Red White and You

|15| Seventeen •3

sev•en•teen
/ˌsevənˈtēn,/

Семнадцать
/Semnadtsat'/

—————

"Wake up sleepy pants!" I yelled, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him awake.

"Jesus, Steve, what's wrong?" He asked, still groggy and half asleep.

"Uhh, hello? It's March 10... your 17th birthday! It's time to celebrate!"

"Uhh, hello? It's fucking six o'clock in the morning... if the sun can't be bothered to see this time of day, then neither should I."

"Normally, that would be fine... but today," I yanked the covers off of him and he curled up into a ball. "Today we have some extra fun things planned. So let's go!" I grabbed his ankles and started pulling him out of the bed.

"Alright alright already! I'll get up myself," he pulled away from me, trying not to smile, and stood up. "Okay I'm up. Now what?"

• • •

We spent the day out, at one of Bucky's (and one of my own) favorite places: Coney Island.

Roller coasters, popcorn, hot dogs, Ferris wheels and anything else he wanted to do.

By the time the sun went down it was 7 o'clock and we were pooped. All he wanted to do was go home. So we did.

• • •

"Home, at long-last," Bucky said as the front door of our apartment swung open.

"Time for the last of your surprises..." I brought him into the kitchen and presented him with a single cupcake. Light blue icing, black wrapper, vanilla sponge cake and a little candle lit on top.

"Steve..." he looked at me like 'you seriously did not have to do this'. Though the thing is, I kinda did.

I sang happy birthday, though it was very off key, as he waited to blow out the candle. "What'd you wish for?" I asked when he finally blew out the flame.

"None of your goddamn business... and besides, if I told you, then it would never even have a chance of coming true."

Good point. "Fine," I said. "Present time?" I asked.

"Steeeeeve!" He groaned. "Did you really... you didn't have to."

"Yes I did," I shot him a look. "Here... it ain't much, but I'm sure you'll like it."

He took it, in all of its brown paper bag wrapped-ness and carefully undid the thin, light, package.

The smile dropped from his face as he turned white with a slight tinge of blush. "Uhh... Steve?"

What the hell, he didn't like it? It's a picture. I drew the two of us on a bench in the park and th— oh no.

I must have accidentally ripped the wrong picture from my sketchbook... I grabbed the paper from his hands. Yup.

He looked at me in utter confusion and what seemed like disbelief. I scanned the paper before me only to see a relatively old drawing of mine.

It was of only Bucky, not the two of us like it was supposed to be. And it's not at the park. As matter of fact, it's a portrait of his face. His eyebrows were lowered seductively and his mouth was gaping open; it was like he was staring into my eyes mysteriously on purpose.

I looked up at him to see that the paleness in his face and confusion in his eyes had dissipated. Instead, all I felt was a sense of longing...

"Bucky... what're you-" I leaned back in confusion as he leaned closer to me over the table... what's he doing?

Then I felt chills overcome me as his lips brushed against mine, as we... kissed.

"Buck—" I tried to interject, he wouldn't let me. Instead, he just kissed me. Deeper, yet more delicate. Harder, yet more gentle. I tried to resist then, as if our of nothing, I remembered all my old feelings for him. Every single dirty thought I had about him over the years fell over me like a tsunami and rattled my insides.

Everything was shoved off of the small kitchen table as I crawled over it, our lips never parting. I settled in his lap and his hands met my face, just as mine met his.

He let out a fast breath of air and hummed as I ran my fingers through his hair.

This is insane! What the hell am I doing? This is so unlike me, so spontaneous. I mean, it's Bucky for fucks sake... I shouldn't feel this way. I shouldn't want this but, damn it! I do. Oh God I do, I want it, so bad. So bad that it's consuming me.

I've given in. This is me, giving up. One suspender undone, the other hanging over my shoulder, my shirt halfway unbuttoned and my slacks unzipped... messy hair, hungry eyes and my hands all over him. God, I can't stop touching him! Not that it bothers either one of us though...

His breath is getting faster and I can feel him getting hotter so I kiss him faster and touch him more tenderly... in undoing his shirt buttons, I begin to grind on him. He had been bothered for a while but now it was my turn. I'm getting all worked up and anxious of... well, I'm not so sure yet.

I can feel him pushing up on me through my slacks, so I unzip his pants. It's almost like he can sense the urgency in my actions. He starts to help me and pulls off my shirt, then his.

In an instant, his pants are down to his ankles and my shoes and pants are off entirely. All we're left in are our white under shirts.

Seeing... it... for the first time was overwhelming. I mean, not that I had expected anything less... well, actually, I hadn't even really through about it at all. He's massive, let me say that. Especially now that he's, well, hard. Not to avoid he fact that I, myself, am sporting a boner as well.

The small movements of my body rubbing on his, all hot and bare, push little moans out of him. I can hear small whispers falling from his parted lips when I push down on him.

"Steve..." he began, as a whisper, in my ear.

"Mmmm?" Was all I could manage.

"I— I want you. Please, God, please let me have you..." he whined.

"Then take me," I whispered back.

With that, I was lowered onto him, right then and there on the wooden kitchen chair.

I grunted at the sudden feeling of both pain and pleasure. A perfect mixture of the two, really.

I swayed with him back and forth, slowly lowering and rising in his lap, causing us both to moan hotly into each others ears.

He started pumping my dick out of nowhere and I shouted. His hand flew to my mouth and his eyes said 'we can't be too loud' so I stayed quiet.

I came first, probably because it was something that I had wanted for so many years. After that, I felt a warm pulse gush into me as he came and choked back his own groans.

Of all his birthdays thus far, I'm sure that Bucky received the best birthday present of all time this year, on his seventeenth birthday.

—————
• James_BuchananBarnes •