"I think I could convince ya, Sam," Bucky starts gently before someone stands, a semi-regular Bucky has never been fond of. He grins, all sharp canines and feral attention, looking over his shoulder at the other alpha before Bucky also rises to his feet.
The metal hand moves from Sam's knee to Bucky's side as he positions himself between the Omega and the asshole alpha. He gives Sam's shoulder a gentle and reassuring squeeze as he turns to face the other alpha.
Bucky glances downward, unimpressed with the other man's showing.
"You wanna sweettalk him into it? You're welcome to try but he doesn't smell all that interested in you. No one us forcing anybody to do shit here tonight."
The other alpha laughs and grass his dick. "He's wet enough I ain't gotta talk, just pin him down a little. You like that pretty bird? If you don't fight me I don't break nothing."
Bucky growls at the outright threat to Sam's wellbeing and then it's a blur of motion. The other alpha steps forward (some hyena-type, Bucky guesses) and Bucky grabs him by the wrist and pulls. The noise of the man's arm dislocating is loud in the bar. So is his scream of pain, actually.
Bucky doesn't let go. He drives the other man to the floor on his knees by rotating the wrist he's got a hold of.
"We don't do that shit here. If Sam says no, means no, i ain't touching him, and you, you sad fucking sack with a sorry limp dick, for damn sure ain't gonna touch him. Get the fuck OUT."
Bucky hauls the man up and drags him toward the door, shoving him through it.
His breathing is coming out heavy. Aroused and angry can be a dangerous combo at the best of times and now? He's worried about Sam. About what Sam'll think of him. He tries and fails the breathe steadier from the doorway before he glances in Sam's direction.
Sam clocks him a very then and there. That wasn't just an alpha used to handling assholes. That was downright professional, and Sam has worked with enough vets to pon the difference. Also gives him more context for the advanced prosthetic. And for the tension in Bucky's shoulders.
Sam watches the whole thing. Steve hovers closer now, obviously both keeping an eye to see if he needs to interfere with the tussle, and to check up on Sam. It's sweet. Sam hopes Steve has someone who appreciates that level of sweet. He himself tosses Steve an exasperated look.
"What a mess. Can't believe I'm gonna fuck him."
Steve spotters, throws his hands up a little. "You know you don't have to."
And Sam just gives him the biggest shit eating grin ever. "Nah, I'm gonna."
So when Bucky looks back, Sam is no longer sitting at the bar. He doesn't have to worry about having ruined his chances though. As the rest of the bar goes back to business as usual now that the scene is over, Sam steps right into Bucky's personal space. Foolish to do with an agitated alpha, damn near brainless when that alpha is a wolf. But there is no fear radiating from Sam. He's trembling, but not because of anything bad with Bucky.
"It's okay. Breathe."
Slides his hands up the front of Bucky's chest, feels the way his breathing is still erratic, his heart going a mile a minute. Steps closee still, slides a hand over Bucky's neck wrist against skin to share scent. Tucks his face against Bucky's. Nuzzles him. Voice a soft whisper.
"What a good boy. What a strong alpha."
People balk at aggressive, aroused wolves. And here is Sam. Getting close and offering nothing but calm breath and sweet praise for the display, offering his proximity and his scent to soothe Bucky's agitation. Bucky protected him. And Sam rewards that with easy affection and acceptance of all that Bucky is. And they both know the risk. They both know Bucky's cocktail of arousal and aggression could well mean he might just snap and claim Sam as a reward. Perhaps Sam should let him, but when instincts are that sharp and agitated, who knows whether that would matter, when Sam is right there, available, smelling oh so sweet, and not put off by who and what Bucky is.
The column of his neck exposed for Bucky to pull that scent into his nostrils and get drunk on it.
It's 'puppy' again, Sam's sweet air and earth scent, the unexpected presence and touch that centers and grounds Bucky in an instant. His face pressed to Sam's neck, tongue pressing against skin where Bucky can smell his scent the strongest. Bucky breathes deep, steadying with each moment, his hands settling at Sam's waist.
"I want..." To press his tongue across every inch of Sam's rich skin. To take him to the back and press him into the bed and find out the taste of Sam's slick. To put the man's cock in his mouth until he knows what Sam's cum tastes like too.
"I want you. Here, now. In the back, just us." His hands tighten on Sam's waist. "You wanna?" His teeth worry at the skin beneath Sam's ear. "If you wanna go I'll walk you home." His hips roll against Sam's briefly. "Say yes, Pretty Bird. Please say yes. I want you real bad."
It's the fact that Bucky asks. That Bucky doesn't just take just yet but asks. Begs, almost. And yet makes it clear that if Sam says no, if Sam doesn't want what Bucky wants, he'll wall him home. And Sam doesn't know this man - but he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that if he gave a firm no, Bucky would respect it. Would see Sam home safe. He's a fire and Sam has been playing with it - but Bucky would never burn him unless Sam wanted him to.
