Son of a Witch

Damn but he loved doing this; no fantasy could compare to making Billy come undone. It felt like a dream, save for the hardness of the floor under his knees and the chill still clinging to both their skin. Those small discomforts didn't matter; they only underlined how real everything was.

Bucky petted Billy's hip clumsily, acknowledgment of the half a warning; the other half came from the desperation in his movements and how he started to lose control. Bucky wanted more: more of Billy letting go, more of the loosening of his own control. After another caught breath he swallowed Billy down again, working furiously to try to tip him over the edge.