There was something exhilirating about having Zemo's eyes on him like that, like he was already imagining all the ways he would use him. Devour him. Play with him how he liked. Fuck, Bucky really wanted him to just run those hands over him like he had in Madripoor. Even that damn little wiggle on his chin. There they were, trying to be intimidating and Zemo had played with him like a toy. That had been the point. He'd acted huffy about it after but never said anything. Because he'd liked that tiny bit of playfulness, even in the middle of them pretending.
But they weren't pretending any more.
He was bare as the day he was born, everything out for Zemo to see from his ass to his dick but it was the praise falling from the Sokovian's mouth that had his face turning five shades of red. Bucky smiled and looked up at him through long lashes. If he fluttered them a little, that was only Zemo's business. Flattery didn't work on him. Unless it was Zemo and he was wrapping up those words with a kiss that felt as sweet as the very first. Only this time, they didn't have to stop.
Bucky knew what was coming when Zemo had told him to strip. It still didn't make it any less of a surprise to watch the baron put himself on his knees between his legs. That image alone could satisfy many nights. He held his breath without realizing, nearly afraid to move as Zemo's mouth crept over his thigh. Thoughts didn't exist and if they did, they were quickly becoming lust-driven and needy. Badly, he wanted to touch him but felt like he shouldn't. Not yet. So he nudged Zemo's shoulder with his knee while his hands remained fisted in the sheets.