experienceandpatience

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.

"Mm. Are we watching a movie or your documentary?" Bucky teases. Often Zemo does make the mistake of thinking that Bucky's trapped in a small, confined space with him, and not the other way around.

"Maybe you should grow a moustache." Bucky pokes Zemo in the cheek. Zemo can most definitely feel that grin against his skin. "You can twirl it menacingly while you take over the world." Or, you know, they can just be a disgustingly touchy-feely honeymoony couple spooning in the backseat or splashing around in the hot tub laughing at the caricatures this world has made of a grieving, displaced father and a forsaken, unstable veteran.

Did Bucky finally come home from the war, find a wife, settle down in a farm somewhere to live out the rest of his days enjoying what time he has left to savour The Dream? It sure looks like it from the outside. He wouldn't mind enjoying it for a little while longer. But at some point, hopefully before this all comes crashing down on them, they'll have to try and fix Zemo. Maybe he'll act a little differently then. He doesn't know.

"I chose you. Whatever you-- look or feel or smell like." It's not really about the ring. And he doesn't care if it also looks like Zemo is twirling his proverbial moustache from the outside. Nobody who genuinely thinks that is seeing anything from the inside.

"Oh, are you the action hero now?" It isn't really much of a question. Of course Bucky is the well-muscled action hero... although he thinks they don't usually spend their time wrapped around the villain of the story, least of all married to them. They must be breaking a rule or two somewhere.

There's a laugh and Zemo twists to look back at Bucky. "I could grow quite an impressive mustache if I so wanted, I will have you know."

... Or could. Probably not so easily as he currently is. It will need to be fixed, of course. If it isn't gone by tomorrow or the next day. Otherwise, that's-- quite a life change. Zemo has lost quite enough -- his family, his home. Is he truly ready to accept another loss in the form of a body he is far more familiar with? Even if it means more freedom, staying like this.

... But for right now, it is nice to not have to second guess every lingering look, or wait for others to recognize the terrorist from television. They can both just exist. Almost happily so. "You know, plenty of people would call you mad for that. Sam, certainly. Any other friend you have with the remaining Avengers... When they find us, they will be rather certain I have once again messed with your mind."

But Bucky doesn't seem to share that sentiment really. He lifts his hand to reach back, fingers brushing over Bucky's jaw.

"I'm pretty sure I'm the terrorist." He's got the scars and some crazy ideas about how the world should be. Some things were just better in the last century. Besides, he has no doubt that Zemo is a hero to many people. Especially these days when the world is so... tattered, left in pieces because of some men and their hubris.

"I'm with someone I want to be with, out in the middle of nowhere just enjoying the rest of my days. And you're not starting any trouble or planning anything. I finally don't have anyone to tell me what to do, where to go, how to live, who I can be around. Any real friend would be happy for me. Happy for us," Bucky insists stubbornly.

"We should be happy... We are happy." he insists quietly. "You deserve to be happy. After everything."

"Then you should be the one with the mustache, I suppose." He playfully scratches along any stubble along Bucky's jaw. He's rather certain that it isn't quite the case -- that he'd be the hero to anyone. He's not one. Just a man who did what needed to be done, what was necessary.

But there were lives lost and actions done that he can admit were... regrettable. Even if he is also equally certain that he'd do it all over again. Difficult to brood over that when Bucky is talking again though.

Where he wants to be. Zemo is rather glad to hear it, honestly. He's not-- certain about some of it. There's a quiet agreement that Bucky should not see some people he had counted as friends. The Wakandans, for instance. But Bucky also seems to be free of regret or resentment right now.

That is something, isn't it? Even if Zemo isn't quite certain how they've managed to get to this point. Neither of them ha been trying after all.

There's a brief smile regardless. "Oh, I am planning plenty of trouble for you, James. Just none of it is to do with explosives or taking lives. Most of it involves seeing if I can get get you to shove me face first into a pillow later, like old times."

It is easier to tease, to deflect, but Zemo squirms back against Bucky as much as he possibly can as he settles back towards the movie. "I am very happy, James."

Saying it feels like a curse, even if he knows that logically, it is not. Admitting it won't make it crash down, end horribly... at least not yet. "I am with the people I want to be with as well. Even Steve, the menace that he is."

