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[Hearing his own words parroted back at him gave Rumlow a strange twisting sensation in his gut. It wasn't that he didn't get it. There was order in pain, and that was something he would stand by. He just didn't expect it to manifest like this. Right here and now, after they had finally come back together.

Turning his head, Rumlow's gaze followed the trail of blood as it made its slow course down to Bucky's fingertips -- the soft patter as one drip after another fell to the floor. Rumlow grasped at his wrist, fingers sliding down to gather up the blood, stop it from making more of a mess.]

It's okay, Bucky. [Rumlow murmured, other hand slipping down Bucky's front to pull him back towards him. Let him feel the skin to skin contact and hope it helped.] Tell me what you need.

[He could feel the blood gathering on his hand, threatening to spill over his knuckles. He swept his hand up higher, until he was closing his palm around the wound, keeping pressure on it. The reflection of his hand was more red than flesh, but it didn't bother him. He'd been elbow deep in gore before, this was nothing.

It wasn't disturbing, seeing Bucky like this. Rumlow just wished he had come to him. He would do just about anything for him, after all, and if a little pain helped him get his head back on straight, Rumlow would oblige. And gladly.]

[Bucky didn't expect Rumlow to be angry with him or even disappointed in his choice of outlet. He was given the impression that at least some of the agents within the ranks of HYDRA appreciated pain and even savoured it. They might not put themselves in situations to be ruined by it, but they would know what to do with it should it come about.

He turned his head, following the slide of Rumlow's hand up his arm and how it smeared blood along his arm but also had it pool and threaten to spill over Rumlow's hand. His gaze flicked back to his lover's face, and he sighed at the confirmation that there was nothing to be angry about.

Slowly, he turned the knife over in his metal hand so that he was grasping the blade and then offering the hilt to Rumlow. They had been through so much together in so little of a time, and the request would probably seem odd to anyone else. However, this was a matter of how much he trusted Rumlow, how much he wanted to include his lover in allowing him some kind of relief.]

Cut me...? Just a bit.

[He looked into Rumlow's eyes, careful to search for reaction to his request. If he was denied, he would say nothing more about it, even be easily convinced back to bed. There was momentary relief, the sea of emotion pulled back now that he had someone to engage and the continued low level sting of his wound.]

[Eyes flicking down to the proffered knife, Rumlow shifted to take hold. The request was expected. Didn't change the fact that it made Rumlow's own blood run hot, looking at Bucky in the mirror. His eyes darkened with an undeniable arousal. Call him fucked up, but he'd almost been waiting for him to ask, all these months they'd been together.

His lips parted, tongue running across his teeth. He could already taste the tang of his blood, an all too familiar flavor from the shower sessions they used to share, cleaning the wounds that would later become Bucky's wings. It had been a while since he'd last played his tongue over open wounds.

His grip around the blade tightened and he nodded.]

C'mon.

[They were gonna make a mess of the sheets, but fuck if Rumlow cared. He tugged at Bucky's arm, letting his hand squeeze a little too hard around the wound. If pain was what Bucky needed, Rumlow would make it exquisite. Make him feel whole again after Rumlow had taken him apart. His elbow caught the light switch, putting them back into darkness. Rumlow stepped back, releasing Bucky's arm so he could raise his own, tongue tracing a line of blood that was escaping, running towards his elbow.

He pointed at the bed with the knife, eyes still on Bucky's, even in the low light. They would adjust, at least until they got settled and Rumlow could turn on the lamp by the bed. Give him a little light to work with. Not because he needed it, but because he wanted to see.]

On the bed.

[If he had expected any other reaction, he shouldn't have. Rumlow's tastes and preferences had always been obvious to him, and his lover itched the scratch of rough treatment and finely precise pain infliction at times. A thumb to a bruise, expertly pressing. The rub of a nail against a healing scab. The swipe of a tongue against an open wound to gather up the oozing blood.

