[ He can see that nothing is right with Steve's world when he comes home, jaw set and mouth thinned as he moves around the flat, restless and pacing. Bucky can guess at the cause, he can guess at half a dozen causes for a bad mood, he had clients who were angry and sore for a thousand different reasons and wanted someone to take it out on--Bucky knew how to step into that role without getting too badly hurt, but he isn't sure what to do with Steve when he gives him short answers and distant stares. Steve isn't a brute in some back alley in Brooklyn, he isn't the kind who needs to hurt someone to prove himself a man. He's nothing like that.
This is going to require more finesse.
He finally steps into Steve's path as he moves around the flat, putting his hands on his shoulders to steady him. ] You didn't kiss me hello. [ Bucky's voice is low and soft, his head tipped a little as he looks up at Steve, catching his gaze: his strong, gentle lover, so beautiful even when his face is tense with anger or unhappiness. The breadth of his shoulders under Bucky's hand makes his heart pound. ] I'll forgive you, though, if you sit down and let me make you a drink.
[ He pushes Steve gently towards a chair. Bucky can ask him later what went wrong--some contract left unnegotiated, maybe even some money lost, he can guess if nothing else--after he teases and coaxes him to a better mood; once Steve has worked out his tension he'll sigh and pull him close and the story will come out. There's no need to push for it now. He makes him sit, slides his fingers against Steve's cheek for a moment, tugs his tie loose and slides it silky and smooth from around his throat. He undoes the top button of his dress shirt, removes his cufflinks for him one by one. ] There, now you look more comfortable. Brandy or wine?
[ It's been a rough day at work, a series of small irritations condensed into a mood that Steve fights but still can't get rid of. He's not like most men -- no matter what he's endured, no matter how trying a day he's had, he doesn't want to take it all out on Bucky; his Bucky's innocent, loving and concerned, and he relaxes just a little when Bucky decides to engage.
It's been a little while after he agreed to their contract, and things had never been better between them. Bucky finally belongs to him alone, and there's nothing more than he can ever want -- they're happy together, and Steve gives him everything that he can ever want, respecting and loving him all the same.
He sighs and lets himself be maneuvered into his chair, still caught up on the irritations of the workplace, the anger that still simmers under his skin -- what is he going to do without you, Bucky? He runs his fingers through his short blond hair, and shakes his head. ]
[ Bucky gives him a smile, thumbing gently over his cheekbone. ] Whatever you'd like.
[ He knows where Steve keeps the best wines, where there's a Cotes du Rhone they opened a couple of nights ago when they sat out on the balcony in the twilight, as the sky darkened and the city lit up beneath them, the Eiffel Tower glowing in the distance like a dream. Steve filled his glass again and again until Bucky was swaying; he carried him to bed and fucked him slowly and sweetly into the mattress until he begged for completion. He knows he's Steve's kept boy, he knows this is what he agreed to when he signed their contract, to belong to him utterly, to take his cock anytime, anywhere he desires, but Steve isn't just a client anymore, Steve is his lover and Bucky grows more and more helplessly attached to him every day, every moment they spend together. He never expected to find himself here with him, to feel so loved and fulfilled.
There's just enough left in the bottle for a single glass, and Bucky brings it to Steve, wondering if the scent and taste will remind him of that night on the balcony, the ease and sweetness between them. Sit with me, Steve said, and Bucky had deliberately put him in one of the single armchairs; he's not going to sit anywhere out of his reach, so after he hands him the wine he simply slides down to the floor beside him, leaning against one of his thighs. There's a faint smile on his face, a glow of helpless adoration in his chest. ]
[ Steve is lucky to have him, he knows that every day, especially when Bucky brings him a glass of their favorite wine. He remembers it, the evening they'd spent together finishing up the bottle, and he made love to him over and over again, fucking him right into the mattress and rendering him undone.
His jaw is set, still, despite his lover's best intentions, and he runs his fingers through Bucky's dark hair, letting the strands spill through them, petting him when he settles by his feet like an obedient kitten. ]
A little. It's been an infuriating day. [ He exhales, and takes a sip, setting it to the side, frowning a little. ] You're the only good thing that happened today.
[ Bucky's voice is still low, soft, as though to coax Steve into an equally gentle frame of mind. He leans into Steve's hand in his hair, looking up at him--jaw still set, anger and tension in the lines of his body, yet his fingers in Bucky's hair are tender. He's never touched him with the intent to harm, and Bucky's never felt anything but love and kindness in his hands, even when he's tormenting him, taking him apart. ] I want you to have only good things, Steve. [ He kisses the palm of Steve's hand when it's in reach. ] But I want to be the best thing that happens to you.
[ He turns his head and rubs his cheek against Steve's inner thigh, against the luxurious fabric of his tailored suit trousers. Bucky nudges further between his legs, inquisitive, and leans his head down to Steve's lap, resting his cheek over the bulge of his cock. ] Can't have you like this. I'm here for your pleasure, Steve. What would it say about me if I let you go on feeling infuriated? [ Bucky turns his head and brushes his lips to Steve's cock through the fabric of his trousers, tracing the shape of it slowly. ] Drink your wine.
