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Sam and Bucky can get very competitive.
This is a known fact that anyone with two working eyes and two available ears can vouch for. From completing tasks during a mission to game nights playing Pictionary or Uno—the two go neck and neck, practically tripping over themselves just to make everything they do together a competition.
More specifically, races have become their thing. They both relish in the thrill of the chase, the idea of who can cross that finish line first.
And Bucky has been winning—much to Sam’s dismay.
Bucky was the first to arrive at the emergency press meeting, he was the first one at the restaurant when him and Sam decided to meet for drinks after a particularly difficult and boring mission, he beat Sam in every relay race during training—leaving Sam breathless, panting like a dog in the summer heat while Bucky barely broke a sweat. Sam flipped off Bucky so much that the nickname ‘the bird’ that Bucky coined for him is a double meaning. Sam was starting to get sick of Bucky and his super unfair super-soldier advantages. Sam is only human, okay? He may be ripped and Captain America, but he’s not some beyond human being with amplified strength and speed—how was he supposed to fairly compete with Bucky? Of course he was gonna lag behind in some things with the guy, it’s not his fault. No blames him for it, and he tries not to beat himself up too much for it—although his insecurities slowly creep in each and every time he’s reminded that Bucky Barnes will almost always come first.
Sam used to hate it. Despises the way he gloats and smirks like he’s hot shit every time he beats Sam, even by a millisecond, a millimeter. Sam dislikes how it reminds him he’s only human in a league of supers—a fact he’d long accepted but hurts every now and then. He hates how he’s always coming first, always first.
Until they started dating.
Of course no one was surprised when they got together.
If you told one of these people with the functioning eyes and accessible ears that Bucky and Sam finally stopped being stupid with their obvious feelings for each other and got together they would just raise an eyebrow and say ‘I thought they were already together?’. That’s how unsurprising it was. That’s how obvious they were.
But to them, of course, it was a game changer. Everything was more intense. The staring competitions were less threatening and more brimming with tension. They were chasing each other less in races and chased each other lips more.
Of course, it’s still them — and the competitiveness didn’t wane off just because they were romantically involved. Quite the opposite of waning, it actually only got worse. Hell, when they both realized their true feelings towards one another, it was practically a game of chicken of who was to confess first. And to no surprise, it was Bucky who admitted it first. Bucky who made the first move, who kissed Sam first, leaning in with a winning smirk because he’s a sap, and he knows he won in more ways than one. Sam didn’t have a real problem with it, because the feeling of being admired and adored by Bucky was a feeling that set his lungs aflame, along with the rest of his body. Every time the sweet antipication engulfs his entire self, making him buzz excitedly all over. For a second he forgets all about their silly one-ups and that cocky smile that stretches across Bucky’s lips when he knows he came in first and just revels in the taste and sensation of lips interlocked, or the warmness and safety of fingers intertwined.
Sam is willing to let it go in times like these, alone together, tucked in the small dimmed bedroom they share now, obsessed with touching each other all over, kissing like it’s the only thing they are able to do. They kiss like they are fighting, fighting for the upper hand, for the dominance. Bucky opens his mouth, Sam slips his tongue in, Bucky moans as he tries to incorporate his teeth in the situation—nibbling at Sam’s lower lip to try and squeeze a noise out of his vocal cords. It works.
They kiss for a while. They really like to kiss, when they both get invested in something, it’s hard for them to stop. Especially when it’s this addicting. Sam loves to thread his fingers nimbly through the thick strands of Bucky’s hair, tugging him back just to hear the whimper escape him as he dives back into a more bruising kiss. Bucky enjoys touching Sam all over when they kiss like this, making out like teenagers who have just discovered each other’s mouths. Bucky especially focuses on Sam’s chest, his pecs and his abs, his hands drag over them like he’s trying to paint on a canvas. He groans at the easiness of it all, of how Sam melts so willingly to his touch.