It wasn't that he, himself, was trying to itch that scratch for Rumlow, but his level of trust in his lover's skill and presence was enough to know that it would be. They would both be receiving exactly what they wanted, and already, there was an anticipation of relief to the mess that his head was currently in. He exhaled sharply at the grip to his arm, the sharp swell of pain that spidered through the cracks of his disjointed thoughts and emotions, all left over from the days away and his recent nightmare.

His eyes easily adjusted to the return of darkness, and he was on the move to head back to bed at the same moment of the order to do so. He walked with confident, with purpose because he had order and anticipation, but he didn't show his eagerness. In the end, he was still a professional, and he seated himself on the corner of the bed, his feet flat on the floor, his mismatched hands folded together and hanging between his parted knees. He tracked Rumlow with his eyes, his face impassive other than his eyes which were both needy and troubled.]

Do you want my wings out? [It wasn't an offer he made often, if at all. They were a point of weakness after all, one that could mix the pain and the pleasure if Rumlow wanted to.]

[The offer of wings had Rumlow's attention. Bucky was fortunate that his point of weakness could be hidden away, to have them proposed as an optional addition to this little scene was a treat indeed. He toyed with the knife as he stood before Bucky and considered. Would this be laced with pleasure as much as it would with pain?

He closed the space between them, tipping Bucky's face up towards his. Wet, red fingerprints were left behind on his jaw, his cheek. Rumlow smeared it into his skin and let out a slow breath. To him, this was already pleasure.]

Not yet.

[His hand came down to Bucky's chest instead and gave him a shove.]

On your back. Legs spread.

[The words came out clipped. Orders both. Bucky needed command, needed to sink back into it, to tame his wild thoughts with the leash of obedience. Rumlow normally didn't like to do this to Bucky, but this was a special circumstance.]

[He felt the smear of blood on his skin, could imagine what it might look like. The smear of blood down his flesh arm was still very much conscious to him, though the wound had began to slow as his enhanced healing factor took over. He said nothing against the rub of blood on his face, aware that it probably didn't look like much in how dim of light they currently were awake in.

Yet, the shove and the orders had instantaneous effect as he went backwards and landed with a small bounce on the mattress. He pulled himself up it by his elbows so that only below his knees hung off the edge of the bed. As ordered, his legs spread apart and he even lifted them slightly to enhance the angle of his hip and frame his groin.

Commands were easy to follow, focused his mind, forced the nightmares back. He waited with avid attention on Rumlow, waiting for the next order to calm him down the rest of the way. The unsettled emotions were still there, but they were more easily ignored with the idea that he could and would be ordered.]

[Stepping between Bucky's legs, Rumlow looked him over, as if surveying him. Gave him a few moments to wait, let the anticipation build. Where would Rumlow start, how would he use that knife?

He flipped the knife so the blade pointed down, knees knocking against Bucky's to spread them wider. Rumlow's teeth dragged across his bottom lip, eyes catching on Bucky's cock. Wouldn't be tough to see if Bucky started to enjoy it more than a balm from his nightmares. Rumlow huffed, and began to drop down to his knees.

Running a hand along the inside of Bucky's thigh, he tipped his head to rest a stubble covered cheek against the top of the other. His breath dusted over Bucky's sac, fingers seeking the cleft just beneath. The knife Rumlow kept below the edge of the bed, hidden from view.]

Feet on the edge of the bed.

[Rumlow straightened, sitting back on his heels. His hands rested atop his legs, glancing down at the blade in hand. The blood was starting to dry already. He flaked off some with his fingernail.]

[The anticipation did build, and he watched Rumlow in the low light. His mind clamored for an idea on what his lover might decide to do, what with such expert skills with a knife and interrogation methods. He knew that Rumlow was a rough man and enjoyed inflicting pain as much as receiving it in rough go arounds like what they happened to do.

