His breath hitches as cool metal ghosts over his entrance, then probes. And if he was getting somewhat aroused before, just on the basis of the kiss and the intent and tr he knowledge of what was to come, this is what gets him going. Sam looks a little embarrassed by it, by how the sensation of cool metal feeling his rim makes him get wet.
He puts his hands on Bucky's shoulders for balance, keeps his thighs open over the man's lap and grinds against his erection.
"There was a time I dreamed of this" he admits, panting with rising pleasure. "I was quite taken with you after seeing you at a tournament. Perhaps it will please you to know...," he pushes himself down a little, wet hole welcoming a metal knuckle inside greedily, "that I spent that tournament fantasizing you'd win my hand once i was of age." Sam chuckles. He's grown out of such fancies of course, and there is no tournament in which a prince can be won by anyone, much less a commoner, no matter that he is a decorated war veteran. Still. Bucky was his first crush, and when Sam experienced his first heat, he might have thought of blue eyes and stubble between his thighs. He grew out of those fancies, knowing he would marry not for love or passion. The irony isn't lost on him now that after all that he ends up desperately giving his first time to the very man he fancied himself mating with just on account of how striking he was at that tournament.
Childish fancies aren't supposed to turn into adult bad ideas.
Sam kisses Bucky's cheek, his brow. Benediction. Forgiveness for any discomfort Sam understands will be part of this no matter how careful Bucky is. "Tell me how to make this good for you, please."
And that request is sad, because Sam is asking for guidance for this fast and desperate tryst, yes, but he knows what he learns here tonight will be what he takes into his marital bed in a few months.
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Date: 2022-12-26 10:28 pm (UTC)He puts his hands on Bucky's shoulders for balance, keeps his thighs open over the man's lap and grinds against his erection.
"There was a time I dreamed of this" he admits, panting with rising pleasure. "I was quite taken with you after seeing you at a tournament. Perhaps it will please you to know...," he pushes himself down a little, wet hole welcoming a metal knuckle inside greedily, "that I spent that tournament fantasizing you'd win my hand once i was of age." Sam chuckles. He's grown out of such fancies of course, and there is no tournament in which a prince can be won by anyone, much less a commoner, no matter that he is a decorated war veteran. Still. Bucky was his first crush, and when Sam experienced his first heat, he might have thought of blue eyes and stubble between his thighs. He grew out of those fancies, knowing he would marry not for love or passion. The irony isn't lost on him now that after all that he ends up desperately giving his first time to the very man he fancied himself mating with just on account of how striking he was at that tournament.
Childish fancies aren't supposed to turn into adult bad ideas.
Sam kisses Bucky's cheek, his brow. Benediction. Forgiveness for any discomfort Sam understands will be part of this no matter how careful Bucky is. "Tell me how to make this good for you, please."
And that request is sad, because Sam is asking for guidance for this fast and desperate tryst, yes, but he knows what he learns here tonight will be what he takes into his marital bed in a few months.