Another thing about their make out sessions are that since they go on for so long, they don’t know when to stop. They both just keep going, ignoring their…other problems. Which at some point gets so hard (difficult) to navigate, like they are both so preoccupied with beating each other to the punch that there’s no fight left in them. They just get riled up and often can’t seem to stop, both impatient—huffing like they haven’t breathed in ages. They sort of get off on it though, the addiction of the way each other taste. Neither of them are ready to admit it out loud, but they are both so down for each other it feels almost illegal, like they both uncovered something that no one else was supposed to know about. That’s what it feels like when they are intimate, enveloped in each other’s lips, hands on bodies and fingers in hair.
So in retrospect, it’s unfair to assume, going by the way they go about private things currently, that it’ll all go smoothly.
But nonetheless—they both aren’t the best at forethought when it came to their time alone. All they have on their minds is each other. Each other’s names, each other’s mouths, each other’s hands and bodies and tastes. Everything slows down to an impossibly sensual pace, and it feels like nothing else in the world exists or ever did or even ever could. But something was different this time, Sam could sense it, Bucky suddenly speeding up their kisses—growing noisy and impatient as he drags his lips away to start attacking his neck. Sam throws his head back and sighs sweetly at the sensation and Bucky’s hands are on Sam’s hips dragging him incredibly closer. With Sam in his lap, Bucky likes to manipulate him to get what he wants, and right now Bucky wants their bodies pressed flush and flat against each other, and Sam can’t miss the unmistakable weight of Bucky’s persistent bulge in his sweatpants.
It sparks up Sam with ambition and he grabbed the back of Bucky’s head to pull it off his neck where he was previously latched. With only a white wife beater on, it was easy to undress Bucky’s top half (contrasting heavily with the amount of layers he usually wears). When Bucky’s shirtless, it’s like Sam activated a switch in Bucky’s brain and Bucky goes to scramble Sam’s black t-shirt off (or maybe Sam just reminded him that he can do that). Once they are both shirtless they both revel in exploring the new expanse now available to them. Bucky has no hesitation in dragging his hands all down Sam in a way that has Sam writhing and sucking air through his teeth so hard it makes a delicious hissing sound that Bucky engulfs with a needy, wet kiss that’s 90% tongue and 5% teeth. The other 5% is wherever his lips disappear too—Sam doesn’t know or care at the moment, his nerves were too busy being lit on fire to care or notice.
He also missed the transition between being sat comfortably in Bucky’s lap to being pushed onto his back on the bed with a hungry huff.
Sam makes a small surprised sound. “Woah, Buck.”
“Mm sorry baby,” Bucky mumbles, sounding only slightly apologetic. He scoots closer to Sam with his knees on either side of Sam’s hips, he’s now towering above Sam, leaving him in a very vulnerable position. “I just had an impulse…and an idea.”
“Yeah?” Sam says, curious. “And what’s that?”
Bucky just smirks above him and plants a sweet kiss on Sam’s closed lips. Then, his head started traveling downwards as his eyes are transfixed on Sam, blown wide and wanting—his flesh hand grazes the top of his sweatpants. “Wanna suck you off.”
A shiver takes over Sam, a visceral reaction overtakes him and a low moan is ripped out of his chest. “Best idea you’ve ever had Barnes.”
Bucky chuckles softly at the playful permission Sam provided for him like fresh food on a silver platter. He tugs the sweatpants down with one foul swoop and Sam gasps slightly. “If you rip these pants you’re paying for another pair.”
“I’m pretty sure these are actually mine hun,”
Sam perks his head up like a dog. “What? No they aren’t.”
“Yes, the ones you stole the night Steve poured wine on your jeans?” Bucky reminds, his teeth grazing his inner thigh so casually like it won’t drive Sam crazy. “And Steve got so worked up about it that he offered to wash them for you and buy you a new pair.” When it finally dawns on Sam, Bucky adds, “Then bought you that glass of 1920’s red.”
“God—that glass was like $90.” Sam laughed, remembering that avengers dinner with fondness in his heart. “He must’ve apologized like 50 times over the course of that night, all for those jeans that were hand-me-downs.”
Bucky huffs, and suddenly Sam is alertly aware of where he is again. “That’s Steve for you.”
Before Sam can scold Bucky for saying another man’s name so close to his dick, Bucky unwraps his boxers like it’s a personal gift and grabs a hold of his cock. Sam screws his eyes shut and takes a deep inhale to keep from losing his mind. Bucky starts licking and teasing and it makes Sam unable to sit still, writhing under the attention, a bit impatient but not needy. Yet.