He parted his legs wider, and his feet rose immediately with the order as he dug his heels into the edge of the bed in order to hook them there. He curled his fingers into the blanket to prevent himself from reaching out for Rumlow as his lover lowered down closer to him, and he hissed a sound of delight at the rasp of stubble against his sensitive thigh.

Yet, another part of his senses strained in anticipation for the bite of the knife, aware that it was there somewhere. Rumlow wasn't applying it, but the build up was enough to make him hypersensitive. He stayed perfectly still aside from a shiver across his thighs and down his abs.

He watched, keeping impassive. Waiting. A bit desperate.]

[On top of an excellent view, the position gave Rumlow more room to work. He could see the tremble that ran through Bucky's body, knew that the tension had grown. Not thick enough to cut, but he'd apply the knife all the same. He lifted it, pushed up enough so that he could spy Bucky's face as he brought the edge of the blade light against his skin.

The touch was delicate, so much so that it hardly left a mark. Only a thin line, not even red, the threat of a cut but nothing so satisfying. He ducked his head to hide the amusement in his eyes. There was no pain, but there was focus. Rumlow did it again, finger atop the blade to control how hard he pressed. He drew a meaningless line, only ever splitting the top layer of skin, such control he had.

Again, and then once more, Rumlow teased him with lines drawn in flesh, but denied him the split and pain he needed. He knew Bucky was growing tense, could feel it in the muscles beneath his hand, twitching with want and need. Rumlow pushed up enough to look him in the eye, catching his gaze when he finally brought the blade sharply across his inner thigh. Red cut across pale lines left behind, quickly beading crimson.

Rumlow said nothing, only watched.]

[The anticipation grew and grew, building on the influx of emotions that had sent him to the bathroom in the first place. He almost reached across the dig his metal fingers into the cut that he had created on his flesh arm because he could tell that Rumlow was teasing him specifically to build things to more agonizing heights. He needed this, but aside from the slide of the blade - a threat - there was little that could do more than tighten his skin over his muscles at they clenched.

His fingers instead clenched in the blanket, watching and visibly twitching on the second and third expert passes of the knife blade. He bit his lower lip, his muscles bunching as if he might snatch the knife away to help himself. It was not even scratching an itch, but he felt as if he were drowning doubly: in anticipation and desperation for relief.

When the first slice came, he exhaled violently, tension flowing through him as he arched on the bed. It was a simple spark of physical pain in the sea of emotional upheaval, but it was enough to refocus him, to draw him away from the drowning sensation for a moment or two. His lips pinched into a thin line, and he made a soft noise, almost a plea if it didn't end with a growl.]

Please.

[Bucky didn't need to ask twice. Another swift motion and a second red line, parallel to the first, appeared on his skin. It too, began to bleed, but Rumlow did nothing more than glance at it. Simply continued to drag the blade feather light along his leg, drawing closer to his sac. Another press and a third line showed, a few inches further up than the last. It was deeper, though not by much, enough to make Bucky bleed thicker and faster.

Setting the knife on the mattress between Bucky's legs, Rumlow moved in, palm pressing his thigh down against the bed so he could lap at the wounds. His tongue coated in the familiar tang of Bucky's blood, he began to suck at the wound, sharp with the press of teeth. His eyes flicked up to Bucky's face briefly before they shut and he licked at the new red mark that surrounded the still oozing cut. The others left smears on Rumlow's cheek, but he turned his attention to them next.

Another bite and suck, laved over with his tongue to soothe and Rumlow's fingers sneaked back down to take hold of the knife once more. He sat himself upright again, hand stroking up Bucky's unmarred thigh.]

More?

[He asked, though Rumlow already knew the answer. He licked a little blood from his lips, itching to cut again. The pain it elicited was part of it, but giving Bucky this relief was more. And maybe he was a little vampiric in Hell because he missed the taste of his blood.]

