It had been a long day.

Steve hung up his keys and closed the door to his apartment gently, pinching the bridge of his nose as the floorboards creaked beneath him. He wanted to be finished with it, the constant chatter and prying questions, the stares and whispers and turmoil. He didn't know how Natasha could handle it.

He propped his shield against the wall where it quickly fell over with a thud. He sighed and shrugged his shoulders before leaving it, too tired to care. He kicked off his shoes and stretched his shoulders, tilting his head from side to side to ease the tightness in his muscles. He made his way to the modest living room, ready to throw himself down onto the couch when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye.

He should have seen this coming.

"Hey," he muttered calmly. It sounded distant and cold, but he didn't want to have any problems. He turned slowly toward the corner chair and held his breath.

In the darkness he could make out a pair of eyes, glistening in the light that peeked through his window. The rest of the figure was enveloped in darkness, except for the few glimmers that reflected from that distinctive metal arm.

They stared at each other for what seemed to be an eternity, and Steve wondered if either of them had blinked. He swallowed the lump in his throat and cursed himself for leaving his shield at the door. He couldn't tell who was in front of him... The Winter Soldier? Bucky? Both?

"Are you alright?" he asked finally, ignoring the slight waver in his voice. He was met with silence, the figure still unmoving. He cleared his throat. "Buck?"

"That's not my name," the other whispered, anger in his eyes and in his voice. Steve tried his best not to grimace.

"Then what is it?" he replied against his better judgment.

"I am the Winter Soldier. I have been sent to kill you."

Steve sighed and shook his head. "You don't have those orders anymore. You know that. You saved my life."

"I have to complete my mission," the man reiterated with a growl. He stood from his seat suddenly and Steve could hear an eerie mechanical whirring fill the room. He took a step back.

"You don't have to do this anymore. This isn't your mission, Buck."

"Stop calling me that!" he shouted, lunging forward. He grabbed the captain's neck in his metal hand and shoved him against the wall, knocking the wind out of him.

"Bucky, please," Steve managed to choke out despite the pressure on his throat. He struggled to breathe, frantic and heavy through his nose as Bucky's face seemed to go through a dozen emotions a second. He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to watch the turmoil that haunted the man staring back at him.

"I know you."

Steve's breath hitched at the words and he carefully opened his eyes.

"How do I know you?" Bucky asked, brows furrowed, jaw clenched. His grip lessened further each moment that passed.

"We were friends," Steve whispered once he could gather the strength. "Best friends."

"I don't know anyone," Bucky replied, tears in his eyes.

"Let me help you."

Perhaps it was the phrasing, or maybe just too soon, but the anger returned to his old friend's face.

"How do I know you?!" he repeated, slamming his metal fist into the wall.

Steve thought it best to stay quiet for a moment. He shouldn't have pushed him. His eyes fell to the ground and he simply listened to his friend's heavy breathing. His friend? His enemy? His heart thudded in his chest.

"What did we do?" Bucky asked, barely audible.

"Everything," Steve replied instantly. It hurt him to think about.

"Everything," Bucky repeated, pulling his hand from the fractured wall. He studied it absently and Steve wondered what he was thinking about, wondered how much of his pal was left inside that tortured skull. He wanted desperately to make him know, to have him remember. "Did we do this?" Bucky asked and they were suddenly chest to chest.

Steve gasped, feeling smothered, but he didn't move away. He didn't want to make things worse. He searched the eyes staring back at him for some sort of understanding and instead found something unfamiliar.

"What is this?" Steve replied, voice shaky.

"I feel something," Bucky answered quietly as he pressed their foreheads together. Steve chewed the inside of his cheek nervously and let his eyes flutter shut. "I know you, somehow, but... I don't... I feel something," he repeated, not entirely present. "The mission," he muttered.

Instinctively, Steve placed his hands on either side of his friend, palms firmly against his ribcage to calm him down. Bucky shuddered at the touch. "It's okay," he murmured reassuringly. "It's going to be okay."

"Did we do this?" Bucky asked again. Steve swallowed.

"No," he replied, and he wondered if he shouldn't have. A quiet sob echoed deep in his friend's throat, and he exhaled as though he had just been punched in the gut.

"Are you sure?" It sounded like pleading.

"No, Buck. We didn't." He held his breath as cold metal snaked over his shoulder, heavy digits splayed across the side of his neck. Hot breath cascaded over his ear as Bucky's lips grazed the side of his cheek.

"Why not?"

Steve's eyes darted open at the question. Why not? He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out, only the ragged sound of shallow breath. Was this his friend? Was this Bucky? The guy with a new girl on his arm every weekend, a pretty girl to kiss in the back of the cinema and take out dancing, the guy that made everyone jealous?

"I don't know" was the only response he could muster.

"But... it feels..." the man started, his other hand finding its way to Steve's waist. He whined like an animal that was being mistreated, confused and grasping for anything he could. "I never feel anything."