[ Steve's fingers curl gently, indulgently when he feels those lips press against his palm, sweet and loving. He smiles, just a little. How can he not feel a little better when those sinful lips are pressed so lovingly against his trousers?
His cock is twitching, responding to Bucky like it always would, and he shifts in his seat, aware of his lover's plans and more than happy to welcome them. ]
You are the best thing that happens to me. [ All the time, always; Steve will swear on that. He takes another sip of his wine, pleased with him as he obeys those instructions, curious to see what he does next. Stroking his hair absently, he plays with his glass. ] Partners in the other firms messed up on what's supposed to be an easy, straightforward deal.
[ He can't help the shiver of pleasure it gives him when Steve's fingers card absently through his hair, the way they have other times when Bucky is naked on his knees, warming Steve's cock with his mouth as he attends to something else--a phone call, a meal, a report. He never feels quite so kept as he does in moments like that. He nuzzles Steve's cock with his lips, his mouth watering in an almost Pavlovian reaction, his own dick starting to ache, starting to harden in his pants. He likes those times when Steve treats him as his plaything, an object for his pleasure, but he likes this, too, the gentle intimacy between them, being trusted with Steve's cares and his secrets. ]
And you're thinking that if you had taken charge that never would have happened. [ Bucky suggests, easing open the buckle of Steve's belt, unfastening his trousers. ] But you can't be everywhere at once. [ He draws Steve's cock out to the open air, still mostly soft but harder than it was a few moments ago. Bucky presses his lips to the head, closing his eyes, and takes it a little into his mouth, sucking gently. His eyes lift up to Steve's face as he pulls free after a few moments, letting the spit-slicked crown tap against his chin. ] You'll fix it tomorrow. You'll make some calls, go see them in person if you have to.
[ He ducks his head for a moment to press his mouth to Steve's hip in a soft kiss. It's a strange feeling, this sudden shyness, especially for a whore. ] I'll come with you, if you want.
It never would have happened under me. [ Bucky is his whore, that's the thing. He is his lover, his soulmate, his whore, his everything -- and they both know it. And this is what they're both comfortable with; Bucky is so at ease at Steve's knee, and he doesn't pull him closer, continuing his idle touch as he contemplates his words. Arousal tingles down his spine, but he trusts in his Bucky to fan the flames, to bring it to a full boil.
He's looking forward to it, to have him be a distraction from his problems. Bucky is trusted, beloved, and Steve exhales quietly when he feels his trousers being unfastened, the tip of it in that sinfully sweet mouth. Oh, he's good. He's so good at this, and Steve only smiles down at him, cupping his face when he presses a kiss to his hipbone.
Steve adores him, and he doesn't hide it, his eyes kind and loving as he swipes his thumb and guides him firmly back to his cock. ] It'll bore you, Buck. I know corporate politics aren't your thing. It's barely even mine. [ He pushes his cock into his mouth, commanding, quietly guiding him to suckle, to nurse at his cock. ]
But still... what am I ever going to do without you?
[ There's a fissure of arousal that goes tingling up his spine when Steve guides him back to his cock, gentle and commanding. He loves the hands that firmly push him down on his hardening shaft again, Bucky's lips spreading wide around it, the broad head brushing heavy and hot over his tongue. He loves being touched, being used like an object for Steve's pleasure, available any time he desires; even when he initiates sex there is always the sense that he is Steve's kept whore, belonging to him. It should shame him, humiliate him, but Bucky's never had any other client like Steve, he's never known anyone that he wanted to belong to. It's a sweet, easy thing to be his, to let Steve fill him day after day, body and soul.
Bucky nurses softly at Steve's cock, eyes drifting closed, letting it inch deeper and deeper into his mouth until it fully hardens. Soon he's trying valiantly to swallow around it--Bucky is good at deep-throating, practiced at it, but Steve's cock is something else, so dizzyingly huge, filling him up until tears sting his eyes and he's sure he's going to choke.
He swallows around it anyway, face buried in Steve's lap, determined to suckle and pleasure him until the burdens of the day drop off his shoulders and his only interest is Bucky, using his willing whore until he's satisfied. He draws off of him at last to breathe, to glance up at him and answer, eyes blown huge and dark and his lips red and swollen. ]
Don't ever have to find out. I'm yours, remember? [ Bucky nuzzles at his cock again and takes it into his mouth, bobbing his head and sucking devotedly. ]
[ Steve adjusts and makes a soft noise of approval, of pleasure -- he loves it when Bucky does this so easily, so eagerly, when his throat closes over the thick, ruddy length of his cock like he'd been born to have it in his mouth. He hears the erotically obscene sounds of sucking, the way his lovely lips and tongue take him in, and the beauty of his face when he looks up at him.
Bucky is beloved above all else, pampered and used where Steve sees fit; and this is an understanding they both have with each other. He would fill him day after day, adore and pour every drop of seed into his waiting mouth or his hole, watching him be overwhelmed by his cock, or the force of his passions.