[He groaned low in his throat at the second cut, so close to the first so that the sharp bite of pain intensified with already screaming nerves alerting him to something new close by. His eyes clenched shut, and he was left chewing on his lower lip, bruising as he was was so keenly aware of the slight touch - almost an affectionate caress - of the blade further down his thigh, getting deeper and deeper to the meat of it, to the more dangerous areas where far more vital veins and arteries would lay.

He made a new soft noise, a cross between a groan and a sob, his head lolling back on the mattress so his hair fanned out around him. The third cut was slightly deeper, but he could tell the difference in the same thought as he could be impressed with Rumlow's control and skill with the blade. He put up no resistance as his leg was forced down, splaying out as if in offering, and he managed to disentangle one of his hands to press his fingers into the thickness of Rumlow's hair, gripping and tugging sharply as his lover licked at his wounds.

It had been a long while since they had done this, he thought distantly. The bites followed with caresses of tongue and the rasp of stubble on his skin. It pushed him back to better times where they was less overall confusion to himself. A time when unhealing lacerations were his greatest source of upheaval. Now, he settled, tension easing away with the treatment, his fingers still very much stuck in Rumlow's hair.

His eyes flicked down at the question, and it took him a second longer than usual to process. He blinked, his eyebrows drawing together and his lips parting with a wordless sound. He managed to nod his head, given assent. He needed this; he needed this for them, not just him.]

[Much as he liked the fingers in his hair, it limited his movements and Rumlow tossed his head slightly to dislodge Bucky's hand. He kissed it after, to reassure him, but that was all he got before he switched to the other thigh, tracing lines to bring up the tension all over again. He didn't take as long, just enough to make Bucky squirm and then slice. A fourth line joined the others, deeper like the last.

His fingers pressed into this one, smearing blood. A little more pressure and Rumlow let up, pushing onto his feet. Hopping onto the bed, he looked down at his handiwork in approval. A nice mess of blood that he was sure would drip down to the sheets, but he didn't care. By the time he was done, Bucky was going to be bloody all over.

He moved and came to straddle his lap, staring down at his face with obvious intent. He shifted atop him, getting comfortable and not minding one bit that his bare ass was atop Bucky's dick. He expertly flipped the knife between his fingers and then brought it point down against his chest, just above his heart.

Without warning, Rumlow dragged it sharp across his skin, giving him another cut that nearly reached his nipple.]

[He disengaged, taking not offense to the refusal to allow him a handle-hold. He was far more prepared when Rumlow started on his other thigh, holding out better even as the tension built across the planes of his muscled. He again exhaled explosively when the slice finally came as more than a tease, and he arched, his body given a jerk as if to want to escape the pain that now lit up on both of his legs. He could feel the slow ooze of blood down each, the pressure of Rumlow's fingers was enough to make him twitch and peer at his lover.

He almost sat up when Rumlow stood, thinking that their little session was over. It had been enough to chase away the sheer intensity of his emotions, allowing him to box them off again for a time. He pushed himself up on his elbows, about to ask if they should go back to bed and instead, he found his lap filled with his lover. It sent the first real shivers of arousal through him as he shifted to set his heels higher on the bed so that Rumlow could rest back against his thighs if necessary. It also allowed him to shift under Rumlow too.

He tipped his head back even as he was still poised on his elbows, showing a hint of the left side of his neck. He didn't inhale and didn't shake as the knife point came over his heart, simply watching with an intense gaze. He was finally focused, finally able to involve himself rather than use all of this to chase back how overwhelmed he had been.

He hissed at the slice to his chest, his hips bucking in response, but his eyes left Rumlow's face to watch the blood bead and rise quickly then gravity took over and it began a slow almost lazy track off his pectoral and heading south towards where Rumlow was settled in his lap. His nipple hardened in response to the pain, intensifying it and off-setting the sharpness of the knife bite with a tender of pleasure. He rolled his hips up against his lover's ass, grinding even as he watched his own blood curve around the cut of his abs, making continue progress south to where it would caress and smear against Rumlow's skin as well.]

Kiss me.