Before the captain had a chance to respond, his friend pressed their hips together and sighed, pulling him closer by the small of his back. He couldn't suppress the startled gasp that escaped him, and he was suddenly made aware of the hardness now pressed against him. He could tell by the minute shudders and contracting of muscles that it was taking Bucky everything he had not to grind against him with reckless abandon. Bucky? The Winter Soldier? He still didn't know, and it pained him. The answer would make all the difference.

"It feels right," Bucky whispered into his ear. "Why?"

"I don't know," Steve replied honestly, trying to ignore the beat of his own heart as it echoed through his head. "I really don't, Buck. I'm sorry."

The words had barely made it out of his mouth before Bucky's lips were pressed against his, hot and frantic and violent. He took in quick breaths through his nose and he dropped his arms nervously as Bucky deepened the kiss, biting and sucking as though his life depended on it. But Steve just stood there, rigid and cold, mind too cloudy to comprehend what was happening to him. His hands found their way to the wall behind him and he pressed his palms against it as Bucky's fingers clamped around the back of his neck, sharp and bruising and strong. The Winter Soldier didn't stop - couldn't stop - not until he was breathless, shaking and disoriented with his own desperate act, eyes glazed over and lips flushed and swollen. He took a step back and waited in silence for himself to stop panting while the captain stared back at him anxiously.

"Didn't it?" Bucky asked finally, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand gracelessly.

"Didn't it what?" Steve managed to choke out, still frozen in place.

"Feel right."

Steve swallowed and furrowed his brow. He wanted to respond, wanted a definite answer... Was this Bucky's subconscious? Was this the Winter Soldier looking to satisfy some primal need?

"I don't know," he repeated and the soldier clenched his fist in a flurry of metallic whirs.

"Don't lie to me," he growled, low and menacing, his teeth bared. "Don't you fucking lie to me." He grabbed Steve's face in his mechanical hand, his other pressed flat against the chest that still had not stopped heaving. "I could do it," he added, mere inches away from the mouth he'd just ravaged. "I could make it feel right." He grabbed at the captain's hips and shoved him roughly against the wall before licking his lips hungrily.

"Wait," Steve stammered nervously. He wanted Bucky, he really did, even if he wasn't all there. "You're right," he muttered timidly, wondering what he'd gotten himself into.

It felt right and wrong at the same time. He blamed the murmurs and the moans that emanated from his friend's throat, silky and coaxing, needy and pained. They were a cry for help and a promise of pleasure, and he was weak to them. He closed his eyes and let the soldier begin his ministrations.

Soft lips met his own, but somehow even less gently this time. He squeezed his eyes shut at the man's jerky movements, all teeth and tongue and suffocation. He grabbed at Bucky's waist in an attempt to calm him, to get him to slow down, but it was of no use. The Winter Soldier was here, panicked and angry, clinging to a fleeting feeling that only Steve could ignite. He was starving for it.

They parted briefly and erratically, stealing air when they felt dizzy, and Bucky began to grind against him hopelessly. He whimpered into Steve's mouth as he pressed their bodies together, disappointed that they couldn't get any closer. The captain's lips felt raw but he didn't dare pull away, noting that they both had a high tolerance for pain.

Bucky wrapped his metal arm around the small of Steve's back while his other hand found it's way to the front of the captain's pants. Steve gasped at the touch but he wasn't hard, too overcome by the swiftness of it all, the nerves and the conflict and the blood in his mouth. Bucky recoiled slightly in response. Disappointment? Embarrassment? He couldn't tell.

"You don't feel it," Bucky hissed in frustration.

"You're going too fast," Steve snapped, surprising himself. Bucky's eyes darted up to meet his and there was something in them, glimmering in the darkness.

"I can't help it," he moaned into Steve's neck, his hips bucking forward on their own accord. He growled before dropping to his knees. "This will help."

Steve was on edge, self-conscious and confused, and he nearly pushed him away. The soldier was too fast for him though, determined and precise, and before he could protest he was panting.

Bucky's hands were on his ass, firm but not painful, holding him in place. He teased at the bulge in the captain's pants before taking the zipper in his teeth and pulling it down. He nuzzled at the heavy fabric and gazed back up at his friend, eyes full of lust and mischief. He tugged at the button until it came free and he mouthed at Steve's cock through his boxers.

Steve would have muttered something encouraging if he could form any words, but the only vocalization he could manage was an astonished sigh. His eyelids were heavy but he kept them open, and his jaw dropped at the sight. Bucky's breath felt warm against him and he could feel his boxers growing tighter with need.

Bucky's fingers slipped beneath the elastic and tugged at the flimsy cloth until it pooled around the captain's ankles, and he let no moment go to waste. He lapped at the growing length in front of him hungrily and Steve hissed through his teeth at the sensation, hot and wet and delicious. The speed at which he worked, the precision of it all, it left Steve dizzy and weak in the knees. His eyes fluttered shut as Bucky took him into his mouth, letting his tongue slowly slide over the delicate skin. Bucky's hands found their way back to either side of the captain's waist and they kneaded at the muscles, taught and constricting at each flick of his tongue.

