"Oh, fuck, Sam," Bucky murmurs in a sort of rapturous joy. The fact that his dick practically springs up to hit him in the lower abdomen at the suggestion would likely be a clear indicator of just how excited Bucky is at the prospect. "Perfect ass, perfect fucking tits, perfect smell." He licks his hand, still covered a bit with Sam's slick, his own saliva, and Sam's cum. "Perfect all-around."
Bucky could touch himself to cause a paint-splattered work of art across Sam's chest, but the prospect of rubbing his cock and his very hard knot across all that soft, brown skin is too exciting. He drags the heavy, wet tip of his cock down the center of Sam's chest, swipes to the left, then to the right, circling the precum and the remains of his earlier orgasm across Sam's nipples. He arranges himself so that as he's leaning over Sam he is also keeping Sam's legs caught between his own, his toes tucked beneath Sam's thighs. It doesn't take long for spurts to begin coating Sam's skin, Bucky grunting on every exhale.
And with every grunt Bucky gives him while painting Sam's chest, Sam moans as if Bucky's nailing his sweet spot, as if this is enough to get him off. A little reward and encouragement for the performance.
"So generous to me..." And Sam feels a splatter hit his bottom lip, his jawline. Doesn't bother wiping or licking it away. Lets Bucky enjoy the sight of thick white droplets on rich dark skin as Sam trails his fingers through the mess, teases his nipples and relaxes with a sigh. He reeks of the alpha. He's a mess.
It's amazing.
"Alright. God I wanna continue but... lets get somewhere comfortable enough for me to split apart on that that rifle you're packing."
"You want your shirt or you just gonna..." Bucky gestures toward Sam's chest with a cocky but contented smile. He leans back, casting around for his jeans and underwear before gingerly tucking himself away, though zipping the denim isn't even the idea of an option right now. "No complaints either way. Might be a little cold, though."
Either way, Bucky picks up individual items of clothing for both of them, placing Sam's on the pillow before he bounces at the edge of the bed. "I'm glad we did this. Are doing this."
"Tempting - but you're right. It's too cold." He does let Bucky get one last good look before he pulls his shirt over the mess. It's probably ruined - Sam's good at getting slick out of sheets, but getting an alpha wolf's cum our of his shirt seems like an herculean task he doesn't wanna undertake.
Maybe the shirt can be emergency relief assistance for his next heat I'd he's still flying solo then - they're having a good time but Sam is fad from presuming more right now. All in due time.
"Me too, puppy. Been a while since I've had this much fun with someone." A soft kiss - surprisingly sweet. "Thank you, Bucky."
The walk home is a blur. Steve is tipped generously, the night air is biting, they barely get a block before they paw at each other in an alley just off the street, in clear view of anyone walking past and not caring.
By the time they arrive at Sam's place, they're both giddy with it, drunk on each other's scents. And it feels so joyful. The apartment is nice - but Sam is a bird, so it should come as no surprise that he enjoys a lovely nest. Tastefully decorated, with hints of so mich of what Sam likes. Marvin Gaye vinyls, a wine rack with some very nice options, cozy blankets, sugary cereal on the kitchen counter. A picture of a woman who looks very similar to Sam, and what appear to be her two kids, alongside some other family photos. A threadbare air force shirt over the back of the couch, a full book shelf, tasteful art on the walls. And the place smells comfortably of Sam. If there has ever been another alpha in here, not even Bucky's sensitive nose will be able to tell, suggesting it has indeed been a long, long time.
And then of course there's Sam's bedroom. The bed is massive, but it has pillows and blankets arranged in a way where to sleep in it must be to feel snug in a nice nest.
Of course all of that would be nice to take in... but it's a blur because Sam runs the moment they're through the front door, hears Bucky immediately on his heels as he gives chase.
They crash into that lovely bed with enough force to make the headboard slam against the wall, and Sam is on his back beneath Bucky as they're tearing at each other's clothes with far more haste and urgency than elegance.
Sam hears fabric rip and doesn't care, but mewls with delight when he gets to his prize first - and manages to get Bucky's pants down enough to finally get a good look at his cock.
And damn. Just... damn. Holy shit.
