Summary: After years of struggling to overcome his seemingly endless list of addictions, Steve Rogers has been clean & sober for one year. In an effort to remain clean, to prove to himself that he can overcome his demons, he takes on the responsibility of becoming a sponsor. It’s wrong for a sponsor to feel a personal attachment to the ones they are sponsoring, but apparently Steve didn’t get that memo.
Bucky Barnes’ downfall was cocaine, he couldn’t keep his nose clean if his life depended on it. After overdosing for the third time, a judge ordered him to ‘get clean, or go to jail.’ Narcotics Anonymous wasn’t really Bucky’s thing, that was until he saw the blonde haired, blue eyed God that was going to be his sponsor.
Will Steve be able to separate his feelings from the addiction? Can Bucky overcome his primal urges and keep things professional?
Word Count: 1,536
Warnings for series: Illicit & casual drug use, explicit language, alcohol abuse, explicit sexual language, male receiving anal sex, male receiving oral sex, explicit sexual content, heavy angst, masturbation, possibly more to come
Author’s Note: This is going to be strictly a Stucky fic. There will be no reader involved. I wouldn’t be writing this without the unwavering support of @captain-rogers-beard & @climbthatmooselikeatree I love you. GIF Credit.
My work is not to be posted on any other sites (AO3, Wattpad, etc.) without my express written permission. Reblogs are fine.
Going into the next meeting, Steve was a bundle of nerves. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Bucky, and it was becoming problematic. He could hardly concentrate at work, on the football game, on simple conversations; Steve wanted Bucky all of the time. He wanted to run his fingers through Bucky’s hair, to straddle his thick thighs, to feel Bucky’s cock pulse –
“Hey, man,” Clint called out, brows furrowed. “You alright?”
Clearing his throat, Steve adjusted the way he was standing. “Yeah, brother,” he lied. “All good.”
Clint didn’t believe him, but he didn’t push the matter. Not yet, at least. Between the pair of them, Clint had been sober the longest, and he knew when his friend had started a new addiction. He knew the signs all too well, and Steve looked strung the hell out, but Clint knew that if he stepped in too soon, he could push Steve further.
Steve ran a hand through his hair before announcing the start of the meeting. “Welcome to Narcotics Anonymous,” he droned on, doing his best to keep his eyes from meeting Bucky’s. He stammered his way through how his week had gone, completely omitting the part where he wanted to fuck Bucky’s brains out, that he had made himself cum until he almost blacked out. By the time he stepped down, a cold sweat had broken out over the back of his neck and forehead.
Wanda was the first to take a stand behind the microphone, but Steve wasn’t listening, he couldn’t hear a thing, not over the roar of his own heart.
With his back pressed to the wall, Steve sucked down several glasses of water in a futile attempt to rid his mouth and throat of the cotton-like texture and taste that had been there the past forty-eight hours. Steve was grinding his teeth, shifting from one foot to the other, trying to keep from looking at Bucky, but with each second that passed, Steve had a harder time resisting the urge.
When his neck started aching, the muscles protesting loudly at being kept still for too long, Steve groaned heavily and gave the tight muscles a squeeze. He felt people’s eyes on him, their curiosity piqued, their worry heavy on their brows, but Steve managed to ignore them, barely. It wasn’t until he heard Bucky’s voice that Steve’s eyes flew open.
“I don’t remember all of it, but this week was a tough one,” he started, tucking some hair behind his ear. “The withdrawal was really bad this time, and I know that if I hadn’t snagged someone to be my sponsor, I wouldn’t be here. Steve came to my apartment and stayed there until I was able to crawl out of bed on my own two feet. Hell, he even cleaned up the joint.”
Chuckles worked their way through the room, but the only one that Steve could focus on was Bucky. The man was chewing on his bottom lip and started blushing, and fuck, did it send a surge of lust through Steve.
“I just wanted to get up here and say thanks, man,” Bucky murmured, ducking his head, smirking playfully.
Steve watched Bucky like a hawk as he strolled through the room, a cocky swagger on his hips, thumbs hooked into the loops on his jeans. It wasn’t until the man sat down that Steve pulled in a breath, deep and ragged.
“Alright,” he announced loudly from the back of the room, still leaning against the wall. “Thanks for sharing your hardships and successes tonight. We’ve all got a long road ahead of us, but if we stick together, we’ll uh… we’ll make it uh… to uh….”
Bucky had turned around and was looking at him, his dark eyes boring a hole through Steve, making it hard to focus on the words he was supposed to be saying.
“We’ll make it through,” Clint announced loudly, a fake smile on his lips. “God be with you.” After that, the room started to fill with friendly chatter.
Steve couldn’t stay there, in the same room as Bucky, for much longer. His jeans were too tight, his blood was pumping too fast, and his heart was fluttering painfully against his chest. Jesus… it was like being high all over again. Before he could tuck tail and run, Clint was in front of him.
“Hey,” he asked gently. “You don’t look so hot. Is there something I should know?”
“What do you… are you talking about?” Steve stammered, the knot in his throat becoming bigger.
Bucky was at the table, pouring himself a cup of shitty coffee, fifteen feet from the men. Steve could smell the spicy cologne that streaked down Bucky’s neck, the pack of Marlboro Reds tucked inside the leather jacket, the peppermint gum he had been chewing from the moment he walked in the door… he smelled good enough to fuck.
“Are you using again, man?“ The question took Steve by surprise.
His eyes went wide and he took a step back. “Wow,” he breathed. “You may as well have asked me to piss in a fuckin’ cup, man.”
“I didn’t say -”
“You didn’t fuckin’ have to,” Steve snarled angrily.
