Bucky was grinding their hips together and Zemo could have died a happy death then and there.
Zemo wasn't really the sort of person who lacked confidence. He was very sure of himself, sometimes to a fault. But it had occurred to him - on more than one occasion - that he was not worthy of Bucky's romantic attention. Bucky was intelligent, strong, gorgeous.. The image of perfection.
He'd also been through a hell of a lot of trauma and because of it, Zemo believed that Bucky deserved happiness. He also deserved to be with someone equally good. Someone who didn't have a dirty history, someone who hadn't wronged him. In many ways, Zemo knew damn well that he was a bad match for Bucky. But that didn't stop him from wanting him regardless. And if Bucky was going to return those feelings - freely, willingly - Zemo wasn't going to fight it.
No, he'd just count his lucky stars and continue to take what Bucky gave him, no matter what that looked like. ..but hopefully, their future together included more of this, because Zemo was so stricken with lust right now, he didn't know what to do with himself.
The second Bucky's mouth was on him, Zemo's skin was on fire. That robe of his was already barely covering him, but Zemo tore it off the rest of the way anyway, the room suddenly far too hot to keep it on. When he pushed himself deeper, it wasn't rough. It was eager, but he wasn't forceful. Zemo knew he couldn't hurt Bucky. That wasn't really the point. He just wanted to feel him and appreciate it, because, for all he knew, this might just be the one and only time Bucky ever allowed this to happen.
He pulled back and pushed back in again, his erection throbbing in the heat of Bucky's mouth. His fingers curled into the sheets, a gritty-sounding groan rising from that sore throat of his. "James--"