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Bucky’s had worse days in his life, but this has to be up there.
He’d known it was going to be bad when the asshole Alpha Starbucks barista had misspelled his name as ‘Chucky’. However, he’d limited it to his technology not working properly, or a colleague being annoying.
Bucky hadn’t anticipated being captured by a supervillain during his bathroom break and being kept hostage for six hours in a crappy apartment near Newark. Or being surprised just an hour ago with an injection of truth serum that would make him give all the Avengers secrets to said villain—which is thankfully yet to kick in.
When he hears a crash, followed by a man yelping, he allows himself to relax.
There’s some plus points to working with the Avengers, and having a subdermal tracking device. Having them as your own personal rescue squad just about makes up for when they act like assholes, or break the technology that Bucky and the team work for months on.
“Bucky!”
Bucky breathes in, taking a deep draw of the addictive scent that is Steve Rogers. A deep sandalwood, with something warmer and smokier, it’s a smell that Bucky can’t get enough of. Bucky had started working at Stark Industries three years, seven months, and four days ago. His crush on Steve Rogers had started about a day later, when he’d walked onto the tech floor with that smile of his, and those brilliant blue eyes.
And now Bucky’s the Omega Damsel in Distress. Fuck.
“I’m here!” he yells, moving away from the door of the closet he’s been imprisoned in. Steve’s smart, incredibly smart, but he’s not the most subtle when it comes to rescuing. Why unlock a door when you can barrel through it?
As expected, the door splinters inwards and Bucky throws his arm over his eyes.
“Took you long enough,” he grouses as he gets to his feet and brushes himself down. This close, Steve’s scent makes his senses reel and he tries to ignore it. He’s very thankful for his blockers right now, and that working for Stark means he can afford the expensive kind. “I was expecting you hours ago.”
Steve huffs a laugh. He’s barely broken a sweat and looks sinful in the stealth suit. It’s Bucky’s favorite: it’s navy and clings, as much as a tactical uniform can, to the length and breadth of Steve’s body, and the sight of it always turns Bucky’s brain to mush. “I can leave you here if you want.”
“I don’t want,” Bucky replies. “Who was this idiot anyway?”
“He’s been on Nat’s radar for a while,” Steve explains, as the two of them walk back through the apartment. “We weren’t sure what his angle was, or if he even had one. If we’d known that he was planning on targeting you—”
“Why would you have?” Bucky interrupts, driven by an innate Omega need to reassure the Alpha. “I’m just a tech, Steve. I’m nobody special.”
“You’re one of the best techs we’ve got,” Steve says, his voice echoing in the stairwell as they take the stairs down. “Tony talks about you all the time.”
“He does?”
Steve nods. “He does,” he confirms. “And you’re plenty special. Now let’s get you in the car, and over to the Tower. We need to get you in the medbay and checked out.”
“Are you fucking kidding? Tony fucking Stark built this building, why is the goddamned elevator stuck now?” Bucky grumbles as they lurch to a halt. As if his day—hell, his week—hadn’t been bad enough, he was now stuck in a goddamned elevator that was still playing obnoxious Christmas music, and he was stuck in here with Steve goddamned Rogers. Because clearly the universe had it out for him for some reason.
“Easy there, Buck. I know it’s been a rough day, but just relax. I’m sure it’ll be moving again soon.”
Bucky suppresses a shiver as Steve’s deep voice rumbles through the small space. It’s bad enough that Steve calls him Buck all the time, and walks around looking the way he does with that damned jaw of righteousness and his shoulder-to-waist ratio and just exuding all the calm confidence of an Alpha. But now he’s stuck in here with him, and Bucky’s nose is just full sandalwood and cashmere and he’s only just so strong, and it’s simply a matter of time before he embarasses himself beyond repair in here.
He suppresses a groan and hits the ‘72’ button again. It’s the medical floor, and Bucky just wants to get there, be given whatever the antidote is, and then go home again. To a place that doesn’t smell of delicious Alpha.
The elevator car doesn’t move.
“Can’t you talk to the building?” he asks Steve, slanting a look his way.
“JARVIS, why are we being held up?” Steve asks, his eyes still on Bucky.
“Sir decided to upgrade the elevators this week. There has been a shut down of the system until the new software is installed. Your badge attached to this suit gives you undercover protocols and therefore you did not register as a prioritized override. I apologize for the delay, Captain, and Engineer Barnes.”
Bucky growls and presses the button again.
He can’t be stuck in a lift with Steve. Not when he feels jittery like this. Like his feelings are on the tip of his tongue and just waiting to be spilled to an unsuspecting audience of one.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“No, I feel like I’m about to do something stupid.”
No talking, he tells himself sternly. Talking will lead to you having to quit your job for sexually propositioning Captain America.
“Hey, everything is going to be fine.” Steve’s hand covers his in what Bucky assumes is meant to be comfort but feels like torture. With his strong grip and—nngh. Bucky can’t help but think about what that grip might feel like on his neck. While they fuck. No, dangerous, abort.