Sam lets Bucky paw ot him. Melts into the hold, whispers at the teeth on his neck. Tangles his fingers in Bucky's hair and puts his lips to the wolf's ear. His tone is light and honey sweet.
"Sweet boy... strong alpha. You want me to say yes? You want me to open my legs for you? I wont."
For a moment the world doesn't exist. There's just the intimate sound of Sam's breath in Bucky's ear. And then... husky and low, with a bit of a whine, he coaxes this sweet wolf to give in to his wants. Sam gives up the power of a no with a simple challenge:
Bucky chuckles against Sam's skin, biting down just a little bit before he steps back and lets go of Sam entirely. He's grinning, wolfish again, sharp teeth visible just beyond the edge of his lips. He rolls his shoulders a little to force the muscles that are currently tensed to relax.
Part of him wants to press forward now but the rest of him would rather have at least a wall between him and the rest of the patrons.
"Will you run? Do I get to sniff you out?" He won't be upset if the answer is yes. "I'd like that."
Sam chuckles, drops his gaze for a moment. Then offers Bucky his hand. Calm. Like an invitation, rather than take up Bucky's obvious suggestion. And Sam doesn't miss it - the way Bucky doesn't ask for what he wants and needs. Just floats the idea as something he might like, as if it's not a big deal.
So Sam offers his hand like he's skipping the suggestion. Like he wants to take Bucky by the hand and lead him back.
And the moment Bucky moves to take the offered hand, Sam's mouth opens in a wolfish grin of his own - and he takes off running. Not towards the back, no. But away. Offering the chase. Offering Bucky a chance to run him down, grab him, drag him into the back room and have his merry way with his claim.
It's the continuation of the play Bucky started. It's a chase. Alpha hunting omega, not to maim but to catch, take, have. Prove strength and instinct and virility. Omega running from alpha, not to escape but to be pursued. Prove desirable and claimable.
So Sam teases Bucky. Lures Bucky. Runs from Bucky.
There's a bark of laughter from Bucky at this subterfuge and then they're off, Sam running toward the stockroom and kitchen with Bucky immediately cornering him, before he gives him room to escape. It continues on in this vein, with Bucky pinning and herding Sam towards the back rooms, reaching out, touching Sam on the small of his back, his wrist, his shoulder. Touch, allow Sam to bolt, follow.
Eventually Bucky gets Sam pinned in a corner near the door to the backroom. There's several moments of prolonged sniffing of Sam's neck, of pressing his hands all over Sam's chest and groin until he simply picks Sam up and hauls him over his shoulder as Bucky rushes into the room, dropping Sam on the bed on his back and leaning over him, trapping Sam's legs between his own.
He buries his face in Sam's neck, sucking a hickey into the skin there as he presses his hips against Sam's. "I can smell how wet you are," he growls lowly, before sitting up and flipping Sam over onto his stomach, metal hand coming around to quickly unfasten the fly of Sam's jeans.
Doesn't take much before he's got Sam's ass on display and without even thinking about it, Bucky buries his nose between those cheeks.
He's breathless by the time Bucky finally catches him. Not from exertion, but quickly rising excitement. Oh Bucky is good at playing. Doesn't just go for the immediate touch to show how amazing he is. Let's Sam run, let's them both hype each other up with "near misses". By the time he pins Sam, gropes him all over, Sam is smiling so wide it hurts. Sputters a "Don't you dare" but doesn't stop Bucky when he throws Sam over his shoulder.
And oh, Bucky's very correct. Sam whines and rocks against the alpha, feels the way his slick soaks through his underwear. And still, wanting though he so obviously is, Sam squirms, fights Bucky's easy man handling of him every step.of the way. As of he isn't desperate for this hook up. Considers himself oh so lucky to have attracted an alpha like this. Even if this is all they get, first names and a steamy backroom fuck, Sam will hold this man dear.
He mewls when Bucky makes to eat his ass, can't help but reach back and part his cheeks - but the sweetness of his scent dims when Sam feels a thick drop of slick dribble from his hole. Feels something anxious settle in him and tries to play if off.
"You're so sweet, but You don't gotta drink your fill, Buck. It's a lot. You can just fuck me."
Gives him an out. Humorous, self deprecating. A little bit ashamed. But still oh so wet and warm for Bucky, hole clenching on nothing, slick wet on his rim and his thighs. So very needy and so very wet, just for Bucky.
Bucky is already on his knees, mouth slightly open, staring at that wet drip leaving Sam's hole and making it's way towards the bedcovers. Sam opens wide and Bucky whines a little before the change in Sam's scent and what Sam is and isn't saying soaked in to his brain.
"Know I ain't gotta. Wanna," which is all the warning Sam gets before Bucky's fave, his mouth, is right there on Sam's hole, licking and probing with his tongue, fingers interlaced with Sam's on his asscheeks.
