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(Might make more sense if you read the original drabble first!)
Gale comes to slowly.
The room is filled with light bleeding through the thin curtains as he blinks his eyes open, right on the verge of falling back to sleep immediately despite it having to be late in the morning based on the light. He forces himself to cling to awakeness even if his eyes don’t stay open, the soft bed underneath him foreign, the pillow between his cheek and the arm snaked under it significantly better quality than he’s used to.
He manages to open his eyes again and take in the huge bedroom and the huge bed with white sheets he’s in. The memories of yesterday start flowing back to him as he becomes aware of his body, the slight ache that feels comforting as it reaffirms him it was real. Still on his side, cheek mushed to the soft pillow, he moves his hand closer enough to see the ring, the gold and the diamond shining in the light. He still can’t quite believe Bucky got something so fancy for him.
Bucky. The thought of his husband — his husband !!! — makes him blush and press his face deeper into the pillow. He can practically feel his hands on him despite the bed being sadly empty right now, the way his gentle touch had guided and played him around last night well enough to make Gale forget to be nervous. He can feel the ghost of his lips on his cheeks, on his mouth, on his neck and collarbones; his hands feeling up his sides, his back, his ass, his thighs; the strech of him, the fullness of him in his body and in his heart.
Gale thinks he might be an addict now, because nothing had prepared him for the joy, the delight of it, and he resents his parents for denying this freedom in his own skin for so long, trying to make this a vice, a sin in his mind; he longs for Bucky’s touch as his salvation, as another, brighter truth about himself.
He turns to his back and streches his arms, and that’s when the door opens, and Bucky waltzes back in. He’s carrying a tray, but once he realizes Gale is awake he places it on the nightstand on his side and climbs to the bed to nuzzle his face, to kiss him chastly.
”Morning, beloved,” he murmus to Gale’s lips, and he can’t help but swoon in the blush that is sure to cover him by now, ”you look so beautiful even in your sleep, all relaxed and happy, your hair even makes a golden halo in the pillows. I could’ve just stayed staring at you ’till you woke, darling.” Gale bites his lip, pleased by the sweet talking, and lifts a hand to John’s cheek, running a thumb on soft skin under his eye.
”Then for what possible reason did you get up and abandon me here for?” he asks teasingly, butterflies in his belly as John reacts by laughing and turning to kiss his palm. ”I went to get you breakfast. In case you weren’t feeling like going to the hall and being around all the staff. I wanted to give you a chance to awake with just the two of us, it was a big day yesterday after all.”
John apparently already knows to read his mind, because he could easily be freaked out now, but somehow he only feels calm and content with Bucky near. He feels like words can’t express how he feels so instead he sits up a bit to kiss him, still slightly unsure but getting better already. Bucky kisses him back enthusiastically to his delight, and pushes away the robe he has worn in his quest to the kitchens, leaving him as naked as Gale is under the covers.
Bucky pushes him back to his back, and they kiss for a while there lazily, matching the slow morning around them. The blanket Gale slept under is dipped all the way down to his hips, barely covering his crotch, definitely showing his abs and one thigh completely, but this doesn’t seem to be about fast release, and Bucky doesn’t take the baits, only kisses him softly and eventually places his big palm on his abdomen, spreading his fingers and caressing the skin covered in lovebites with slow, careful touch.
Gale wants.
He’s sore and satisfied to his bones, but he still wants more. More of John’s hands on him, more of firsts, more of the same. He wants to feel as one with him again, wants his world to be reduced to sensations, of being taken care of, of being protected and safe. He makes a keening sound to the kiss and turns to face him better, so that they lay side by side on the bed, getting more tangled in each other.
John humms to the kiss in return before pulling back, a content smile on his face, his hand still running up and down his side, almost sliding underneath the sheet to reach his ass but always changing the direction just before. Gale tries to buck into it, and John laughs at him.
”I love you, and I love how eager you are for me, lover ,” he starts with a voice made low by the morning, making Gale shiver, ”but we have the rest of your lives now, to enjoy each other, and make no mistake, I intend to enjoy you every possible way, on every available surface in this house, in every known position, and once we’ve exhausted ourselves of the house I’d take you amongst the flowers of the garden where you belong and have you there as well, anywhere and everywhere as long as I have the honor of being the one you want to share your beauty with.”
