He wanted to smile when Zemo went frantic getting his robe off but his mouth was full so he chuckled instead, the vibration letting Zemo to slip a little deeper down his throat. Bucky made a point of showing that he didn't care how hard Zemo was with him like this, bobbing his head up and down with the clear purpose of making him come completely undone. He wanted to see that perfectly combed Sokovian haircut messed up in the worst way possible.
Zemo had called him beautiful but he was the one who looked like a da Vinci painting, his body open and willing beneath him. He'd done sketches of him like this but his imagination paled to the real thing. There was so much he wanted to explore and touch. Every freckle, every scar, every goddamn pretty inch of him.
Bucky still didn't believe he deserved someone like this. Someone who treated him with such adoration, even after knowing everything there was to know. Zemo didn't just see him as the machine, the monster. He saw him as so much more. And he didn't deserve that kind of devotion. But he'd selfishly steal every ounce of it that Zemo was willing to give him.
His arms went underneath Zemo, nails scraping at his lower back as he tugged him closer like he wasn't already burying his face deep enough between those thighs. Though he was careful when he used his teeth but couldn't resist using them a little, grazing them softly over that sensitive skin as it glided between his lips. He groaned, easing his throat around a hard swallow, letting himself choke without struggle until Zemo pulled back, licking his lips immediately after. Christ, he was really getting into the taste.
"Say my name again," Bucky half-begged half-ordered. Zemo had only called him Bucky once and it hadn't meant anything then. Now, every James was an I love you and it hurt in the best way.