experienceandpatience

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.

Hey, look! He likes the biting. But sometimes Bucky bites too hard and it goes a little beyond the good kind of pain, or sometimes it leaves marks. Zemo may not mind those so much, actually... little intimate reminders of his soldier and all of that.

And of course there's a little thrill when his demands are met without hesitation, just enthusiasm that has Bucky crawling over him and fumbling with his trousers. Any uncertainty or concerns about what this is going to be like is quickly forgotten between nips and kisses and the feel of Bucky in his hands finally.

This isn't quite the romance and candles affair Oeznik had set up for them mockingly on their holiday. It's a different feeling to Bucky shoving him face down into the bed and fucking him up the ass -- of course it is. Different sort of stretch, different sort of pleasure and deep sort of pressure building up that leaves his nerves lighting up.

It's hard and rough and leaves Zemo panting or gasping or groaning in between whatever words get babbled out in encouragement in whatever language leaves his tongue. It may be a bit awkward in parts, at least for Zemo and a very different body, but it's intense enough to mostly ignore it. It doesn't stop him from sliding a hand between them to touch himself eventually, curiosity getting the better of him-- although it does result in Zemo doing some biting along Bucky's shoulder in an effort to keep quiet.

Although there's really no way they're being that discreet that anyone looking over won't know exactly what's going on in this car.

Especially when there's a too loud moan that slips out of his mouth regardless when he's coming and there's pleasure traveling through his nerves a bit longer than he's used to, blotting out anything that isn't what's happening right here, right now. It's intense enough to leave his thighs trembling, to have him writhing just a little as his pussy clenches and contracts around Bucky's cock.

He may look a mess by the time they're both finished -- flushed and sweaty and mussed and breathless, but he can't say it wasn't worth the moment of irresponsibility.

To his credit, Bucky had tried. He figured maybe Zemo would be okay with some mouth action while he figures his own body out. His mind had even ventured to butt stuff. And while he wouldn't say this is better or worse than their normal fare, it is certainly different. Wet in different ways, a kind of tightness that feels different, and slightly less violent, and Zemo almost finishes him off like he's a horny, hormonal teenager that's just eager to blow his load.

Nothing to see in that suspiciously rocky SUV at all. Nobody's noticed. They don't have to worry about anything.

He doesn't mind Zemo's biting at all, but Zemo doesn't bite too hard in comparison. In fact, maybe he likes it a little. Just a bit of a sting from time to time is enough to get him cumming like it's his first time.

He had been a little indecisive, a little anxious at the end, so in his worry he makes a bit of a mess, most of his load ending up somewhere low past Zemo's stomach or on his inner thighs.

"...mm- sorry..." There's at least a box of tissues sitting between the front seats because Bucky likes to eat in the car when they go through a drive-thru, and Oeznik always makes sure there's bottles of water stocked in the doors. Bucky resists the urge to just flop over the car floor, curl up and pass out, and instead reaches over to pull out at least a half dozen sheets of tissues, trying to clean up his mess quickly as if he'd be embarrassed if Zemo saw the crime scene.

"Mnh..." He looks down for a moment when Bucky seems to hastily be trying to clean up. Maybe they'll try the butt stuff later, or more mouth action, when they have room to stretch out... but right now, Zemo feels loose-limbed and rather content where he is.

There's a hazy little smile before Zemo is reaching for the other in an attempt to pull him back in for a lazy kiss or two -- once the clean up is handled.

"Not bad, James," he murmurs, teasing.

"Crap..." Bucky looks serious, eyebrows furrowed like he's playing Operation down there. Which is probably not good if he's trying to get Zemo to relax. Trying to slip his arm between the driver's seat and the door, he almost gets stuck retrieving the water bottle, but he manages to free himself without breaking the car with a firm yank.