By now, Bucky is fully sprawled out on the bed, spread and on display. Sam thinks it’s something golden, he rarely sees Bucky this vulnerable. It’s sort of a sick dream that Sam definitely doesn’t want to wake from. Especially when Bucky finally relents and puts his mouth on him, lips wrapping so beautifully around his full length and starting to work up and down. A moan slips smooth as butter from Sam’s lips and it seems to only egg Bucky on, as he speeds up slightly at the vocal affirmation of enjoyment. Sam moans again, this time louder and longer, and Bucky responds by bobbing up and down with fervor and moaning back, sending shivers of pleasure down Sam’s spine. This is when Bucky starts to move restlessly under him, rocking back and forth as he’s sucking him off. Sam feels himself still and he focuses on his breath because he can’t seem to think properly if he just allows himself to sit back and let his mind wander, he steadies himself by placing one of hands on the back of Bucky’s head but doesn’t push. Then, Bucky looks up with glistening blue eyes, the corners brimming with a prickle of tears and nods encouragingly at the action.
“Can I fuck your mouth Barnes?” Sam clarifies, just to make sure.
Bucky nods once more and seals it with a confirming hum for good measures.
With Bucky’s consent, Sam slowly starts to push his head down on his dick and Bucky continues to swallow him down with almost impossible ease. Soon enough, it feels too good that Sam couldn’t help but jerk his hips forward—he quickly apologizes but Bucky doesn’t relent, and continues to moan against his dick and all the sensations are much too pleasurable for Sam all at once. Sam stops holding back and lets every natural noise stumble clumsily out of his lips like its falling down the stairs. Bucky seems to really enjoy it and for a moment his previously constant motion wanes off and he goes still but Sam doesn’t even care because the pleasurable feelings from the previous moments linger like cigarette smoke and it’s intoxicating enough to distract from the lack of movement as Bucky seems to take a moment.
Sam suddenly peeks his previously closed eyes open in slight but lurching concern. “You okay Buck?”
Bucky looks winded in a way that’s sexy, and Sam feels guilty and a bit perverted for finding it hot. His eyes are glossy and his lips are swollen but he’s still wrapped around Sam like he’s devoted, eventually Bucky nods again and continues to suck him off.
Sam disregards the odd encounter and after a few more bobs and a little twisting action from the base of his cock, Sam is incredibly close to climax.
“I’m close Bucky,” Sam warns, breathy and blissed out. “So so close baby.”
Bucky takes this as an order of some sort to finish him off so he speeds up his hand on his cock and gets sloppy with the blow job but in a way that just feels so nice that Sam can’t breathe. He throws his head back with a particularly high-pitched moan as he comes down Bucky’s throat and then catches his breath as Bucky seems to swallow it all. Sam watches Bucky in awe in the post-orgasm glow and can’t help the smile that creeps up on his lips. Bucky slowly removes his mouth and wipes his mouth like it’s a performance for Sam.
“Wow Buck,” Sam finally says after he’s fully recovered. “Where did you learn to suck dick like that?”
“The army.” Bucky answers, totally deadpan.
A snort escapes Sam and he pulls Bucky up into a sweet, chaste kiss, inadvertently tasting himself on his lips—but Sam doesn’t mind. Then Sam’s hand snakes down from where it was previously entangled in his hair to his chest then to his pants. “Let me help you now,” Sam breathes between kisses that grow more and more heavy. “Show you what I learned in the Air Force.”
Bucky huffs but shakes his head slightly. “Uh…no need to…”
Sam retreats his hand. “What? Not hard from that? Or do you just not feel like—“ Sam pauses as his eyes wander down to Bucky to check out the situation.
The situation—is unexpected. But oh so lovely.
Bucky has a huge wet spot in his pants right at his crotch, and it’s pretty obvious that it’s not just pre cum, it’s sort of unmistakable what it really is and what really happened. Sam almost gasps when he realizes, and his hand that was previously going to help Bucky out now is covering his mouth.
