Chapter Text
"Don't you have a class to teach?" Mr. Fury asked, not even looking up from his papers, as Steve stood at attention in front of his desk.
"First period is my prep, sir." Fury exhaled heavily and looked up to see that Steve was holding a manilla envelope.
"What the Hell is that?" He asked, raising his eyebrow.
"I'm afraid I have to resign, Mr. Fury, sir," Steve announced.
"On the second day of school? What the Hell could have happened between yesterday's staff meeting and now that could make you feel the need to resign? And stop with this 'sir' bullshit. I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times, this isn't the army." Steve swallowed nervously.
"I found my soulmate," he told his boss, biting off the 'sir' at the end but somehow leaving it audible.
Fury looked at him like he was crazy.
"So take a week off. You're head of the art department, we need you on staff."
"He's a student," Steve clarified, extending the envelope. Fury didn't take it.
"Is he over the age of consent?"
"Well. I mean, yeah, but I thought-"
"You thought nothing. This is your prep period, go prep. Take a week off, both of you, starting tomorrow, and I don't want to hear about this again."
*
Bucky readjusted in his seat. He really still wasn't sure yet as to whether last period would be his most or least favorite class. He hadn't actually signed up for it; he had signed up for social sciences 301, but there weren't enough kids interested to run a class, so he had landed in pottery. His classes were basically all arts-based, apart from English and Math, but hey, Bucky wouldn't complain about that. No, what he would complain about was the view. The exquisite view he got whenever Steve bent down to get something out of his bag. Which was a lot today, for some reason.
What was worse than the boner he was hiding was that this was one of those classes that kids could move their seats in, and Steve's (least?) favorite student, Clint Barton, had taken it upon himself to sit right next to Bucky today. Not that Clint was a bad kid: in fact, under different circumstances Bucky could see himself becoming good friends with him. It's just that Clint kept asking over and over about why Steve had kept Bucky after class yesterday. Bucky was starting to run out of excuses, tugging at his right sleeve to hide the jagged writing on his wrist, when Steve wandered over.
"Barton, c'mon, leave him alone. He botherin' you, Bucky?" Bucky bit his lip. If he said yes, then Steve would deal with it and Clint would leave him alone. On the other hand, Clint seemed to be pretty popular at this school, and the last thing Bucky needed was to be labeled a snitch.
"It's fine. Thank you." He offered Steve a smile, which didn't fool him for a second, but the teacher shrugged and made to move on.
"Barton, that's a warning. Take a hint," he signed as he left.
"Sorry. It's really none of my business," Clint admitted. "It's just that Steve never keeps anyone after class, and you didn't even say anything to piss him off. It must be something that the office told him about, right? I won't ask again."
Bucky sighed.
"Well, now I feel like I should tell you." He glanced over at Clint as if studying him could prove whether he was worthy of the knowledge he was about to receive. Seeing nothing, but deciding to risk it anyway, Bucky pushed the sleeve on his right arm up slightly to reveal 'Steven Grant Rogers' in the same handwriting that was on the board. Clint's eyes widened.
"Is it mutual?" He asked quietly. Bucky nodded.
"Please don't tell anyone. Steve's not gonna lose his job or nothin', but it would still be easier if as few people as possible knew."
"Wouldn't dream of it. My folks have a ten year gap, they thought they had the biggest ever. Guess you two proved them wrong. What's the gap?"
"Nineteen years."
"Holy shit. That's... Kinda hot, actually."
"Yeah, until you realize he's gonna die twenty years before me." Clint nodded in ascension.
"Fair enough. Still though, you've got a long time before that happens. And don't worry about me, my lips are sealed." Bucky smiled and turned back to the clay he was wedging.
*
When the bell rang, Steve noticed Clint nod goodbye at Bucky as he gathered his stuff. Bucky smiled in return and continued cleaning up his station.
"So, this is a lot harder than I thought it would be," Bucky admitted when it was just the two of them. Steve chuckled.
"What is it that you're having trouble with, Buck?" He asked, coming up behind his student to place his hands on his hips. Bucky sighed, put-upon.