Bucky would love to do just this all night. His very hard dick has other priorities, though, which means it's only about five minutes before he's coming up for air, flesh and blood hand reaching around Sam's waist and wrapping around Sam's cock, a mix of Sam's slick and Bucky's saliva on his palm. The metal one goes for his own button and zipper before returning to spread Sam open from at least one side. He gets his pants off, shoes too, and then he's pressing his chest to Sam's back. The way this night is going there's no way Bucky doesn't pop a knot before long, but he's used to navigating how long he's got before things get untenable.
He'd hate to actually hurt Sam or scare him off. Already his mind is trying to spin how 'next time' might play out and that won't happen if his knot scares the other man away.
He lets his cock sort of slide between Sam's asscheeks for a moment before he slowly works himself in. There's no real question about whether or not Bucky can just slide in; he's never managed to slide his dick into anything smaller than the palm of his own hand before. Even as wet as Sam is right now it's not enough preparation for Bucky to get too deep.
The few inches he does manage before he's rocking in and out, slowly dragging his cock past that ring of tight muscle? Fucking heaven. Sam is so tight it sets Bucky to a low babble of praise, telling Sam about how amazingly wet and tight he is. How good he feels.
Bucky strokes Sam's dick at the same rate as he fucks into him, slow but steady, inescapable in his presence.
Those minutes with Bucky's face buried in his ass are pure bliss that Sam rarely experiences. Many alphas consider bird slick way too much in amount, taste, smell. So Sam is used to only getting eaten or fingered as bare minimum foreplay to get him wet enough to take dick. With Bucky it almost feels like the alpha is actually into it, like he'd be pleased to learn that Sam could come from just this - untouched, just having someone eat his ass like they really wanna.
Goddamn amazing.
The alphas dick is almost too much. Has Sam squirm as if trying to get away. It feels like he's being ripped apart, like there's no room for air inside of him. It's been a while since he's taken dick, so he knows he's as tight as he could be, and wolves tend to run big - but goddamn. He can't imagine this is half as pleasurable for Bucky as his babbling makes it sound - Sam.for hisnpart feels like he grips him like a vice, makes movement needlessly difficult. And oh he gets noisy here - doesn't talk back, but whines and whimpers and mewls, helpless to do Mich but take it as best he can, sounding increasingly desperate. His orgasm takes him by surprised, the messy slick slide of Bucky's hand on his dick combined with being filled better than he can remember having ever been filled, and it just rips him over, makes him shake, unable to keep himself upright under the relentless onslaught on his poor little hole, clenching down hard on Bucky and begging please, please, please.
Sam's whole body, it feels like, convulses and clenches down on Bucky's cock and it's only an entire lifetime of practice that stops him from just pressing forward, from seating his cock in as deep as he can, and damn the consequences.
He comes, though, hard and panting in Sam's ear. It surprises him just a little, but it's been a minute and Sam is the perfect combination of wet and tight that he can't help himself and doesn't even try. His knot rests just outside Sam's ass for a moment, spreading his cheeks apart and Bucky adjusts himself so he can see the contrast between the swollen red membranes and the perfect dark brown skin.
Bucky could get used to that view, he thinks. God, what he wouldn't give for the opportunity.
"Can I eat it out of you?" His voice is rough and his dick twitches at the thought. Fuck, he could get hard right away even if Sam is grossed out by the idea (but something makes him think that Sam won't be).
Sam knows it's impossible to feel every ribbon of cum that Bucky generously pumps into him... and yet. Something primal and deep inside of him wants to keen at the feeling of hot cum flooding his hole. He wishes desperately that he could see it leak out of him around Bucky's cock and knot that presses hot and heavy against his rim.
And for a moment Sam wants to throw all reason to the wind, rock back and ask Bucky to stuff it inside no matter how much it would hurt. Wants to be split apart like that so desperately that he nearly gets off a second time from the thought alone.
Thank fuck it's not considered good manners to knot in back rooms. Too inconvenient for everyone involved. And Sam is about to offer that Bucky stay inside of him and just rub his knot against Sam's slick hole to milk Bucky dry, to make sure the take care of him.
But then Bucky makes his suggestion, and it makes Sam clench down hard again, whining with how hot he is doe the idea.
"You're filthy" he gripes, then shifts. Just lowers himself to the pillow underneath and reaches back to spread his plump cheeks wide, legs shifting further too. "Playing with your food. Unbelievable." But that's real fond humour in the quip.
"I know how to enjoy the finer things. Like how perfectly round your ass is." Also his skin is very soft and lovely to touch, but that might be a slightly creeptastic thing to say right now, even with all other things considered. "And how good you smell all fucked out right now." Bucky licks a long stripe along Sam's skin, from his balls all the way up to the small of his back, repeating that action a few times before he nibbles on one round asscheek and then goes to town. It's a messy business, eating out someone's ass much less eating cum but Bucky has no qualms or hesitations about how much of it ends up on his face and chin and a little on his chest too, soaking into the material of his t-shirt.
