"Then you were not about to ask me for condoms?" Because Zemo can only think of a few reasons why someone would interrupt in the middle and ask if something had been bought, and that seemed the most applicable in the moment.
He's about to insist that he is perfectly content with a movie, they will worry about the rest later, but it seems Bucky is nudging him to lie down on the seat and whatever protest Zemo could give is lost against inviting lips. There are happy murmurs lost to it as his hands smooth up through hair or slide down to map out a familiar body above his not terribly normal one.
He tries to not dwell how different this feels -- how he's slick and hot by the time Bucky's managed to push clothes out of the way or take them off entirely. He's not sure if it's just because he's hyperaware or if things are just more sensitive than he's used to, but it doesn't seem to really matter in the end. In the end, he's just privately thrilling that Bucky doesn't seem any less eager at the moment.
There are the usual protesting yelps and James! on his tongue when lips bite too hard on sensitive flesh. He'll have bruises blooming there later. But also like usual, those protests are lost to soft, breathy noises as a talented tongue goes to work. Somewhere between trembling thighs or his fingers gently massaging or pulling through Bucky's hair in encouragement, Zemo thinks that just maybe, he shouldn't complain about Bucky being willing to put things in his mouth anymore.
It seems to be working delightfully in the bedroom, as it is. Or car.
It's certainly easier to not have any unfortunate mood killing flashbacks to tiny cells and uncomfortable cots or being caught in a falling country when Bucky is making it difficult to think beyond his head between his thighs. That's a positive, isn't it? One that he hopes stays when one hand goes flailing out to grab at the back of the front seat. Something to hold on to.
"Fuck, James--" It's on the tip of his tongue to tell Bucky to forget the consequences and give them what they both likely want.
no subject
He's about to insist that he is perfectly content with a movie, they will worry about the rest later, but it seems Bucky is nudging him to lie down on the seat and whatever protest Zemo could give is lost against inviting lips. There are happy murmurs lost to it as his hands smooth up through hair or slide down to map out a familiar body above his not terribly normal one.
He tries to not dwell how different this feels -- how he's slick and hot by the time Bucky's managed to push clothes out of the way or take them off entirely. He's not sure if it's just because he's hyperaware or if things are just more sensitive than he's used to, but it doesn't seem to really matter in the end. In the end, he's just privately thrilling that Bucky doesn't seem any less eager at the moment.
There are the usual protesting yelps and James! on his tongue when lips bite too hard on sensitive flesh. He'll have bruises blooming there later. But also like usual, those protests are lost to soft, breathy noises as a talented tongue goes to work. Somewhere between trembling thighs or his fingers gently massaging or pulling through Bucky's hair in encouragement, Zemo thinks that just maybe, he shouldn't complain about Bucky being willing to put things in his mouth anymore.
It seems to be working delightfully in the bedroom, as it is. Or car.
It's certainly easier to not have any unfortunate mood killing flashbacks to tiny cells and uncomfortable cots or being caught in a falling country when Bucky is making it difficult to think beyond his head between his thighs. That's a positive, isn't it? One that he hopes stays when one hand goes flailing out to grab at the back of the front seat. Something to hold on to.
"Fuck, James--" It's on the tip of his tongue to tell Bucky to forget the consequences and give them what they both likely want.