"Well, Sir, I just can't get the clay to stay right in the middle of the wheel. It always slips off."
"Mmm, well, we can't have that. Maybe you need extra lessons?" What are you doing. He's your student. You said you wouldn't pressure hi----- Bucky whimpered in his throat.
"I think that might be the only course of action, Sir," he agreed, "I just don't seem to be strong enough to hold it there." Bull fucking shit. You've seen Bucky, he's fucking ripped. Steve placed a gentle kiss to the corner of his student's jaw.
"Mm. Well, I don't know... See, I've got a mate at home, beautiful little thing he is, an' I think he'd be awful jealous if I was spendin' all this extra time at work... You'd have to promise not to tell." Bucky shivered under his touch as his hands trailed up and down his sides.
"Scout's honor, Sir," he breathed. Steve smiled against his skin.
"There we go, dollface, we'll get you the help you need," he murmured as he pulled away. "Let's get you home," he offered, returning to normal ridiculously fast considering how turned on he was. "If you actually are having trouble, I'll help you out next week. But for now, Fury said that if we weren't out of here by four, he really would fire me." Bucky turned to look at him, confused.
"Wait, what?"
"Oh, did I not tell you? We have a week off." Steve noted the smirk slowly spreading over his student's features. "Oh no. What are you planning?"
"Planning? What would I be planning? I'm not planning anything." Steve narrowed his eyes.
"Okay. Come on, let's go home."
*
Later that evening, Bucky bit his lip 'till it was red in a way he knew for a fact was alluring.
"Stevie?" He called before trapping his lip back between his teeth. Steve came around the corner, drying his hands from the dishwater.
"Yeah, Buck, what is--" Bucky could practically hear the air being punched out of Steve's lungs as he took in the sight before him. Bucky had found the loosest sweatpants he could in Steve's dresser, with no shirt. Not to mention that he hadn't towelled off after the shower he had just stepped out of, so there were still rivulets of water dripping from his skin as he trembled, partly from cold, partly from knowing what it would do to Steve. He watched as Steve drank in the sight of him.
"I'm gonna need to do some laundry," Bucky admitted in his best impression of innocence, "'M already outta shirts." Steve flat-out whined at how gorgeous his soulmate looked. "Stevie?" Steve shook his head and looked up to Bucky's face.
"Yeah, Kitten? Sorry, I... I zoned out." 'Zoned out.' I'll show you 'zoned out'.
"I asked if we could go to the laundromat. My shirts are all dirty." It took Steve a second, but he nodded. "It could wait 'till tomorrow," Bucky added. "Just wanted to let you know."
"Yeah... Tomorrow..." Steve agreed, and stepped forward slightly, his hands twitching by his sides.
"Sir?" Bucky asked.
"Yeah, Buck?" Steve responded, still distracted by a drop of water sliding down Bucky's throat.
“If you want something, you’re allowed to ask,” the brunette murmured, his voice rumbling just slightly, "Wouldn't want good manners to deny you what you need..." Steve's hands twitched up a bit more, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Bucky let his eyes wander down, noting the sizeable bulge in Steve's jeans. Slowly, carefully, he took a step forward, widening his eyes and looking up at the older man almost pleadingly. "Sir?" He asked, "may I please suck your cock? Never done it before, sir, but I'd like to try for you." Bullshit. Fucking whore. He watched as Steve's resolve crumbled all at once. Steve whined in the back of his throat and reached forward, cupping his student's jaw gently in both hands.
"Oh... Kitten, I..." Bucky stretched up on his toes, closing the gap between their mouths. Steve made a startled sound, then sighed into the kiss. It was soft, shy almost, at first- Bucky was still keeping up his innocent act- but as time went by, Steve took more and more control, angling Bucky's jaw to give him perfect access. Bucky's stomach fluttered at the feeling of Steve's tongue invading his body, and he moaned, the sound muffled by Steve's mouth. "Bucky- babydoll, I- I want you," Steve whined as they broke apart. "I want you so bad, Bucky." Bucky nipped gently at his lip one more time for good measure and breathed,
"Yeah? How do you want me, Sir?"
