experienceandpatience

"I'm pretty sure getting married doesn't sound like something you would have done either," Bucky points out dryly, settling back into this comfortable kind of jesting banter that he really only does with three or four people. One of whom is dead.

"No I-- I was just. Wondering." Bucky swallows and shakes his head a few times, focusing on the road even though the lanes are pretty wide and there's no one else in front or behind him. That's Wyoming for you.

"It's a little. Crammed." This is a terrible topic to be making small talk for and Bucky clears his throat, shifting in his seat, looking out the window, then at the mirrors, then back on the road again. Maybe he can find something else to talk about...

"What kind of movie did you wanna watch? I don't know what's on." They don't make criminals smoother than this one, let him tell you that.

"It doesn't sound like something you would have done either... I must have left quite an impression." Or threw enough of a fit, but Bucky doesn't seem to quite regret it so much.

... And at least this is all much more comfortable territory than-- trying to navigate being married. Teasing or watching Bucky try to weasel out of being flustered. "Hm, that's why you move to the back, James. And it isn't quite as dangerous as falling from an exam table."

"I'm not picky." The idea had mostly been an excuse to be close, even without the promise of backseat makeouts.

"I think we have the choice of mindless action or horror."

"You weren't having any of it." Someone went full Bridezilla, 'how dare you even think about leaving me at the altar, do you know who I am?' and guess what? It wasn't Bucky.

"That was your fault too. I told you I didn't need medical attention." He was a quarter of a pint of blood away from passing out, and the cut was so deep that it needed stitches. But sure, Bucky was Fine. Fine enough to insist that Zemo was overreacting while he shoved Bucky into their rental car and sped down to the clinic to get him looked at.

Actually it was. Kind of sweet. What with the way Zemo said 'my husband' with that eyeroll and that tsking scowl, they were almost lovers.

"Let's go with action." They have enough horror in their lives dealing with this marriage. And if they really want to be watching this thing while huddled close together under a throw, a horror film would just get a whole lot of jolts and whimpers and them asking obvious questions about stupid people poking around scary places alone.

Bucky brushes his thumb over the side of the gear stick thoughtfully.

"We could bring Oeznik out sometime. And Steve." He hates the idea of leaving Steve alone in that big old house, but also, Steve probably wouldn't do well with noise and crowds and too much attention. He absolutely hated the plane and that weightless feeling. Bucky doesn't always consider what might be best for Steve when he tries to sneak him everywhere.

"I know what I want, James." Which isn't really an excuse for twisting his arm into marrying him, but-- ah well. He told Bucky he could take off the ring and he refused. Whose fault is that? Besides, he's wrinkling his nose, giving an incredulous look to Bucky.

"You were bleeding everywhere! Even super soldiers need medical attention sometimes." It was the right call.

"You obviously need me around to be sensible about these things." How can he ever leave Bucky alone if he would rather just ignore his wounds an pass out from them? Honestly. Although he could give a thank you for it...

"We could. Oeznik may appreciate going out to dinner for a change, or to see a movie." Although he doubts Steve would appreciate either. He's rather happy in that big house as long as they all seem to come back around to feed him eventually.

"Although that may be more difficult if my current predicament doesn't stick around for a few days more at least."

They can blame HYDRA for that. Their cyborg might have needed frequent repair works to his metal arm, but he never needed full-on medical attention. If he can't handle being stapled back together and scowling silently through his injuries, then he isn't worthy to serve them.

Naturally that's how Bucky tackles all adversities. With a deep scowl and without using his words. No reason why that should stop working after it's carried the Soldier through the past eighty years.

"It would have healed on its own," he insists softly, like he's not exactly sure if it would have. Just about everything that's been inflicted on him has healed on its own, so. Slicing his hand open surely wouldn't have been any different...

"We'll see how long this lasts, I guess." If tomorrow Zemo wakes up in his old body, then it's not going to be a bad thing either. Today will have just been a weird kind of Cinderella moment that will have come and gone and they'll have made as much of it as they were happy to. If tomorrow he's still like this, they should just be upfront with Oeznik and spend another day out. Whether they tell him now, or later, they're just putting off the inevitable worrying and fussing and questions anyway.

"I think it's just over here." Bucky isn't using GPS. He'd taken half a day when they first got to Wyoming to scope out everything in the vicinity of the farmhouse, what the main towns had to offer, how many gas stations there were within 5 miles, how many ways to get onto the highway and everything else he thought was important, and he committed them all to memory. Usually Zemo drives, but when Bucky does get behind the wheel, he's able to navigate without one of those ladies in the phone asserting her dominance narrating orders at him.