Bucky Barnes came in his fucking pants, prematurely, just from sucking Sam’s dick.
Sam feel like he might see stars.
Sam hesitantly looks back up at Bucky, who is the shyest he’s ever seen him, bright red and avoiding Sam’s eyes. “I…uh…”
After all the shit Bucky would give Sam about finishing first in races…Sam tries his absolute hardest not to crack a joke at his expense right now, especially looking at the state of Bucky, all vulnerable and embarrassed, it’s sort of adorable. Sam might be a little sadistic. But Sam would be lying if he said he was turned off by it, Bucky coming in his pants and all. In fact, the perverted side of Sam is at the forefront of his thoughts and is first on the command center of his body, as he can feel his dick twitch at the thought of Bucky coming while sucking him off. Then Sam thought back to Bucky wiggling under him earlier then suddenly going still, that’s probably when…
Sam has to stop himself before he gets too excited. It’ll only complicate the situation.
“That’s amazing,” Sam says but can’t help but softly chuckle and grin like an ass.
“Shut up,” Bucky bites, but it’s more of a defense than a real command.
“I’m just saying,” Sam continues, already regretting speaking again as he can’t help but sit back and continue to smile like a cocky asshole. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s okay, really-“
“Sam.” Bucky shoots him a glare. “Stop talking. Please.”
“Right.”
Sam lets it go, for now and gets up to get a washcloth from the bathroom. When the door closes behind him he lets out a soft laugh thinking about it again. But he’s also already half hard again in his boxers. Still, he’s pretty satisfied with himself.
-
It happens again. To Bucky’s horror and Sam’s strange, yet very apparent, delight.
The last time they fooled around was when it happened the first time, and it resulted in Bucky refusing to acknowledge it and them just cuddling until they both fell asleep. It wasn’t exactly a bad time, they both got what they were playing for, they both crossed that finish line. Even if one was slightly unintentional and…premature. But still, a win is a win.
This time started off the same as last time. Hands all over one another, clothes kicked off and long gone, mouths melded together—wet and needy. Sam is sitting pretty in Bucky’s lap, rocking back and forth with determination and fervor. Sam can tell it’s driving Bucky a little insane in a good way, as the same wanting noises slips through the cracks between their kisses so consistently it almost becomes a steady rhythm. Sam smiles devilishly and gets a good pace going with his hips, Bucky’s breath hitches and he pulls his head away with a groan.
“Okay I need to be inside you,” he admits blankly. “Like soon.”
Sam, only slightly surprised (more so at the directness and less of the desire itself), chuckles lightly and smiles even wider. “Yeah?”
“Fuck yes.”
Bucky takes his time opening up Sam with his flesh fingers and Sam could only gasp at each new intrusion and curl. Sam silently thanked the lords that Bucky was horny enough to carry around travel-sized lube with him at all times. Bucky kisses his neck while working him open, mumbling praises into his shoulder blades. This was one of the only times they could be honest and genuine with each other rather than bickering and competitive. Tender moments when it’s just them, vulnerable and naked, focusing on the important task at hand. It’s either prepping for sex or locked into a mission—the two times when Bucky and Sam aren’t being their insufferable selves with their hot-and-cold dynamic (as described by Natasha).
When Bucky pushes the third finger in, he pulls back to stare Sam in the eyes with a fiery intensity before pulling him into a deep and slow kiss. It makes Sam’s stomach explode into confetti and Sam briefly remembers he can still feel like a schoolgirl under Bucky’s attention. Bucky dips his fingers deeper and Sam whines, his lips retreating from the kiss to say, “Now, oh god, now.”
“Yeah?” Bucky echoes with a cocky grin on his face.
Sam rolls his eyes playfully. “You want it or not Barnes?”
“Oh trust me, I’ve been dreaming about all damn week,” Bucky folds under no pressure. “Think about it all the time.”
Bucky finally pulls his fingers out and Sam tries not to breathe out to loud, he just hums the lack away, reminding himself he’ll soon be filled again. Sam nods as Bucky continues to talk while putting lube all over his dick in preparation. Sam keeps a watchful eye.
“Ever since I met you,” he continues, drunk on horniness. “I’ve wanted to be in your ass Wilson.”