He reaches for his phone, looking away from Bucky to return a few texts -- if he wants Steve to pay attention to him, he's got to have to try harder. His thumb strokes over his lover's mouth absently, as if petting a cat. ] Mmm, that's nice.
[ It thrills him to hear that answer, that soft promise: he belongs to Steve, he swore it and signed himself to him, long before he understood what it would truly mean to be owned by a man like this. Bucky never would have agreed, though, if it were anyone else. He loves Steve so hopelessly, his strong hands and his great heart, so fiercely protective of Bucky; he loves his body, too, broad and beautiful, his mouth and cock, his wicked mind. Steve overwhelms him, and Bucky wants nothing more than to be on his knees for him, to please him and be used for his pleasure.
He suckles at Steve's cock like he was made for this, with fierce devotion, swallowing eagerly around the hot, rigid length that nudges into his throat. His cheeks hollow, lips wet and swollen as they slide up and down his shaft, as Bucky bobs his head in his lap, pressing down as deep as he can until his nose is buried in blond curls and his chin presses to Steve's balls. The musky, hot scent of Steve's body fills his lungs, arousing him until he aches, flushed all over. The flush deepens as Steve pets and praises him absently, reaching for his phone--a hot edge of humiliation sliding over him, a shamed kind of pleasure.
He loves being treated like Steve's pet, his plaything. A toy good for pleasure but little else, not worth any notice when he's down on his knees except for how good he is at bringing Steve off. His sweet little whore.
Bucky tries, he does his best for Steve's pleasure. Moans around his length for him, eyes closing in concentration as he sucks and licks, the heel of his hand kneading gently at Steve's balls. Working his mouth and throat around him, never letting him slip out, eager to feel him come, for a load of thick semen spilled down his throat. ]
[ Steve sighs, feeling that wet, yielding mouth around him -- his Bucky has always been fantastic at sucking cock, wonderful at drawing out pleasure and sending tingles down his spine. He's always loved how talented the man is with his mouth, adoring him, worshiping him in other moments. Steve shares his life with him, shares everything that matters and protects him, thrilled by the sharpness of Bucky's mind and the love that he gives.
He knows that he's privileged, that Bucky could just as well say no, refuse him, but he doesn't. So he praises him, humiliates his precious little cockslut and gives him what he wants. He continues texting, but his hips jerk into his mouth as Bucky keeps his cock nice and wet and slick.
Gently tapping his cheek to make sure he's silent, he calls an associate. This time, however, his hand moves to Bucky's head, and Steve make sure to jerk his hips, fucking his pretty, pretty face hard, dick sliding down his throat over and over again. Quiet, lover. He's on the phone. ]
[ Bucky's jaw is aching soon as he goes on sucking Steve's cock, keeping it warm and wet with his mouth, swollen lips stretched around it. Steve is soon fucking his mouth with shallow little jerks of his hips, but that's all--not coming yet, not giving him anything more than the slight rocking of his hips and his fingers petting occasionally through his hair as he continues to text--he lets Bucky pleasure him, bob his head into his lap over and over, wet eager mouth sliding up and down his shaft until there's a whimper of need that climbs out of Bucky's throat, his own dick achingly hard in his trousers. The humiliation of it, being used for pleasure, it sinks under his skin and makes him so hard he can barely stand it, he just needs--
He needs Steve's hand sliding into his hair, gripping as he starts to fuck his face in earnest, pushing Bucky down on his cock, pushing into his throat again and again. He moans before he remembers that Steve is on the phone, he wants him to be silent while he uses him, ruts into his mouth and his throat; Bucky fists himself desperately through his pants, swallowing around Steve's cock until tears wet his lashes. ]
[ And Steve, well, Steve comes in thick, sticky copious ropes, his soft grunt of pleasure quickly buried by a chuckle so that the party on the other end knows no better. Bucky's always been damn good with his mouth, and this is his reward.
He could feel his sperm slide down his lover's throat, he could feel the intoxicating joy of Bucky's submission, his eagerness for him, and he's unable to help himself when he reaches down and brushes the tears from those long, beautiful eyelashes. And oh, just look at him like this, those sinfully red lips wrapped so tightly around his cock that it's impossible for Steve to breathe.
Steve cradles the back of his head when he spurts, spurts and spurts again, making his sweet little Bucky drink every drop before he ends the conversation with a sigh, tossing the phone to the side to focus on him. He slips out of his mouth with a pop, wet and half-hard, and he gently wipes his thumb over Bucky's bottom lip, regarding him with love, with kindness. ]
You did a fantastic job, Buck. Look at you, you've got your reward, haven't you? Did it taste good?
