merakieros: They probably shouldn’t do this here. But the moment Bucky’s mouth touches

merakieros:

They probably shouldn’t do this here. But the moment Bucky’s mouth touches his, everything else seems muted around them: the roar of the war, the shouts of their fellow soldiers, even the hum of the nighttime insects. All of it fades next to the flesh-and-blood reality of Bucky in his arms.

He sifts Bucky’s short hair between his fingers and tastes his lips. Bucky’s hands are everywhere, skimming his sides, framing his hips, sliding under the top of his uniform to spread over his chest. His fingers are hot on Cap’s skin, and before Steve can think about it his own hands have undone Bucky’s pants and slid inside. Bucky moans into his mouth, arching his back, and Steve is lost then, lost in touching him, in finally understanding that he’s wanted this all along.

They probably shouldn’t do this now. But if there’s one thing Steve knows, it’s that you can’t live for later.

_{Commission for exaggeratedspecificity​} 

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