When he's done, when Sam smells like Bucky in more than one way but there's no more cum to slurp out, he flips the other man over and grins before grabbing Sam's face and kissing him. Possibly not the most thought-out he's ever made but he's had a great time and is still ragingly horny; perhaps Bucky can be forgiven.
Sam is on heaven. It has been too long since he's had the pleasure, and know what a mess Bucky is eating up with such gusto just makes it alle the better. Sam can't help how eagerly he grinds against that pretty face. Can't help how incoherently he praises Bucky's tongue, encourages every swipe of tongue and every scrape of teeth on his puffy, sensitive rim.
He's basically boneless when Bucky flips him over, makes a soft noise that could be protest but isn't when Bucky enforces thay filthy kiss on him. No, that noise is a shocked gasp that melts seamlessly into a deep and dirty moan. Sam's mouth opens for Bucky, as warm and wet in its welcome as his hole had been for the alpha. And he keeps making those greedy sounds into the kiss, into the messy exchange of slick and cum between their mouths. Sam licks the mess from Bucky's tongue, teases him to give chase here too.
And oh his hands are clenched in Bucky's shirt, and after a moment the strong muscles flex in his quivering thighs, he angles his hips up. And then he's seeking friction in Bucky's thigh. His own cock soft, but his hole leaves warm slick.
He would apologise, but he's so needy it's hard to think. Sam breaks the kiss. Stares up at Bucky, face a glistening mess after that kiss. Dark eyes swallowed damn near hole by how wide his pupils are. He whimpers, still clutching Bucky.
"Oh baby, I wanna so bad I can barely think about anything else. Except the kitchen here sucks, and this mattress is sad, and I don't wanna make you breakfast in that rinky-dink fuckin' affair." It's not a line; it comes out a little too rushed and Bucky's eyes go from relaxed to wide in a very unwolflike manner as soon as he says it.
Well. Guess that particular desire is out in the open.
He noses Sam's cheek. "I wanna fuck you again. I wanna see you wake up." A soft but messy kiss. "That okay, baby? You can always change your mind, but my dick would follow you across state lines, and that's a fact."
A tongue swipes across Sam's lips and then he pulls himself back to sit on his knees. "I'll walk ya home. Scared if we go to my place we ain't gonna make it out the elevator." And there are too many floors to take the stairs.
Bucky's earnest desire is rewarded with a pleased whine at the back of Sam's throat, the thought almost too good on it's own merit. Sam wants the whole deal - fucking until he can kiss his morning run goodbye, breakfast in bed, maybe even with food instead of just eating each other's cum. Maybe Bucky could fuck him so good in the shower Sam's prude neighbours would faint from the noises.
"I don't live too far. I can take you home. You can come inside - a lot. All night, and for breakfast. But first..."
Sam lies back, pushes his shirt up and runs his hands over his torso. Squeezes his pecs and make sure Bucky's looking.
"You cleaned me up too good. Wanna walk home marked up." Sam licks his lips. He smells so inviting. "Pleay with yourself for me. Paint my tits, puppy. Show me my place."
"Oh, fuck, Sam," Bucky murmurs in a sort of rapturous joy. The fact that his dick practically springs up to hit him in the lower abdomen at the suggestion would likely be a clear indicator of just how excited Bucky is at the prospect. "Perfect ass, perfect fucking tits, perfect smell." He licks his hand, still covered a bit with Sam's slick, his own saliva, and Sam's cum. "Perfect all-around."
Bucky could touch himself to cause a paint-splattered work of art across Sam's chest, but the prospect of rubbing his cock and his very hard knot across all that soft, brown skin is too exciting. He drags the heavy, wet tip of his cock down the center of Sam's chest, swipes to the left, then to the right, circling the precum and the remains of his earlier orgasm across Sam's nipples. He arranges himself so that as he's leaning over Sam he is also keeping Sam's legs caught between his own, his toes tucked beneath Sam's thighs. It doesn't take long for spurts to begin coating Sam's skin, Bucky grunting on every exhale.
And with every grunt Bucky gives him while painting Sam's chest, Sam moans as if Bucky's nailing his sweet spot, as if this is enough to get him off. A little reward and encouragement for the performance.
"So generous to me..." And Sam feels a splatter hit his bottom lip, his jawline. Doesn't bother wiping or licking it away. Lets Bucky enjoy the sight of thick white droplets on rich dark skin as Sam trails his fingers through the mess, teases his nipples and relaxes with a sigh. He reeks of the alpha. He's a mess.
It's amazing.
"Alright. God I wanna continue but... lets get somewhere comfortable enough for me to split apart on that that rifle you're packing."
"You want your shirt or you just gonna..." Bucky gestures toward Sam's chest with a cocky but contented smile. He leans back, casting around for his jeans and underwear before gingerly tucking himself away, though zipping the denim isn't even the idea of an option right now. "No complaints either way. Might be a little cold, though."
