“Fucking hell, promise, I won’t,” Bucky’s voice hitches as Steve Rogers, America’s guy, sucks a goddamn hicky on his throat. Like he’s planting a flag for anyone to see, and Bucky’s has to scrunch his eyes closed at the surge of lust so sudden that for an actual second, he’s worried about losing it way, way too early like he’s teenager again. God, between Steve growling an order and a tease in a deep voice gone husky, and the feeling of Steve’s hot cock trapped against his, Bucky feels a little like he’s losing it. He grinds gracelessly into the grip, while blunt nails sink into the meat of Steve’s ass as he drags him against him with a muffled curse pressed against Steve’s skin at the grip gone tight like it’s a punishment.
The sound that gets poured into Steve’s mouth is shameful: scalp smarting under Steve’s grip, Bucky’s body rocks upwards in a hungry, greedy arc that nearly knocks Steve’s hand off them both as he presses for more and more. Bucky practically ravages Steve’s mouth, leaving him aching for more and hell, just plain aching as the couch creaks under them as he sucks on Steve’s tongue.
Even as Bucky tries to hump into his grip for more, Steve’s the one setting the pace. This is how we’re gonna do it, that grip says, and he shudders under him with arousal as his shaft slides along Steve’s.
Bucky doesn’t even wait for Steve to finish. Damp kisses get mouthed up along the curve of Steve’s shoulder before teeth sink into his skin hard enough even to leave Steve bruised for hours. Days if he’s lucky. Bucky’s nails drag dull red tracks up Steve’s back - following on either side of his spine to grip at his hair and tilt Steve’s head forcefully to the side, so he can bit and nip and suck bruises like a treasure trail up along the beat of his pulse.
Teeth catch at an earlobe as his other hand squeezes around Steve’s knuckles, catching at the tips of their cocks.
“No neighbors or paper thin walls, no grunts breathing down our necks,” Bucky breathes against the shell of his ear. “Feels a little like the sky’s the limits, huh, Steve?”
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2022-04-28 04:16 am (UTC)The sound that gets poured into Steve’s mouth is shameful: scalp smarting under Steve’s grip, Bucky’s body rocks upwards in a hungry, greedy arc that nearly knocks Steve’s hand off them both as he presses for more and more. Bucky practically ravages Steve’s mouth, leaving him aching for more and hell, just plain aching as the couch creaks under them as he sucks on Steve’s tongue.
Even as Bucky tries to hump into his grip for more, Steve’s the one setting the pace. This is how we’re gonna do it, that grip says, and he shudders under him with arousal as his shaft slides along Steve’s.
Bucky doesn’t even wait for Steve to finish. Damp kisses get mouthed up along the curve of Steve’s shoulder before teeth sink into his skin hard enough even to leave Steve bruised for hours. Days if he’s lucky. Bucky’s nails drag dull red tracks up Steve’s back - following on either side of his spine to grip at his hair and tilt Steve’s head forcefully to the side, so he can bit and nip and suck bruises like a treasure trail up along the beat of his pulse.
Teeth catch at an earlobe as his other hand squeezes around Steve’s knuckles, catching at the tips of their cocks.
“No neighbors or paper thin walls, no grunts breathing down our necks,” Bucky breathes against the shell of his ear. “Feels a little like the sky’s the limits, huh, Steve?”