[Rolling with each rock of Bucky's hips, Rumlow purred just as much to see the blood flow free. The warm, wet feel of it hitting his leg made him shift, smearing against their skin. It was contrary to their usual positions, but Rumlow liked it. Bucky grinding against his ass just made him want to push back. He did. Groaning a little during, Rumlow's finger came down to drag across the wound, gathering the blood.

He smirked at Bucky's command, and Rumlow brought the finger to his lips, spreading the blood across them like a macabre lipstick. Now he'd get that kiss. He dipped down, setting the knife to the side to keep it out the way when he captured Bucky's mouth in a fierce, possessive kiss. He dragged his hand through Bucky's hair, tugging a little to tip his head back even further. Biting at his bottom lip, Rumlow began to rock his hips, ass shifting over his lap teasingly.]

Want more?

[Rumlow asks, kissing him another time, fingers easing off in his hair.]

[His blood spread, smearing on Rumlow's thighs and against his own skin. It made him hot to see, to feel it sliding between their bodies, marking them both. It was, perhaps, a huge relief finally, pushing and scattering the emotions and thoughts that had previously lurked looking for an in to badger at him. Now he was entirely focused on Rumlow, on the feel of them moving together, and it was impossible to avoid growing aroused in response.

This was not a position that they normally took with each other either, at least not for long. The fact that Rumlow continued to perch on his lap and even grind that fine muscled ass down on him caused him to bite on his lower lip, working it to a bruise and then biting until he was bloody. Just in time for their kiss, which he threw himself into. The bite to his lip only caused the blood to flow a bit more freely, to increase the sting and reinforce how close they were.

His hands finally left the blankets to grip Rumlow's thick thighs, digging his fingers in to leave bruises.] You know the answer to that.

[He tipped his head back into those fingers in his hair, growling and thrusting up towards Rumlow's ass. Should he flip them or wait and see how long his lover allowed this unique and rather pleasing position?]

[Feeling the throb and twitch of Bucky's cock beneath him had Rumlow really considering the implication. It wasn't like he hadn't gotten fucked before -- it had just been a while. Not since he was alive, actually. But Hell. It wasn't like he didn't trust Bucky implicitly. Or even that he didn't like dick in his ass.

Their kiss broke apart just as Bucky's hips popped up, rubbing that thickening cock right between his cheeks. Rumlow ground back down, rolling his hips to give Bucky a little more friction to play with. He licked the fresh blood from his lips, humming his enjoyment. Peeking over at the blade, he flicked his tail out to swat it away so they wouldn't accidentally roll onto it.]

Take what's yours then.

[Rumlow answered simply, practically electric with anticipation. He felt committed -- and excited. Would Bucky take the offer? Rumlow was already pretty sure if he did, he wasn't going to be walking soon. Bucky was, in a word: enthusiastic.]

[His eyebrows hitched up his forehead at the seemingly sudden permission, and he felt his mouth go dry in response. Normally their foreplay was aggressive, a firm push and shove that would lead to all the wonderful experiences that they shared together. Even when he was the aggressor, tables would turn and he would perfectly satisfied with that. Now though, his pupils seemed to dilate completely and his gaze was intense on Rumlow as he rocked beneath his lover, waiting and testing for the rug to be pulled out from under him.

By then, he was licking his lips, clearing off the blood that stained them and shifting, which reminded him through their sting the cuts that Rumlow had placed on his chest and thighs. He shuddered and rolled them over so that he could pin Rumlow to the mattress, using the position to his advantage and drag his mouth down his lover's neck even as he reached around one of those muscled thighs to grab and grope Rumlow's ass. It was so perfect, always had been. He had imagined sinking into it more than once, but it had been a fantasy when he wanted to touch himself during a few hours of them being parted.]

You are mine. Are you certain about this?

