Who Am I? » [Stucky]

139. Kiss Me

Bucky pootered along at a toddler's space, dawdling in enthusiastically and dragging his feet lethargically with a shuffling scuffing noise as he wiped up the slick lines still scoring his face.

He wanted to look presentable when he reached the quarters he was staying in.

Each door was branded with a plaque detailing the occupants, two names stamped upon each metal plate.

He eyed them up as he trailed along.

'Romanoff, Natasha A.
Barton, Clinton F.'

'Stark, Anthony E.
Banner, Robert B.'

'Rogers, Steven G.
Barnes, James B.'

Further down he could see Sam's name inscribed along with the rest of Phil's team, excluding Coulson - who he could only presume had acquired some more luxurious quarters elsewhere; providing him some exclusive privacy from the rest of the rowdy lot.

He politely tapped on his door, forging a smile onto his lips. The plodding thump of Steve's striding footfalls drummed closer and closer until the metal door opened inwards.

Steve was clothed in only his beige chinos and a low cut white wife beater. His blue eyes glittered with enamour, his features glowing with adulation. His face was guilt with the silky golden light streaming from a lamp by the bog-standard double bed at the back of the room.

"Come in..." Steve's voice was reverberate and more baritone than usual and something wicked was twinkling in his hungry lust-blown eyes. His eyes were black oceans of dilation; the pupils had swelled until only a thin hoop of shocking blue remained. His eyelids were drooping over his lusting predatory eyes, alive with an untamed hunger. A devious secretive smirk lingered on his plush full lips.

Steve - ever the gentleman - stood politely aside, acting as a doorstop and permitting Bucky entrance to their new quarters. Bucky's explorative eyes raced about, absorbing every detail and familiarising himself with the dull grey walls that seemed to decorate the entire facility and the enclosed space. It was nothing special, nor sumptuous. It was regulation and mundane it its unfashionable fittings and furnishings.

The door swooped closed and a tsunami of air splashed over his back, ruffling his long strands.

He was assaulted by a pair of possessive hands snatching his hips with bruising force, fingertips pressuring the fragile curve of his sharp hipbones, claiming that area of his body as his dominion. Before he could protest or emit a noise of surprise a pair of lips secured Bucky's lips, declaring them his property too and swallowed down any noises. He was regressed a few steps and his back slammed into the door with a rattling crack, his lips still being sieged by Steve's and being penetrated by a thirsting restless tongue. He was pinned into place, anchored by the vicelike hands appreciatively roaming his hips.

Steve ground forwards, rutting the lower parts of their bodies together in a selfish hedonistic attempt at relief and a hunt for pleasure. Bucky made a strangled noise of unexpected pleasure as Steve rolled his hips fluidly against him. An explosion of bliss seared through his buzzing body like wildfire spreads across a desert plane - consuming him whole.

Cued to halt his forceful and overbearing conquer of the smaller man by Bucky's indecent throaty whine, he departed, tongue retreating and lips recoiling. "Sorry... I've wanted to do that for the longest time..." Steve panted hissing out breaths as he bit his lip and directed his eyes to the heavens to pray for self-restraint. His voice was as sinfully heavenly as chocolate, luxurious and addictive with its gravelly ring. The way words rolled off his tongue were as heady as an intoxicating aroma. He sounded so urgently desperate and wanton.