freightcars: ((tfa) 96)
ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀ sᴏʟᴅɪᴇʀ ([personal profile] freightcars) wrote in [community profile] bakerstreet 2018-09-05 11:18 pm (UTC)

[ Steve says his name again, and this time - this time there's no shyness, there's no thought behind it. He says it as natural as breathing that way he always does, and it tears Bucky's world backward at the sound. Yes, that's exactly what he'd been asking for earlier, like that. It almost does more to him than the hand diligently stroking him, almost.

His breath shakes loose in rhythmic sounds, a near-hyperventilation, in- out- in- out- because he can feel himself toeing the line, an ebb and a slightly smaller flow pushing him close but not quite tipping him over. He doesn't want it to end, he's not ready yet, he wants to ride this edge until next fucking year and watch Steve's face the whole time as he palms Bucky's cock.

Teeth press hard into his bottom lip, brow knits in intense concentration, and he peels back from Steve's searching hands to fall backward onto his elbows so he can stare down the length of his body and see. Take in the whole picture, with Steve there curled up around him, with his working fingers and the flush on his face asking him what it is he wants- god, drunk or not he's never gonna forget that. It's seared into his memory for the next hundred years, nothing in the world will tear it from him, not a magic or a medicine could drive it out.

It's god damn beautiful. ]


I want- [ He starts, chest heaving, looking agonized for a second before he has to tear his eyes way and tip his head up. ]

God- I want everything- your fucking mouth- I see that in my dreams, Stevie, Jesus, I'm close- I'm-

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