There's only a few cars parked out front and the car rolls to a stop. He could have gone in the middle but Bucky would have been unconsciously anxious about being trapped in the centre, preferring to be slightly off to one side.

"Any last minute requests?" They do have enough snacks but it never hurts to ask the baron in case he has a last minute craving for a flute of Dom Perignon...

"And now it's healing with some help." And now, for a very brief moment, he possibly understands any frustration he brought on his own wife a little more intimately when he came in obviously on the unfortunate losing end of a fight.

Except he still had sense enough to at least give himself stitches when he needed them, if not find a doctor...

"I think we are good," he answers, a smile curling his lips. "Park at the back, away from others, James."

Both for the practicality of not getting boxed in and... well, because they may want some privacy from the other cars while they settle in the back.

"You could barely see the bone by the time the ice cleared and we could go back to the cabin..." Give it another day or two and it might scar but the bandages can come off completely.

Most people might want front row seats but thankfully Zemo also doesn't want to be sandwiched in the middle. Bucky checks over his shoulder and around the vicinity as far as he can see, satisfied that they're tucked away safely in the corner. Easy entrance, easy exit, and a semi-decent view of the screen.

"Wait, where are you going?" Is Zemo moving into the back seat? Why?

"James. We are not arguing over your hand again." Especially now that they're parked and tucked away comfortably in front of the screen.

At the question, there's a mischievous smile thrown Bucky's direction as Zemo reaches for the throw he threw back there and starts to spread it out. "Getting comfortable. Come and join me, James. It will be fine."

Either one of them can get to the front seat quickly, if they need to. Zemo doubts that will be the case though. "We won't have as much between us back here..."

Fine. They're only not arguing because they know Bucky is right. That's the only consolation he's giving himself as he steps outside briefly, letting just a little bit of cold air in as he climbs into the backseat and shuts the door. He could have climbed, and he would have if it was an emergency.

But they're taking their time today. It's much more roomy in the backseat, and he wraps his arms low around Zemo's waist, pulling him in close. There's nothing suggestive beyond wanting to get close, to nudge his nose against Zemo's cheek and tease at biting him.

God, Zemo's really soft in all sorts of strange places... Rather than grabbing and yanking insistently he finds himself trying to be delicate like he's handling a block of tofu.

"You feel different..."

If right means terribly wrong, then yes. Bucky is absolutely right. And Zemo is just glad that there shouldn't be any surprise stitches today if Bucky keeps whatever hidden knives on his person safely tucked away.

There's nothing suggestive in the way Zemo presses himself up against Bucky, slides an arm around his middle, beyond sating that need to be close without putting on much of a public show of it. Not that he minded, but-- this is nice too. There's an amused huff at that playful bite before Zemo tips his head back to brush a quick kiss along his jaw.

"And you're not yanking me where you want me..." Pulling, certainly, but Zemo can't quite help but notice the way he seems to be trying to be careful</i.. "I won't bruise any more than when I'm a man, you know." Probably. And in any case, Zemo doesn't mind the hand prints Bucky has left on him in particular moments of impatience.

He'll find a knife strapped against the side of Bucky's shin and one by his hip, but they're both sheathed so if anyone gets cut, stabbed or gutted like a fish tonight, it'll be Zemo's carelessness to blame.

Bucky's carelessness manifests in those angry red handprints and ugly little dark bruises. But he's usually quite controlled about it. Or, rather, he doesn't like the idea of not being in control enough that he's scared of leaving too many marks.

"Didn't we come here to watch a movie?" It's not started yet but they're getting very distracted already. Zemo for all intents and purposes seems to be quite the same. Bucky's the one trying to be gentle and trying to avoid grabbing tits and squeezing hips.

"What are you wearing?" He can't help but ask with a little laugh. There's all these extra straps he's never had to deal with before.

He's not at all surprised to find those knives. He wouldn't be surprised to find a gun tucked away somewhere either, but he's especially not surprised about the knives. "We did. It hasn't started yet, James--"

There's some squirming at the comment and a elbow jabbed lightly into Bucky. "And you scold me for wandering hands... I am wearing clothes, what else?"

Zemo gets an anxious little whine out of him when he removes the bigger knife by his hip. Yes, it was digging into him at an uncomfortable angle, but he's more uncomfortable not having it there. They do have an agreement about not fooling around or sleeping with weapons though, and Bucky reluctantly relents when Zemo puts the knife in the compartment at the bottom of the door.

