Bucky's expression collapses in grief, in guilt, underscored by the building arousal nearing a peak. He doesn't drop his head but he does close his eyes, breathes in the scent of the home waters he has avoided for six years now.
He remembers playing human, wandering the markets with his mother. The old people always knew; his eyes gave him away. The children his age didn't question his presence. There were feasts and festivals.
That year had been his first, to go alone as a young man.
Sam's body feels safe and warm and whole in a way Bucky has not felt in nearly a decade. The scent of his slick calms Bucky's rage and sadness, though they still exist, waves churning in his blood, under the surface. People died so he could be captured and kept like a pet? People he knew and cared for?
He can't drown the boat at the moment but the desire is there. Breathing in tandem with him.
"I will court you. On the shores of islands like your home. It will be done the old way. But I wish to keep you. To make you my mate." He nods a little. "Do you wish this? Do I have your permission?"
no subject
He remembers playing human, wandering the markets with his mother. The old people always knew; his eyes gave him away. The children his age didn't question his presence. There were feasts and festivals.
That year had been his first, to go alone as a young man.
Sam's body feels safe and warm and whole in a way Bucky has not felt in nearly a decade. The scent of his slick calms Bucky's rage and sadness, though they still exist, waves churning in his blood, under the surface. People died so he could be captured and kept like a pet? People he knew and cared for?
He can't drown the boat at the moment but the desire is there. Breathing in tandem with him.
"I will court you. On the shores of islands like your home. It will be done the old way. But I wish to keep you. To make you my mate." He nods a little. "Do you wish this? Do I have your permission?"