[if his skin was hot before, the featherlight pressure of Bucky's tongue along his stomach has him arching, writhing, desperate as if he's desperate for his touch like air--
Which makes sense because he keeps panting out these short little breaths, wiggling even his feet, to try and tug Buck closer. He succeeds, if only catching his husband around the ass.]
Touch. Me. More! Give it to me...I'll help myself and make you watch...after the entire nation sees me.
no subject
Which makes sense because he keeps panting out these short little breaths, wiggling even his feet, to try and tug Buck closer. He succeeds, if only catching his husband around the ass.]
Touch. Me. More! Give it to me...I'll help myself and make you watch...after the entire nation sees me.