Captain America Slash. Of God.
Title : The Small Man
Pairing : Bucky/Steve
Rating : R
Notes : Written for the kink meme.
Growing up, Bucky was the only one would could see past his weak exterior, and see the man within. Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean that Bucky always saw eye to eye with what Steve thought was the right course of action. The slightly older man would often chastise him when he did things that he considered ‘unsafe’ or just plain ‘idioitic’. But the harsh interactions would never change Steve’s mind set. It didn’t matter that he was weak, it didn’t matter that he was sickly, he didn’t have a point to prove, he just wanted to help.
The more times he saw the video of little Tommy picking up scraps of metal the more certain he was that he needed to do more. This war was bigger than him, and bigger than Bucky’s fears for his safety. He just needed to be out there and fighting against the Nazi bullies. And as much as Bucky tried to tell him that it wasn’t safe and that he wouldn’t be there to protect him, Steve’s mind was made up.
Bucky might have been the only person on the planet that really knew him, but that didn’t mean that he always knew what was right for him. The older man had told him to ride out the War, to enjoy being one of the few young men left in the city and to accept himself. Steve wanted to do none of those things.
Four times he had tried. Four times he had failed. Bucky was accepted the first time he applied - Steve’s third attempt. At night, when he closed his eyes all he could see was that God damn ‘4F’ stamp haunting him, telling him he wasn’t good enough to lay down his life; telling him that he wasn’t a real man.
He couldn’t even blame the doctors - they were just doing their job. But he just wished that someone would give him a chance.
His dad had only been five-seven, but he had taken down enough men to make him a local hero and he had saved three of his squadron when they were ambushed three miles from the front. That, however, was his father and though he had only been small he had, at least, been healthy enough to run for longer than ten minutes before his lungs gave out on him and he collapsed in an unceremonious heap. Or at least, Steve figured that he probably could have done, but since he had died before Steven could even remember. His mother said he had his father’s eyes, but that was little comfort when he was a sickly child and spent more time in hospital than anyone his age had any right to.
All through school he had been assured that he would grow, and yet, at the ripe old age of twenty four he stood no more than five-five on a good day and no matter how much he ate or how hard he tried to train his body still resembled that of a young adolescent. He thanked God almost daily that his mother had not lived to see the ‘man’ he had grown into.
Bucky had caught him once or twice, staring at himself in the mirror, trying to make himself appear bigger than he was. His over-sized hands skimming across his jutting bones as sad blue eyes registered just how weak he must appear to anyone else. No, he really couldn’t blame the Doctors. He couldn’t blame Bucky for his fears either. It was after days like that, that he cried himself to sleep.
Sometimes Bucky would crawl into bed with him, pull him close and rub comforting circles in between his small shoulder blades.
Once, just before he shipped out, Bucky had walked in on him but he had not walked out and his eyes bored into Steve, making his skin crawl. Hastily he had tried to cover himself, folding his arms across his meagre chest and turning away from his friend in shame. Almost instantaneously, Bucky covered the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Steve and turning him back towards the mirror.
Wordlessly, Bucky pulled the younger man’s arms down from his chest, exposing his body in all its pathetic glory. A deep reddish hue spread across Steve’s embarrassed body, betraying him in a whole new way. Bucky laughed, low in his throat, and rested his chin on top of the smaller man’s head and allowed his hands to wonder down the smooth skin to soft white waistband of his boxers.
This wasn’t the first time they had been intimate, (not that they had ever spoken about it), but it was certainly the most intense... and also the last. Steve watched as Bucky licked his lips whilst gently stroking his hand along his suddenly hard penis. Bucky hummed some old tune as he rhythmically stroked Steve to orgasm. Steve closed his eyes as his body betrayed him yet again and he came him a meek grown.
His work complete, Bucky kissed his friend on the top of his head and walked out of the room without uttering a single word. Leaving Steve feeling completely empty and yet horribly embarrassed.