Not wanting Zemo to get awkwardly naked in the backseat, Bucky opts to shove some clothes out of the way as he tries to slink in under Zemo. The seatbelt buckles poke uncomfortably into his sides but he doesn't seem to mind stretching out a bit so Zemo can hover on top of him.

There's no way he can laugh about these breasts without sounding like he's twelve so he just cups the side of Zemo's face and pulls him in for a few long, slow kisses.

No no no, they're only kissing. There's no teenage making out happening here. Nothing to see here at all.

"I thought we were supposed to be watching a movie?" He teases lightly as they settle in a more... comfortable position. He braces a hand on the seat as he looks at Bucky fondly.

It didn't feel that much different as they slip into kisses, slow and intimate and familiar. One of his hands slides down the other man's side to skip beneath his clothes and feel actual skin.

Clearly not acting like teenagers at all, no.

"Does it feel different, James?" He ventures a moment, curious. Of course there are obvious differences, but so far, Bucky doesn't seem like he finds it bothersome or unattractive at least.

"Well... You can tell me when it starts." He can't see the screen from here although he did leave the radio on so they can broadcast the audio into the car.

"It does. Your hair's in the way," Bucky points out with a snicker, forcing himself to relax after he'd jolted up a bit from that cool hand on his warm skin. It's not even hair at this point, it's a sentient mane that could probably strangle him if it gets tired of poking Bucky's face, despite how much he tries to move his head away.

"And I'm worried. If we do 'stuff'. And. You know..." Bucky's trying not to say, what if this is permanent, and he gets Zemo pregnant, and all that horror stuff. Today is supposed to be fun and light and not worrying about babies or being sent out to buy tampons next week.

"Ah, but I'm being thoroughly distracted." Well, he was until Bucky started to complain about his hair. His hand slides away from Bucky in favor of trying to push it out of the way--

And then he pauses, brows furrowing and mouth twitching into a frown as he pieces together what Bucky is insinuating. He's used to relatively consequence free encounters with him. He's not used to worrying about-- pregnancies or anything else. Bucky may have successfully killed any sort of arousal for a moment with the thought of cramps or babies if this is permanent and thorough by any stretch of the imagination.

"Did you... buy anything?" He's rather certain he'd have noticed if Bucky brought condoms, but there's a slight possibility, isn't there?

"There isn't any way of knowing if I could-- if whatever happened left me capable of that, you know."

"No. I thought we were just gonna-- dinner. Hot tub. Oeznik. You know." Well, no, not have dinner and go into the hot tub together with Oeznik - although he's more than welcome to join them if he likes, Bucky would love to hang out with Oeznik in the hot tub, but he knows Oeznik would have none of it - but Zemo knows what he means.

Propping himself up on his elbow, he reaches over to give Zemo a few rubs on the upper arm. He hadn't meant to alarm him but, you know, he thinks they're legitimate concerns...

"Hey. Hey, don't worry about all that." He cups Zemo's face, warm hand against cool skin, and brushes his thumb over the top of his cheek. Maybe Bucky shouldn't have said anything...

"We're going to figure this out, right? One day at a time. Come on..." He rubs Zemo's back as reassuringly as he can manage and shifts to sit up a bit so he can hug him a little close, nudge his nose and lips against his other cheek.

He bites back on the urge to tell Bucky he's being-- strange again. He promised he'd be better about that, and letting Bucky... take care of him or help him or whatever he asked over lunch. "It's rather difficult to not consider, James-- and you did bring it up."

Considering it's his body and he doesn't really know it in the way he should anymore, it's easy to worry a bit. Perfectly logical as well. He does tip into the touch against his cheek though, breathes out a sigh. "We will..."

Figure something out, take care of things as well as they can. His eyes drift shut for a moment at all the nuzzling, the kisses. He turns his head a bit to catch Bucky in another kiss, slow and soft as his fingers slide back down over his chest, settle at his sides. "There are certainly other things we can do... if you want."

He doesn't want Bucky worried and stressed out either, really. He also doesn't want to risk something that means... any of that. Nine months and something else to lose when he knows that pain too well. "Or we can watch the movie, then go home for the hot tub."

"I- didn't say anything," he points out softly. Did he? He's pretty sure he didn't. Zemo just jumped to conclusions and, funnily enough, they had both arrived at the same concerns.

"I don't think you wanted to watch a movie," Bucky observes, scooching back a bit so as to give Zemo more room. They did bother to get some tickets, even get some snacks, but he's pretty sure those snacks are going to end up by the hot tub and Oeznik will be threatening hell if they drop any doritos into the water.