[Like a gentleman asking consent explicitly. Of course, his right hand was reaching out for the night stand to jerk the drawer open in order to extract the tube of lubrication. His blood, still oozing from his wounds dripped down upon Rumlow's skin, and he moved his mouth to suck the ones from his chest injury.]

I'll make you see stars. You'll come apart with pleasure...

[Bucky always did like to wax poetic, Rumlow thought after being flipped onto his back. He shuddered at the tongue dragging over the little drops of blood that spattered onto his chest the way Bucky moved over him. Groaned at the grope to his ass, legs spreading to accommodate Bucky's body. He arched up, humming a note of pleasure as his stiffening cock rutted against him.

Tail swishing lazily beside them, Rumlow moved to put his hands on Bucky's waist, feeling the strength of his core and then his back as fingers scraped up, hitting the rougher skin of his scars where his wings would be. He wondered if he'd release them, let the wings surround them like a feathered cage. Rumlow huffed. Now he was getting poetic.]

I've always wanted you, Bucky. Never put on a limit on how.

[His hips shifted again, hands now coming down to cup either cheek of Bucky's ass, dragging him down to let the two of them rub together. He hissed at the sensation, staring up at Bucky with eyes dark.]

C'mon. Show me what you got, котенок.

[Despite everything, he was still half-tense, waiting for the moment when Rumlow would pull the rug out from under him and they would resume their usual positions together. It didn't stop his progress as he purposefully pressed a thigh inwards for Rumlow to rut on while he mouthed on his lover's bloody chest and paired that with getting lubrication on his fingers so that they could proceed forward for as long as he was allowed to. In the end, he would always hand over the sense of command to Rumlow when it was clear that was what his lover wanted.

He hissed at the rough fingers along his back, rolling his shoulder blades in that pleasurable assault. The skin bulged along the scars, pressing against Rumlow's fingers until they had passed by where they settled in his flesh again. The urge to release them was high, knowing that turnabout was fair play and doing so would offer himself up to the same kind of pleasure that he so often inflicted on Rumlow's horns.

He rubbed their groins together, humbling a sound of pleasure even as he pushed most of his weight to his left knee so that he could slip his lubricated hand between them. He wiped a strip right down the full crack of Rumlow's ass and then used his middle finger to probe at his lover's hole. He might have been a bit eager with how quickly he went from stroking to worming his finger inside, careful of discomfort even as he was biting Rumlow's pectoral.]

I hope you have the week off... I'm going to ensure you aren't walking straight for it.

[All the contact between them still wasn't enough to compare the feeling of a lube slicked finger sliding between his cheeks. He almost tensed, just a reflex, pushed himself to lean into it instead. Bucky wasn't patient, going from teasing to probing in seconds. He arched at the sharp pain to his chest, grabbing a fistful of Bucky's hair. Rather than drag him away, Rumlow held him in place, the blossoming sensation making his nipples stand rigid.

His cock too, thick and hard, rubbed against Bucky eagerly, even despite the penetration. It would find disappointment at not being buried in his ass, but Rumlow knew he'd find release in other ways. He huffed and grinned while he stroked through Bucky's hair, legs falling apart as his ass tried to relax around that finger.]

Good thing I can teleport then. [Rumlow chuckled, cutting himself off with a moan when Bucky's finger brushed against something sensitive.] 'Cause I'm gonna hold you to that.

[Rumlow stared up at the ceiling, mentally preparing himself. Getting fingered was familiar, though long enough ago that he had to force his body to relax. He breathed, focused on the pleasure, the pressure of Bucky's finger, moving, stretching. Imagining himself full -- God. His cock dripped against him, just to remember how it had felt. Bucky wouldn't go easy on him, even without the challenge, Rumlow was sure. But good. He wasn't fragile. He wanted it. Wanted bruises, marks. Whatever Bucky wanted to do, Rumlow was game.]

I'll have to give you a little extra it seems... to counteract the healing that comes with being in Hell.