[ He's nearly choking on Steve's cock, on the thick, plentiful spurts of seed that slide down his throat as he swallows desperately around him, trying to keep up. Bucky almost can't, thin pearly trails of semen and saliva spilling out of his lips at the slick, musky taste of Steve's come fills up his mouth, and the feeling of being used for Steve's pleasure is so perfect, all-encompassing. Steve's hand in his hair pushes him casually down on his cock again and again, fucking his throat through his release, feeding him his seed until his stomach feels tight and full. His soft moan gets lost in it, the tears wiped from his lashes by the gentle stroke of Steve's thumb, and Bucky knows that no matter what Steve pretends he has nothing but love and regard for him, that having Bucky as his own whore, his own prize, is everything that he wants.
He trembles and pants as Steve finishes his conversation and slides heavy from his mouth, his thumb catching the stains of seed on Bucky's swollen lips; his eyes are dark and hazy with need as he looks up at Steve, catching that thumb between gentle teeth. He licks at it with a shy tongue, flushed hot with shame and pleasure. Steve knows him so well, knows that making Bucky swallow his release is all the reward he could need, even if he's denied his own pleasure. ]
Yeah. [ His voice is soft as he nuzzles into Steve's hand like a pet seeking affection. ] I love the way you taste.
[ So, they're going to one of the most exclusive clubs tonight, located on the top floor of a building that requires at least two security clearances, and is prestigious enough to warrant a well-dressed, handsome young host waiting for them. He smiles, addresses Steve and Bucky as 'Mr Rogers and Mr Barnes' respectively even without introduction, and leads them down a corridor to the club.
It's an opulent, sleek and glitzy affair, the club darkened and the music pounding -- audible, but not overwhelming. This is the playpen of all the rich and powerful in the world, and Steve moves through them with ease, until he stops in the middle, before the eyes of patrons who were stirring in interest.
There are naked young men and women, collared and leashed, pets for their masters, and Steve simply kisses him softly, saying quietly in his ear. ]
[ Bucky is feeling good tonight, addicted to the opulence of Steve's world and his place in it, on the arm of the most beautiful, powerful man he's ever known, accompanying him to the kinds of venues a whore from the streets could only dream about. He's drunk on brandy that costs hundreds of dollars per glass, his chest and belly glowing warm, pleasure thrumming through his veins from Steve's nearness, from the slow deep kisses they exchanged as they rode through the city streets in a black- tinted car; he isn't quite hard yet but there's a pleasurable ache as he and Steve walk into the club, welcomed by the attractive young maître d.
Everything surrounding them is sleek and expensive, the music a throbbing beat, champagne and liquor flowing freely, men and women dressed in their glittering best all around them: gorgeous and wealthy, every one, though there's no one here who comes close to Steve, Bucky thinks. No one else with his perfect, golden beauty, his gentle strength. As they thread their way through the club, Steve guiding him assuredly among the rich and powerful, he turns his head and presses hot, soft kisses to Steve's throat, nipping tenderly at his ear. Bucky wants him, and he can't wait until they're alone and he can get his hands on him.
It's only when they come to the center of the room, in a circular area set apart like a stage, and he sees the collared men and women kneeling naked at the feet of the club's patrons that Bucky realizes Steve has no intention of waiting until they're alone.
A hot flush hits his cheeks the moment Steve turns to kiss him and murmur in his ear, his eyes going wide and dark. Steve, he...he wants Bucky here, among these human pets, men and women who are so clearly here for the pleasure of their masters. He gives him one pleading glance, but Bucky swore to this, he promised himself to Steve whenever, wherever he wanted, and he wants so badly to be touched, he wants Steve's hands and mouth on him, his cock in him--there's a hot, shamed pleasure burning under his skin as he reaches for his jacket lapels with fingers that tremble faintly, wondering how far this will go. If he's here just to be looked at, or...
Right now he can feel himself being looked at as he shrugs out of his jacket and undoes the knot of his tie, can feel more and more eyes turning as he blushes hotter and methodically strips away each piece of clothing, taking him in with interested, covetous gazes, someone's new pet. ]
[ Steve's new, prized pet, to be more exact. He's aware of all the eyes on Bucky; had in fact specifically engineered it to be so -- Bucky is the most beautiful, alluring creature in the room, to be sure, and already he's hearing whispers, watching the others come close when every item of clothing is set aside.
Soon, when Bucky's naked and bared to the entire club, Steve signals his own pleasure at his obedience with a gentle hand on the small of his back. Look at him, this beauty, this man who has pledged himself so fully to him. He reaches into his pocket, draws out a collar dripping with exquisite diamonds, and fastens it onto his throat, kissing his ear when he's done.
Nothing but the very best.
His fingers move around him to wrap his fingers around his growing cock, claiming him before everyone present, before he draws away. Meanwhile, a staff picks up Bucky's discarded clothes, neatly folding it and setting it aside until he needs it again. Now, it's time for Bucky to be exposed to them all as his slut, his whore, his beloved fucktoy.
He starts towards one of the other booths and takes a seat with a few business associates, and gestures for his Bucky to get on his knees. ]
[ He can feel himself burning all over by the time he removes the last piece of clothing, already half-hard with the humiliation of it, the sensation of being utterly owned. Bucky's performed in front of others before, accompanied someone to a party or club where he was meant to be groped and showed off, but never like this, with a magnificent collar fastened around his throat and the eyes of the richest men and women in Europe taking him in with unabashed jealousy, envying Steve his beautiful whore. Never with Steve wrapping his warm hand around him as though declaring his claim, so that Bucky gasps and jerks into his touch and leans back trembling against him, wanting. He can feel his cock filling out with every moment that passes, the weight of diamonds heavy around his throat and Steve's firm hand so beloved.