Tipping some water out onto another fistful of tissues, Bucky cleans up with a wet pass followed by a final dry pass. Only then does he allow himself to relax a bit, hanging partially off the edge of the seat hovering over Zemo kissing him gently.

"We can. Still watch some of the movie. If you want..." He tugs on the throw and moves to cover Zemo with it partially, hoping they can figure out the clothes later before they need to head off. The only missed the first bit but it's probably some kind of slow intro or a convoluted plot point that will work out to be not really that important in the end.

"James?" That look is a little bit-- unsettling. And the 'crap' to be fair. At least he pieces together the issue soon enough... and he's really not going to complain about Bucky taking it upon himself to clean them up a little, or the throw that's put over him after a bit. The kiss is returned and the fabric is held close to his body before he's finally making himself move...

Mostly to press in against Bucky's side, nuzzling into him softly as he settles in. "Mhm..."

He has no intention of moving just yet anyway. They need to dress, but fitting himself up against Bucky is much nicer at the moment. Warm, comfortable. "We can finish the movie."

Although he can't quite help but ask-- "Was it worth it?"

He will assume so, the way Bucky seemed to react.

It's just as well they don't play Operation. It would frustrate him to no end that Oeznik would beat him at it over and over and over again despite him having the upper hand, with a whole arm that doesn't tremble by design.

Somehow he manages to squeeze himself in the seat and lie on his side so Zemo can use him as a big spoon, leech all the warmth out of him once they've sweated it all out and the cold starts to set in again. The water bottle is set down within reach so Zemo can take a drink if he wants. There's not enough room for Bucky to stretch his legs out fully so it's a little more crammed on the other half of the backseat, but they are able to make their configuration work regardless.

"Sure, I mean, we didn't miss too much of it... If you tune in now you'll still get what the movie was about." Is Bucky completely oblivious or being sarcastic? Honestly, isn't he both?

He wrinkles his nose a bit at that response, unsure if Bucky is serious or joking. There's a look over his shoulder. "I am glad that fucking did not make you miss too much of the movie, James. That would have been a shame."

There's no real heat behind the words as Zemo squirms in a bit closer, tries to arrange the blanket around them properly again.

"I still expect company in the hot tub when we are home."

"You said you wanted to watch it," Bucky insists quietly, trying to arrange Zemo's hair. It's honestly an impressive overnight growth, thick and silky soft to the touch, but it looks like it might need an extra ten minutes in the morning to tame. He gives it a few testing, furtive touches, rubbing between his fingers without pulling on it like Steve might knead on the bed.

"You'll have to tell me what it's about." He's not necessarily tired but he is in that floating, winding down phase, the stress of the day and the sex and everything else starting to pull him into a satisfied, quiet lull.

"Mm..." He nuzzles and nudges against Zemo's shoulder with his nose, kissing and nipping gently at the soft, unmarked, sensitive skin. "I'm guessing you don't mean Oeznik..." Or Steve. Who might, at the most, sit on the edge, glare at the bubbles until he thinks it's safe to stick the tips of his claws into just the rippling white surface, and then try and lick all that water and chlorine off his paw pads... Hopefully curiosity won't kill this cat.

"Mhm, and then something better came along.. Your fault, really. You have been terribly sweet today." Even if there's some paranoid part of Zemo that insists he is only doing it because of anatomy changes. It's hard to dwell on it when there are fingers in his hair or lips on his skin.

"I think our action hero is trapped among terrorists," Zemo explains absently, breathing out a contented sigh at the soft kisses and nips. He won't fall asleep like this, but it is coaxing him to relax, to let his mind wander to far more pleasant things, only half paying attention to their movie. "He is trying to fit in."

There's a light chuckle. "No, and not the cat either. You have made your choice to keep your ring on, James. That means we are still very much on a honeymoon... perhaps truly this time. That means I want to enjoy time with my husband."

And pretend it doesn't feel strange on his tongue. Husband. Not in a bad way or anything, but it is not a word he thought he would use.

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