Okay, maybe that’s the wrong thing to say, but Bucky’s always never doubted it. Even when things got low, really low out in the field. But following Steve Rogers? Hasn’t ever been one of them.
“You want to hear how nice your cock feels? Or this?” Bucky’s mouth quirks into a smirk, the kind that’s always spelled out being stupid just to annoy Steve, as he gently kneads and traces along the shape of Steve’s balls, just to feel the soft skin shifting along them, before tracing circled fingers along the vein tracing along the underside of his dick. ‘Course that’s not what Steve’s talking about, but when Bucky’s got Steve all to himself, can you blame him? His other hand flattens along Steve’s chest, thumb skating around a nipple as if tracing it’s own little perimeter. “Or this?”
Bucky lets his head fall back on the mussed up sheets, sucking his lower lip between his teeth as he obliges Steve (in what he’s actually asking), gently rolling his hips to try and take Steve in deeper even as he feels the faint, stinging stretch of two fingers working him open. Stretching him. Sinking in easier each time as his cock gets harder and harder again with each second, and Bucky crushes his lips against Steve’s.
Bucky’s eye burrows furrow. God, where to start? Bucky thinks as he begins to tease at the tawny nub under his thumb, and pumping Steve’s cock in nice, long, firm drags. “No way am I crying uncle. It’s just taking getting used to, that’s-”
Bucky doesn’t quite finish, ‘cause suddenly it’s like someone sent up a bolt of fireworks right through his veins: it’s a burst of fiery arousal so fierce that Bucky cries out, arching on Steve’s fingers when they curl and press against something inside him that feels so, so fucking go that it feels like he just might come any second, over and over as Bucky nearly bits Steve’s lip with the shock. Bucky’s eyes have gone wide, staring at Steve in shock as he’s dick’s practically lept right to attention. “...The hell was that?!”
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“You want to hear how nice your cock feels? Or this?” Bucky’s mouth quirks into a smirk, the kind that’s always spelled out being stupid just to annoy Steve, as he gently kneads and traces along the shape of Steve’s balls, just to feel the soft skin shifting along them, before tracing circled fingers along the vein tracing along the underside of his dick. ‘Course that’s not what Steve’s talking about, but when Bucky’s got Steve all to himself, can you blame him? His other hand flattens along Steve’s chest, thumb skating around a nipple as if tracing it’s own little perimeter. “Or this?”
Bucky lets his head fall back on the mussed up sheets, sucking his lower lip between his teeth as he obliges Steve (in what he’s actually asking), gently rolling his hips to try and take Steve in deeper even as he feels the faint, stinging stretch of two fingers working him open. Stretching him. Sinking in easier each time as his cock gets harder and harder again with each second, and Bucky crushes his lips against Steve’s.
Bucky’s eye burrows furrow. God, where to start? Bucky thinks as he begins to tease at the tawny nub under his thumb, and pumping Steve’s cock in nice, long, firm drags. “No way am I crying uncle. It’s just taking getting used to, that’s-”
Bucky doesn’t quite finish, ‘cause suddenly it’s like someone sent up a bolt of fireworks right through his veins: it’s a burst of fiery arousal so fierce that Bucky cries out, arching on Steve’s fingers when they curl and press against something inside him that feels so, so fucking go that it feels like he just might come any second, over and over as Bucky nearly bits Steve’s lip with the shock. Bucky’s eyes have gone wide, staring at Steve in shock as he’s dick’s practically lept right to attention. “...The hell was that?!”