***
If truth were told, Steve hadn’t thought of Bucky all that much after Doctor Erskine and Howard Stark had given him a body to match his warrior’s heart. Up until that point in his life, people hadn’t really paid him much attention, but now everyone seemed to want a piece of the man they had promoted to Captain America.
At first he had been disappointed with his role. He had become an experiment because he wanted to make a difference. He wanted to serve is country and he wanted to make the world a better place. But as time wore on he allowed himself to be convinced that he was working towards the war effort. He just allowed himself to be immersed in all the love and affection that his adoring audience threw his way and took comfort in the fact that whilst his situation was not ideal, he was not stuck feeling incapable.
That was until his tour brought him within five miles of the front line and he finally witnessed for himself what war did to men. He had a momentary strop about the fact that they had not accepted him for one of their own, but really what was he expecting? He was an over grown chorus girl. He had looked down at himself when he walked off the stage and realised just how much of an idiot he was.
And then Peggy had told him that those men contained the remains of the one-oh-seventh and his heart fell. He had been so preoccupied in himself, in this new world that had opened up to him that he had completely forgotten about Bucky.
From the moment that Colonel Phillips had confirmed that Bucky was one of the lost he had known exactly what he had to do.
Looking back, it all seemed like a dream. Honestly, when he had jumped out of the plane, he figured that he would probably wind up dead, it actually hadn’t occurred to him that he would walk out of the factory, not only alive, but in charge of nearly four hundred rescued troops. And even when he had found them all he could think about was Bucky, because once he became focused on achieving something, he was going to do it or die trying. That had always been his theory anyway.
And then he found him, lying, half conscious on the bed. The moment he had dragged him struggling to his feet, he had known things would be different.
“I thought you were dead,” he said ruefully.
“I thought you were smaller.” Bucky had said, his head still in a daze, and Steven had to swallow the lump in his throat.
By the time they had hiked the five miles back to the army base, Steve was beginning to think that he had probably made a mistake in jumping into things. Sure, it felt brilliant to have helped so many people, to have done what he had wanted to do for as long as he could remember, but on the flipside, standing shoulder to shoulder with Bucky he realised just how much he would miss the closeness they had once shared. It was odd to see Bucky looking up at him, although it was nice to hear him start the cheer.
For the next few days, Bucky was checked over thoroughly. Whatever experiments Zola had performed on him back at their base didn’t seem to have left any lasting effects, or so Steve had heard down the grapevine since he and Bucky had not had a chance to speak. Though, Steve couldn’t say he was sure that he wasn’t avoiding his oldest friend.
The more he thought about it the more sense it made. If Bucky had liked Steve the downtrodden kid from Brooklyn, then he certainly wouldn’t like Captain “America’s new hope” Rogers. He cursed himself for being so stupid.
And for the first time in his life, Steven Rogers wished he was that frail man he used to be.
They were soon shipped off the front line and transported back to London with Howard and Peggy. Two people who seemed to adore the Captain and who only served to point out that things were not what they were. Back in Brooklyn, no one would look twice at Steve, and he had become so accustomed to women ignoring him that now they did pay him attention he literally did not know what to do with himself -especially not when, women were ignoring Bucky - ladies’ man extraordinaire - in favour of him.
“I’m invisible,” Bucky said after Peggy had left them at the bar. “I’m turning into you... this is a horrible dream.” Steve swallowed; maybe it really was a horrible dream. Because however much he wanted that dance with Peggy, he wanted his Bucky back a thousand times as badly.
“Don’t take it so hard, maybe she’s got a friend.” He managed, slinking back to the bar and downing a stiff drink that had no effect whatsoever.
When he looked in the mirror these days he saw broad shoulders and powerful arms, leading down to a muscled stomach and, still, small hips. When he had first been changed he had spent half a day staring in disbelief at the man before him, he had flexed and posed and smiled as he watched the muscles shift behind his flawless skin. Now, he looked at himself, and drew his shoulders together, bent his back and tried to shrink to a more acceptable size. But once again his body betrayed him and toned muscles bulged and he saw no resemblance of the man he had watched be stroked to climax by Bucky all those months ago - a lifetime, really.
