[There will be gentle pressing later, when Bucky is more sober, more than sated and hopefully more open to talking. When his mouth isn't busy, when Bucky isn't driving him mad with words like that. There's a deep moan as Bucky pushes up, slides his cock deeper as fingers brush through his hair. He's certain that's a hopeless mess at this point.
His hand slides up Bucky's thigh, soothing, reassuring. Much as part of him wants to stay where he is, enjoy the way Bucky pushes up, eager for more of his mouth, watch every little twitch and squirm, drink in every noise he manages to draw. But there's a desperation in those words that have him drawing back enough to speak. It takes a moment, swallowing, licking his swollen lips.]
How?
[The question comes out rough as he slides up Bucky's body, propping himself up on one elbow, his other hand sliding between them to wrap around Bucky's spit-slick length to give him what he wants.]
no subject
His hand slides up Bucky's thigh, soothing, reassuring. Much as part of him wants to stay where he is, enjoy the way Bucky pushes up, eager for more of his mouth, watch every little twitch and squirm, drink in every noise he manages to draw. But there's a desperation in those words that have him drawing back enough to speak. It takes a moment, swallowing, licking his swollen lips.]
How?
[The question comes out rough as he slides up Bucky's body, propping himself up on one elbow, his other hand sliding between them to wrap around Bucky's spit-slick length to give him what he wants.]