[ He doesn't miss the shift of weight, the subtle way the two of them are pulled together like some sort of invisible thread was bridging the gap. He wonders if it is simply something magnetic about Sam or if it had anything to do with the elegant scrawl along the inside of his wrist that carried his companion's name. It isn't till he feels the softness of his lips that he shifts a little, head turning to the side and catching a glimpse of him. The muscles of his back tense briefly before relaxing, because having such spots touched still managed to send such a strange sensation shooting down his spine; but he trusts Sam in a way life hasn't let him trust very many other people.
He keeps still, at least for a second, because he wants to stay in the moment with Sam-- to keep himself from drifting into the broken memories that liked to fracture their quiet moments. The pain of his arm, the knife in his flesh-- he swallows it down. Instead lifting his flesh and blood hand to reach over his won shoulder just enough to trace his fingers along the line of his face. ]
[Sam pauses when he feels Bucky tense, but the moment passes quickly enough. With the light touch of fingers along his cheek, he turns his head slightly so he can nuzzle against Bucky's palm, playfully kissing that particular spot on his wrist, knowing just how sensitive the area is.
That feeling on contentment settles down on him once again, and he sighs before smiling warmly at his soul mate.]
Good morning to you, too. Feel like having breakfast already?
[The offer to stay longer in bed goes unsaid, but is clear in the way Sam stretches back out on the bed, all long, languid lines against the white linen. When was the last time they spent the morning lazing about, anyway?]
[ Normally his new routine calls for getting up, showering, eating and doing all that grooming he had apparently been lacking on; but seeing Sam stretching out is enough to rearrange his plans. He's in no real hurry to begin with, habit was just healthy for him, or so he had been told-- it was all supposed to help him adjust. But as far as he was concerned Sam helped more with that than any sort of schedule really did.
Leaning over he lets his fingers dance a line from his cheek down to his shoulder, pulling himself up and back onto the bed, hovering over Sam for a moment, just taking the time to really look at him. For the longest time he had wondered what he would be like, what he would sound like, if he even existed anymore; and here he was, better than Bucky could have expected. A sort of warm kindness that he could sink into with ease.
A puff of a sigh rolls from him as he leans down, weight pressing into the bed from his palms and letting him actually steal a kiss. ] Not yet.
[Bucky's reaction is definitely good for his ego, and he can't help radiating a sort of smug satisfaction as that warm weight settles on top of him carefully.]
Yeah? Just tell me when you're up for it then.
[That might not be for a while if Sam has anything to say about it though. He knows about the routine Bucky's supposed to follow, but a break from habit every once in a while shouldn't hurt.
His fingers thread through Bucky's hair, teasing the skin at the back of his neck before they find what seems to be a scar from an old bullet one. He traces it gently with his fingertips, then brings one hand up to stroke down the other's back, soothing.
He just really enjoys touching Bucky, reassuring himself that he's here in his arms, not something he dreamed up in one of his darker moments thinking he would never actually meet him.]
[ He can feel the way fingertips ghost the ridges of a scar, one he doesn't remember getting, but he knows it must have been serious to land there. Sometimes he wonders if he's better off not remembering some of these scars; but there's marks on his body he still doesn't know-- but at least with Sam there he's learning them.
Leaning down he presses another small kiss to his shoulder, skims up toward his neck briefly, it's all light touches because that's how he feels safest dealing with Sam. He's not a fool, he knows Sam isn't fragile, they've traded blows however mildly before-- but he was important. Things were different now, he had control of his senses. He didn't entirely trust himself yet, but together they were working on it. ]
I'd rather just have you now. [ The words are a mumble against his skin as he traced a line down, exploring the expanse of skin he could reach without pulling away. ]
[The press of Bucky's body against his as they breathed in and out together (something that Sam noticed they seemed to do often and usually without thought) was relaxing, and he lets himself sink in further among the pillows, dragging Bucky down with him. He lets out a low whistle, eyes glinting mischievously.]
That was smooth. [Distracted by the kisses along his neck, he sighs and tilts his head to the side to bare more of his throat. He relishes the intimacy between them while at the same time cherishing the little glimpses of the man under all the walls, a reminder of the trust placed in him.] You know you don't have to charm me to keep me in bed, right?
[His own hands remain busy, too, though for the moment he rests them on Bucky's hips. There's a raised line of scar tissue there, jagged rather than smooth, and he rubs his thumb along it, curious. It felt like an exploration every time they fell into bed together, learning what made each other tick.]