Sam holds back a you’ve always been a pain in my ass comment and just lifts his hips, too gone to bother with getting a lick in and honestly very curious to hear more from Bucky.
But Bucky just stares at him intensely, a steely blue gaze that sucks all the air out of Sam’s lungs as he presses the tip to his hole. “Fuck…” he draws out as he eases in slowly. His eyes flutter shut as he gathers the courage to keep going, Sam keeps his breath steady and calm meanwhile he’s buzzing with excitement and antipication. It takes a bit to get Sam stretched all the way around him and once he’s sat on Bucky’s dick fully, they both take a second to adjust and prepare, breathing in sync with one another in a very connecting way.
“You feel so good Sam,” Bucky whispers, raspy and barely together. “Can I move?”
Sam takes a deep inhale and nods. “Yes. Please.”
Bucky stutters his hips up into Sam and with one singular bounce Sam lets out a sweet moan as he revels in the addictive feeling of Bucky inside him. He’s thought about it a lot, the pull and push of Bucky’s dick in him, but having it in reality really takes the cake. His whole perspective shifts and Sam decides it might be his new favorite thing ever.
Bucky’s breath speeds up fast, as he continues to pump into him. Sam decides to roll his hips back onto his cock, riding him a little and Bucky really—really—likes that, as he lets out an ungodly filthy noise. “Sam I-“
He’s cut off with a gasp as Sam continues to ride him, a splitting smile emerges on Sam’s lips showcasing his gap-toothed smile that Bucky could never get enough of. Bucky hums and makes soft prayers to the ceiling as his head rolls back with pleasure.
“Feels so good, you feel so good,” he keeps saying, one arm was steady on Sam’s back as he pushes them closer together and the other arm is folded as his hand is cradling the back of Sam’s hand. “Fuck, so amazing. So gorgeous.”
Bucky uses the arm on his back to pull Sam into a gratifying kiss. He feels everything in Bucky spill into his mouth and Sam slips his tongue in with a pleasured sigh. Bucky suddenly goes very still, and Sam is about to panic, ask him if they should stop or what was wrong until—
He feels a warmth fill inside him.
Sam pulls away from the kiss slowly and Bucky’s face is a familiar red as he looks down—his expression flashes with a mix of disappointment, embarrassment and guilt. Sam eases away with a satisfied and cocky grin on his face—mirroring Bucky’s previous confidence that is now long gone, stripped from his face and body as he physically crumbles up like a piece of paper.
“Did you—“
“Mm shut up,”
“So you just—“
“Oh my god, please shut up.”
Bucky is still hiding his face, his long hair curtaining his face to make it easy for him. Sam thinks he’s being ridiculous, they’ve seen each other beaten up to pulps before, but Bucky can’t stand to look at Sam after he came a little too early.
“Bucky…I’m sorry. C’mon look at me,” Sam says sweetly, nudging Bucky slightly. He’s still very much inside Sam and Sam is still very much hard despite the awkward situation. Bucky sighs and lifts his gaze hesitantly. “Hey it’s okay-“
“Easy for you to say.” Bucky looks away again but Sam reaches out to divert him back to their previous eye contact.
“Okay stop being a baby,” Sam leans in so their faces are close and he places a soft kiss on his lips. “It doesn’t matter.”
Then Bucky, as if something beneath Sam’s words or hidden in his expression reminded him, moves to place his right hand on Sam’s erection and starts stroking him. Sam sighs contentedly, and makes pleasuring sounds that he knows is currently easing Bucky’s mood and tension, even if just temporarily or slightly. Bucky picks up the pace and really puts work into it, making it a handjob worth remembering, something Sam can fantasize about when he’s alone. “Bucky.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t fuck you better,” Bucky whispers, sounding genuinely apologetic. “I just get too lost in you. That’s all. That’s the honest truth.”
Sam thought for a second he was dreaming. “Yeah? I get you that hot?”
“Well, yeah Sam. I told you already I think about you like this all the time,” Bucky continues and somehow, Sam is still comprehending every word because Bucky hasn’t started doing tricks with his hands that he’s never could even imagine. “So I guess when I finally get you like this, it’s overwhelming. In a good way.”