He had been so preoccupied in the mirror that he had not noticed that he was not alone until his friend appeared in the image before him. He turned to talk to him but Bucky placed his hands on his much-larger shoulders and held him so that he faced the mirror. Steve swallowed heavily, unsure of what was going on but willing to let Bucky lead him in this experiment.
The, now, shorter man pushed his hands under his friends armpits and pulled back his shoulders and straightened out his spine so that he could no longer rest his chin on his shoulder. Steve took a shaky breath and opened his mouth to speak but faltered causing his skin to redden in embarrassment.
Bucky laughed a warm and comforting sound in the otherwise silent room. His hands traced every ridge of muscle down Steve’s body, and his abs tensed slightly under their feather light touch.
The taller man’s body ached under the familiar touch and as hands worked their way down to his already hard cock he wondered what he had done to deserve such tenderness. This time as Bucky stroked him through the thin cotton material of his boxers, he could feel the older man’s own erection pressed against him. He bit his lip as he came, shutting his eyes and trying to commit the moment to memory.
But this time it didn’t end with him standing alone in silence, the familiar if unfamiliar feel of Bucky didn’t disappear as soon as it was over. Steve didn’t even realised he was holding his breath until Bucky kissed him lightly on his shoulder before turning his lips to his ear and speaking in a lust filled voice.
“You know, it was never your body that did it for me. It was always what was inside.” Bucky placed his hand over Steve’s heart, which was beating so fast that the Captain could barely hear what was being said to him. Bucky kissed him gently on his neck before Steve dared to turn around. Steve’s blue eyes met Bucky’s, there was a silent question implied and Bucky almost laughed. “Of course, it doesn’t hurt that you’re gorgeous.” He grinned, as he twisted his fingers into Steve’s hair and pulled his head down into a kiss.
Pairing : Bucky/Steve
Rating : R
Notes : Written for the kink meme.
Growing up, Bucky was the only one would could see past his weak exterior, and see the man within. Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean that Bucky always saw eye to eye with what Steve thought was the right course of action. The slightly older man would often chastise him when he did things that he considered ‘unsafe’ or just plain ‘idioitic’. But the harsh interactions would never change Steve’s mind set. It didn’t matter that he was weak, it didn’t matter that he was sickly, he didn’t have a point to prove, he just wanted to help.
The more times he saw the video of little Tommy picking up scraps of metal the more certain he was that he needed to do more. This war was bigger than him, and bigger than Bucky’s fears for his safety. He just needed to be out there and fighting against the Nazi bullies. And as much as Bucky tried to tell him that it wasn’t safe and that he wouldn’t be there to protect him, Steve’s mind was made up.
Bucky might have been the only person on the planet that really knew him, but that didn’t mean that he always knew what was right for him. The older man had told him to ride out the War, to enjoy being one of the few young men left in the city and to accept himself. Steve wanted to do none of those things.
Four times he had tried. Four times he had failed. Bucky was accepted the first time he applied - Steve’s third attempt. At night, when he closed his eyes all he could see was that God damn ‘4F’ stamp haunting him, telling him he wasn’t good enough to lay down his life; telling him that he wasn’t a real man.
He couldn’t even blame the doctors - they were just doing their job. But he just wished that someone would give him a chance.
His dad had only been five-seven, but he had taken down enough men to make him a local hero and he had saved three of his squadron when they were ambushed three miles from the front. That, however, was his father and though he had only been small he had, at least, been healthy enough to run for longer than ten minutes before his lungs gave out on him and he collapsed in an unceremonious heap. Or at least, Steve figured that he probably could have done, but since he had died before Steven could even remember. His mother said he had his father’s eyes, but that was little comfort when he was a sickly child and spent more time in hospital than anyone his age had any right to.