[ His chest tightens for a moment, but what follows is something closer to a chuckle, a soft puff of amusement as he rested against his shoulder briefly. There was something about being with Sam that always made his chest a little lighter, his heart a little easier, and in those moments he found he could enjoy life a bit more. Take it for what it was rather than what he had lost, what had been taken from him. ]
I didn't think it counted as charming if it's true. [ And it was, he would pick Sam before routine, before food, really, because there's something that twists in his chest for him now when they part. It isn't jealousy or possession-- which while he does feel, on occasion, is what his first assumption had been; but longing. He just wanted to be near him, to keep him happy, because he felt some sort of strange calling for it. ]
Right? [ He mimics Sam's previous inflection, but it doesn't last long. Not with the press of skin against that scar-- so sharp and twisted, a knife wound he's pretty sure, less raised than the burns which he's becoming familiar with. Though not as interesting in either case as the little marks he can leave with his teeth under Sam's jaw. ]
[Sam can't help the noise that escapes him when Bucky starts to pay more thorough attention to his throat, the light scrape of teeth stoking the heat already building low in his belly. His hands tighten on Bucky's hips as he swallows.]
I guess you're right. This seems like more fun anyway.
[Their legs tangle together, and Sam takes the opportunity to trail his toes up strong calves, trying to find that ticklish spot he'd found during one of their previous romps. While that's going on, he tries to distract him by arching his back and nuzzling against his temple, chuckling quietly.]
Mmhm. [ He murmurs in that very much 'of course I am' sort of way, though it's more teasing than insistent. Of course that small flicker of smug is lost when he feels a bump to the back of his leg-- which wouldn't be bad except it make shim laugh, and that makes him force an irritated huff. Leaning down he gives a firmer bite, like a sort of reprimand before pulling up so he can stare down at Sam. ]
Are you trying to start something? [ And there's no mistaking the little twinkle of deviance that's already there, forehead dropped to press against Sam's. ] Because it sure seems like it.
[He'll deny it later, but Sam definitely squeaks when Bucky bites down, breathing out a curse. He squirms for a moment, trying to regroup, then drags his fingers up Bucky's torso to where he knows he's sensitive.]
I had no idea we were competing for something. What are we even playing for and how do you plan on winning, huh? [Pulling himself away from the pillows, he leans forward to brush his lips teasingly against Bucky's, before nipping at his bottom lip in retaliation.
He sits up fully now, crowding up against him playfully, enjoying the feeling of their skin sliding together.] Don't tell me you're going to end up cheating somehow?
[ Another laugh escapes, but this one isn't muffled as well, arms buckling just a little to protect his sides; it's hard to glare when he's laughing, he finds. It's unfair, really, he decides, because he has to support himself and Sam is using that to his advantage. It's enough to get him to rock back onto his knees, hands sliding along the outside of Sam's thighs once he's slipped out of the kiss, using the grip to yank him downward and up against his lap. Propping his lower back and hips against the muscle of his thighs. ]
I didn't know there were rules. [ Which means he might cheat, if there was such a thing. Especially considering the way his hands were already snaking up his thighs, toward the inner skin, searching out sensitive spots, more than willing to abuse their intimacy to tickle him in return. To be fair though, Sam started it. ]
[The sudden change in position when he's dragged into Bucky's lap has him squawking and pinwheeling his arms for a second before he steadies himself against his shoulders and chest.]
That was so totally cheating, Bucky!
[He's about to complain more when he notices those hands creeping their way across his thighs teasingly and he wriggles in an attempt to dislodge them. This doesn't exactly go according to plan - the only thing he manages to move is himself, out of Bucky's lap and toppling back onto the bed. He doesn't go down alone though - keeping his hold on those shoulders, he does his best to drag him down with him, with bright laughter interspersed with stolen kisses all the way until they're once more tangled in the sheets.]
That's how we deal with cheaters. [He's kind of breathless at this point, but he really, really doesn't mind, feeling the warm glow of happiness unfurl in his chest.]
Really, becaus eI don't feel like I'm cheating. [ He offers, far to casually, and very aware that he might be breakign the rules-- but that was half the fun. Earning that kind of laughter out of Sam meant a lot more to him than he was able to express. It was so much more satisfying to bring that kind of join-- he'd probably never change his instincts, his desire to fight-- but now with that he had the desire to keep Sam happy. To watch that smile sprea don his lips in a way that satisfied him more than anything else.
Not to mention, it was fun. ]
Careful, I'm very delicate. [ And he laughs, really laughs, because he can't help but try and get a rise out of him-- to feel his chest vibrate with laughter, to see that twinkle in his eyes reserved for him. Selfish, maybe, but Bucky never said he was a good guy.
