“Don’t talk like that,” Bucky’s voice says, unevenly harshly; when has Steve ever sounded this defeated? Even when the 1Fs rolled in, Steve never sounded so broken. Bucky’s hands frame the sides of Steve’s face as their foreheads touch, looking fiercely up at him like he can convince him that it’s not true. That if anyone, Bucky’s the one who’s not a damn thing without Steve there to light the way. “You’re the better fella out of the two of us, always have been, and if…”
Bucky trails off, because judging from the dawning shock on his face, finally, finally, gets it when Steve says he needs him. That maybe Bucky’s not the only one who might’ve had it bad: here Bucky had figured Steve was all in for the birds, just had bad luck, but they’re so, so close that Bucky’s nose flares and his eyes darken as he inhales Steve’s scent and his arms tighten around his neck as Steve’s nuzzles light as a butterfly’s caress against him.
It’s not the way a guy might look if he was just looking to scratch an itch and move on. Bucky’s heart flips. A sound squeezes out from his chest is low and shaky wanting; Steve wants him in a way Bucky only ever dreamed about. This has to be a fever dream. It’s gotta be. Thing is, Bucky wants it so badly, he’ll even take just a dream while he’s got a chance. Bucky’s face turns towards Steve softly, lashes lowered as he looks down at Steve’s mouth so close that his own lips just barely brush against it in a brush that sends hunger twining down his nerves. Bucky’s fingers splay over the nape of Steve’s neck, firm, holding him close.
“Steve, I -”
Bucky’s not even sure where he’s going with it, when the yearning is so tight and fierce in his chest that he can’t think straight when Steve’s this close, and when their lips tease against each other.
Steve’s the one to break, to leap into the fray like he always does.
Bucky gasps, a sharp, shocked sound muffled when Steve’s lips crash into his. It’s no soft kiss, easy or exploring. It’s bruising, hungry, and hard that Bucky’s toes curl in his boots as he groans thickly as arousal lances through him so fiercely that he jolts against Steve at the scratch of Steve’s beard and the soft touch of lips that’ve always looked a shade too generous for a guy.
Bucky’s arms tighten fiercely around Steve’s shoulders, as Bucky stumbles them back into the cabinet behind Steve just so he can savor the way they fit together like the missing pieces of a puzzle, and kisses him back like a drowning man finally offered water. His fingers slide through Steve’s hair, mussing up the back as he groans into the kiss with a muffled sound that might be a prayer and Steve’s name folded into one.
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Date: 2022-04-23 05:22 am (UTC)Bucky trails off, because judging from the dawning shock on his face, finally, finally, gets it when Steve says he needs him. That maybe Bucky’s not the only one who might’ve had it bad: here Bucky had figured Steve was all in for the birds, just had bad luck, but they’re so, so close that Bucky’s nose flares and his eyes darken as he inhales Steve’s scent and his arms tighten around his neck as Steve’s nuzzles light as a butterfly’s caress against him.
It’s not the way a guy might look if he was just looking to scratch an itch and move on. Bucky’s heart flips. A sound squeezes out from his chest is low and shaky wanting; Steve wants him in a way Bucky only ever dreamed about. This has to be a fever dream. It’s gotta be. Thing is, Bucky wants it so badly, he’ll even take just a dream while he’s got a chance. Bucky’s face turns towards Steve softly, lashes lowered as he looks down at Steve’s mouth so close that his own lips just barely brush against it in a brush that sends hunger twining down his nerves. Bucky’s fingers splay over the nape of Steve’s neck, firm, holding him close.
“Steve, I -”
Bucky’s not even sure where he’s going with it, when the yearning is so tight and fierce in his chest that he can’t think straight when Steve’s this close, and when their lips tease against each other.
Steve’s the one to break, to leap into the fray like he always does.
Bucky gasps, a sharp, shocked sound muffled when Steve’s lips crash into his. It’s no soft kiss, easy or exploring. It’s bruising, hungry, and hard that Bucky’s toes curl in his boots as he groans thickly as arousal lances through him so fiercely that he jolts against Steve at the scratch of Steve’s beard and the soft touch of lips that’ve always looked a shade too generous for a guy.
Bucky’s arms tighten fiercely around Steve’s shoulders, as Bucky stumbles them back into the cabinet behind Steve just so he can savor the way they fit together like the missing pieces of a puzzle, and kisses him back like a drowning man finally offered water. His fingers slide through Steve’s hair, mussing up the back as he groans into the kiss with a muffled sound that might be a prayer and Steve’s name folded into one.