The words are like wine warming his belly, making him purr and throw himself more into John’s space, pressing his reddened cheeks to the crook of his husband’s — his husband!!! — neck and wrapping arms around him. Bucky kisses the top of his locks and continues the soothing motions of his hand now on his back. ”But I also wanted to mention,” he continues, ”that just because we have the rest of our lives to do this, I don’t want you to think that’s the only thing I want to do with you.”
Contrary to his words (at least in Gale’s opinion) he starts to kiss softly down his shoulder. ”So Mr. Egan-” and oh, oh , how his new name makes him want to giggle helplessly, Mr Egan , Gale Egan, it feels like he never had any other name but John’s, and it feels so right, a solid sign of having left behind the unloving home and entering this new life, this new him, named by his love, Mr Egan … ”would you let me first treat you to breakfast in our bed to remind you you’ll never go hungry?” A kiss to his collarbone. ”To take you for a walk to remind you this house is not a cage?” A kiss under his jaw. ”Show you the studies and saloons and libraries to remind you that we can make our lives just as we want it, that there are rooms to have people over in, but also books to have calm with?”
Gale just simply can’t take it anymore.
He climbs to John’s lap and looks down to him, the older grinning up at him and finding handles on his hips, his curls unruly on the pillow. ”Your words are saying one thing and your lips and hands another, husband,” he accuses, ”but I’ll make you a deal.” He leans down to kiss him and this one is more intense than the ones earlier in the morning, more tongue, more teeth, more imminent need in them.
Gale leans back but stays hovering over him, pressing soft kisses on his husband’s forehead, nose, cheeks, chin, eyelids, because he can, and John is looking up at him like he put the stars into the sky, ”So. If you help me out and show me once more how to open myself up for you and then let me thank you until you fill me up again, I’ll let you feed me breakfast, I’ll let you take me out, I’ll let you show me our house.” He leans down again as if to kiss him but hovers just out of John’s reach. ”Though selfishly… I would also be happy not leaving this room ever again, and having you all to myself, all day, all week, all the rest of history.”
That morning is the first time Gale ends up riding John, flushed and happy and head thrown back and no matter of experience could’ve prepared John for this, the way love makes this so much more than the pleasure, how everything is just… More. The arch of his husband’s back is indecent as is the drop of sweat running down his neck, he wants to lick him clean and make him scream his name in extacy. They also start to discover that Gale likes to have something in his mouth when John scrambles under the pleasure and hits his hand to the tray of breakfast on the nightstand and Gale sucks the whipped cream off them. After they’ve both finished — fast — John lays him down and presses wet kisses all over his face until Gale is giggling and pushing him away as it tickles.
They feed each other the breakfast piece by piece, naked on the bed like greek gods, every once in a while getting distracted with more kisses. After that John presses Gale to his back and has him in missionary for the first time — it’s easier for Gale to be more passive as he’s learning, but like proofed earlier, he’s learning fast and becoming less shy, but right now he loves being able to just wrap his legs around his man and feel. John sucks more hickies to his neck and tells him how beautiful he is, how he’s the luckiest guy in the world, and the adoration in his eyes is the thing that pushes Gale over the edge that time.
They nap for a bit and talk and kiss and touch some more, until Gale’s stomach rumbles and John finds him too some robes so they can go raid the kitchen, giggling like school boys as they look for some bread and cheese and wine. This time they feed themselves but keep kicking and tangling their feet together under the table. When they’re finished John takes his hand and shows him around the house, the library, the study, the ballroom, and while it is all a bit overwhelming to Gale, to think of this as theirs, he has John’s back and shoulders to press himself against and be reminded how real this is indeed. The tour is concluded by John blowing him in front of a huge fireplace in one of the salons, the fire warming his naked body as arches to the touch on the floor bordering on oversensitive, both scandalized and excited about the possibility of someone from the staff walking in.
They do manage to make themselves presentable for dinner at least, eating at a ridiculously large table, the staff making knowing looks amongst each other at seeing the master of the house so truly carefree and smitten, reminding them of the times he was just a boy and was yet to experience the hardships of the world, before the newlyweds go for an evening walk. They end up in the gardens and sit by a fountain, Gale’s head resting on John’s shoulder, warmed by his hand around him against the evening chill, and as John talks some nonsense to keep him laughing he thinks that yeah, when it comes to possible ”rest-of-your-life”s, this one is not too bad, not too bad at all.