Easing back down over him he grins, at least as long as he can, half stifled by the peppering of kisses he isn't really able to resist. ] Is it... [ He hums, a mock thoughtful sound as he sinks into a deeper kiss, speaking between the press of his lips. ] I can't say I mind.
You [And here Sam fixes him with his best stern look (which was not working very well at all with the way his stomach flutters with having Bucky close enough to kiss)] are a liar and a cheat, James Buchanan Barnes. And you're about as delicate as my ass.
[Still, he fairly bubbles with happiness with the fact that Bucky's gotten to the point where he feels comfortable enough to laugh along with Sam and be playful. It had been a struggle to get to where they are now, but seeing Bucky smirking smugly down at him, his eyes bright and alive, it had all been worth it.
The kiss Bucky draws him into makes him groan, lips parting instinctively even as he moves against his partner. He presses up into his touch, savoring the moment, trying not to let on what he's about to do. He's not sure how successful he is, but all's fair in love and war and attempting to flip his soul mate over to reverse their positions. Bucky's not the only one who plays dirty, sadly enough.]
As I recall... [ His voice trails off for a moment, feeling the press of Sam back up into him, the warmth of his skin and that smile-- it's distracting. ] Your ass can be quite delicate given the right situations. [ And with that grin there's no doubt he knows what he means, because he likes to embarrass Sam a little-- like's that he knows him well enough to do it now, and that he gets it, really gets it.
Of course all that smug is a little turned on him when he feels the grip on his hips, though if he could stop the set of them from rolling over, he doesn't make any indication toward it. Flopped out on the bed he peers up at Sam though that same pleased look hasn't left his face. Fingers skim the lines up the outside of his thighs and to his hips, only pausing to raise an eyebrow. ] Comfortable?
[He's always surprised and taken off guard whenever Bucky says something that manages to fluster him, and this is no exemption. He tries to cover up by huffing, but the blush the spreads across his cheeks and down his neck is pretty much a giveaway.]
You say that like you haven't been in the same situation. [Recently, even.] And yes, I do have the best seat in the house.
[Somehow, Sam still feels like he's been played, but he enjoys his view from his perch regardless - having Bucky sprawled out under him is always a welcome sight - so he makes himself comfortable. Of course, that means squirming around as much as possible (to further his advantage) before pressing down until he was pretty much settled on his belly on top of his soul mate. Eyes flicking up to catch Bucky's, he leans down to place a careful kiss to his skin.]
Fair point. [ There's a sense of pride in seeing that flush, the way it blooms against his skin and makes a rumble o fa laugh emerge before he's thought about it. He wants to kiss every inch of that blush, to run his mouth over every bit of skin he can find, just to listen to those satisfied little noises Sam sometimes makes.
though the squirming is a bit distracting, and there's no doubt Bucky is enjoying it when he can't resist lifting his hips, just enough to give a slow roll and jostle Sam settled atop of him. That is till he starts leaning down, putting them a little more flush and Bucky finds himself very much enthralled by the sight of Sam's mouth against his skin (and who wouldn't be?). Clearing his throat, he gives a little trace of his fingertips around the shell of Sam's ear, a delicate sort of touch, reserved for these little moments. ]
[That touch results in a pleased sigh from Sam, and he turns his head to nuzzle against Bucky's palm and wrist. He's not about to be deterred so easily though, and he turns his attention back to teasing his lips up along Bucky's chest. His hands come into play soon enough as well, one tracing designs across his back and hip, the other moving upwards to brush his thumb against a nipple.
He shudders at the friction between their hips, and he gives a quiet purr at the sensation though the sound is muffled against Bucky's skin. He sucks one last mark (for now) at the junction where Bucky's neck meets his shoulder and admires the dark bruise blossoming on that pale skin before pulling away slightly, grinning smugly.]
[ As strange as it is, he wished those kinds of marks would linger for longer-- that his body wasn't built to work in overdrive. It'll be there for a bit but fade away like most other things that were that light. Though Bucky had his fair share of scars scraped along the skin, so clearly it wasn't perfect. A little hum leaves his lips as Sam moves and he just wants to drag the pair of them together so tight. Pressing his fingers into Sam's back he rolls his hips again, because that sort of friction he could get addicted to. ]
You're in the running. [ His eyes crinkle in the corners with the way the smile pulls at his lips, because he's gained a bit of an appreciation for antagonizing Sam. Mostly because his face is so expressive, so open and honest and Bucky could really get addicted to that. ]
[That makes him raise an eyebrow.] Oh, you mean I've got some competition somewhere around here then? Not really seeing it.
