['I want to help you learn me', he says, and Steve finds himself marveling over what a perfect turn of phrase that is. That, yes, that is exactly what he needs, what they both need, after such a long and brutal time apart. And that's why this will work, why it already feels so right. They knew one another by heart, as boys. Circumstances tore them up but they're pulling themselves back together and learning the changes time has left in one another.
Newness and oldness, novelty and stability. This was meant to be, and Steve will never stop regretting Bucky's pain, but on his own account, it's been worth the journey.]
I think I could handle that, [He says, with respect to playing rough. He might have to go slow and careful, might need to experience the receiving end before he's comfortable giving, but he knows well enough that conflict and love aren't mutually exclusive. They can tussle and tangle and share everything.]
I'll wear the cute ones for you next time. [He promises when Bucky tugs at his boxers.] You want the ones with eagles on 'em, or should I go all out and get blue silk or somethin'? [Despite being able to fire back with banter, Steve is outright panting now, chest rising and falling, and it's clearly a relief to get free of the underwear, because he's about as hard as he can get.]
All I wanna see is you. [He sits up and catches Bucky's face in both of his hands, dragging him into a kiss that's nothing short of ravenous, desire flaring past the ability of tenderness to contain it.]
[Learning each other is probably the best way Bucky has of describing it. Or perhaps relearning would be more accurate. They've always been close, but this is a new dimension of closeness, in bodies that are relatively new to both of them. Bucky still feels like a stranger in his own skin some days, and he wonders — marvels, really — at how Steve just makes him feel so comfortable. Even before this morning, even before their decision to pursue whatever this thing is, Steve has always made him feel comfortable. Like a favorite sweater on a cold day, his friend's presence has wrapped around him, warm and comforting without clinging too tight. It's something he treasures.]
Later. [There's no need for roughness now, no need for anything that pushes those boundaries. This is about exploring each other, learning, and aside from a little play wrestling like they've already done, Bucky doesn't really see things dipping into the rough category. Not when there's miles of Steve's skin to explore, not when Steve's inviting him to tug at his clothes, to help him undress.
He can't help but grin at Steve's suggestions though. Silk? Fancy.] You can wear whatever you damn well want, I'm just going to be stripping it right off of you. Just like this.
[Which is his hands sliding the fabric down steadily, going a little bit slower than he'd like because he's afraid that his hands are going to shake if he rushes. All of him feels a little shaky, honestly, but it's not in a bad way. It's like all the want, all the need he has for Steve is bubbling up inside him, almost like a carbonated beverage that's been given a good shake. It's all pressure, like he's going to pop and spill out all over Steve. It's not a bad thing though. It's not bad at all.
It's definitely not bad when Steve's finally bared, sprawled in Bucky's bed (he's in Bucky's bed!), aroused because of what they're doing and what they're going to do and nothing, nothing in Bucky's life has felt nearly as amazing as this. He's stunned a little speechless in fact, by Steve's words and by the look in his eyes because those words, that look? That's for him.
Steve moves to kiss him and Bucky all but melts against his partner, hands curling around Steve's wrists. Lips part for him and a needy sound escapes Bucky, lost between the press of their mouths. He tries to press himself closer too, tries to get as much contact between their bodies as possible because there's no such thing as too much, not where Steve is concerned; all thoughts of slowing this down have flown right out the window. It feels too right to want to stop.
Eventually his hands drop to the waistband of his own pants, to pop the button and yank down the zip, relieving some of the pressure of fabric against his arousal. He needs to be as naked as Steve, needs to be pressed right up against all that warm, smooth skin, needs to crawl all over his partner, to learn and explore and experience. All that stands in their way is Bucky's jeans and boxer-briefs, and he means to remedy that post haste.]
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2018-07-09 01:41 pm (UTC)Newness and oldness, novelty and stability. This was meant to be, and Steve will never stop regretting Bucky's pain, but on his own account, it's been worth the journey.]
I think I could handle that, [He says, with respect to playing rough. He might have to go slow and careful, might need to experience the receiving end before he's comfortable giving, but he knows well enough that conflict and love aren't mutually exclusive. They can tussle and tangle and share everything.]
I'll wear the cute ones for you next time. [He promises when Bucky tugs at his boxers.] You want the ones with eagles on 'em, or should I go all out and get blue silk or somethin'? [Despite being able to fire back with banter, Steve is outright panting now, chest rising and falling, and it's clearly a relief to get free of the underwear, because he's about as hard as he can get.]
All I wanna see is you. [He sits up and catches Bucky's face in both of his hands, dragging him into a kiss that's nothing short of ravenous, desire flaring past the ability of tenderness to contain it.]
no subject
Date: 2018-07-09 04:21 pm (UTC)Later. [There's no need for roughness now, no need for anything that pushes those boundaries. This is about exploring each other, learning, and aside from a little play wrestling like they've already done, Bucky doesn't really see things dipping into the rough category. Not when there's miles of Steve's skin to explore, not when Steve's inviting him to tug at his clothes, to help him undress.
He can't help but grin at Steve's suggestions though. Silk? Fancy.] You can wear whatever you damn well want, I'm just going to be stripping it right off of you. Just like this.
[Which is his hands sliding the fabric down steadily, going a little bit slower than he'd like because he's afraid that his hands are going to shake if he rushes. All of him feels a little shaky, honestly, but it's not in a bad way. It's like all the want, all the need he has for Steve is bubbling up inside him, almost like a carbonated beverage that's been given a good shake. It's all pressure, like he's going to pop and spill out all over Steve. It's not a bad thing though. It's not bad at all.
It's definitely not bad when Steve's finally bared, sprawled in Bucky's bed (he's in Bucky's bed!), aroused because of what they're doing and what they're going to do and nothing, nothing in Bucky's life has felt nearly as amazing as this. He's stunned a little speechless in fact, by Steve's words and by the look in his eyes because those words, that look? That's for him.
Steve moves to kiss him and Bucky all but melts against his partner, hands curling around Steve's wrists. Lips part for him and a needy sound escapes Bucky, lost between the press of their mouths. He tries to press himself closer too, tries to get as much contact between their bodies as possible because there's no such thing as too much, not where Steve is concerned; all thoughts of slowing this down have flown right out the window. It feels too right to want to stop.
Eventually his hands drop to the waistband of his own pants, to pop the button and yank down the zip, relieving some of the pressure of fabric against his arousal. He needs to be as naked as Steve, needs to be pressed right up against all that warm, smooth skin, needs to crawl all over his partner, to learn and explore and experience. All that stands in their way is Bucky's jeans and boxer-briefs, and he means to remedy that post haste.]