The confession sparks a sort of warm bursting feeling in Sam’s lower gut, grateful to finally be given an explanation and also weirdly very turned on by the prospect that Bucky just couldn’t help himself when he finally gets Sam ‘like this’. Whatever that means. “What’s like this, huh Buck?”
Bucky’s less red now, more pink, dusted with the heat of sex rather than coated with the blanket of embarassment. He looks beautiful and Sam can’t help himself as he lifts a hand to smooth his face with the back of his hand, the knuckles of his fingers grazing his stubble. Bucky chuckles softly. “Vulnerable, open. Stripped down to nothing, just us. I can’t get enough of you alone. Hate it when other people look at you how I do.”
Sam’s breathing is shallow as he focuses on the absolute mind-blowing combination of a killer hand-job and praise that has him on the edge of finishing too quick as well. “You get jealous?”
“God how can I not?” Bucky moves to start biting at his neck and his collarbone, leaving marks that he knows will last, Sam isn’t the super soldier with hyper-healing properties. Sam moans encouragingly. “Hate it when people stare at your ass or go on the internet talking about how Captain America is so hot in his suit. Those should only be thoughts reserved for me. Hate it how everyone else gets to see how beautiful you are.” He continues and Fuck Sam is so close. “That’s why when it’s just us, just this, it drives me wild. No one else gets to see you naked, or fuck you, or stroke your cock or suck your dick. Just me, and the thought alone makes me fucking ecstatic. And I just can’t control myself.”
Sam nods, understanding and shaking with want and need. “Bucky, oh my god.”
“When it comes to you Sam I just can’t help it,” Bucky says and then in one swift motion he pulls himself out of Sam, and Sam whines at the release, but then Bucky lowers his head to wrap his lips around his cock and Sam is whining for other reasons.
“Don’t stop oh please don’t stop,“ Sam is muttering and his vision goes blurry around the edges as he reaches for his climax. “Gonna come Buck, gonna—“
He cuts himself off with a loan moan that turns into a low whimper as he comes down Bucky’s throat. He’s catching his breath and huffing out laughs that cut up any previous tension that still lingered. Bucky smiles as he lifts his head up to wipe his mouth and give Sam a tender kiss. Sam kisses back, smiling back against his lips.
“Sorry,” Bucky says, almost sheepishly, when they break apart. “You’re right, I was being immature…I was just embarrassed.”
“You don’t have to be,” Sam clarifies, and starts to leave feather-light pecks all over Bucky’s face that he knows makes him squirm because he’s secretly ticklish there. It still makes Bucky blush. “It’s sort of hot, hearing that you just can’t handle it.”
Bucky pulls back a little to survey Sam completely, blue eyes completely blown out in awe. “Yeah?”
“Are you kidding?” Sam asks.
Bucky chuckles and moves to kiss him again. “I just really like you.” He mumbles against his skin.
Sam beams like sunshine at him. “I really like you too.”
“And I’ll work on it,” Bucky adds.
“Work on what? Being less immature about coming too early or coming too early?”
Bucky flushes looks away for a moment before scoffing. “Both.”
Sam laughs and chooses to take Bucky’s word for it.
They both move to take a shower together, cleaning one another and washing each other’s hair. Sam spreading his long fingers covered in shampoo in Bucky’s hair as he hums and pushes into the touch. After they get clean they lay in their bed in clean clothes, holding onto each other, comfortable and melting into the sheets. Bucky has his arms wrapped around Sam’s neck while his phone is in his left hand scrolling through Pinterest and Sam is reading his book with his reading glasses on. They both really love this part of the night, where they can be calm and quiet and close. They both truly treasure the domesticity they have inherited from their new but still exciting and blooming relationship. Bucky sighs as he places his phone down and leans into Sam’s touch, his head falling into his collarbones to breath him in and make a gentle noise that makes the hair on the back of Sam’s neck rise.
“I think it’s funny,” Sam mutters, bookmarking his page as he places it aside along with Bucky’s phone. “That all our relationship you’ve been bragging about finishing first in competitions. And now…”
Bucky groans. “You are the worst.”