It's clumsy and slow, the Soldier managing to flop onto his back, one leg bent, his metal arm curled over his head as if he'd been about use it as a pillow. It's an unconsciously sensual display with his chest still heaving with a fresh sheen of sweat, his hard shaft bobbing with the motion and dribbling pearls of precum against his groin and stomach.

The Soldier blinks mutely up at Rumlow, watching as his handler mounts him so that he blocks out the light spilling through the cell's tiny window and onto the bed, his softening cock swinging until it's hanging over him almost close enough to tease against his face, his parted lips. The Soldier's still good and fucked, the expression on his face one of vacant confusion as it takes longer than normal to usual to process Rumlow's new order.

With his head propped up by the pillow the Soldier complies as he always does...even if it's maybe not with his usual efficiency, because his right hand comes up, his fingers lightly bumping against the hard muscle of Rumlow's thigh before he manages follow it up to the V of his waist and then, finally, he locates his dick. Guiding clumsily it to his lips, his grip's loose and when he opens his mouth and tries to run his tongue along the shaft, he actually misses. The heat of Rumlow's shaft rubs its sticky length against his cheek instead of inserting itself into his waiting mouth.

It takes another attempt before he succeeds, the Soldier sloppily lapping at his handler's cock, trying to clean it to spec, his coordination shot because Rumlow fucked it out of him.