Lean On Me

Steve finds Bucky in the condiments aisle. He’s standing still, his plastic shopping basket hanging limp in one hand as he stares at the shelves laid out in front of him. There’s a blank, overwhelmed expression on his face, and Steve starts getting worried. Bucky’s shaking a little bit, the way he does when he feels his control slipping.

As Steve comes up along aside him, Bucky shoots him a helpless look. “There’s too many choices,” he says. He makes an aborted gesture towards the shelves full of different varieties of peanut butter.

Steve has never quite understood what the difference between regular peanut butter and natural peanut butter is, but he’s had longer to cope with all of that than Bucky has. The best thing to do is to get them out of here as fast as possible. He grabs the nearest jar of Jif with the fewest number of extraneous words on it and tosses it into Bucky’s basket. “Come on,” Steve says. “We need to make sure we get Sam some Clif bars or he’s going to be cranky later.”

The relieved smile Bucky shoots him breaks Steve’s heart.

---

“It’s okay, you know,” Steve says, as they open the front door to the new place they share with Sam. Steve’s carrying two bags. Bucky’s only carrying one. Bucky has been frowning since they left the Shop ’n’ Stop, and Steve suspects that he knows why that is. “It’s all new. It happens.”

Bucky shakes his head, clearly unwilling to hear him out. “I-- I want to be more ready for all this.” He’s still sensitive to how hard he’d fought back before he’d fully recovered his memories. It leaves him vulnerable in odd places. The strangest things can set him off. “It was easier when I just had a name and a timeline.”

It always gets real fucked up real quick when Bucky starts talking like that, so Steve rests a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, trying to stop that train of thought before it starts. “Hey,” he says. “Some things just take time.” He presses a kiss to Bucky’s temple, rests a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky clutches his hand, tight enough that it almost starts to hurt. His eyes are fixed on an undefined point on the floor. His body is starting to shake again. Steve knew it wouldn’t be easy, but some days, Bucky terrifies the shit out of him. Bucky says, “Promise?”

“Yeah, Buck. I promise,” Steve says. “C’mere.”

He draws Bucky into a full kiss, preventing him from curling into himself the way Steve knows he wants to. Bucky leans into it, mashing their lips together with a ferocity that still takes Steve by surprise.

Bucky’s hands slide underneath the hem of Steve’s t-shirt, his palms a study in contrasts where they’re pressed against the skin of his back, warm flesh and cool metal. Steve can feel the heat build low in his belly, a gentle hum of desire.

“I want--” Bucky says. His eyes are dark, and his breath is deeper than usual. It gets like this sometimes, and he needs to ground himself in the physical so he doesn’t get lost in his head. Steve is always happy to give this to him, always willing to show Bucky that yes, he’s here, he’s safe, he’s loved.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “We can do that.”

---

Upstairs in their bedroom, Bucky gets rough with Steve’s clothes, tugging at them until they manage to get them off entirely.

“Slow down,” Steve says with a laugh. “We don’t have to rush.” Sam’s out for the day, and everyone else knows better than to show up without calling ahead.

Bucky rolls his eyes, but he does slow down, lets Steve take the lead. They take their time getting Bucky’s t-shirt over his head, getting his belt unbuckled. Steve presses kisses against Bucky’s shoulders, his neck, his cheeks.

“Love you,” Steve murmurs, loud enough for Bucky’s ears, because Bucky needs to hear it.

They get Bucky’s pants off, and then they’re naked. The sight Bucky’s metallic arm always makes Steve’s stomach flip unpleasantly, a reminder of what he’s had to suffer through. Steve’s never sure how to touch it, and Bucky’s hyper aware of his discomfort, and that just makes everything tense and weird in ways they never were before. But they’re working on those parts, the parts where their issues rub raw against each other, and Steve likes to think it’s getting better.

He grabs Bucky’s metal wrist and pulls him over to the bed. Steve falls back on the mattress so that Bucky can climb on top of him. He likes this, the way Bucky’s weight presses down on him, their legs tangling together. For all that they’re not that same people they were in 1943, they can still do this, and it will still mean what it’s always meant.

Bucky kisses him again. His hard cock is pressed against Steve’s hip. Steve wraps his arms around Bucky’s shoulders bringing him close. Bucky shifts his head, presses a kiss against Steve’s jaw, thrusting his hips down. They’d fumbled their way through this as kids, awkward and unsure of their bodies, and now it’s a comfort, as easy as pie.

Steve arches up. His fingers dig into Bucky’s hair. He makes an embarrassing grunting noise as his cock rubs against Bucky’s own, hot, hard, and perfect.

“C’mon, Buck,” Steve gasps.

Bucky makes a soft moan against Steve’s neck. “Yeah,” he says.

Things speed up. Bucky grabs hold of Steve’s shoulders and ruts down. They kiss some more, messy and sloppy, teeth clicking together. Bucky catches Steve’s lower lip between his teeth.

It’s too much and not enough all at once. Steve flips them over so that Bucky’s underneath him. Bucky likes it -- needs it, really -- more than he’d ever admit out loud, but Steve’s known him long enough that even with the new stuff, Steve can still tell when something settles Bucky’s nerves.

Steve grinds their hips together, feeling the way Bucky’s hard enough to be leaking between them, and Steve is too. It’s wet, slippery and messy. Bucky keeps making these soft, desperate noises, his fingers digging into Steve’s back. Steve’s skin feels like it’s buzzing.

The orgasm builds from the base of his spine. “Buck,” he gasps. “I’m going to--”

Bucky doesn’t say anything, just clutches tighter, pushes up with his heels, bites down on Steve’s neck, and comes hard.

The pain is a bright spark, lighting up Steve’s nerve endings. He follows after, shuddering as he comes.

Steve lets himself collapse to one side of Bucky, still breathing hard. He tugs Bucky closer, keeping them in contact. His throat feels tight for a moment, and this is how he wants to speak, to tell Bucky that he’ll be okay, that they’ll make it through this, because they’re in this together.

Bucky clears this throat. “I-- thank you,” he says. He tucks his face into Steve’s neck.

Steve wraps an arm around him and doesn’t let go.