[He relented in the bite in order to speak, peering up at Rumlow and enjoying the look that his lover had as his finger suck in and wormed to the third digit. He smoothed it around, circling Rumlow's hole before he carefully withdrew and thrust it back in, searching but also trying to fatigue the ring of muscle so it wasn't quite so tight. While he hadn't explicitly asked, he suspected that this would not be Rumlow's first time being taken by a man. It didn't bother him; the demon under him was clearly his after all.

He stroked and probed, forcing himself to take his time. There would be more than enough pain to come once he had his lover loosened up as he predicted himself to be larger still than the usual three fingers he would be bothered to give first. He waited, mouthing on the bite mark and his shoulders once again bulged before his flesh parted as if split with a sharp knife, his black feathered wings slipped free and stretching out across his shoulders. They fluttered and then folded against his shoulders, the parted flesh healing around them.

He lifted his mouth so that he could butt his nose against one of Rumlow's horns, nipping at the hard appendages one by one as he began to slip a second finger inside. He was far less impatient about it, breathing hard as if winded and his cock drooled against Rumlow's bloody thigh, his wounds still trickle lines of blood down his legs and chest.]

[The threat made Rumlow purr, his eagerness for a little abuse a little surprising. In the ring, sure, but this was a whole other category. He was ready for it. Even with the lube, the stretch burned a little, making Rumlow arch and hiss. He breathed, relaxed and it eased, still giving Rumlow's cheeks a flush as his head fell back against the sheets.

He heard rather than saw his wings erupting at first, until the black feathers crept into his peripheral. Glancing down, Rumlow felt another heavy shudder roll through his body, toes curling into the duvet. He saw as Bucky moved forward, watching until he felt the pressure of teeth against the hard keratin of his horn. Unsurprisingly, he moaned, an electric jolt curling around his spine. Made it so much easier for Bucky to push another finger inside, Rumlow's body accommodating it happily in the wake of such stimulation.]

Fuck...

[He whispered, shivering and twitching as his weakness was exploited. He still didn't think it was fair, but damn it felt amazing. He groaned Bucky's name and swept his hands up his back, catching in the soft down of his wings.]

[His eyes fluttered closed at the sound of Rumlow's moan, like sweet music to his ears. He worked his fingers deeper in response even as he turned his cheek and rubbed the roughness of his stubble against the hard horn to keep the relaxation as long as possible. He thrust his slick fingers slow and easy, rumbling a sound in his chest as he had to shift a bit more so that he could rut against Rumlow's thigh to keep from just rushing matters.

He wanted his lover limping not broken. Rumlow had always been patient with him, and it was time to return that favour for this opportunity.

Yet, the sweep of fingers against his fingers set the black plume puffing up as his one wing shuddered and tried to tuck closer to his shoulder as pleasure circulated the appendage. He let out a soft 'ah' against Rumlow's forehead, responding by gently but thoroughly scissoring his fingers between stroking the sweet spot inside of his lover.]

My handsome Котенок. Don't forget to show me you have claws...

'S hard to when you're drivin' me crazy like this...

[Rumlow murmured, laughing softly. The rub of Bucky's face against the horn was a little less acute, but still overpowering enough that he knew he could hardly fight back. Not that he even had the slightest intention to. He groaned loudly as Bucky's fingers kept stretching him out, his own burying in his wings, not about to let their shifting stop him from getting what he wanted. Two could play at that game, after all.

But then, an arch of pleasure shot through him -- Bucky's fingers having found their target. He twitched, body going rigid for a moment before he felt himself sinking into the mattress, moaning in the aftermath. He blinked his eyes open, tipping his head to nudge Bucky's face back to look at him. As if they didn't share enough pleasure between them. He lifted his head to steal a kiss, shoving his ass back against Bucky's hand in a silent demand for more.

He could be pushy too.]

Christ, can't believe you're makin' me impatient to get fucked...

[Rumlow laughed again, hands sweeping across Bucky's wings and giving him a mischievous smirk in response.]

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