“But stop banging on the buttons,” Steve continues, unaware of Bucky’s inner plight. “It’s not their fault. How’d you like it if I was banging on you?”
“Yes, please.”
The words are past his lips before he can even think about stopping them, and he slaps his free hand over his mouth, eyes wide as he stares up at Steve.
“Oh really?” One eyebrow quirks and Steve’s scent spikes, a spicier tone starting to fill the air between them. “Something you want to tell me, Buck?”
NO! his brain shouts, but his mouth is moving regardless.
“I want you to bang me sixteen ways from Sunday and I have since the day I met you and I probably am in love with you and now I’ll have to quit my job for being so inappropriate because that stupid guy gave me a truth serum that’s only just working now and I’m sorry for making things weird but I swear I didn’t tell him anything about the Avengers before you got there and rescued me, like in a fantasy I’ve thought about a lot.”
“Well. That’s… a lot of somethings.”
“Yeah. Yeah, it is.” Bucky looks down at his feet. “Can you let go of my hand please? So I can go curl up in the corner waiting to die from embarrassment?”
“What if I like holding it?”
Bucky’s head jerks up at that, and he meets Steve’s gaze head-on. “You… what?”
“What if I’ve wanted you, as well, since I met you three years, seven months, and three days ago, and the day you started wearing the heavy duty blockers was the worst day of my life?”
His mouth drops open. Steve… But… Steve?! “But you never…”
“Bucky. I’m Captain America. I can’t just go around propositioning Tony’s techs. Especially when they make the gadgets that keep me safe. No matter how delicious they smell.”
“No, you’re Steve Rogers and you’re human, too.”
Bucky watches as Steve’s pupils dilate. That spicy edge to his scent intensifies, and then before he knows it he’s being pushed up against the wall of the elevator, caged in by Steve’s bulk. He whimpers, locking his knees to keep his legs under him, and instinctually tips his chin up, exposing his neck. With a growl, Steve buries his nose against the scent gland just below Bucky’s ear.
“Mmmm, there you are,” he rumbles, inhaling deeply. “When I heard that you’d been taken, I damn near lost my mind. Sam was all set to come get you and I wouldn’t let him. That’s why I was delayed; I was down in D.C. when I got his call. Left Secretary Ross without a word.”
The light stubble on Steve’s cheek rubs against Bucky’s jaw as he speaks, and he gasps. He brings his hands up, clutching at Steve’s massive arms, and sternly telling himself not to comment on how big they are. Steve lifts his head and meets Bucky’s eyes.
“JARVIS,” Steve calls. “How much longer on the work?”
“I estimate it will take approximately another fifteen minutes and forty-three seconds, sir.”
“I want you to lock down this car. Don’t move us even after the work is done, until I say so. That’s an order, not to be countermanded without my express permission. Authorization code 023-AH Delta.”
“Very well, Captain.”
“Steve?” Bucky asks, confused but also incredibly turned on, because if Steve is thinking about what Bucky thinks he’s getting at… And he’s using authorization codes that Bucky’s never even heard of…
“I am not waiting a minute longer for this,” he answers, and then he closes the distance between them and Bucky’s head spins because Steve is kissing him, holy shit, this is actually happening.
“I’m not dreaming, am I?” he pants when they finally part for some much needed air. “Do you want to pinch me? So I know for sure?”
“Not a dream, sweetheart,” Steve purrs, and Bucky practically melts in response. Large hands grab his ass firmly and lift him as though he weighs nothing. Bucky wraps his legs around Steve’s ridiculously small waist, and Steve grinds against him, a steady pace that winds Bucky’s lust up to a fever pitch. “And how about I touch you instead of pinching that ass of yours. You tell me to stop and I will. Don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I can’t read you well because of these damned blockers.”
“God, no, don’t stop! Are you kidding me? This is so fucking hot, I can’t believe you want to fuck me in an elevator. This is like one of my ultimate fantasies come to life. I’ve only ever seen this in porn.”
Steve chuckles while Bucky inwardly cringes.
“Fucking truth serum,” he grumbles.
“I want to be able to scent you. To spread you out on my bed and take you apart until you can’t remember your own name. I want your slick all over my face and your scent on my sheets. I want to drown in you.”
Bucky whines into Steve’s kiss as his body responds, growing wet at Steve’s words.
“Are you on birth control? I don’t have anything on me.”
“Implant,” he breathes.
It’s all the permission Steve needs, apparently, because once the word is out of his mouth there’s hands at his waist and his pants are being undone and pulled down his thighs just enough to expose his ass.
It’s so much like a scene in a porno that Bucky can’t believe it’s happening. To him. With Steve. Still, he moans, deep and long, when two of Steve’s long fingers push inside him.
“So fucking wet for me already. Such a good boy.”
Bucky makes an extremely undignified noise that betrays how much he liked hearing that—as if the increase of slick wasn’t a dead giveaway already. Steve’s answering growl tells Bucky that he knows exactly what is going on in Bucky’s head. Steve doesn’t need any sort of truth serum to pick up on that particular kink.
Steve shifts Bucky up a little higher and holds him against the wall with his chest. At first Bucky can’t figure out why, but when Steve’s hands leave his body entirely he understands—Steve is undoing his own pants.