The scent of slick hits the air hard and fast, Sam's mouth falling open as he just watches his hand struggle to even close around that girth. Holy shit.
"I've never had a knot before." Faced with this, he has to share it. Because he can tell this would require training and practice, not just slick and wishful thinking. "So just... holy shit, puppy, I want you to make it hurt so good, okay, stuff this in me and use me good, but we can't... I'm too tight to take that knot tonight. Everything else though. You can make me take everything else."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Bucky could touch himself to cause a paint-splattered work of art across Sam's chest, but the prospect of rubbing his cock and his very hard knot across all that soft, brown skin is too exciting. He drags the heavy, wet tip of his cock down the center of Sam's chest, swipes to the left, then to the right, circling the precum and the remains of his earlier orgasm across Sam's nipples. He arranges himself so that as he's leaning over Sam he is also keeping Sam's legs caught between his own, his toes tucked beneath Sam's thighs. It doesn't take long for spurts to begin coating Sam's skin, Bucky grunting on every exhale.
"So pretty, Perfect Bird."
no subject
And with every grunt Bucky gives him while painting Sam's chest, Sam moans as if Bucky's nailing his sweet spot, as if this is enough to get him off. A little reward and encouragement for the performance.
"So generous to me..."
And Sam feels a splatter hit his bottom lip, his jawline. Doesn't bother wiping or licking it away. Lets Bucky enjoy the sight of thick white droplets on rich dark skin as Sam trails his fingers through the mess, teases his nipples and relaxes with a sigh. He reeks of the alpha. He's a mess.
It's amazing.
"Alright. God I wanna continue but... lets get somewhere comfortable enough for me to split apart on that that rifle you're packing."
no subject
Either way, Bucky picks up individual items of clothing for both of them, placing Sam's on the pillow before he bounces at the edge of the bed. "I'm glad we did this. Are doing this."
no subject
Maybe the shirt can be emergency relief assistance for his next heat I'd he's still flying solo then - they're having a good time but Sam is fad from presuming more right now. All in due time.
"Me too, puppy. Been a while since I've had this much fun with someone." A soft kiss - surprisingly sweet. "Thank you, Bucky."
The walk home is a blur. Steve is tipped generously, the night air is biting, they barely get a block before they paw at each other in an alley just off the street, in clear view of anyone walking past and not caring.
By the time they arrive at Sam's place, they're both giddy with it, drunk on each other's scents. And it feels so joyful. The apartment is nice - but Sam is a bird, so it should come as no surprise that he enjoys a lovely nest. Tastefully decorated, with hints of so mich of what Sam likes. Marvin Gaye vinyls, a wine rack with some very nice options, cozy blankets, sugary cereal on the kitchen counter. A picture of a woman who looks very similar to Sam, and what appear to be her two kids, alongside some other family photos. A threadbare air force shirt over the back of the couch, a full book shelf, tasteful art on the walls. And the place smells comfortably of Sam. If there has ever been another alpha in here, not even Bucky's sensitive nose will be able to tell, suggesting it has indeed been a long, long time.
And then of course there's Sam's bedroom. The bed is massive, but it has pillows and blankets arranged in a way where to sleep in it must be to feel snug in a nice nest.
Of course all of that would be nice to take in... but it's a blur because Sam runs the moment they're through the front door, hears Bucky immediately on his heels as he gives chase.
They crash into that lovely bed with enough force to make the headboard slam against the wall, and Sam is on his back beneath Bucky as they're tearing at each other's clothes with far more haste and urgency than elegance.
Sam hears fabric rip and doesn't care, but mewls with delight when he gets to his prize first - and manages to get Bucky's pants down enough to finally get a good look at his cock.
And damn. Just... damn. Holy shit.
The scent of slick hits the air hard and fast, Sam's mouth falling open as he just watches his hand struggle to even close around that girth. Holy shit.
"I've never had a knot before." Faced with this, he has to share it. Because he can tell this would require training and practice, not just slick and wishful thinking. "So just... holy shit, puppy, I want you to make it hurt so good, okay, stuff this in me and use me good, but we can't... I'm too tight to take that knot tonight. Everything else though. You can make me take everything else."