Bucky shuts his eyes for a moment and then opens them again as Steve moves away, relief flooding him when he gestures for him to follow, even if he is to do it on his knees. He sinks down, legs shaking, face flushed hot with shame as he feels all those watching eyes at his back, as he crawls to Steve's side; he's sitting with his business partners, men Bucky has met before, shaken hands and talked with over drinks or in the midst of a glittering gala. They're looking at him too, admiring him. Seeing him as he truly is, as Steve's prized possession.
He lays his head against Steve's thigh and doesn't try to hide himself. Beneath the seething tangle of pleasure and humiliation there is pride, too, because he belongs to Steve, because Steve Rogers is a better man than any who have ever set foot in this room. Bucky knows it; Bucky would do injury to any man who dared to deny it. He loves him beyond anything, beyond his pride, beyond his own life, beyond everything he gave up to cross an ocean with Steve and be with him always.
Bucky turns and nuzzles into his lap, slowly, with soft, hot lips. Let them all watch, let them see how much he loves his master. ]
[ Bucky Barnes is a work of art, gorgeous and beyond anyone Steve has ever loved and coveted. He keeps Bucky close, assuring him silently -- he's the only one he wants, and he's not oblivious to the way they all look at Bucky, drawn to the man's nakedness, his raw, incredible beauty.
Bucky's meant for all of this, and he gently pets him, running his fingers through his hair as he leans back, engages his business partners like it's the most natural thing in the world to have his sweetest whore pay attention to him. Pleasure coils in his spine, as does the fact that there is no one who doesn't turn to look at Bucky, to this man who so obediently takes to him without a word.
They want him, and Steve knows it, but he's secure in the fact that his lover has eyes for no one else. Tugging him closer, his cock pressing against the confines of his expensive pants, he presses into those lips. Bucky would get another lavish gift once they're done tonight -- and he'll be sure to reward him with affection, with love once they get home.
[ It's far easier to tuck his flushed face into Steve's lap than to try to meet the gaze of his business partners that keep sliding covetously towards him even as they carry on low conversation, or to let himself be aware of all the rest of the club around them, how eyes keep straying towards their table, men and women who could buy anything they desired in the world envying Steve his beautiful whore. They couldn't buy him. There isn't another man in the world that Bucky would give what he's given Steve: his heart, his very life and all rights to his body. And Steve would never share him, he's sure of that. The others can look, but they can't touch.
Steve tugs him closer so that he can feel the swell of his cock under the silky fabric of his pants, and Bucky obediently nuzzles against it, pressing soft, slow, hot kisses, tracing the shape of it with his lips. He's breathing in Steve's scent, the erotic musk of his arousal, his desire, and his entire body is trembling, eager for a taste. A part of him can't believe what he's doing, can't believe that he's naked on his knees with his face pressed into his lover's lap, a collar of glittering jewels clasped around his throat: as clearly a pet and a prize as any marking could make him, belonging utterly to Steve. Shame burns in his skin, stings his closed eyes, and under the humiliation there is such abject wanting, to be used, to exist only for Steve's pleasure.
Finally he reaches to undo Steve's belt with fingers that tremble slightly, needing no prompting. He knows exactly what's expected of him, his lips parting around the silky, broad head of Steve's cock as soon as he tugs it free of his trousers, his mouth sinking down on it, the heavy, delicious shaft filling him up, pressing down on his tongue. Someone's envious sigh isn't lost in his ears--look at him, Steve's beautiful whore, willing and eager for his master's pleasure. ]
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allmymuscles2015-02-20 09:42 am
no subject
This is going to require more finesse.
He finally steps into Steve's path as he moves around the flat, putting his hands on his shoulders to steady him. ] You didn't kiss me hello. [ Bucky's voice is low and soft, his head tipped a little as he looks up at Steve, catching his gaze: his strong, gentle lover, so beautiful even when his face is tense with anger or unhappiness. The breadth of his shoulders under Bucky's hand makes his heart pound. ] I'll forgive you, though, if you sit down and let me make you a drink.
[ He pushes Steve gently towards a chair. Bucky can ask him later what went wrong--some contract left unnegotiated, maybe even some money lost, he can guess if nothing else--after he teases and coaxes him to a better mood; once Steve has worked out his tension he'll sigh and pull him close and the story will come out. There's no need to push for it now. He makes him sit, slides his fingers against Steve's cheek for a moment, tugs his tie loose and slides it silky and smooth from around his throat. He undoes the top button of his dress shirt, removes his cufflinks for him one by one. ] There, now you look more comfortable. Brandy or wine?
no subject
It's been a little while after he agreed to their contract, and things had never been better between them. Bucky finally belongs to him alone, and there's nothing more than he can ever want -- they're happy together, and Steve gives him everything that he can ever want, respecting and loving him all the same.
