anything, sure^^
Bucky was always damn cold these days. He seemed to be constantly shivering, even when he had his arm wrapped in layers of cloth to keep the cold alloy away from his sensitive flesh.
Steve suspected the cold was less something actually physical at that point – especially when Buck crawled in at the foot of the bed again, slipping beneath the covers like a cat.
It looked enough like a trained response that it never failed to make Steve’s belly clench and his teeth grind together but he never asked Bucky about his time in Hydra. He figured before getting an answer he’d get two middle fingers and a big, resounding ‘Fuck you’.
As it was, Bucky never asked for permission to tug at Steve’s sweatpants. There wasn’t so much as a ‘hello’ or ‘good night’, really. No communication at all, other than the soft rustling of the sheets and the tickling of Bucky’s long hair as he curled up and blindly sought Steve’s cock with clammy fingers.
He needn’t be hard for this – in fact, it was better if he wasn’t. It made it easier for Bucky to fit the girth into his mouth, suckle it into the warmth until his breath was tickling Steve’s pubes and he could lie his head on his best friend’s thigh.
Steve often debated pushing a hand down and stroking fingers through Buck’s unwashed hair, but never had the balls to do it. He seemed so content, down there in his warm, little bunker with Steve’s cock to keep warm. He never shivered when he was curled between Chris’ legs and everything was reduced to darkness and smell and the slow, steady pound of Steve’s heartbeat in the large artery of his thigh.
He didn’t have the heart to force Bucky to talk about it, and if he was quite honest with himself, he enjoyed the gentle suckling and wet warmth too much to jeopardize it with Bucky’s cold, pissy quiet.
Cyberrat Writes 