All through school he had been assured that he would grow, and yet, at the ripe old age of twenty four he stood no more than five-five on a good day and no matter how much he ate or how hard he tried to train his body still resembled that of a young adolescent. He thanked God almost daily that his mother had not lived to see the ‘man’ he had grown into.
Bucky had caught him once or twice, staring at himself in the mirror, trying to make himself appear bigger than he was. His over-sized hands skimming across his jutting bones as sad blue eyes registered just how weak he must appear to anyone else. No, he really couldn’t blame the Doctors. He couldn’t blame Bucky for his fears either. It was after days like that, that he cried himself to sleep.
Sometimes Bucky would crawl into bed with him, pull him close and rub comforting circles in between his small shoulder blades.
Once, just before he shipped out, Bucky had walked in on him but he had not walked out and his eyes bored into Steve, making his skin crawl. Hastily he had tried to cover himself, folding his arms across his meagre chest and turning away from his friend in shame. Almost instantaneously, Bucky covered the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Steve and turning him back towards the mirror.
Wordlessly, Bucky pulled the younger man’s arms down from his chest, exposing his body in all its pathetic glory. A deep reddish hue spread across Steve’s embarrassed body, betraying him in a whole new way. Bucky laughed, low in his throat, and rested his chin on top of the smaller man’s head and allowed his hands to wonder down the smooth skin to soft white waistband of his boxers.
This wasn’t the first time they had been intimate, (not that they had ever spoken about it), but it was certainly the most intense... and also the last. Steve watched as Bucky licked his lips whilst gently stroking his hand along his suddenly hard penis. Bucky hummed some old tune as he rhythmically stroked Steve to orgasm. Steve closed his eyes as his body betrayed him yet again and he came him a meek grown.
His work complete, Bucky kissed his friend on the top of his head and walked out of the room without uttering a single word. Leaving Steve feeling completely empty and yet horribly embarrassed.
***
If truth were told, Steve hadn’t thought of Bucky all that much after Doctor Erskine and Howard Stark had given him a body to match his warrior’s heart. Up until that point in his life, people hadn’t really paid him much attention, but now everyone seemed to want a piece of the man they had promoted to Captain America.
At first he had been disappointed with his role. He had become an experiment because he wanted to make a difference. He wanted to serve is country and he wanted to make the world a better place. But as time wore on he allowed himself to be convinced that he was working towards the war effort. He just allowed himself to be immersed in all the love and affection that his adoring audience threw his way and took comfort in the fact that whilst his situation was not ideal, he was not stuck feeling incapable.
That was until his tour brought him within five miles of the front line and he finally witnessed for himself what war did to men. He had a momentary strop about the fact that they had not accepted him for one of their own, but really what was he expecting? He was an over grown chorus girl. He had looked down at himself when he walked off the stage and realised just how much of an idiot he was.
And then Peggy had told him that those men contained the remains of the one-oh-seventh and his heart fell. He had been so preoccupied in himself, in this new world that had opened up to him that he had completely forgotten about Bucky.
From the moment that Colonel Phillips had confirmed that Bucky was one of the lost he had known exactly what he had to do.
Looking back, it all seemed like a dream. Honestly, when he had jumped out of the plane, he figured that he would probably wind up dead, it actually hadn’t occurred to him that he would walk out of the factory, not only alive, but in charge of nearly four hundred rescued troops. And even when he had found them all he could think about was Bucky, because once he became focused on achieving something, he was going to do it or die trying. That had always been his theory anyway.
And then he found him, lying, half conscious on the bed. The moment he had dragged him struggling to his feet, he had known things would be different.
“I thought you were dead,” he said ruefully.
“I thought you were smaller.” Bucky had said, his head still in a daze, and Steven had to swallow the lump in his throat.