He sighs and lets himself be maneuvered into his chair, still caught up on the irritations of the workplace, the anger that still simmers under his skin -- what is he going to do without you, Bucky? He runs his fingers through his short blond hair, and shakes his head. ]
Just get me a wine, Buck. And sit with me.
no subject
[ He knows where Steve keeps the best wines, where there's a Cotes du Rhone they opened a couple of nights ago when they sat out on the balcony in the twilight, as the sky darkened and the city lit up beneath them, the Eiffel Tower glowing in the distance like a dream. Steve filled his glass again and again until Bucky was swaying; he carried him to bed and fucked him slowly and sweetly into the mattress until he begged for completion. He knows he's Steve's kept boy, he knows this is what he agreed to when he signed their contract, to belong to him utterly, to take his cock anytime, anywhere he desires, but Steve isn't just a client anymore, Steve is his lover and Bucky grows more and more helplessly attached to him every day, every moment they spend together. He never expected to find himself here with him, to feel so loved and fulfilled.
There's just enough left in the bottle for a single glass, and Bucky brings it to Steve, wondering if the scent and taste will remind him of that night on the balcony, the ease and sweetness between them. Sit with me, Steve said, and Bucky had deliberately put him in one of the single armchairs; he's not going to sit anywhere out of his reach, so after he hands him the wine he simply slides down to the floor beside him, leaning against one of his thighs. There's a faint smile on his face, a glow of helpless adoration in his chest. ]
Better?
no subject
His jaw is set, still, despite his lover's best intentions, and he runs his fingers through Bucky's dark hair, letting the strands spill through them, petting him when he settles by his feet like an obedient kitten. ]
A little. It's been an infuriating day. [ He exhales, and takes a sip, setting it to the side, frowning a little. ] You're the only good thing that happened today.
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[ Bucky's voice is still low, soft, as though to coax Steve into an equally gentle frame of mind. He leans into Steve's hand in his hair, looking up at him--jaw still set, anger and tension in the lines of his body, yet his fingers in Bucky's hair are tender. He's never touched him with the intent to harm, and Bucky's never felt anything but love and kindness in his hands, even when he's tormenting him, taking him apart. ] I want you to have only good things, Steve. [ He kisses the palm of Steve's hand when it's in reach. ] But I want to be the best thing that happens to you.
[ He turns his head and rubs his cheek against Steve's inner thigh, against the luxurious fabric of his tailored suit trousers. Bucky nudges further between his legs, inquisitive, and leans his head down to Steve's lap, resting his cheek over the bulge of his cock. ] Can't have you like this. I'm here for your pleasure, Steve. What would it say about me if I let you go on feeling infuriated? [ Bucky turns his head and brushes his lips to Steve's cock through the fabric of his trousers, tracing the shape of it slowly. ] Drink your wine.
no subject
His cock is twitching, responding to Bucky like it always would, and he shifts in his seat, aware of his lover's plans and more than happy to welcome them. ]
You are the best thing that happens to me. [ All the time, always; Steve will swear on that. He takes another sip of his wine, pleased with him as he obeys those instructions, curious to see what he does next. Stroking his hair absently, he plays with his glass. ] Partners in the other firms messed up on what's supposed to be an easy, straightforward deal.
no subject
And you're thinking that if you had taken charge that never would have happened. [ Bucky suggests, easing open the buckle of Steve's belt, unfastening his trousers. ] But you can't be everywhere at once. [ He draws Steve's cock out to the open air, still mostly soft but harder than it was a few moments ago. Bucky presses his lips to the head, closing his eyes, and takes it a little into his mouth, sucking gently. His eyes lift up to Steve's face as he pulls free after a few moments, letting the spit-slicked crown tap against his chin. ] You'll fix it tomorrow. You'll make some calls, go see them in person if you have to.
[ He ducks his head for a moment to press his mouth to Steve's hip in a soft kiss. It's a strange feeling, this sudden shyness, especially for a whore. ] I'll come with you, if you want.
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He's looking forward to it, to have him be a distraction from his problems. Bucky is trusted, beloved, and Steve exhales quietly when he feels his trousers being unfastened, the tip of it in that sinfully sweet mouth. Oh, he's good. He's so good at this, and Steve only smiles down at him, cupping his face when he presses a kiss to his hipbone.
Steve adores him, and he doesn't hide it, his eyes kind and loving as he swipes his thumb and guides him firmly back to his cock. ] It'll bore you, Buck. I know corporate politics aren't your thing. It's barely even mine. [ He pushes his cock into his mouth, commanding, quietly guiding him to suckle, to nurse at his cock. ]
But still... what am I ever going to do without you?
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Bucky nurses softly at Steve's cock, eyes drifting closed, letting it inch deeper and deeper into his mouth until it fully hardens. Soon he's trying valiantly to swallow around it--Bucky is good at deep-throating, practiced at it, but Steve's cock is something else, so dizzyingly huge, filling him up until tears sting his eyes and he's sure he's going to choke.
