Oh Captain!

Good Boy, Stevie!

It's been three weeks.

It's been three weeks since you absolutely rocked the hell out of Steve's world. Every moment alone he had he spent reliving the feeling of your grip on his jaw and your thighs around his waist. Every night he exhausted himself to the memory of you whispering 'cum for me, Stevie' in his ear. Every morning he had a raging hard on he spent way too way too many damn hours in the gym or on the track trying to work off. Passing you in the halls between mission briefings and operation updates and seeing that sly smirk on your lips wasn't helping matters at all. He felt like he was losing his mind. He might actually be losing his mind. He didn't know what to do anymore.

Steve had never been power hungry; he knew being Captain America was a great responsibility and he accepted it. He loved taking care of his country, fighting so that kid he used to be, that kid he still sees in the mirror, never had to deal with bullies again. He loved fighting to protect a nation of outspoken runts with a strong moral compass had a chance to change the world. But sometimes...sometimes he wished someone would take care of him. Then he met you.

Since that night, he'd been trying to get up the courage to talk to you. He wasn't exactly sure how to approach you. Your collective responsibilities as Avengers and Agents of SHIELD kept the promise of a second date and the promise of 'next time' hanging in the air. What happens now? What if it wasn't good for you? What if you changed your mind? What if you met someone else? His anxiety had been particularly brutal to deal with lately.

"You don't understand, Buck. I can't stop thinking about her. I can't stop dreaming about her. Stark was in the middle of showing me a new weapons defense system for the Compound and all I could think about was how good she felt around me. I'm pretty sure I accidentally called Nat by her name during training once," Steve confessed. Bucky couldn't help but snort at his best pal's dilemma. They were currently in the gym (when are they not, honestly?) working off some steam from Bucky's latest mission. Steve seemed so wound up over Y/N. Women of SHIELD had a particular way of wrapping a man around their pinkie fingers. Bucky understood that more than words could express.

"Oh-ho, Nat noticed. She's never going to let you live that down, punk," he laughed.

"Jerk," he shot back, "What am I going to do?"

"Do about what?" came the voice of a very grumpy Sam Wilson. He leaned against doorway with a furrowed brow. He was exhausted; how he was still standing and functioning after the insanity of this last month was unknown to even the gods. He looked like hell. And considering he'd just finished running 10 miles at the orders of Captain America, he felt like hell too. Goddamn super soldiers.

"Steve's all twisted up over Y/N. He hasn't quite figured out how to talk to her after she fucked him silly," Bucky replied, "You look like shit, man."

"Yeah well, not all of us are lucky enough to have super soldier serum to keep us going after a 3 week long grueling mission in goddamn Siberia," he snapped. Bucky chuckled wryly.

"Do you always use such fowl language at 7 in the morning, Sam?" Steve asked, laughing at his terrible pun. Sam shot him a dirty look.

"Give him a break, Wilson. [Y/N] is the first time he's been laid in months since Sharon broke up with him. He doesn't know how to cope with anything other than exercise."

"Just because the Capsicle here was in hibernation for-fucking-ever doesn't mean everyone else is as well rested. I need my sleep man!" Sam Wilson might have been a well-trained soldier but he was a man who took his sleep seriously.

"Language!" Steve chastised.

"Bite me, Rogers," Sam hissed. Bucky just snickered at the both of them.