Steve’s hips pin against his in this delicious little circle that presses him into the bed, grinds his fly against his like he’s planning on tracing the line of it out. Bucky has to crush a low, thready groan against Steve’s mouth just to muffle it, clutching at Steve’s belt to drag him against him as they both chase a dangerous friction that could lead somewhere it really shouldn’t. At least not right now.
“Geez, Steve, and here everyone thinks you’re America’s Golden Boy,” Bucky’s eyes go darker, hungrier, cock giving a little lurch against his underwear. And because he can’t help himself, Bucky rocks upwards, gives himself one last grind up against Steve’s length hidden away in his uniform with a ragged gasp. “Keep talking like that and I’m gonna be in trouble.”
Just one more. You know. He’s good for now, really. It doesn’t stop Bucky, of course, from letting his hands roam along the rise of strong muscles and the narrow dip of Steve’s waist: Steve cuts such a sharp number in any uniform that it makes Bucky badly want to tear it off him and touch. Especially when Steve’s bringing up all easy-like how they’re not even gonna care about the room with all the fucking they’d be doing.
And now Bucky knows just how far the serum can go.
Pillowing his head with an arm curled underneath, Bucky tilts his face to look up at Steve over him, a soft look settling in the grey eyes that meet Steve’s. That’s gotta be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to him. Steve means every single word.
Gently, Bucky grazes his knuckles along Steve’s jaw, ending in a caress that traces along his pulse down to his collarbones. “Yeah. I mean I was happy living in that shoebox of an apartment. Even when the draft kicked in or when we wouldn’t get more than a minute of hot water. Didn’t matter as long as it was with you.”
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2022-07-27 02:12 am (UTC)“Geez, Steve, and here everyone thinks you’re America’s Golden Boy,” Bucky’s eyes go darker, hungrier, cock giving a little lurch against his underwear. And because he can’t help himself, Bucky rocks upwards, gives himself one last grind up against Steve’s length hidden away in his uniform with a ragged gasp. “Keep talking like that and I’m gonna be in trouble.”
Just one more. You know. He’s good for now, really. It doesn’t stop Bucky, of course, from letting his hands roam along the rise of strong muscles and the narrow dip of Steve’s waist: Steve cuts such a sharp number in any uniform that it makes Bucky badly want to tear it off him and touch. Especially when Steve’s bringing up all easy-like how they’re not even gonna care about the room with all the fucking they’d be doing.
And now Bucky knows just how far the serum can go.
Pillowing his head with an arm curled underneath, Bucky tilts his face to look up at Steve over him, a soft look settling in the grey eyes that meet Steve’s. That’s gotta be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to him. Steve means every single word.
Gently, Bucky grazes his knuckles along Steve’s jaw, ending in a caress that traces along his pulse down to his collarbones. “Yeah. I mean I was happy living in that shoebox of an apartment. Even when the draft kicked in or when we wouldn’t get more than a minute of hot water. Didn’t matter as long as it was with you.”