[It's like the world is speeding up and slowing down all at once, like he's hyperaware of the tiny little things, the drag of calluses against skin, the ridge here and there of a scar not yet completely healed, the catch of metal against skin versus what he can feel of Steve's body with his other hand. All of these things, all of his awareness is centered down on Steve and on how it feels to touch and be touched. How beautiful the sound of their breaths growing heavier. How the grasp and slide of hands becomes more substantial, more wanting, more possessive. How the bruise Steve left on his skin still throbs.
How Steve leans close and Bucky huffs an amused noise into the space between them. His own gaze is caught up in the look on Steve's face, the pleasure painted there and knowing he's the reason for it. That he can have not only this, but maybe more. They have the whole night, after all.]
Know what you look like. You're all I need—
[The smirk isn't long to stay though, just because he'd rather meet Steve in that kiss. It's hungry and wanting and more than a little inelegant but that doesn't matter because it feels so damn good. And better all of it, between their kisses and the way Steve'd body presses against his own, the way Steve works him higher and higher? It doesn't take much for Bucky to fall, hips rocking against Steve's fist, a cry on his lips that twists and tangles around Steve's name.]
no subject
How Steve leans close and Bucky huffs an amused noise into the space between them. His own gaze is caught up in the look on Steve's face, the pleasure painted there and knowing he's the reason for it. That he can have not only this, but maybe more. They have the whole night, after all.]
Know what you look like. You're all I need—
[The smirk isn't long to stay though, just because he'd rather meet Steve in that kiss. It's hungry and wanting and more than a little inelegant but that doesn't matter because it feels so damn good. And better all of it, between their kisses and the way Steve'd body presses against his own, the way Steve works him higher and higher? It doesn't take much for Bucky to fall, hips rocking against Steve's fist, a cry on his lips that twists and tangles around Steve's name.]