Son of a Witch

Bucky blinked and suddenly Billy was right there, kneeling in front of him. Then he was even more there, pressing close and Bucky eagerly leaned into those caresses, each and every kiss. He was sloppy with it, drunk on the lust coursing through his veins, the shock of pleasure from Billy's fingers curling around him. The lingering chill in the cabin didn't matter, the hard floor under his knees didn't matter. What mattered was the desire Billy had awakened in him, how he wanted to bring to life his promise to keep going all night.

"Billy—" he panted against the next kiss, the end of the word falling into a whine. "So good— your hand..."A quick learner of speed and pressure, seemingly, figuring out how Bucky liked it. It wouldn't take much more at all for him to spill over both of them.