bakerstreet | When I think about you, I touch myself

When I think about you, I touch myself

Mutual Masturbation;

Far be it from there being anything wrong with a little self-love, yet the one-handed tango might be even better if it's turned into a dance for two. Who cares that, technically, this is a contradiction? Be that as it may, whether there's willingness to reach out and touch ~~fate~~ each other or this is a strictly hands-off experience and communication can only be verbal for moral, personal, or technical purposes (hey, there are a lot of folks with powers that mean no touching out there), the two of you are indulging in some mutual masturbation. Over the phone, in person, silently, with lots of dirty talk, go nuts!

~~This totally doesn't count as sex, right?~~

You know what to do.
Do it.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[info and prefs. open to characters 18+, with a f/f & f/nb preference. open to f/m with discussion. open to aus, canon & crosscanon. happy to come up with assumed cr scenarios or write a starter.]

[ Info in journal. ]

[What's a handjob between bros? Koujaku is bi and thinks he's female leaning, but I'm willing to fudge a bit on his personal development.]

cast-mates only

[ ota, but my kingdom for a seven. ]

[ Smoking and/or drinking together while busting one out? He's not opposed to helping out either or letting things get a little wild. If it feels good, he's down. ]

They been on ops and apart for what felt like forever, and that should have been fine given they weren't a thing; no, they weren't, not at all.

But here, Bucky is relieved to be climbing into that stupid private plane to head home, the smug face he used to want to punch already settled in one of the seats.

Bucky's got a black eye and some bruised ribs; he's had worse, he thinks as he eases himself down into one of the seats; this was better than sending the quin-Jett to pick him up; a private jet has a lower profile than the quinn-Jett in Madripoor.

"You look like shit; where'd they send you?" He meant to say I missed you, let's go home, but the same feelings are behind the words that came out of his mouth.

"James," he sighs as he settles back in his seat, shifting his jaw slightly -- it's still aching a bit after an ill-timed hit.

"I believe the last thing I want to do is discuss that assignment after having to give brief after brief..." He'd rather focus on Bucky than that.

"It must have been a rather impressive hit, to give you a lasting black eye..."

"Should see the other guy," Bucky shrugs, "I'll be fine in a day or two," He huffs a little.

He moves to sit down in the seat next to Helmut, "That bad?" He asks, reaching out and touching one of the bruises on the man's face gently with metal fingers; he pulls his fingers away and pushes them through Helmut's hair.

He leans back in his seat and lets his hand fall to Helmut's thigh, "Just a few hours and bed," He snorts.

He smiles a little at the touches, eyes drifting down towards Bucky's hand when it falls to his thigh. "Just very long, very frustrating. How was yours, James?"

He's glad to be back-- here, with Bucky. His fingers drift down to cover Bucky's hand with his own.

"A bed would be rather nice right now. Among other things."

He squeezes Helmut's thigh a little as the baron covers his hand with his own, "What other things are you thinking about?" He asks smile creeping across his bruised face, sliding his hand a little further up Helmut's thigh.