Hand twisting a little too hard in Steve’s hair, Bucky’s leg flinches a little under Steve, the scrape of coarse hair against sensitive skin making him jerk and his hip snap upwards to grind upwards. This time it happens like an overheard sin: the flushed head of Bucky’s cock just barely, barely brushes against Steve’s lower lip, as if pleading for entrance. As if wondering if Steve’ll take the plunge.
Has he done this before? Bucky can’t help thinking with a twist of jealousy. His spine arches into the hands skating up and down his side, his body asking for more, more, more. Has he? With who? Who am I gonna have to go back and clock?
Bucky slides his hand down, letting up on Steve’s hair, so he can stroke down his cheek, letting his thumb skim over the swell of a plush lower lip, even as he pumps at his own cok in nice, firm pulls….that ends with a startled choke as Steve stops him, and pins Bucky’s wrists above his head in an easy, solid strength that leaves Bucky stretched out under him, exposed and open for him, and all Steve’s if he wants. Bucky twists his wrists in the grip, just to see if he could get out, but the strength holding him there is about as breakable as steel.
A sharp stab of lust rockets through him is so dizzying that a shiver goes through him, head to curled toes. Steve goes all in. Talking about breaking the bed. About driving his cock inside him and making him scream. About letting Bucky do the same. Having everything he never dared from his Steve.
“Oh fuck,” Bucky whispers harshly: His eyes have gone dark, the grey nearly swallowed up by his pupils, as he shudders harder under Steve’s body and precome blurts out to paint glistening smears on Steve’s cock as Steve drives his hips against his. Bucky squirms against his grip just to feel it holding him down even more. The way between them’s easier as Bucky’s precome catches on their cocks, and he drives upwards at him with a snap of his hips. Bucky’s knees dig into Steve’s sides, as if to grip him when his hands can’t. “Jesus, Joseph and Mary, pal, I’m gonna blow one if you keep talking like that. Have…have you ever?”
He’s never done…that. ‘Course not! But hell, Bucky’s heard things at work. Guys talked. Most of ‘em laughed. And Bucky wondered late at night, when it was him and Steve snoring away, what it might like feel like if Steve had woken up, rolled over and pressed him into the sheets, slipped inside him in those early hours and fucked low groans from him.
Bucky’s wrists twist more and more as he rocks upwards, grinding and grinding away like Steve’s already made good. When the grip loosens, Bucky frees only one hand, to flatten against a nipple and feel the firm muscle and dusky nub under his palm as he husks out against Steve’s mouth: “Maybe..Maybe I could figure something out?”
A pointed glance at Steve’s cock, angled up and looking slick, but not slick enough, gives Bucky away. Steve’s not the only king of bad ideas, and Bucky’s probably not got long with this Steve. Besides, some of the guys who did this kinda thing must get something out of it if they’d risk it all in some dock alley.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2022-04-30 07:40 pm (UTC)Has he done this before? Bucky can’t help thinking with a twist of jealousy. His spine arches into the hands skating up and down his side, his body asking for more, more, more. Has he? With who? Who am I gonna have to go back and clock?
Bucky slides his hand down, letting up on Steve’s hair, so he can stroke down his cheek, letting his thumb skim over the swell of a plush lower lip, even as he pumps at his own cok in nice, firm pulls….that ends with a startled choke as Steve stops him, and pins Bucky’s wrists above his head in an easy, solid strength that leaves Bucky stretched out under him, exposed and open for him, and all Steve’s if he wants. Bucky twists his wrists in the grip, just to see if he could get out, but the strength holding him there is about as breakable as steel.
A sharp stab of lust rockets through him is so dizzying that a shiver goes through him, head to curled toes. Steve goes all in. Talking about breaking the bed. About driving his cock inside him and making him scream. About letting Bucky do the same. Having everything he never dared from his Steve.
“Oh fuck,” Bucky whispers harshly: His eyes have gone dark, the grey nearly swallowed up by his pupils, as he shudders harder under Steve’s body and precome blurts out to paint glistening smears on Steve’s cock as Steve drives his hips against his. Bucky squirms against his grip just to feel it holding him down even more. The way between them’s easier as Bucky’s precome catches on their cocks, and he drives upwards at him with a snap of his hips. Bucky’s knees dig into Steve’s sides, as if to grip him when his hands can’t. “Jesus, Joseph and Mary, pal, I’m gonna blow one if you keep talking like that. Have…have you ever?”
He’s never done…that. ‘Course not! But hell, Bucky’s heard things at work. Guys talked. Most of ‘em laughed. And Bucky wondered late at night, when it was him and Steve snoring away, what it might like feel like if Steve had woken up, rolled over and pressed him into the sheets, slipped inside him in those early hours and fucked low groans from him.
Bucky’s wrists twist more and more as he rocks upwards, grinding and grinding away like Steve’s already made good. When the grip loosens, Bucky frees only one hand, to flatten against a nipple and feel the firm muscle and dusky nub under his palm as he husks out against Steve’s mouth: “Maybe..Maybe I could figure something out?”
A pointed glance at Steve’s cock, angled up and looking slick, but not slick enough, gives Bucky away. Steve’s not the only king of bad ideas, and Bucky’s probably not got long with this Steve. Besides, some of the guys who did this kinda thing must get something out of it if they’d risk it all in some dock alley.