wearingthestars | For Sinistral

Bucky's hold tightened on Billy after feeling that shiver. It couldn't be comfortable, being held for so long and Bucky's arm a huge heatsink. But the cabin wasn't far; Bucky could see it through the snow, less than a mile.

"Few more minutes. Can see it, but don't look up, you'll only get snow in your face." True to its promise the storm had arrived with all its glory, wind and snow and cold. Bucky would be glad to get out of it. "Head down, deep breaths. I'm gonna jog us there, it's gonna get bumpy for you."

The sooner he got Billy indoors and got the fire started for both of them, the better. Even he could feel the weather's chill settling in deep. Fortunately the terrain between their current position and the cabin didn't contain any weird hazards; Bucky navigated it easily and soon ushered Billy inside to lock the door behind them.

The cabin itself was small but clean: most of the space went to the main room, with a pair of plain armchairs and a platform bed. A stone fireplace took up most of one wall. The opposite side of the cabin held a small bathroom and a kitchenette, neither fancy but adequate enough. A table folded against the wall, with two simple wooden chairs pushed against it. Heavy curtains covered the windows — heavier than usual, blackout material that not only provided insulation, but blocked most of the light seepage in or out.

Bucky immediately crossed to the fireplace; he'd stacked wood and kindling inside before he left, so all he'd need to do was light it. "Did your clothes get wet?"

It felt almost strange to be back on his own two feet, and Billy laughed a little as he shook off some of the snow that had built up during the jog, the ends of his hair curling. Bucky had protected him from the worst of it, but he was definitely damp. He shrugged off Bucky's jacket and his cloak, both weighed down with melted snow, and nodded as he looked himself over.

"A bit," he confirmed. One side of him at least

The fire caught successfully, and Bucky blew gently on the flame to spread it to the paper he'd stuffed among the kindling. Soon enough the kindling caught too, and started to spread to the more solid logs.

"We'll have to get you out of them," he replied, the colored a little as he realized how that sounded. Clearly having Billy in his arms for so long made too much of an impression! "I mean. The shower isn't the worst, and I grabbed some clothes for you."

Billy flushed too and nodded. It was totally for practical reasons. Only... he glanced down at his suit with a frown. He usually magicked it on and off. It didn't really have a way to pull off naturally. No zippers, no fasteners, and too tight to wriggle out of.

"Do...you have a knife or something?" he asked, trying very hard not to think how this could play out under fantasy settings.

"Of course I have— oh." The implications of why Billy asked for a knife caught up to him as Bucky glanced up, unable to hide the once over he gave Billy's outfit. He admired that outfit on the regular, with the way it hugged Billy's body, but he'd never really noticed the lack of fasteners.

His expression softened and he straightened up from his crouch by the fire. Billy had been through enough today; he could offer his help in a purely platonic way. "I can do you one better. You trust me?"

That once over make Billy's cheek burn, but still, he nodded without hesitation at that question.
"Of course I do," he answered easily. He trusted Bucky with his life.

His head did tilt a little, not sure what it was Bucky was offering, but trusting 100% regardless as he tried to scrub the blush from his cheeks with the side of his palm.

Bucky determinedly ignored that blush and how he wanted to see how far down it went. Did it stain Billy chest as well? Bring heat to Billy's skin? Not questions he should ask.

He pulled a knife from the sheath at his hip, flipping the handle around his fingertips out of habit before stepping behind his companion. This would be a lot easier to offer if they didn't have to look at each other. "Just guide where you want me to cut." He was steady enough to avoid marring Billy's skin.

Oh.

Billy swallowed thickly, wetting his lips and hating how he could hear his breath shudder once he managed to get it out. This was possibly the hottest thing that had ever happened. He furiously tried to calm himself down. It was platonic. Purely platonic.

"The um- along the back here," Billy managed reaching back to gesture, glad he didn't have to look at Bucky as he said it because he could feel how hot his face was, "...where a zipper would be,:

"Look, I've seen zippers in some really weird places," he joked. "Besides, could probably cut around the waist too, try to make shirt and pants." He paused, considering. "Or not, I think you're right in getting it off from the back."

Mostly because Bucky didn't trust himself if he had to actually face Billy right now.

He put a hand on Billy's hip to steady himself more than anything else; being this close was torture. "Let me know when you're ready."

He laughed softly, ducking his head and pressing his lips together. Billy drew in a slow breath to calm himself after feeling that steady weight at his hip, imagination conjuring up all sort of filthy ideas.

"...I'm ready."

How did Billy keep hitting all of Bucky's buttons? That soft laugh, the shyness in his posture, he wanted it all. He couldn't resist squeezing Billy's hip fondly, before that hand joined the other at the nape of his neck.

"Just relax," he murmured, "I got you." Billy would feel the kiss of steel against skin, but that's all it was: no cuts, no blood, just fabric parting for the keen edge of the blade as Bucky slowly started to make his way from neck to mid back.

God. God. God.

Billy cursed mentally, breath catching as a shiver ran through him, the hair at the back of his neck standing on end. He wanted to lean back into that touch, to feel those hands over every inch of him...

"Bucky-" It escaped his lips before he was even aware, and he bit down on his lower lip to silence himself.

"Billy—" he answered naturally, as if this was something they did, something they were. Hands paused midway down Billy's back, Bucky forcibly telling himself to still — especially with a blade so close to Billy's skin. He looked at his companion, finally really looked: flushed skin, teeth in his own lip, the way he shivered. The heat coming off of him, even after being outside. Bucky would bet that his eyes were blown wide as well.

When had this become anything more than Bucky's most secret dream?