"On my bed," Steve commanded, his voice gravelly. Bucky pressed another kiss to his lips before backing away, leading him to the bedroom with swaying hips and sweatpants that really wouldn't stay up.
Steve froze in the doorway and groaned at the sight of him; Bucky was lying sprawled across the bed, soaking the blankets with hair that really should've been towelled.
"Sir?" Bucky asked, his voice barely above a whimper.
"Yeah, babydoll? What do you need?"
"Please hold me, Sir. Please." Steve surged forward, kneeling between Bucky's legs and kissing him deeply. Bucky moaned into his mouth and wrapped his legs shakily around his hips.
"I've got you, Buck. 'S gonna feel so good, babydoll. You ever done this before?" Bucky shook his head. Not willingly, at least. “I’m gonna take care of you, Bucky. Gonna make you feel so good. You sure, though? I don’t want to do anything you don’t want.”
“You’d never hurt me, would you, Steve?” Bucky asked, knowing the answer but seeking reassurance. Steve kissed him gently.
“Of course not, Kitten. Do you want to wait? We can do something else, if you-”
“No, please, I want you so bad, Stevie. Please? Please, can I have you?” Steve shuddered as Bucky’s breath ghosted across his skin.
“How clean are you down there?” he asked. --Soap-slick fingers in the shower, holding back from crying Steve's name--
“I just showered, what do you think?” Bucky replied, kissing the corner of Steve’s mouth.
"I think I'd like to eat that pretty little ass of yours out, babydoll. Would that be alright? Or would you rather I put my fingers in you?" Bucky's breath stuttered and he choked on a moan.
"Please," he managed, not caring which option Steve gave him, "please, Sir."
"Of course, Buck," Steve murmured, leaning down to kiss his student gently. "Gonna take care of you, Kitten. Gonna make you feel so good. I love you, Bucky." Bucky swore he felt his heart stop for a second.
"You-- You do? Really?" Steve nodded and kissed him again.
"So much, Buck. You're the most important person in the world to me. I would tear down everything for you." Bucky whined and flung his arms around Steve's neck, burying his face by his jaw.
"I- I--"
"It's alright, Bucky. Shhh. I wasn't expecting you to say it back just yet. You gonna be okay?" Bucky nodded slowly, laying his head back on the bed. Steve smiled down at him and trailed his fingertips over his mouth.
"You're so pretty, Buck," he whispered reverently, his eyes roaming over Bucky's features. "My pretty little boy."
He pressed one more kiss to Bucky's lips before trailing down his abdomen. He scattered love bites across his chest, the gentle suction making Bucky whine beneath him. He propped himself up on his elbows and started playing with Bucky's nipples, noting at what point they got to be oversensitive and pushing him just past it. Bucky's fingers twined gently into his hair as he worked closer to the waistband of his sweatpants.
"Everything alright, sweetheart?" Steve asked, pressing a kiss just below his partner's navel.
"Yeah. Just a bit nervous, is all." Steve hummed, the proximity to Bucky's groin making him moan.
"It's alright, Bucky. If you need me to stop, just let me know, alright? I'll stop as soon as you say so. Even if you just need a break, that's okay too. I love you, and I want this to be good for you, ok? If it isn't, we don't have to again until you're ready. Even if that's never."
Bucky had died and gone to Heaven. That was the only explanation he could accept at this point. There was no other possible reason for Steve to be so gentle; For him not to treat him like the whore he was. He breathed deeply as Steve gently tugged down his sweatpants, leaving matching, tiny bruises on each hipbone.
"Steve," he sighed, "'t feels good. More, please?" Steve chuckled and leaned up to kiss him again, taking his sweet time.