And he's rather certain he'd be desperate enough to kill to keep it, to not return to to a tiny, lonely little cage away from what is his, willingly his. "... It is a bit daunting, you know, admitting that. I used to countdown the days that I would be able to reunite with my family, and now I find myself wanting to live more and more. I find myself not wanting to leave you."

Bucky leans into the touch, enjoying the feel of blunt nails scratching through his five o'clock shadow. He's got the stare and the dead look in his eyes but he's not sure he can pull off a villain moustache. Maybe just a magnificent terrorist beard. He'd he more comfortable with that.

"Later?" he asks somewhat incredulously. They're not just going to sit in the hot tub, keep their hands to themselves and retire gracefully to his and her side of the bed once they've soaked long enough?

"I don't know what old times you're talking about... You do seem more energetic than usual," he observes quietly, teasingly, giving Zemo a light nudge. He can't be convinced that Zemo and Oeznik don't like Steve. He's seen them feeding and scratching the beast... Not unlike the way Zemo scratches his jaw, either. Apparently that's the fast and surefire easy way to get Steve and Bucky to relax.

"You survived Sokovia. I don't think it's for any reason other than not being at the wrong place at the right time. I don't know what your family would have wanted for you, either. But I don't want you to just-- throw this away. And Oeznik doesn't, either." He has to hope that even if Zemo gets caught, he won't just. Give up and restart the clock. Bucky is willing to fight for him. Make a case, grovel and plead, throw punches and make promises he doesn't want to make if he has to. But it's important to him that Zemo wants to fight for it too.

"You know, physically, I am older than you." Pushing into forties now, after his time in Berlin after the snap and the world went even darker. He wrinkles his nose.

"And yet, you act like the old man, scandalized by the thought of being intimate more than once." There's an exaggerated sigh, followed by a soft laugh at the nudging. Perhaps Zemo is in a far better mood than he had thought he'd have been in this morning. Perhaps that is largely because of Bucky humoring him, or getting to taste freedom for one day.

"You don't mind it." Zemo being energetic, that is, or the fact that Zemo may spoil Steve a bit when no one is looking... or invite the cat into bed when Bucky has decided he'd rather have the floor.

Although the amusement dies down a bit, the teasing note leaves his voice as he watches the screen for a few more moments, considering that. "I don't intend to throw anything away, James. I am... enjoying this time."

He's quiet a moment longer, not quite wanting to... bring up the topic that always seems to put Bucky on edge. But it can't quite be helped. "Oeznik says you do not do well when I am not around, you know. He says you stop sleeping in the bed, stop eating properly..."

Reverts back to less appropriate coping methods, it seems. "I worry. Unless I do stay like this, it is almost inevitable that I will end up back in a cage or worse... and while I have almost always gotten what I have wanted, I do not think I could talk or trick my way out of my punishment again."

"I'm not scandalised. I am old. I'm more than twice your age. But that has nothing to do with-- intimacy things," Bucky insists. Although today, the both of them are a little less irritable. Maybe it's Zemo being more comfortable in his new skin out in the open and being free to enjoy all the perks of not being recognised. Maybe it's Bucky indulging him, or trying to do the same. Even if he will be recognised, they haven't plastered his face all over the news saying he's on the run with his terrorist husband and all his old friends are looking for him. Any illusion that they're not currently together must have been shattered when their names showed up on some marriage register in Vegas. He's not sure whether they think there's still hope for him to just show up and turn Zemo in, or maybe they think it's some kind of trap and are just keeping their distance for now.

"I had a nightmare and-- didn't really. Wasn't in the mood to try. His dumplings..." Bucky lies, flinching and gripping onto Zemo a little tighter. Oeznik has no trouble calling him out and he's used to it by now, he'd never try talking his way out of trouble with Oeznik, but usually Zemo doesn't and lets Bucky get away with the occasional backslide.

"I got you out once. I can do it again," Bucky insists. "I'm not letting them take you away. I won't." Fingers dig into the soft throw until his knuckles turn white.

One of Zemo's hands smooths down Bucky's arm as it tightens around him. "James..."

They won't let him. They'll make sure Zemo is locked away, watched even closer... they surely won't let Bucky come for any sort of visit. He doesn't point that out though. There's a smile instead as his fingertips continue to rub over Bucky's arm, trying to coax him to relax.

"You're a very stubborn man." There's a soft laugh, even if it doesn't sound particularly humorous. "I will try not to be found."

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