[He rocks back against that slow thrust though, eyes sliding closed with a quiet noise of pleasure. He pauses to stroke his hands down Bucky's chest and shoulders, leaving light scratches in his wake that he soothes with kisses. He likes the way that he looks with the marks he leaves, as if they're another claim he has on Bucky, as if the writing on his inner wrist declaring he's Sam's isn't enough.
It's particularly satisfying when they fool around right before going out, and he's able to press a hand to Bucky's skin where he knows a bruise still is under those layers of clothes, watch his eyes go dark at the reminder. It's almost as satisfying as the process of getting him to fall apart in the first place.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fffffffffffffffffffffff
He keeps still, at least for a second, because he wants to stay in the moment with Sam-- to keep himself from drifting into the broken memories that liked to fracture their quiet moments. The pain of his arm, the knife in his flesh-- he swallows it down. Instead lifting his flesh and blood hand to reach over his won shoulder just enough to trace his fingers along the line of his face. ]
Morning.
oh look, new icons
That feeling on contentment settles down on him once again, and he sighs before smiling warmly at his soul mate.]
Good morning to you, too. Feel like having breakfast already?
[The offer to stay longer in bed goes unsaid, but is clear in the way Sam stretches back out on the bed, all long, languid lines against the white linen. When was the last time they spent the morning lazing about, anyway?]
YAY!!
Leaning over he lets his fingers dance a line from his cheek down to his shoulder, pulling himself up and back onto the bed, hovering over Sam for a moment, just taking the time to really look at him. For the longest time he had wondered what he would be like, what he would sound like, if he even existed anymore; and here he was, better than Bucky could have expected. A sort of warm kindness that he could sink into with ease.
A puff of a sigh rolls from him as he leans down, weight pressing into the bed from his palms and letting him actually steal a kiss. ] Not yet.
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Yeah? Just tell me when you're up for it then.
[That might not be for a while if Sam has anything to say about it though. He knows about the routine Bucky's supposed to follow, but a break from habit every once in a while shouldn't hurt.
His fingers thread through Bucky's hair, teasing the skin at the back of his neck before they find what seems to be a scar from an old bullet one. He traces it gently with his fingertips, then brings one hand up to stroke down the other's back, soothing.
He just really enjoys touching Bucky, reassuring himself that he's here in his arms, not something he dreamed up in one of his darker moments thinking he would never actually meet him.]
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Leaning down he presses another small kiss to his shoulder, skims up toward his neck briefly, it's all light touches because that's how he feels safest dealing with Sam. He's not a fool, he knows Sam isn't fragile, they've traded blows however mildly before-- but he was important. Things were different now, he had control of his senses. He didn't entirely trust himself yet, but together they were working on it. ]
I'd rather just have you now. [ The words are a mumble against his skin as he traced a line down, exploring the expanse of skin he could reach without pulling away. ]
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That was smooth. [Distracted by the kisses along his neck, he sighs and tilts his head to the side to bare more of his throat. He relishes the intimacy between them while at the same time cherishing the little glimpses of the man under all the walls, a reminder of the trust placed in him.] You know you don't have to charm me to keep me in bed, right?
[His own hands remain busy, too, though for the moment he rests them on Bucky's hips. There's a raised line of scar tissue there, jagged rather than smooth, and he rubs his thumb along it, curious. It felt like an exploration every time they fell into bed together, learning what made each other tick.]
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I didn't think it counted as charming if it's true. [ And it was, he would pick Sam before routine, before food, really, because there's something that twists in his chest for him now when they part. It isn't jealousy or possession-- which while he does feel, on occasion, is what his first assumption had been; but longing. He just wanted to be near him, to keep him happy, because he felt some sort of strange calling for it. ]
Right? [ He mimics Sam's previous inflection, but it doesn't last long. Not with the press of skin against that scar-- so sharp and twisted, a knife wound he's pretty sure, less raised than the burns which he's becoming familiar with. Though not as interesting in either case as the little marks he can leave with his teeth under Sam's jaw. ]
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I guess you're right. This seems like more fun anyway.
[Their legs tangle together, and Sam takes the opportunity to trail his toes up strong calves, trying to find that ticklish spot he'd found during one of their previous romps. While that's going on, he tries to distract him by arching his back and nuzzling against his temple, chuckling quietly.]
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Are you trying to start something? [ And there's no mistaking the little twinkle of deviance that's already there, forehead dropped to press against Sam's. ] Because it sure seems like it.
And I know I'll win.
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I had no idea we were competing for something. What are we even playing for and how do you plan on winning, huh? [Pulling himself away from the pillows, he leans forward to brush his lips teasingly against Bucky's, before nipping at his bottom lip in retaliation.
