
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7992646.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Captain_America_(Comics), Captain_America_-_All_Media_Types
  Relationship:
      James_"Bucky"_Barnes/Steve_Rogers
  Character:
      James_"Bucky"_Barnes, Steve_Rogers
  Additional Tags:
      First_Time, Friends_to_Lovers, Frottage, Anal_Fingering, Captain_America
      White, Comic_Book_Violence, Stucky_-_Freeform, First_Kiss, Gay_Bucky
      Barnes, Bisexual_Steve_Rogers, Podfic_Welcome
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-09-09 Words: 1162
****** Road to Leningrad ******
by Lasgalendil
Summary
     Buck’s gone rigid. And there’s—oh, hell, there’s—fear, that’s fear in
     his wide eyes, the like Steve’s never seen. Not facing Nazis or
     HYDRA, not stranded in the Pacific with the Howlies and no hope of
     rescue, not when Master Man, Toro and Namor were wrecking havoc in
     the skies above Kronas. Damned kid’d been through the Depression,
     death of his parents, years of hell in a war zone, lived through so
     much, seen so damned much, and Steve Rogers is what scares him—?
Notes
     Regarding underage: Captain America White (2015) puts Bucky at age
     16, with Steve being "6 or 7 years" older. Ed Brubaker's Captain
     America: Winter Soldier (2005) gives Bucky's age as 16 and Steve
     Rogers' as 20. As Brubaker is the one who brought Bucky back from the
     dead and has called the MCU a queer reading of Cap and Bucky's
     relationship, I'm gonna go with his interpretation.
See the end of the work for more notes
  This work was inspired by
      Except_it_Abide_in_the_Vine by spitandvinegar
It’s cold.

It’s a land war in Russia in the winter time, Rogers, of course it’s cold.
They’re East on the ice supply road, just miles outside Leningrad, and you can
see the flash of the shelling off in the distance like lightning. But it’s not
the bombs that wake him up. It’s Bucky.

They’re huddled together for warmth. No fires—can’t risk it. Been sharing the
same too-thin sack for weeks now, and James—Buck’s—been a real champ about it.
Not a word of complaint. It’s not easy being a soldier. Even less so when
you’re just a goddamned kid. But he’s good. Never a word about food running
low, about the wind and cold and wet that soaked them both down to the bone,
not even the trench foot that’d nearly killed him. Damned kid just tucked his
face down in the sack and slept as restless and fitful as he could. Never a
complaint about the cold. The hunger. The thirst. The fear.

…the loneliness.
But he is now, isn’t he. Hard and rutting against Steve’s leg, gasping out in
his sleep. Steve doesn’t know whether to be still, to ignore and just let him
sleep, or to shake Buck, wake him the hell up when Bucky comes with a little
cry, the shock of orgasm pushing him from slumber.

“C-Cap!” he manages to stammer. “I, um—“

But they way he is, the way they are, tangled together, entwined and trapped,
Buck having fallen asleep with his nose, his hands, his feet all tucked up
against him “can’t help it you’re like a goddamn furnace, Rogers”, well.
There’s no hiding, no excusing away what just happened.

…Just like there’s no denying his own hard-on, pressed into the hollow of
Bucky’s hip.

Buck’s gone rigid. And there’s—oh, hell, there’s—fear, that’s fear in his wide
eyes, the like Steve’s never seen. Not facing Nazis or HYDRA, not stranded in
the Pacific with the Howlies and no hope of rescue, not when Master Man, Toro
and Namor were wrecking havoc in the skies above Kronas. Damned kid’d been
through the Depression, death of his parents, years of hell in a war zone,
lived through so much, seen so damned much, and Steve Rogers is what scares
him—?

“I—“ Buck swallows, tears welling in those brown eyes. Whispers, “I can go.
I’ll just go. Jesus fuck I’m sorry, Cap, I’ll—“

Steve rolls them. Puts Buck’s small shoulders and back against the frozen
ground. Grinds—hesitantly, gently—against him. And—hell. It’s good. That’s
good. Steve gasps, nearly comes on the spot. He’s never—not once in twenty
years—ever done this. Not with someone else. James—Buck—is a pain in his ass,
teases him about his virginity, his lack of experience but this, God, what had
he been missing—?

Buck lets out a groan, and the sound is sinful. “Cap—?”