"Don't—" he started, tongue darting out to wet suddenly dry lips. "Don't stop. Let me hear you." Let him hear Billy sigh as Bucky glided a knife between skin and fabric. Let him hear as Bucky shifted closer, not wanting to miss a single thing.

Edited 2022-03-28 15:57 (UTC)

His breath hiccupped, and Billy couldn't help himself, glancing back as though he needed to be sure Bucky had really said those words. His eyes were indeed blown out, lips parted and breath quick, and he gave a shy smile before looking away again.

"Bucky, I-" he tried, words faltering, unsure how to confess his feelings and feeling stupid for his shyness considering the state they were in.

"...you're beautiful," he finished when Billy trailed off, hands falling away from his back to grip his hips again. He used the grip to pull Billy closer until there was no space between them, until Bucky's front pressed against Billy's back.

"I've always thought you were beautiful," he murmured, because saying it any louder didn't feel right. "But right now, seeing you like this, I can't look away. I don't want to look away."

"...this is real, right? This isn't some Doom trick?" Billy murmured in turn, feeling the solid and sure mass of Bucky behind him and looking up and back over his shoulder to be sure.

"I thought you wouldn't feel the same-"

"It's real," he replied, leaning his forehead against Billy's temple when he turned. "I promise it's real." So real and so much an actual reality right now that he could hardly believe it. So real that he needed Billy to know it.

He raised a hand to Billy's cheek, holding him right there so Bucky could kiss him. Slow and unhurried, but with a little nip right at the end — like the kiss of the knife, a threat of something dangerous. The adrenalin of their escape still ran through him and being this close to Billy, literally cutting him out of his clothes, made Bucky's blood sing for more. "You tell me: does that feel real?"

Edited (honestly I just wanted to write kissing details lol) 2022-04-03 13:02 (UTC)

Billy smiled, looking into Bucky's eyes with an intimacy he'd never felt between them, and he felt his breath fall away as suddenly those lips were on him.

He'd imagined this hundreds of times, but nothing could compare to the reality of it. There was a moment of hesitation on Billy's end- unsure- before he responded, a soft sound on his lips as the kiss was over far too soon for his liking.

"...very real-" he replied numbly, bashful and grinning like an idiot. "Can we do that again?"

He very nearly stopped with that hesitation; something like relief washed over him when Billy started to respond to the kiss. He'd worried that he'd read it wrong, but as long as Billy seemed to want this, Bucky had no problems giving it to him.

Instead of replying Bucky complied, capturing Billy's lips for another kiss — harsher this time, with more hunger. He wanted so much; part of him still didn't believe that he could actually have this with Billy. That part had his grip tightening, pulling Billy closer and probably bent a little awkwardly so that Bucky could all but devour his mouth. He couldn't put into words how much he wanted, but maybe Billy would taste it in the press of lips and play of tongues.

"I want you," he breathed when they finally broke apart. "Don't ever doubt how much I want you."

"Mm-" Billy whined into the kiss, more than happy to surrender to Bucky, responding just as eagerly. He bent only as much as Bucky pulled him, knowing there was still a knife in play somewhere, but wholly trusting Bucky not to place him in danger.

He was all but panting by the time they broke apart, a breathless laugh on his lips. "...Wow. That was- ...wow."

No danger here. The thrill of it maybe, if Billy was agreeable, but nothing that would actually harm him, especially without his magic at his disposal. Bucky took as much as Billy surrendered, nipping at his lips, exploring every inch of his mouth with his tongue.

Eventually he let Billy stand up straight again, pulling him close enough for his ass to be snug against Bucky's pelvis. He hooked his chin over Billy's shoulder, looking down the line of his body while teasing the fabric over Billy's hip bones with the point of his knife.

"Do you have any idea what it does to me, seeing you like this? Knowing that you trust me to touch you like this?"

Billy breathed heavily, wetting his lips as he watched the knife toy over him. He swallowed thickly, still surprised by how much it seemed to affect him, and he breathed a small laugh, "I might have a bit of an idea," he answered cheekily, "Fuck-"

There was so much they should be concerning themselves with, but how was Billy supposed to think of anything else right now? They had a sizable head start. The storm was hiding them. Why shouldn't they enjoy themselves for a bit?

"I'd trust you with anything, Bucky," Billy swore.

Well if Doom did manage to track them down he'd have to be damn stupid to interrupt them like this.

But Doom was far from Bucky's mind, too focused on Billy right now. He turned just enough to kiss Billy's cheek, then angled the tip of the knife into the fabric. It took concentration to catch the threads without cutting skin but Billy would no doubt feel how aroused it made Bucky. Inch by inch he worked from one hip to the other; inch by inch a sliver of skin was revealed where fabric parted.

"I want to peel you out of this," he murmured. "Then I want to put my mouth all over you. Every inch, I want to taste you."

Billy hardly dared to breath, watching intently, closing his eyes to breath out a shuddering sigh at Bucky's words and pressing his lips together tightly.

"Fuck, do you have any idea how hot that is? Where do you learn to talk like that?" He was sure he couldn't possibly match that sure and confident tone, let alone find the words.

"Just bein' honest," he murmured, nipping at Billy's earlobe to punctuate the sentence. "I mean, look at you." Bucky held the knife flat against the strip of skin he'd bared, dark metal against pale skin. "Just fuck, you know what I can do with this and you're lettin' me close anyway. How can I not want you?"

Of course, it wasn't just about the knife. Or the night. Bucky's want for Billy wasn't new at all, for all that he'd never acted on it before now. But holding Billy during their escape from the fortress, then later in their flight through the woods, and helping him out of his clothes now, wore Bucky's resistance down to the point of nonexistence. Billy's little sighs, the way he leaned into Bucky, the trust; he couldn't hold back. "Want so much with you."

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