He sits up fully now, crowding up against him playfully, enjoying the feeling of their skin sliding together.] Don't tell me you're going to end up cheating somehow?
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I didn't know there were rules. [ Which means he might cheat, if there was such a thing. Especially considering the way his hands were already snaking up his thighs, toward the inner skin, searching out sensitive spots, more than willing to abuse their intimacy to tickle him in return. To be fair though, Sam started it. ]
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That was so totally cheating, Bucky!
[He's about to complain more when he notices those hands creeping their way across his thighs teasingly and he wriggles in an attempt to dislodge them. This doesn't exactly go according to plan - the only thing he manages to move is himself, out of Bucky's lap and toppling back onto the bed. He doesn't go down alone though - keeping his hold on those shoulders, he does his best to drag him down with him, with bright laughter interspersed with stolen kisses all the way until they're once more tangled in the sheets.]
That's how we deal with cheaters. [He's kind of breathless at this point, but he really, really doesn't mind, feeling the warm glow of happiness unfurl in his chest.]
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Not to mention, it was fun. ]
Careful, I'm very delicate. [ And he laughs, really laughs, because he can't help but try and get a rise out of him-- to feel his chest vibrate with laughter, to see that twinkle in his eyes reserved for him. Selfish, maybe, but Bucky never said he was a good guy.
Easing back down over him he grins, at least as long as he can, half stifled by the peppering of kisses he isn't really able to resist. ] Is it... [ He hums, a mock thoughtful sound as he sinks into a deeper kiss, speaking between the press of his lips. ] I can't say I mind.
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[Still, he fairly bubbles with happiness with the fact that Bucky's gotten to the point where he feels comfortable enough to laugh along with Sam and be playful. It had been a struggle to get to where they are now, but seeing Bucky smirking smugly down at him, his eyes bright and alive, it had all been worth it.
The kiss Bucky draws him into makes him groan, lips parting instinctively even as he moves against his partner. He presses up into his touch, savoring the moment, trying not to let on what he's about to do. He's not sure how successful he is, but all's fair in love and war and attempting to flip his soul mate over to reverse their positions. Bucky's not the only one who plays dirty, sadly enough.]
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Of course all that smug is a little turned on him when he feels the grip on his hips, though if he could stop the set of them from rolling over, he doesn't make any indication toward it. Flopped out on the bed he peers up at Sam though that same pleased look hasn't left his face. Fingers skim the lines up the outside of his thighs and to his hips, only pausing to raise an eyebrow. ] Comfortable?
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You say that like you haven't been in the same situation. [Recently, even.] And yes, I do have the best seat in the house.
[Somehow, Sam still feels like he's been played, but he enjoys his view from his perch regardless - having Bucky sprawled out under him is always a welcome sight - so he makes himself comfortable. Of course, that means squirming around as much as possible (to further his advantage) before pressing down until he was pretty much settled on his belly on top of his soul mate. Eyes flicking up to catch Bucky's, he leans down to place a careful kiss to his skin.]
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though the squirming is a bit distracting, and there's no doubt Bucky is enjoying it when he can't resist lifting his hips, just enough to give a slow roll and jostle Sam settled atop of him. That is till he starts leaning down, putting them a little more flush and Bucky finds himself very much enthralled by the sight of Sam's mouth against his skin (and who wouldn't be?). Clearing his throat, he gives a little trace of his fingertips around the shell of Sam's ear, a delicate sort of touch, reserved for these little moments. ]
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He shudders at the friction between their hips, and he gives a quiet purr at the sensation though the sound is muffled against Bucky's skin. He sucks one last mark (for now) at the junction where Bucky's neck meets his shoulder and admires the dark bruise blossoming on that pale skin before pulling away slightly, grinning smugly.]
So am I winning yet?
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You're in the running. [ His eyes crinkle in the corners with the way the smile pulls at his lips, because he's gained a bit of an appreciation for antagonizing Sam. Mostly because his face is so expressive, so open and honest and Bucky could really get addicted to that. ]
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[He rocks back against that slow thrust though, eyes sliding closed with a quiet noise of pleasure. He pauses to stroke his hands down Bucky's chest and shoulders, leaving light scratches in his wake that he soothes with kisses. He likes the way that he looks with the marks he leaves, as if they're another claim he has on Bucky, as if the writing on his inner wrist declaring he's Sam's isn't enough.
It's particularly satisfying when they fool around right before going out, and he's able to press a hand to Bucky's skin where he knows a bruise still is under those layers of clothes, watch his eyes go dark at the reminder. It's almost as satisfying as the process of getting him to fall apart in the first place.]