By the time they had hiked the five miles back to the army base, Steve was beginning to think that he had probably made a mistake in jumping into things. Sure, it felt brilliant to have helped so many people, to have done what he had wanted to do for as long as he could remember, but on the flipside, standing shoulder to shoulder with Bucky he realised just how much he would miss the closeness they had once shared. It was odd to see Bucky looking up at him, although it was nice to hear him start the cheer.
For the next few days, Bucky was checked over thoroughly. Whatever experiments Zola had performed on him back at their base didn’t seem to have left any lasting effects, or so Steve had heard down the grapevine since he and Bucky had not had a chance to speak. Though, Steve couldn’t say he was sure that he wasn’t avoiding his oldest friend.
The more he thought about it the more sense it made. If Bucky had liked Steve the downtrodden kid from Brooklyn, then he certainly wouldn’t like Captain “America’s new hope” Rogers. He cursed himself for being so stupid.
And for the first time in his life, Steven Rogers wished he was that frail man he used to be.
They were soon shipped off the front line and transported back to London with Howard and Peggy. Two people who seemed to adore the Captain and who only served to point out that things were not what they were. Back in Brooklyn, no one would look twice at Steve, and he had become so accustomed to women ignoring him that now they did pay him attention he literally did not know what to do with himself -especially not when, women were ignoring Bucky - ladies’ man extraordinaire - in favour of him.
“I’m invisible,” Bucky said after Peggy had left them at the bar. “I’m turning into you... this is a horrible dream.” Steve swallowed; maybe it really was a horrible dream. Because however much he wanted that dance with Peggy, he wanted his Bucky back a thousand times as badly.
“Don’t take it so hard, maybe she’s got a friend.” He managed, slinking back to the bar and downing a stiff drink that had no effect whatsoever.
When he looked in the mirror these days he saw broad shoulders and powerful arms, leading down to a muscled stomach and, still, small hips. When he had first been changed he had spent half a day staring in disbelief at the man before him, he had flexed and posed and smiled as he watched the muscles shift behind his flawless skin. Now, he looked at himself, and drew his shoulders together, bent his back and tried to shrink to a more acceptable size. But once again his body betrayed him and toned muscles bulged and he saw no resemblance of the man he had watched be stroked to climax by Bucky all those months ago - a lifetime, really.
He had been so preoccupied in the mirror that he had not noticed that he was not alone until his friend appeared in the image before him. He turned to talk to him but Bucky placed his hands on his much-larger shoulders and held him so that he faced the mirror. Steve swallowed heavily, unsure of what was going on but willing to let Bucky lead him in this experiment.
The, now, shorter man pushed his hands under his friends armpits and pulled back his shoulders and straightened out his spine so that he could no longer rest his chin on his shoulder. Steve took a shaky breath and opened his mouth to speak but faltered causing his skin to redden in embarrassment.
Bucky laughed a warm and comforting sound in the otherwise silent room. His hands traced every ridge of muscle down Steve’s body, and his abs tensed slightly under their feather light touch.
The taller man’s body ached under the familiar touch and as hands worked their way down to his already hard cock he wondered what he had done to deserve such tenderness. This time as Bucky stroked him through the thin cotton material of his boxers, he could feel the older man’s own erection pressed against him. He bit his lip as he came, shutting his eyes and trying to commit the moment to memory.
But this time it didn’t end with him standing alone in silence, the familiar if unfamiliar feel of Bucky didn’t disappear as soon as it was over. Steve didn’t even realised he was holding his breath until Bucky kissed him lightly on his shoulder before turning his lips to his ear and speaking in a lust filled voice.
“You know, it was never your body that did it for me. It was always what was inside.” Bucky placed his hand over Steve’s heart, which was beating so fast that the Captain could barely hear what was being said to him. Bucky kissed him gently on his neck before Steve dared to turn around. Steve’s blue eyes met Bucky’s, there was a silent question implied and Bucky almost laughed. “Of course, it doesn’t hurt that you’re gorgeous.” He grinned, as he twisted his fingers into Steve’s hair and pulled his head down into a kiss.