Either way, Bucky picks up individual items of clothing for both of them, placing Sam's on the pillow before he bounces at the edge of the bed. "I'm glad we did this. Are doing this."
"Tempting - but you're right. It's too cold." He does let Bucky get one last good look before he pulls his shirt over the mess. It's probably ruined - Sam's good at getting slick out of sheets, but getting an alpha wolf's cum our of his shirt seems like an herculean task he doesn't wanna undertake.
Maybe the shirt can be emergency relief assistance for his next heat I'd he's still flying solo then - they're having a good time but Sam is fad from presuming more right now. All in due time.
"Me too, puppy. Been a while since I've had this much fun with someone." A soft kiss - surprisingly sweet. "Thank you, Bucky."
The walk home is a blur. Steve is tipped generously, the night air is biting, they barely get a block before they paw at each other in an alley just off the street, in clear view of anyone walking past and not caring.
By the time they arrive at Sam's place, they're both giddy with it, drunk on each other's scents. And it feels so joyful. The apartment is nice - but Sam is a bird, so it should come as no surprise that he enjoys a lovely nest. Tastefully decorated, with hints of so mich of what Sam likes. Marvin Gaye vinyls, a wine rack with some very nice options, cozy blankets, sugary cereal on the kitchen counter. A picture of a woman who looks very similar to Sam, and what appear to be her two kids, alongside some other family photos. A threadbare air force shirt over the back of the couch, a full book shelf, tasteful art on the walls. And the place smells comfortably of Sam. If there has ever been another alpha in here, not even Bucky's sensitive nose will be able to tell, suggesting it has indeed been a long, long time.
And then of course there's Sam's bedroom. The bed is massive, but it has pillows and blankets arranged in a way where to sleep in it must be to feel snug in a nice nest.
Of course all of that would be nice to take in... but it's a blur because Sam runs the moment they're through the front door, hears Bucky immediately on his heels as he gives chase.
They crash into that lovely bed with enough force to make the headboard slam against the wall, and Sam is on his back beneath Bucky as they're tearing at each other's clothes with far more haste and urgency than elegance.
Sam hears fabric rip and doesn't care, but mewls with delight when he gets to his prize first - and manages to get Bucky's pants down enough to finally get a good look at his cock.
And damn. Just... damn. Holy shit.
The scent of slick hits the air hard and fast, Sam's mouth falling open as he just watches his hand struggle to even close around that girth. Holy shit.
"I've never had a knot before." Faced with this, he has to share it. Because he can tell this would require training and practice, not just slick and wishful thinking. "So just... holy shit, puppy, I want you to make it hurt so good, okay, stuff this in me and use me good, but we can't... I'm too tight to take that knot tonight. Everything else though. You can make me take everything else."
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The metal hand moves from Sam's knee to Bucky's side as he positions himself between the Omega and the asshole alpha. He gives Sam's shoulder a gentle and reassuring squeeze as he turns to face the other alpha.
Bucky glances downward, unimpressed with the other man's showing.
"You wanna sweettalk him into it? You're welcome to try but he doesn't smell all that interested in you. No one us forcing anybody to do shit here tonight."
The other alpha laughs and grass his dick. "He's wet enough I ain't gotta talk, just pin him down a little. You like that pretty bird? If you don't fight me I don't break nothing."
Bucky growls at the outright threat to Sam's wellbeing and then it's a blur of motion. The other alpha steps forward (some hyena-type, Bucky guesses) and Bucky grabs him by the wrist and pulls. The noise of the man's arm dislocating is loud in the bar. So is his scream of pain, actually.
Bucky doesn't let go. He drives the other man to the floor on his knees by rotating the wrist he's got a hold of.
"We don't do that shit here. If Sam says no, means no, i ain't touching him, and you, you sad fucking sack with a sorry limp dick, for damn sure ain't gonna touch him. Get the fuck OUT."
Bucky hauls the man up and drags him toward the door, shoving him through it.
His breathing is coming out heavy. Aroused and angry can be a dangerous combo at the best of times and now? He's worried about Sam. About what Sam'll think of him. He tries and fails the breathe steadier from the doorway before he glances in Sam's direction.
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Sam watches the whole thing. Steve hovers closer now, obviously both keeping an eye to see if he needs to interfere with the tussle, and to check up on Sam. It's sweet. Sam hopes Steve has someone who appreciates that level of sweet. He himself tosses Steve an exasperated look.
"What a mess. Can't believe I'm gonna fuck him."
Steve spotters, throws his hands up a little. "You know you don't have to."
And Sam just gives him the biggest shit eating grin ever. "Nah, I'm gonna."
So when Bucky looks back, Sam is no longer sitting at the bar. He doesn't have to worry about having ruined his chances though. As the rest of the bar goes back to business as usual now that the scene is over, Sam steps right into Bucky's personal space. Foolish to do with an agitated alpha, damn near brainless when that alpha is a wolf. But there is no fear radiating from Sam. He's trembling, but not because of anything bad with Bucky.