Giving Zemo a light shove, he swaps positions with him, getting Zemo to lie back while he semi-straddles on top. They're in a pretty big SUV, but it's still a little constricted, all things considered. Planting kisses down the side of Zemo's neck through the middle of his very different chest helps keep Bucky's mind off any hint of claustrophobia the backseat is giving him.

The kisses continue, from fabric down to bare skin and then Bucky is between Zemo's legs. Always a precarious position, and honestly - look, it's been a while, he's not 100% certain about what he's doing - but usually using his mouth and hoping for the best once he pulls all the clothes away tends to somewhat work out.

Zemo gets a few dangerously hard bites on his inner thighs, but there's only tongue action and a bit of ticklish stubble with no teeth once Bucky gets to slowly lapping up a bit of wetness between those soft, unfamiliar folds.

"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...? Why would Zemo have condoms on him? Neither of them have been with anyone else in years. They've likely never even thought about it.

There are nimble fingers in his hair, sure, and there's definitely a pussy in his mouth, but the main thing that Bucky finds weird at the moment is Zemo's higher pitched voice. The movie's probably started. Something is coming through the radio. But Bucky barely acknowledges it with a grunt, distracted with trying to keep Zemo's thighs down while using his tongue (teeth bad, apparently). It doesn't feel much different from when Zemo catches him sticking his tongue into a bottle of beer and swats at him to stop doing that.

Only, of course, Zemo is pulling his hair and keeping his face smooshed right in close and there doesn't seem to be much discouraging happening at the moment.

A warm metal hand runs down half the length of Zemo's leg from the inside of his knee to the bruises on his inner thigh. Is this-- too much, maybe? Does it feel weird? Does it hurt? Or does Zemo just bruise like a peach now?

"...do you want me to stop?" Because overthinking doesn't dampen the mood at all and clearly the movie is the priority right now.

With Bucky's tendency to not watch how hard he bites at times -- Zemo can't imagine teeth would feel good at all where he's at, but he's not sure what on earth prompts that question. Was it the moans or the squirming or the death grip on his hair trying to make sure Bucky keeps his tongue moving just right there?

"What?" Comes the breathless confusion as Zemo dares to look down. It takes a moment to even form a word as Zemo inwardly debates whether this is a sexy sight or not, watching Bucky eating him out. He thinks it is, even if it's strange that the pussy is his.

He tilts his head curiously and shakes his head. "What would give you such an idea? Do you want to stop?"

Is it too strange for him? "Because I can tell you honestly that all I want is you in any way that I can have you. Stopping has not crossed my mind."

It's weird, yes. But they may not-- get this chance again, and how many can say they have experienced things from the other side quite like this? Maybe if it wasn't Bucky between his thighs, he'd have put a stop to it, but-- they are married now, for better or worse.

"No. But. You're bruising." Which is apparently Zemo's fault now and not any indication that Bucky should stop treating him like a chewtoy.

And, normally Zemo gives very clear instructions. Like 'fuck the movie, suck me off' would be a much better directive than what Bucky can't decipher whether it is a good kind of writhing or an uncomfortable kind of writhing.

Bucky lowers his head again, hopelessly confused but Zemo said stopping hasn't crossed his mind, so he's just going to keep going. He grazes his teeth so dangerously close, canines threatening to bite through a very vulnerably located clit at the moment, but the teeth give way to nipping lips and an eager tongue when Zemo grips too hard into his hair.

Apologetic kisses are littered liberally over the bruises on the inner thighs for as long as Zemo lets him stray away until he feels that hand yank him back in again. His scalp is starting to tingle now but he could eat Zemo out until the credits have finished rolling - if he can handle being teased and stimulated for that long - and neither of them would be tired.

Maybe they can't. You know. Do that. But their current... Predicament? Wouldn't preclude them from doing. You know. Butt stuff.

"You've left darker ones on my body in the past, James... You bite harder than you realize sometimes." And grabs hard and pushes hard. Sometimes he's left with bruises, sometimes not. It's not something he really thinks about unless you can actually see them--

That's not often though -- not with high necks and layers of clothes. "It doesn't matter anyway. Bruises heal."

And part of Zemo can't quite believe they're even having this conversation. It feels a little unreal when Bucky has nearly smothered him in pillows or felt like he was trying to potentially break his pelvis in the past.

There's another soft, encouraging moan as teeth and lips tease him again. He manages to not squirm or do much beyond tighten his hand in Bucky's hair though. He's rather sure he could lie back and appreciate Bucky's mouth as long as he's content to stay there, but--

"I want you to fuck me, James. I don't care how... I just want you up here." He wants to hear those pants and groans pressed in against his ear, feel the urgency and desperation build up in the other man in return.

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.

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