Steve ruts against him. Buck makes a whimpering sound, spreads his little legs,
gets his feet up and around Steve’s ass, pulls himself closer, flush with
Steve. And God they’re, they’re, they’re doing this, through coats and clothes,
chaffing and huffing and just chasing that friction. Buck’s breath comes out in
gasps of fog beneath him, and shit, shit he’s beautiful like that, lashes and
lips strung with snow, prettier than any girl’s and Steve’s leaning down,
bracing his arms on either side of Buck’s face and brings his mouth—

Their noses bump. Teeth clack. Buck lets out an unpleasant little hiss as he
grinds up into Steve. “Sorry—“ Steve mumbles.

“Christ on a cross, Cap,” Buck moans. “You really ain’t never kissed no one
before, huh?”

And suddenly he’s what, so aware? ashamed? of what he’s doing. He’s a twenty
year-old virgin, he’s a goddamn queer, he’s—Jesus, he’s—kissing—fucking—a kid,
Buck’s just a goddamn kid and Steve’s hurting him fuck, fuck, he’s such shit—

But Buck’s mouth is back against his, lips soft and warm, just opening,
inviting, exploring the possibilities of Steve’s lips, his teeth, his tongue,
and it’s just as gentle as it is urgent. And his hands—Jesus, Buck’s cold
hands—are cupping Steve’s ass through his pants, kneading at him like a purring
cat, and okay, that’s a hand Jesus Christ that’s a finger pressing up against
his hole and Steve bites down on his own arm and fuck, fuck, Bucky—

And it’s all white behind his eyes, nothing to do with the snow and that rhythm
they’d mounted gets shot all to hell and Steve’s pretty sure he’s pinned all
his weight on the poor kid and fuck, fuck no one ever told him it’d feel like
this—

“Sorry,” Steve gasps as he comes down.

Buck lets out a little laugh. Kisses him sweetly. “Jesus, don’t apologize,
doll.”

“Doll—?” Steve sputters.

“You just came with my finger up your ass, so yeah, Cap. 'Doll' just about does
it,” Bucky grins. And there’s no trace of that shyness, that terror left in his
adoring eyes. “Now help a fella out and spoon me, okay?”

“Jesus,” Steve whispers.
“Nope. Just me,” Buck nestles back into his arms, head resting against Steve’s
chest.
“You—you okay?”
“Me? I’m fine, pal. Just came twice in what? Five minutes? Jesus, Mary, and
Joseph,” Buck lets out a little laugh and wraps his cold fingers up with
Steve’s. “Could really use a cigarette, that’s all. Damned Nazis.”

Could really use a cigarette, that’s all. He’d—he’d known. Of course Buck’d had
experience before, but shit, they’d just—he’d just—did it really all mean
nothing—?

“You’re real quiet, Cap,” Buck says, stroking his hands. “You okay?”

“Was it me,” Steve finally asks. “Or was it him?”
Buck chuckles. “Take a look around, Rogers. Ain’t exactly anyone else here but
us, pal.”

“No. Was it—Steve. Or just Cap.”

“What, we just fucked and now you’re worried about bein’ a 4F—?”

“People don’t see me. They don’t see Steve Rogers. They just see…” Steve trails
off. Swallows. “All this.”

Buck squirms in his arms. Turns his fierce little face up, lays a hand against
Steve’s jaw. “Cap, they coulda put anyone in that damned costume. Clark Gable.
Gary Cooper. Be just as pretty in the pictures. But it’s you that makes it more
than just an outfit, ya mook. You’re what makes it Cap.”

“You didn’t know me,” Steve voices those insecurities. “Before.”

“Pshaw, Rogers, ya dumb sap. Maybe I never met skinny Steve Rogers, but I’ve
been puttin’ the moves on you since Lehigh, ‘fore I ever knew you was Cap an’
you were just some bumbling blond private clumsier than a cat in bathwater.”

Now it’s Steve’s turn to chuckle. He kisses the top of Bucky’s head. “Since
Lehigh, huh?”

Buck sighs. Rolls those big brown eyes like it was obvious. “Oh, c’mon, Rogers.
You never got around to wonderin’ what it was I was doin’ in your tent that
night in the first place—?”
End Notes
     "Of course, this is still a rollicking adventure tale, and no
     adventure is complete without a love story. And, yes, these books
     have one—the longest, most tortured one in Marvel history, in fact.
     We're talking about Steve and Bucky, without smirking or innuendo or
     raised eyebrows. Platonic though the relationship may be, from the
     meet cute to the tragic separation, their bond has all the elements
     of a classic romance. These two men love each other—as any pair of
     friends who faced exclusion, combat, inhumanity, and death would."
     —Christopher Markus & Stephen McFeely. Introduction. Captain America
     White. 4 December 2015.
     ...yeah, no, guys. I'm just gonna go ahead and call it queer-baiting,
     both in print and on screen. I didn't like Captain America White or
     the MCU's "no homo", so I fixed it.
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