When his hands return, he’s driving three fingers into Bucky and letting him slide down the wall a bit, and then he feels the blunt pressure of Steve’s cock as his fingers slide out once again.
They groan in unison as Bucky sinks onto the hot length of Steve.
“Fuck,” Steve hisses. “So goddamned tight.”
“I mean, look at the angle you’ve got me at,” Bucky laughs shakily, gasping as his body gets used to him. He’s slick enough to take him, but the angle makes him feel huge. “My legs are fucking trapped in my pants, for fuck’s sake.”
“You love it though.”
Bucky moans again as Steve’s hands spread him wide, gripping his ass while sliding him slowly up and down his cock, presumably waiting for a sign from Bucky that he’s ready for this.
“Yeah, I do,” he manages. “But, God, I can’t do this with Christmas music playing. Well, I can, but—uh, JARVIS, do you have access to my phone? I assume that you do. Bring up one of my playlists or something, please? So I don’t end up with an inappropriate boner whenever I hear ‘Deck the Halls’ in the future?”
“Certainly, Mr. Barnes.”
Steve laughs, and Bucky nearly dies when the music shifts abruptly to his goddamned horny times playlist of all things, which he usually uses during his heats. He’s not so sure that JARVIS isn’t actually a human, because that asshole has too much of a sense of humor as Pony starts playing.
“Interesting music you listen to, Bucky.”
“Shut up and fuck me.”
Bucky threads his fingers through Steve’s hair and pulls him in for a kiss. It’s hot as fuck, the slide of Steve’s tongue against his own, the desperate way that they come together. Steve drives up into him relentlessly, and it’s like every jerk-off fantasy come to life—the two of them, still clothed, fucking desperately in an elevator of all places, the heady smell of Steve’s arousal clouding the air around them.
It’s too much of a sensory overload. Bucky’s orgasm surprises him, and without warning he’s crying out and spilling against both of their stomachs, clenching around Steve, who purrs his approval.
“There you go, sweetheart. So good. God, it’s like you’re made for me, taking my cock like a champ, like a fuckin’ dream, I swear.”
Impossibly, Steve’s pace picks up after Bucky’s orgasm, the elevator filled with their heavy breathing, slapping, sweat-dampened skin, and the soundtrack to Magic Mike.
“You want it, sweetheart? You ready for me to knot you?”
Bucky doesn’t need the truth serum to reply honestly. He’s staring at Steve, those darkened blue eyes, the pink flush of his skin. He’s not sure what he’s done to deserve this but he’d do it again and again.
“Fuck, yes, please, fill me.”
Steve grunts and his grip on Bucky tightens. He won’t be surprised if there’s two hand-shaped bruises on his ass cheeks later, and fuck knows how he’ll manage to sit tomorrow, but right now he doesn’t care, because Steve’s scent is spiking and then he can feel it, the growing thickness at the base of Steve’s cock.
Steve drives into him with a rumble, deep and primal, and as his knot fills, Bucky comes again from the pressure on his prostate. He can feel Steve’s cock pulsing as he clamps down on it, filling him with his come.
Bucky drops his head forward, resting his forehead on the top of Steve’s head, which is pressed into his chest.
As they come back to themselves, waiting for Steve’s knot to go down, Bucky pants wetly.
“That was by far the best sex of my entire life. Can we have more of it?” he asks, wanting to slap himself as soon as he says it. “Shit, I didn’t mean to get heavy. I mean, I did but—”
“You’re not getting heavy,” Steve reassures him, kissing his jaw. Even now he’s holding them up effortlessly. “And even if you were, I have super strength, remember?”
Bucky hums happily, letting himself relax. “Not what I meant. But… You’d want to?” he presses, needing to know for sure that this hasn’t been a figment of his imagination. And that somehow, impossibly, Steve really cares about him. “Do this again?”
“Did you miss the part where I’ve been in love with you ever since I saw you?”
Bucky feels himself blush. “But you could have anybody.”
“And I want you—”
“Sir, I thought it was prudent to tell you that the engineers are considering climbing the shaft to get to your elevator car. I have referred them to Mr. Stark, and informed him of your use of the authorization code.”
“Oh my god. Oh my god, we had sex in an elevator. At work,” Bucky mutters, shrugging himself out of Steve’s hold enough to pull his clothes together. Steve lets him down reluctantly and Bucky winces as he feels come drip out of him, along with the remnants of his slick. “My boss is going to know we fucked.”
“He’s going to know anyway,” Steve points out. “Seeing as we’re going to start dating.”
“Yeah?”
Steve pulls him close and kisses him deeply. Bucky sways towards him, unable to do anything but drown in his kisses and scent. “Yeah.”
And as they ascend to Steve’s apartment floor to get cleaned up—he’s going to need to borrow one of Steve’s shirts and he hasn’t even begun to think about his lower half yet—before Bucky’s medical check-in, Christmas music faintly playing in the elevator once again, Bucky can’t help but think that his day hasn’t been so bad after all.
fin.