He swallows around it anyway, face buried in Steve's lap, determined to suckle and pleasure him until the burdens of the day drop off his shoulders and his only interest is Bucky, using his willing whore until he's satisfied. He draws off of him at last to breathe, to glance up at him and answer, eyes blown huge and dark and his lips red and swollen. ]
Don't ever have to find out. I'm yours, remember? [ Bucky nuzzles at his cock again and takes it into his mouth, bobbing his head and sucking devotedly. ]
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[ Steve adjusts and makes a soft noise of approval, of pleasure -- he loves it when Bucky does this so easily, so eagerly, when his throat closes over the thick, ruddy length of his cock like he'd been born to have it in his mouth. He hears the erotically obscene sounds of sucking, the way his lovely lips and tongue take him in, and the beauty of his face when he looks up at him.
Bucky is beloved above all else, pampered and used where Steve sees fit; and this is an understanding they both have with each other. He would fill him day after day, adore and pour every drop of seed into his waiting mouth or his hole, watching him be overwhelmed by his cock, or the force of his passions.
He reaches for his phone, looking away from Bucky to return a few texts -- if he wants Steve to pay attention to him, he's got to have to try harder. His thumb strokes over his lover's mouth absently, as if petting a cat. ] Mmm, that's nice.
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He suckles at Steve's cock like he was made for this, with fierce devotion, swallowing eagerly around the hot, rigid length that nudges into his throat. His cheeks hollow, lips wet and swollen as they slide up and down his shaft, as Bucky bobs his head in his lap, pressing down as deep as he can until his nose is buried in blond curls and his chin presses to Steve's balls. The musky, hot scent of Steve's body fills his lungs, arousing him until he aches, flushed all over. The flush deepens as Steve pets and praises him absently, reaching for his phone--a hot edge of humiliation sliding over him, a shamed kind of pleasure.
He loves being treated like Steve's pet, his plaything. A toy good for pleasure but little else, not worth any notice when he's down on his knees except for how good he is at bringing Steve off. His sweet little whore.
Bucky tries, he does his best for Steve's pleasure. Moans around his length for him, eyes closing in concentration as he sucks and licks, the heel of his hand kneading gently at Steve's balls. Working his mouth and throat around him, never letting him slip out, eager to feel him come, for a load of thick semen spilled down his throat. ]
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He knows that he's privileged, that Bucky could just as well say no, refuse him, but he doesn't. So he praises him, humiliates his precious little cockslut and gives him what he wants. He continues texting, but his hips jerk into his mouth as Bucky keeps his cock nice and wet and slick.
Gently tapping his cheek to make sure he's silent, he calls an associate. This time, however, his hand moves to Bucky's head, and Steve make sure to jerk his hips, fucking his pretty, pretty face hard, dick sliding down his throat over and over again. Quiet, lover. He's on the phone. ]
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He needs Steve's hand sliding into his hair, gripping as he starts to fuck his face in earnest, pushing Bucky down on his cock, pushing into his throat again and again. He moans before he remembers that Steve is on the phone, he wants him to be silent while he uses him, ruts into his mouth and his throat; Bucky fists himself desperately through his pants, swallowing around Steve's cock until tears wet his lashes. ]
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He could feel his sperm slide down his lover's throat, he could feel the intoxicating joy of Bucky's submission, his eagerness for him, and he's unable to help himself when he reaches down and brushes the tears from those long, beautiful eyelashes. And oh, just look at him like this, those sinfully red lips wrapped so tightly around his cock that it's impossible for Steve to breathe.
Steve cradles the back of his head when he spurts, spurts and spurts again, making his sweet little Bucky drink every drop before he ends the conversation with a sigh, tossing the phone to the side to focus on him. He slips out of his mouth with a pop, wet and half-hard, and he gently wipes his thumb over Bucky's bottom lip, regarding him with love, with kindness. ]
You did a fantastic job, Buck. Look at you, you've got your reward, haven't you? Did it taste good?
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He trembles and pants as Steve finishes his conversation and slides heavy from his mouth, his thumb catching the stains of seed on Bucky's swollen lips; his eyes are dark and hazy with need as he looks up at Steve, catching that thumb between gentle teeth. He licks at it with a shy tongue, flushed hot with shame and pleasure. Steve knows him so well, knows that making Bucky swallow his release is all the reward he could need, even if he's denied his own pleasure. ]
Yeah. [ His voice is soft as he nuzzles into Steve's hand like a pet seeking affection. ] I love the way you taste.
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It's an opulent, sleek and glitzy affair, the club darkened and the music pounding -- audible, but not overwhelming. This is the playpen of all the rich and powerful in the world, and Steve moves through them with ease, until he stops in the middle, before the eyes of patrons who were stirring in interest.
There are naked young men and women, collared and leashed, pets for their masters, and Steve simply kisses him softly, saying quietly in his ear. ]
Take all your clothes off.