"It's okay. Breathe."
Slides his hands up the front of Bucky's chest, feels the way his breathing is still erratic, his heart going a mile a minute. Steps closee still, slides a hand over Bucky's neck wrist against skin to share scent. Tucks his face against Bucky's. Nuzzles him. Voice a soft whisper.
"What a good boy. What a strong alpha."
People balk at aggressive, aroused wolves. And here is Sam. Getting close and offering nothing but calm breath and sweet praise for the display, offering his proximity and his scent to soothe Bucky's agitation. Bucky protected him. And Sam rewards that with easy affection and acceptance of all that Bucky is. And they both know the risk. They both know Bucky's cocktail of arousal and aggression could well mean he might just snap and claim Sam as a reward. Perhaps Sam should let him, but when instincts are that sharp and agitated, who knows whether that would matter, when Sam is right there, available, smelling oh so sweet, and not put off by who and what Bucky is.
The column of his neck exposed for Bucky to pull that scent into his nostrils and get drunk on it.
"You did so well, puppy."
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"I want..." To press his tongue across every inch of Sam's rich skin. To take him to the back and press him into the bed and find out the taste of Sam's slick. To put the man's cock in his mouth until he knows what Sam's cum tastes like too.
"I want you. Here, now. In the back, just us." His hands tighten on Sam's waist. "You wanna?" His teeth worry at the skin beneath Sam's ear. "If you wanna go I'll walk you home." His hips roll against Sam's briefly. "Say yes, Pretty Bird. Please say yes. I want you real bad."
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Sam lets Bucky paw ot him. Melts into the hold, whispers at the teeth on his neck. Tangles his fingers in Bucky's hair and puts his lips to the wolf's ear. His tone is light and honey sweet.
"Sweet boy... strong alpha. You want me to say yes? You want me to open my legs for you? I wont."
For a moment the world doesn't exist. There's just the intimate sound of Sam's breath in Bucky's ear. And then... husky and low, with a bit of a whine, he coaxes this sweet wolf to give in to his wants. Sam gives up the power of a no with a simple challenge:
"So you gotta make me."
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Part of him wants to press forward now but the rest of him would rather have at least a wall between him and the rest of the patrons.
"Will you run? Do I get to sniff you out?" He won't be upset if the answer is yes. "I'd like that."
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Sam chuckles, drops his gaze for a moment. Then offers Bucky his hand. Calm. Like an invitation, rather than take up Bucky's obvious suggestion. And Sam doesn't miss it - the way Bucky doesn't ask for what he wants and needs. Just floats the idea as something he might like, as if it's not a big deal.
So Sam offers his hand like he's skipping the suggestion. Like he wants to take Bucky by the hand and lead him back.
And the moment Bucky moves to take the offered hand, Sam's mouth opens in a wolfish grin of his own - and he takes off running. Not towards the back, no. But away. Offering the chase. Offering Bucky a chance to run him down, grab him, drag him into the back room and have his merry way with his claim.
It's the continuation of the play Bucky started. It's a chase. Alpha hunting omega, not to maim but to catch, take, have. Prove strength and instinct and virility. Omega running from alpha, not to escape but to be pursued. Prove desirable and claimable.
So Sam teases Bucky. Lures Bucky. Runs from Bucky.
Plays with Bucky.
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Eventually Bucky gets Sam pinned in a corner near the door to the backroom. There's several moments of prolonged sniffing of Sam's neck, of pressing his hands all over Sam's chest and groin until he simply picks Sam up and hauls him over his shoulder as Bucky rushes into the room, dropping Sam on the bed on his back and leaning over him, trapping Sam's legs between his own.
He buries his face in Sam's neck, sucking a hickey into the skin there as he presses his hips against Sam's. "I can smell how wet you are," he growls lowly, before sitting up and flipping Sam over onto his stomach, metal hand coming around to quickly unfasten the fly of Sam's jeans.
Doesn't take much before he's got Sam's ass on display and without even thinking about it, Bucky buries his nose between those cheeks.
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And oh, Bucky's very correct. Sam whines and rocks against the alpha, feels the way his slick soaks through his underwear. And still, wanting though he so obviously is, Sam squirms, fights Bucky's easy man handling of him every step.of the way. As of he isn't desperate for this hook up. Considers himself oh so lucky to have attracted an alpha like this. Even if this is all they get, first names and a steamy backroom fuck, Sam will hold this man dear.
He mewls when Bucky makes to eat his ass, can't help but reach back and part his cheeks - but the sweetness of his scent dims when Sam feels a thick drop of slick dribble from his hole. Feels something anxious settle in him and tries to play if off.
"You're so sweet, but You don't gotta drink your fill, Buck. It's a lot. You can just fuck me."