"You like that, huh, Kitten? You like it when I mark you up?" Bucky nodded and tilted his chin up to kiss Steve again. Steve smiled into the kiss and cupped Bucky's jaw in both hands. The brunet sighed and let his hands wander and grasp the front of Steve's shirt just below the collar. "Oh, baby, look at you," Steve praised, taking in the look on his face. "So sweet. I love you, Kitten." Bucky beamed at the attention and gasped slightly as Steve sucked a massive, dark purple bruise to his throat. Steve kissed his way back down Bucky's body, tugging Bucky's sweatpants off and hoisting his knees over his shoulders. Bucky smiled in response to the question in Steve's eyes and the older man kissed the inside of each thigh before leaning in. Bucky's mouth opened and closed silently as Steve pressed kisses to the sensitive skin, licking gently.
"S-Steve!" Bucky managed to choke out, reaching for his hand. Steve smiled and threaded their fingers together, pressing a kiss to Bucky's knuckles before diving in with fervour. Bucky gripped Steve's hand tightly, his body spasming.
"Everything alright, sweetheart?" Steve asked, a little breathless, as he heard Bucky's sobs. Bucky nodded.
"I-I just-- It feels so good," he whispered. "I didn't know it could be this good." Steve looked at him quizzically.
"I thought you said--"
"Not willingly, no." At that, Steve squeezed his hand and sat up.
"Bucky- Sweetheart, I had no idea. Baby, I would have been so much gentler, I'm so sorry--" Bucky shushed him, sitting up and leaning his head against the older man's shoulder.
"Stevie, it's okay. Bad stuff happened. I'm over it now. I've got you, and you'd never hurt me, right?"
"Of course I wouldn't, Buck. I- I'm sorry that happened, especially when I couldn't be there for you yet. I love you, sweetheart." Bucky smiled and kissed Steve's jaw.
"It's alright. But now you know why I didn't want you to call home." Steve froze up.
"Your- Your stepfather did that?" He asked as he recovered, holding Bucky marginally tighter.
"Yeah. Well, I mean, not technically. Alex, he... He didn't take too kindly to me having a man's name imprinted on my skin, said that homosexuality was a sin... And rented me out to his friends as punishment. I think it was supposed to discourage me from trying to find you. But it's okay now, I got out. I've got you, Stevie. He didn't win." He offered up a little smile, which Steve obviously didn't buy.
"I'll kill him," the blond declared, holding Bucky tight against his body. Bucky shivered and pressed a little kiss to Steve's jaw. "I really will. Where does he live?"
"Stevie, sweetheart, calm down," Bucky soothed. "It's alright, it stopped months ago now, and half the time I was so high I don't even remember it. Besides, I don't think it'd be as easy as just going to his house with a gun." Steve breathed deeply, pressing kisses to the top of Bucky's head.
"I- I'm sorry, Kitten. I just- How could somebody do that? To you? I- I just can't imagine anyone wanting anything but the best for you. I'm sorry if I got carried away." Bucky chuckled.
"I don't think you got carried away. Hell, if it was as easy as that, I'd have pulled the the trigger myself ages ago. But the thing about being Alexander Pierce's stepson is that you realize just how much power the bastard has. You wouldn't even have the gun out of your pocket before somebody shot you down, Stevie, and I can't lose you like that. Not for revenge."
"Wait. Alexander Pierce? The mob boss?" Bucky nodded. Steve's arms dropped as an ice-cold feeling settled in his stomach.
"Stevie?"
"I- I dunno if I can protect you from him, babydoll, " Steve admitted, wrapping his arms back around Bucky, impossibly tighter than before.
"Stevie, it's okay. He's not gonna hurt us. He cares too much about my mother to actually send his thugs after me," Bucky explained. Steve hummed in the back of his throat.
"Bucky, I don't think you understand. He's one of Schmidt's cronies, and if I--"
"Steve. Seriously, shut up. It's fine. We're gonna be okay." Steve sighed, but kissed Bucky's temple, laying them down.
"I love you, Bucky," he murmured, laying his head on Bucky's chest and lacing his fingers with the younger man's. Bucky bit his lip before kissing the top of Steve's head in lieu of a response. "Let's get some sleep, okay, babydoll? I'm sorry I freaked out. We'll go someplace special tomorrow, alright?"