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Everything surrounding them is sleek and expensive, the music a throbbing beat, champagne and liquor flowing freely, men and women dressed in their glittering best all around them: gorgeous and wealthy, every one, though there's no one here who comes close to Steve, Bucky thinks. No one else with his perfect, golden beauty, his gentle strength. As they thread their way through the club, Steve guiding him assuredly among the rich and powerful, he turns his head and presses hot, soft kisses to Steve's throat, nipping tenderly at his ear. Bucky wants him, and he can't wait until they're alone and he can get his hands on him.
It's only when they come to the center of the room, in a circular area set apart like a stage, and he sees the collared men and women kneeling naked at the feet of the club's patrons that Bucky realizes Steve has no intention of waiting until they're alone.
A hot flush hits his cheeks the moment Steve turns to kiss him and murmur in his ear, his eyes going wide and dark. Steve, he...he wants Bucky here, among these human pets, men and women who are so clearly here for the pleasure of their masters. He gives him one pleading glance, but Bucky swore to this, he promised himself to Steve whenever, wherever he wanted, and he wants so badly to be touched, he wants Steve's hands and mouth on him, his cock in him--there's a hot, shamed pleasure burning under his skin as he reaches for his jacket lapels with fingers that tremble faintly, wondering how far this will go. If he's here just to be looked at, or...
Right now he can feel himself being looked at as he shrugs out of his jacket and undoes the knot of his tie, can feel more and more eyes turning as he blushes hotter and methodically strips away each piece of clothing, taking him in with interested, covetous gazes, someone's new pet. ]
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Soon, when Bucky's naked and bared to the entire club, Steve signals his own pleasure at his obedience with a gentle hand on the small of his back. Look at him, this beauty, this man who has pledged himself so fully to him. He reaches into his pocket, draws out a collar dripping with exquisite diamonds, and fastens it onto his throat, kissing his ear when he's done.
Nothing but the very best.
His fingers move around him to wrap his fingers around his growing cock, claiming him before everyone present, before he draws away. Meanwhile, a staff picks up Bucky's discarded clothes, neatly folding it and setting it aside until he needs it again. Now, it's time for Bucky to be exposed to them all as his slut, his whore, his beloved fucktoy.
He starts towards one of the other booths and takes a seat with a few business associates, and gestures for his Bucky to get on his knees. ]
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Bucky shuts his eyes for a moment and then opens them again as Steve moves away, relief flooding him when he gestures for him to follow, even if he is to do it on his knees. He sinks down, legs shaking, face flushed hot with shame as he feels all those watching eyes at his back, as he crawls to Steve's side; he's sitting with his business partners, men Bucky has met before, shaken hands and talked with over drinks or in the midst of a glittering gala. They're looking at him too, admiring him. Seeing him as he truly is, as Steve's prized possession.
He lays his head against Steve's thigh and doesn't try to hide himself. Beneath the seething tangle of pleasure and humiliation there is pride, too, because he belongs to Steve, because Steve Rogers is a better man than any who have ever set foot in this room. Bucky knows it; Bucky would do injury to any man who dared to deny it. He loves him beyond anything, beyond his pride, beyond his own life, beyond everything he gave up to cross an ocean with Steve and be with him always.
Bucky turns and nuzzles into his lap, slowly, with soft, hot lips. Let them all watch, let them see how much he loves his master. ]
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Bucky's meant for all of this, and he gently pets him, running his fingers through his hair as he leans back, engages his business partners like it's the most natural thing in the world to have his sweetest whore pay attention to him. Pleasure coils in his spine, as does the fact that there is no one who doesn't turn to look at Bucky, to this man who so obediently takes to him without a word.
They want him, and Steve knows it, but he's secure in the fact that his lover has eyes for no one else. Tugging him closer, his cock pressing against the confines of his expensive pants, he presses into those lips. Bucky would get another lavish gift once they're done tonight -- and he'll be sure to reward him with affection, with love once they get home.
Tonight, here? Here, he's here as a prize. ]
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Steve tugs him closer so that he can feel the swell of his cock under the silky fabric of his pants, and Bucky obediently nuzzles against it, pressing soft, slow, hot kisses, tracing the shape of it with his lips. He's breathing in Steve's scent, the erotic musk of his arousal, his desire, and his entire body is trembling, eager for a taste. A part of him can't believe what he's doing, can't believe that he's naked on his knees with his face pressed into his lover's lap, a collar of glittering jewels clasped around his throat: as clearly a pet and a prize as any marking could make him, belonging utterly to Steve. Shame burns in his skin, stings his closed eyes, and under the humiliation there is such abject wanting, to be used, to exist only for Steve's pleasure.
Finally he reaches to undo Steve's belt with fingers that tremble slightly, needing no prompting. He knows exactly what's expected of him, his lips parting around the silky, broad head of Steve's cock as soon as he tugs it free of his trousers, his mouth sinking down on it, the heavy, delicious shaft filling him up, pressing down on his tongue. Someone's envious sigh isn't lost in his ears--look at him, Steve's beautiful whore, willing and eager for his master's pleasure. ]