How rude, criticising a man's bad biting habit while he's eating you out. Bucky can't help it. He bites when he's stressed. He bites when he's horny. He bites when one hand isn't enough but he's forgotten about the other one. He bites when he's bored. You either want him to put things in his mouth or don't - can't have him both ways.

There's nothing vague about what Zemo's asking and Bucky complies almost immediately, shifting his weight and crawling up to nibble along Zemo's jaw, supporting his weight on one arm while groping around to take his own pants off with his other hand. He's been hard for a while now but in some kind of denial about it because he doesn't want to make Zemo even more uncomfortable than he already is and he wasn't too focused on himself anyway.

Bucky's face probably tastes a little different when Zemo's tongue flicks over his stubble. It's all a little new and there's a little fumbling around. He almost puts a hole through the door when Zemo's unusually delicate fingers touch his hard shaft and he bites down on his lip to stop himself from making any more obscene noises. Someone's going to notice if he can't hold himself back.

Any protests he might have had about just sticking it in and pounding Zemo's tight, wet pussy slinks out the window when Zemo practically guides him in and locks his legs behind Bucky's thighs. He might have briefly entertained some kind of bizarre lovemaking honeymoon married couple slow and sensual fantasy but that maybe only lasts for a couple of minutes at the most before he's devolved to a dog in heat. He's on all fours and the car creaks with how hard he's fucking Zemo into the leather upholstery, and he has to be careful not to rip the interior of the car apart or put any holes anywhere.