Clint arched a brow as he looked up at his friend. “Hold on one good goddamn minute, Steve. You’re my friend and I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine.” Steve stepped around Clint, their shoulders smashing together in a way that made Clint wince.
Steve stormed out of the building, down the stairs, around the block, and disappeared down a dark alley. Every inch of him was thrumming; anger, lust, frustration, desire, resentment, all of it was getting to be too much. He wanted to punch something and fuck someone, preferably at the same time.
“Hey, man,” someone called out from the mouth of the alley.
There was no pretending he didn’t know the voice. “Heya, Buck,” Steve said, tugging out a cigarette and lighter to keep from punching the brick wall.
Bucky strode through the shadows, his eyes never leaving Steve’s. “Got a little intense back there. You all good?”
Steve’s hand was shaking too bad, he couldn’t get his lighter to catch. “I will be,” he ground out through his teeth.
“Here, lemme help,” Bucky purred. He covered Steve’s hand with his own as he worked his thumb over the ignitor.
Steve watched as the flame ate at the end of his cigarette before pulling in a deep breath. His eyes flicked up to Bucky’s and it made the smoke catch in his throat. “Thanks,” he rasped.
“So,” Bucky pushed. “Do I need to be worried?”
“Worried?” Steve choked, his eyes wide. “Worried about what?”
Bucky chuckled as he reached for the cigarette between Steve’s fingers. “You’re my sponsor. If you’re off the wagon…” his voice tapered off as he pulled in a lazy drag.
“No,” Steve argued. “No, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m not in danger of falling off the wagon.”
Screwing your brains out, maybe.
After pulling in another drag, Bucky handed Steve the cigarette. “If you say so, Steve.” His voice was thick and low, sounding very much like the other day when he was jerking off in the shower.
Fuck.
The last of Steve’s resolve dissolved like sand in the water. He flicked the cigarette to the ground and stepped into Bucky’s airspace, two sets of stormy eyes searching the other, tongues darting out to dampen a bottom lip. With each step Bucky took back, Steve took a bigger one, and by the time Bucky’s back was against the wall, their chests were pressed together and their mouths were a whisper apart.
“What the…” Bucky rasped.
Neither of them moved for a minute, they just stood there, their hearts hammering, their breath mingling, their chests heaving.
“Tell me to stop,” Steve implored, nose brushing against Bucky’s, using a finger to tuck a lock of chestnut hair behind Bucky’s ear.
Bucky was shaking his head, pushing his cheek into Steve’s palm. “I won’t.”
“I’m your sponsor,” he argued weakly.
“I don’t care.” Bucky’s hands were on Steve’s waist, fingers squeezing.
Double fuck.
Sucking in a ragged breath, Steve crashed his lips into Bucky’s, kissing the man feverishly. The sounds that Bucky was making in the back of his throat when their tongues tangled were dark and sinful, sending electric pulses of arousal along Steve’s spine. With Bucky’s hands on Steve’s ass, Steve’s hips rocked into Bucky’s, trapping him against the wall. Steve’s hands itched to rip the clothes from Bucky’s body, to feel the heavy weight of his pulsing cock, and judging by the way Bucky was fumbling with Steve’s jeans, he knew Bucky felt the same way.
Bucky’s fingers had just crept into the waistband of Steve’s boxer briefs when there was a squealing sound at the mouth of the alley. Steve all but jumped back, sucking the cool air into his oxygen-deprived lungs. Once he realized what the sound was – a homeless person pushing a dilapidated shopping cart – he looked at Bucky and felt his heart sink.
“I uh… I should go,” Steve blurted out, regretting the words the moment they were out. He quickly adjusted his clothing and strode away.
FIVE
Everything: @captain-rogers-beard @because-imma-lady-assface @mrs-squirrel-chester @badassbaker @baezen @fatalcrossbow @sunriserose1023 @alyssaj23 @stevergxrs @ssweet-empowerment @supernatural-girl97 @thefridgeismybestie @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @palaiasaurus64 @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @nyxveracity @breezy1415 @titty-teetee @melaninmarvel @crazy-little-thing-called-buck @wildefire @capsheadquaters @qnzdiamond104 @saharzek @speakinvain @diinofayce @mizzzpink @pebblesz892 @stevieang @thatgirl-xx-thatgirl @iwillwakeherinthemorning @jakaraannodine @lea—-b @redqueen1221 @brittyevans @moisttoas-t @nuggsmumreads @anotherotter @jobean12-blog @fireismysaftey @msshadowboxer @vechkinfan @prettybubblesintheair @kanupps06 @rainbowkisses31 @janeyboo @banlaochranda @ellie-bee242 @shieldsandsunsets @evanstandream @punkrockhufflefluff @winters-beauty @unlikelygalaxygiver @thirtiethnovember @sexyvixen7 @whope123 @mscaptainjones @awkward-walking-potato @memory-of-a-goldfish @somethingwitty-somethingsweet @minarawr @xserenax-13 @keepyourheadup2018 @andiyholly @averyrogers83 @bionic-buckyb @princess76179 @carryonmywaywardcaptain @female-accountant @whitemoonstag @xxashy999xx @coffeewithjake @nerdgirljen @everythingisoverrated @angelsofalliteration @walkingtravesty97 @jbarnes87
Clean & Sober: @mistjif68 @pieceofsupersoldiertrash @imgonnaregretthisusername @river-night @raychic26 @colorful48 @neoncat1216 @imbiowaresbitch @papi-chulo-seb @lets-do-get-help @mrssgtjamesbuckybarnes @chaythegay @vgurl18
Stucky: @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @autoblocked @its–fandom–darling @eshia16 @daiiybuugle @delicatecapnerd @phoenix21love @natcad
Star Barnes' Writing Blog 