I will
never get used to the fact that people read my tags tbh hahah

Yes, yes!! The
mental image

Don’t get me
wrong, I love me some cute, can’t-dance-for-shit Steve Rogers, but looking at
the way he fights, all those pirouettes , I don’t know why we don’t have more
fics in which he fucking knows his shit, but the serum clearly improved his
proprioception and balance…

Like, he doesn’t
necessarily have to be a pro or anything, just give me him dancing at a pub or something.

Maybe Bucky’s
just ordered his 3rd beer, turns around bottle in hand and he stops dead in his
tracks when his eyes fall on the most gorgeous human being he’s ever seen. And
that’s assuming this guy’s even human, because he looks like he stepped right
out of a Frank Frazetta cover, only, you know, even prettier and with more
ridiculously flawless proportions.

And “prettier”
is definitely an understatement here, because fuck, Bucky can see his eyelashes
from where he’s standing, and he doesn’t think there has ever been a time before
when he’s given a single fuck about eyelashes.

But what really
could make Bucky drool all over his shirt and not feel one tiny bit of
embarrassment about it is the way the guy’s moving. Cause maybe they’re not
some fancy, complicated dance moves, but he definitely knows what he’s doing.
Alternating between hard twists and slow, sensual body rolls in time with the
music. Swaying from side to side or arching his back in just the right way as
he runs a hand through his hair or down his front. It’s mouthwatering, enthralling.
Practically porn, considering how the only piece of clothing in the entire pub
that’s tighter that Bucky’s own jeans is this man’s shirt. Really, Bucky’s
surprised he hasn’t been kicked out for indecent exposure yet.

This asshole not
only has the most glorious body on Earth, but he also knows what to do with it,
knows how to move his hips and each limb in the most perfect way, and if
Bucky’s already half-hard in his pants well… it’s not like you can really blame
him. If this is what Mr. Let-me-hug-your-face-with-my-thighs here can do while
standing up, with gravity being a thing and all, Bucky can’t even begin to
imagine just how fucking good the guy’s gotta be in the sack.

Then the guy’s
friend, a practically equally hot man with perfect cheekbones, whispers
something into his ear, and Bucky’s throat goes tight as he watches his wet
dream turn and look right at him, smiling unabashedly as he rocks his hips more
pointedly, very clearly showing off the goods.

And yes, ok,
Bucky too can play this game. So he ignores the beer—that’s not the taste he
needs on his lips now anyway—and saunters up to him, not taking his eyes off of
him for a second and only vaguely registering his friend giving them some
space. Blond, tall and gorgeous smiles even wider, and wastes no time hooking
his fingers through Bucky’s belt loops as soon as he gets close enough. He
pulls him closer, murmurs “Name’s Steve” hotly into his ear, and holy fuck,
Bucky thinks he’s probably going to die here on this dancefloor, because not
only does he start moving both their hips in sync right away, but he also
smells amazingly, and as he replies with his own name it takes him all he is
not to nip at his jaw.

This close he’s
just obscenely beautiful. His lashes are even longer than they seemed, and all
Bucky wants is for those beautiful eyes to look up at him through them while Steve’s
perfect lips stretch around his cock. He all but whines when Steve’s tongue
comes out to wet them.

“Bucky…” Steve
repeats, voice low, like he’s tasting it, and the way it rolls off his lips,
plus Steve’s hand coming up to brush stray strands of hair from his face, is
what finally makes Bucky lose it. He grabs fistfuls of his practically transparent
Henley and yanks him down for a rough kiss, finesse not an option at this
point, but Steve seems pretty much ok with it, if the way he wraps an arm
around his waist and pulls him closer until they’re flush against each other is
any indication.

Steve doesn’t
even stand still while kissing, keeps rolling his hips into Bucky’s softly as
he tilts his head to grant his tongue better access, and Bucky doesn’t need any
more encouraging to deepen the kiss, swallowing down Steve’s moans as he does
his best to keep in mind that they’re in a very public place.

When they pull
back Steve’s panting, red tainting his cheeks and pupils blown, and Bucky
really needs him to either get down on his knees or bend him over the nearest
flat surface and eat him out and fuck him until he forgets his own name.

“Steve,” he
says, relishing in how it makes the man shiver, “pleasure to meet you, but that
shirt is definitely not appropriate for a night pub. Wanna come to my place so
I can lend you another?”

Steve visibly
swallows around the lump in his throat. “You can peel this one off me, but then
I’ll expect you to keep me from putting on a single piece of clothing for at
least 3 hours.”

And then Bucky’s
presses up against him, already too far gone to even try to hide how he’s hard
as a rock in his pants, groans: “deal,” and kisses him within an inch of his

This not-fic AU totally made my mouth water… Also, it totally reminded me of the Lindy fantasy of Steve & Bucky I’ve had since I started dancing a year ago now. Like so: (I love it when they switch lead & follow.)

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