This was torture. But it was also sweet, wonderful bliss.
It was impossible to look away. He didn't want to. Zemo was framed like some sultry picture between his legs and Bucky was completely transfixed by the sight. He'd imagined how that mouth would feel wrapped around him, wondered how Zemo would take that first taste. Those thoughts had been fleeting at first, drifting in and out of his mind like little birds. Not even in Latvia had he dared to think he could turn those thoughts into reality. Not even when Zemo had come out of that bathroom with damp hair smelling like expensive soap and made Bucky want to dive his nose into that wet neck. He could barely believe that Zemo on his knees in front of him right now wasn't just some glitch in his mind, a dream that he'd wake up from.
Oh that tongue sure as hell felt real. Bucky cursed under his breath in Russian. He inhaled sharply through his nose, unable to keep himself completely silent as Zemo teased his hot flesh. When he took that first swallow, Bucky whined. His mouth was like wet velvet. Everything was hot and soft as he felt himself slide further inside. He gripped the sheets so tight, his knuckles went white and felt like fire. He was rigid, tense, afraid of giving in to that urge that he had felt building in him the moment their lips had touched.
But Zemo took his hand and moved it to his own head. Bucky finally breathed. He curled his fingers into his dark hair immediately. This was what he wanted. This was what he'd craved for so long. Not just to be touched but to be allowed to touch back. "дорогой," he purred. His hand moved to caress the side of his face, feeling how Zemo's cheeks widened and vibrated around him. "не будь нежным."