Gives him an out. Humorous, self deprecating. A little bit ashamed. But still oh so wet and warm for Bucky, hole clenching on nothing, slick wet on his rim and his thighs. So very needy and so very wet, just for Bucky.
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"Know I ain't gotta. Wanna," which is all the warning Sam gets before Bucky's fave, his mouth, is right there on Sam's hole, licking and probing with his tongue, fingers interlaced with Sam's on his asscheeks.
Bucky would love to do just this all night. His very hard dick has other priorities, though, which means it's only about five minutes before he's coming up for air, flesh and blood hand reaching around Sam's waist and wrapping around Sam's cock, a mix of Sam's slick and Bucky's saliva on his palm. The metal one goes for his own button and zipper before returning to spread Sam open from at least one side. He gets his pants off, shoes too, and then he's pressing his chest to Sam's back. The way this night is going there's no way Bucky doesn't pop a knot before long, but he's used to navigating how long he's got before things get untenable.
He'd hate to actually hurt Sam or scare him off. Already his mind is trying to spin how 'next time' might play out and that won't happen if his knot scares the other man away.
He lets his cock sort of slide between Sam's asscheeks for a moment before he slowly works himself in. There's no real question about whether or not Bucky can just slide in; he's never managed to slide his dick into anything smaller than the palm of his own hand before. Even as wet as Sam is right now it's not enough preparation for Bucky to get too deep.
The few inches he does manage before he's rocking in and out, slowly dragging his cock past that ring of tight muscle? Fucking heaven. Sam is so tight it sets Bucky to a low babble of praise, telling Sam about how amazingly wet and tight he is. How good he feels.
Bucky strokes Sam's dick at the same rate as he fucks into him, slow but steady, inescapable in his presence.
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Goddamn amazing.
The alphas dick is almost too much. Has Sam squirm as if trying to get away. It feels like he's being ripped apart, like there's no room for air inside of him. It's been a while since he's taken dick, so he knows he's as tight as he could be, and wolves tend to run big - but goddamn. He can't imagine this is half as pleasurable for Bucky as his babbling makes it sound - Sam.for hisnpart feels like he grips him like a vice, makes movement needlessly difficult. And oh he gets noisy here - doesn't talk back, but whines and whimpers and mewls, helpless to do Mich but take it as best he can, sounding increasingly desperate. His orgasm takes him by surprised, the messy slick slide of Bucky's hand on his dick combined with being filled better than he can remember having ever been filled, and it just rips him over, makes him shake, unable to keep himself upright under the relentless onslaught on his poor little hole, clenching down hard on Bucky and begging please, please, please.
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He comes, though, hard and panting in Sam's ear. It surprises him just a little, but it's been a minute and Sam is the perfect combination of wet and tight that he can't help himself and doesn't even try. His knot rests just outside Sam's ass for a moment, spreading his cheeks apart and Bucky adjusts himself so he can see the contrast between the swollen red membranes and the perfect dark brown skin.
Bucky could get used to that view, he thinks. God, what he wouldn't give for the opportunity.
"Can I eat it out of you?" His voice is rough and his dick twitches at the thought. Fuck, he could get hard right away even if Sam is grossed out by the idea (but something makes him think that Sam won't be).
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And for a moment Sam wants to throw all reason to the wind, rock back and ask Bucky to stuff it inside no matter how much it would hurt. Wants to be split apart like that so desperately that he nearly gets off a second time from the thought alone.
Thank fuck it's not considered good manners to knot in back rooms. Too inconvenient for everyone involved. And Sam is about to offer that Bucky stay inside of him and just rub his knot against Sam's slick hole to milk Bucky dry, to make sure the take care of him.
But then Bucky makes his suggestion, and it makes Sam clench down hard again, whining with how hot he is doe the idea.
"You're filthy" he gripes, then shifts. Just lowers himself to the pillow underneath and reaches back to spread his plump cheeks wide, legs shifting further too. "Playing with your food. Unbelievable." But that's real fond humour in the quip.
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When he's done, when Sam smells like Bucky in more than one way but there's no more cum to slurp out, he flips the other man over and grins before grabbing Sam's face and kissing him. Possibly not the most thought-out he's ever made but he's had a great time and is still ragingly horny; perhaps Bucky can be forgiven.
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He's basically boneless when Bucky flips him over, makes a soft noise that could be protest but isn't when Bucky enforces thay filthy kiss on him. No, that noise is a shocked gasp that melts seamlessly into a deep and dirty moan. Sam's mouth opens for Bucky, as warm and wet in its welcome as his hole had been for the alpha. And he keeps making those greedy sounds into the kiss, into the messy exchange of slick and cum between their mouths. Sam licks the mess from Bucky's tongue, teases him to give chase here too.
And oh his hands are clenched in Bucky's shirt, and after a moment the strong muscles flex in his quivering thighs, he angles his hips up. And then he's seeking friction in Bucky's thigh. His own cock soft, but his hole leaves warm slick.
