feels intimate and romantic. Grateful for what feels like reassurance, Steve snuggles into Bucky’s embrace. Sticky with sweat and cum, he inhales deeply as his legs fall limply against the mattress. It’s the best sex he’s had in his entire life, and he has another 36 hours before he needs to leave. That means…he could feel this wonderful another half dozen times or so. Sighing contentedly, he lets himself drift in a satisfied daze. The sheets are cool and soft around him, but Bucky’s warm and sturdy. With a sated smile tugging at his lips, he drifts into oblivion.
His dreams are full of golden light and warmth before shifting to something dark and dangerous. He’s no stranger to nightmares, but he hasn’t had any this terrible for a long time. Something in his mind is trying to warn him, to get him to wake up, but his limbs feel like they weigh a million pounds. The mattress beneath him is uncomfortable, damp, and hard instead of soft and warm. Apprehension prickles the back of his neck, and he fights the darkness. With a herculean effort, he finally manages to open his eyes.
At first, he can’t comprehend what he’s seeing. The homey wood paneling of Bucky’s cabin has given way to unfinished concrete, and the paned windows that let in early morning light are tiny slits with bars over them. A bare bulb hangs from the ceiling on a single wire, and Steve shivers as the dank basement air assails his nostrils.
“What the fuck!” he hisses as he takes in his surroundings, but that’s nothing compared to when he notices his own condition. “What the FUCK!”
He’s naked on a bare concrete floor, and his ankle is locked in a rusted manacle that’s attached to a chain anchored in the cement. There’s a drain two feet to his left.
“I made you mine.”
Scrambling into a crouch, Steve realizes he’s not alone. Bucky is seated a few feet away from him, his face shrouded in the shadows, his long legs crossed in front of him as he watches Steve with a gleam in his eyes.
“What the fuck?” Steve repeats, but it’s more plaintive than outraged this time. The ache between his legs is a firm reminder that he’s just been fucked hard, but he didn’t mean like this.
Leaning forward, Bucky’s handsome face is illuminated fully by the light bulb. He seems perfectly serene, unlike Steve, and he offers a smile that would be charming if it wasn’t on the face of what Steve suddenly suspects is a madman.
“You asked me to make you mine. To claim you,” Bucky explains. When Steve doesn’t answer, he shrugs, “I did what you asked.”
Speechless, Steve tries to comprehend what’s happening. He’s chained in a basement in Arizona. There’s no one around for miles. None of his friends know where he is, and no one is expecting him anywhere for weeks. Heart sinking, Steve tries to stave off panic, but he’s becoming rapidly more alarmed with every passing second.
“I didn’t want this,” he argues. “This isn’t what I meant.”
“No?” Bucky asks. He stretches out and rises to his feet. “I think you were fairly specific. I warned you that you didn’t know what you were asking for this morning. You insisted that you did.”
“I didn’t ask to be kidnapped.”
Cocking his head, Bucky smiles and reaches down to stroke his dick. “I didn’t kidnap you. You came here on your own.”
Horrified, Steve can’t stop watching as Bucky comes closer. He’s still soft, but Steve can tell that won’t last. He’s already thickening, which…
“Fuck,” Steve swears under his breath and crosses one thigh over the other.
“I can tell you’re turned on, Steve,” Bucky croons. “Put your hand on it. Do it.”
“No way in fuck am I masturbating on command,” Steve spits.
Although Bucky’s expression doesn’t change, he twists his foot in the chain attached to the floor and jerks it. Caught off guard, Steve falls to his left, and his traitorous cock springs free.
“I said to put your hand on it.”
His voice is hard now, missing all the warmth from breakfast. For several seconds, Steve studies the situation, but he can’t come up with a strategy that will result in anything but the status quo. Lifting his hand, he cups his balls and rubs over his crotch. When Bucky nods encouragingly, he twists his hand to palm his flaccid penis.
“Rub it,” Bucky insists as he continues to pleasure himself. “We’re going to do this together. Just like you wanted.”
“I never said—”
“I told you that I’m lonely. You said you’d be whatever I want.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“DO IT!” Bucky thunders, his voice bouncing off the concrete walls and echoing in the small space. Jolting at the forcefulness of his voice, Steve gives into Bucky’s demands. He won’t get anywhere if his captor’s angry.
Bucky comes closer, and Steve can see the tip of his dick glisten. As sick as it is, Steve can’t help but remember how Bucky tasted or the feel of cum sliding down his throat. The sound of skin on skin has always been erotic to him, and it’s no different now. Terrified at the situation and his own depravity, he strokes himself, his eyes glued to Bucky’s performance.
It must be the adrenaline because it’s not arousal. As Bucky hunches his shoulders, Steve moans as a dribble eases from his tip. There’s no relief in it, only horror and disgust, but that’s quickly replaced by something much more sinister. Bucky grunts, and he shoots a load that spatters across the short distance between them. A glob lands on Steve’s leg, and he grimaces.
He’s not sure what he expects, but Bucky’s actions still take him by surprise. Without a word, he shakes his dick, flicking off the remnants of his orgasm, and gives Steve a sweet, tender smile. Steve shrinks back, but there’s no need. Turning on his heel, Bucky heads to the stairs and ascends. As the door closes behind him, the light bulb flicks off, and the basement plunges into darkness.