"You're right," Steve moaned, finally looking down at his friend. "It's helping."

Bucky smirked before swallowing Steve's entire length, and the captain shuddered uncontrollably. His eyes widened at the sight, of Bucky's furrowed brow and slackened jaw, steady and determined to work him to his full potential. He couldn't stop himself from tangling his hands into the soldier's hair no more than he could stop himself from bucking forward, sending tears down the soldier's cheek as he tried not to wince at the thick member that filled his throat.

"Slow down," Steve choked out, too close too fast, and Bucky let the glistening cock fall from his mouth clumsily. He eyed it proudly as it stood at attention, twitching and begging for more.

Bucky jumped to his feet and pressed their lips together, letting the captain taste himself on his tongue. Bucky nipped at his lips and smiled as Steve bit him back, hard and fast, just like he wanted. He reveled in the pain that bloomed over his mouth before jerking his hips forward impatiently.

Steve pulled away long enough to grasp at the end of Bucky's shirt and moved to lift it over his head. The solider hesitated for a moment before allowing the captain to finish his task, raising his arms reluctantly. Steve's eyes wandered over the seam of marred flesh that connected to the mechanics of his old friend's arm, but he looked away quickly, noting the apparent discomfort it caused him. Instead, he let his hands wander over Bucky's muscular back, and the touch seemed to soothe him.

Bucky's fingers latched onto the captain's waist and he took a few steps before the backs of his knees hooked over the modest couch. He fell backward and pulled Steve onto himself, never breaking the kiss. He groaned as they finally fell flush against each other, fully and completely, and he couldn't seem to catch his breath.

Steve raised his hips as Bucky frantically unfastened his own pants with little coordination. He shoved them down where they became tangled in his boots but he was too far gone to care, simply letting them twist around his ankles. Finally free from the constricting cloth, he wrapped his fingers around himself roughly and bit his lip, watching Steve's face with glazed over eyes.

Bucky took them both in his hand and slowed his movements, stroking hard and deliberate. It elicited a drawn-out sigh from the captain whose face was now buried into his neck. He embraced the weight of Steve's body on his chest, almost suffocating. It felt real and raw and oddly comforting, and he let the captain press against him, wild and unapologetic.

It wouldn't take long. Steve tried to slow down but it felt so good, the honesty and desperation of it all. He wanted it to last but it had been decades for both of them. He would be a fool to think they could be at it all night.

Steve could feel the climax pooling in his abdomen and he forced his eyes open, pushing himself up enough to look at Bucky's face. He pulled away in the process, trying to gain some control, but the soldier's hips came up to meet his full force. He grabbed the front of Steve's shirt in his metal hand as though it were a life line and used his other to retake the captain's throbbing length along with his own. Bucky's lips were pink and swollen and his jaw fell open slightly as he watched himself continue his work, fingers constricting and thumb rotating in time with the thrusts of his pelvis. The captain was reaching the end of his rope.

Bucky's movements were becoming haphazard and he squeezed his eyes shut. Steve watched as the soldier's jaw clenched and he threw his head back, desperately chasing his release. He came with a gasp all over himself, back arching up off the couch.

It was a magnificent sight, and Steve's jaw fell open as he felt his climax nearing, despite the soldier's clumsy and tired movements. Bucky hissed and squirmed at the sensitivity of their bodies pressing together, dragging up and down his spent cock, but he trudged on, animalistic whines and shallow whimpers escaping his throat as he writhed. The filthy sounds that came from his old friend's mouth finally sent Steve over the edge and he spilled over Bucky's hand and chest, leaving a shining pool of sticky heat as evidence of what they'd done.

They clung to each other until Steve finally stopped panting, though it took Bucky a few moments longer to keep himself from twitching in the aftershocks. Steve absently grabbed a handful of tissues to clean off himself and his friend, secretly enjoying the debauchery of it all. He pushed the hair from Bucky's face where it clung, damp from exertion, and smiled when his eyes finally opened. Bucky stared off into the distance with a tired gaze, barely focused toward the dark corner of the ceiling.

"It felt right," Steve murmured in the silence. Bucky nodded slowly. He appeared to be on the teetering on the edge of sleep, though something seemed to trouble him.

Steve let his hand wander over the soldier's chest to comfort him, and Bucky's eyes fluttered shut. He nuzzled his face against the soft cushion and sighed, and the captain chuckled to himself at the sight of Bucky sprawled out shirtless, pants still tangled around his ankles, boots hooked over the other end of the couch. He shook his head to himself and tossed a pillow on the ground before lying on his back and crossing his arms over his chest. He was exhausted, and the feel of the hard floor beneath him was oddly comforting.

He was about to doze off when he felt a gentle hand fall against his cheek, and he peeked his eyes open to see Bucky's arm hanging over the edge, just far enough to reach him. He kissed the tips of the soldier's fingers and smiled before drifting off to sleep.