He would apologise, but he's so needy it's hard to think. Sam breaks the kiss. Stares up at Bucky, face a glistening mess after that kiss. Dark eyes swallowed damn near hole by how wide his pupils are. He whimpers, still clutching Bucky.
"Do it again. Fuck me, alpha. Take me. Please."
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Well. Guess that particular desire is out in the open.
He noses Sam's cheek. "I wanna fuck you again. I wanna see you wake up." A soft but messy kiss. "That okay, baby? You can always change your mind, but my dick would follow you across state lines, and that's a fact."
A tongue swipes across Sam's lips and then he pulls himself back to sit on his knees. "I'll walk ya home. Scared if we go to my place we ain't gonna make it out the elevator." And there are too many floors to take the stairs.
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"I don't live too far. I can take you home. You can come inside - a lot. All night, and for breakfast. But first..."
Sam lies back, pushes his shirt up and runs his hands over his torso. Squeezes his pecs and make sure Bucky's looking.
"You cleaned me up too good. Wanna walk home marked up." Sam licks his lips. He smells so inviting. "Pleay with yourself for me. Paint my tits, puppy. Show me my place."
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Bucky could touch himself to cause a paint-splattered work of art across Sam's chest, but the prospect of rubbing his cock and his very hard knot across all that soft, brown skin is too exciting. He drags the heavy, wet tip of his cock down the center of Sam's chest, swipes to the left, then to the right, circling the precum and the remains of his earlier orgasm across Sam's nipples. He arranges himself so that as he's leaning over Sam he is also keeping Sam's legs caught between his own, his toes tucked beneath Sam's thighs. It doesn't take long for spurts to begin coating Sam's skin, Bucky grunting on every exhale.
"So pretty, Perfect Bird."
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And with every grunt Bucky gives him while painting Sam's chest, Sam moans as if Bucky's nailing his sweet spot, as if this is enough to get him off. A little reward and encouragement for the performance.
"So generous to me..."
And Sam feels a splatter hit his bottom lip, his jawline. Doesn't bother wiping or licking it away. Lets Bucky enjoy the sight of thick white droplets on rich dark skin as Sam trails his fingers through the mess, teases his nipples and relaxes with a sigh. He reeks of the alpha. He's a mess.
It's amazing.
"Alright. God I wanna continue but... lets get somewhere comfortable enough for me to split apart on that that rifle you're packing."
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Either way, Bucky picks up individual items of clothing for both of them, placing Sam's on the pillow before he bounces at the edge of the bed. "I'm glad we did this. Are doing this."
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Maybe the shirt can be emergency relief assistance for his next heat I'd he's still flying solo then - they're having a good time but Sam is fad from presuming more right now. All in due time.
"Me too, puppy. Been a while since I've had this much fun with someone." A soft kiss - surprisingly sweet. "Thank you, Bucky."
The walk home is a blur. Steve is tipped generously, the night air is biting, they barely get a block before they paw at each other in an alley just off the street, in clear view of anyone walking past and not caring.
By the time they arrive at Sam's place, they're both giddy with it, drunk on each other's scents. And it feels so joyful. The apartment is nice - but Sam is a bird, so it should come as no surprise that he enjoys a lovely nest. Tastefully decorated, with hints of so mich of what Sam likes. Marvin Gaye vinyls, a wine rack with some very nice options, cozy blankets, sugary cereal on the kitchen counter. A picture of a woman who looks very similar to Sam, and what appear to be her two kids, alongside some other family photos. A threadbare air force shirt over the back of the couch, a full book shelf, tasteful art on the walls. And the place smells comfortably of Sam. If there has ever been another alpha in here, not even Bucky's sensitive nose will be able to tell, suggesting it has indeed been a long, long time.
And then of course there's Sam's bedroom. The bed is massive, but it has pillows and blankets arranged in a way where to sleep in it must be to feel snug in a nice nest.
Of course all of that would be nice to take in... but it's a blur because Sam runs the moment they're through the front door, hears Bucky immediately on his heels as he gives chase.
They crash into that lovely bed with enough force to make the headboard slam against the wall, and Sam is on his back beneath Bucky as they're tearing at each other's clothes with far more haste and urgency than elegance.
Sam hears fabric rip and doesn't care, but mewls with delight when he gets to his prize first - and manages to get Bucky's pants down enough to finally get a good look at his cock.
And damn. Just... damn. Holy shit.
The scent of slick hits the air hard and fast, Sam's mouth falling open as he just watches his hand struggle to even close around that girth. Holy shit.
"I've never had a knot before." Faced with this, he has to share it. Because he can tell this would require training and practice, not just slick and wishful thinking. "So just... holy shit, puppy, I want you to make it hurt so good, okay, stuff this in me and use me good, but we can't... I'm too tight to take that knot tonight. Everything else though. You can make me take everything else."