Going Cold
“Damn it, I had to go to the store,” you say, looking out your window to see nothing but swirling whiteness. You run your hand through your hair and sigh, falling back onto the sofa.
“For what?”
You look over to Bucky, smiling upon seeing him like you always did. You thought it was cheesy but you couldn’t help it. He was–as incredibly cheesy as this was, as well–the light of your life.
“Oh, nothing too important. Oatmeal, cinnamon, stuff like that. I was going to bake today. But I guess not.” You ran your hand through his newly-cut hair, short like you’d seen in the pictures of him back in 1945. He leaned against your touch like a cat would and you giggled.
“Is this another sign?”
“Of what?”
“Of you wanting a cat,” you said very matter-of-factly.
“No, I just love you, and love being around you, and being touched by you.” He gently took hold of your hand, which had previously been resting on his cheek, and moved it in front of his mouth, kissing your knuckles. You blushed and pulled your hand back to your mouth, kissing it where he did and keeping eye contact. He smiled and leant in, kissing you. His lips were soft and tasted like coffee.
The kiss was short and when it ended you smiled, looked outside and back to him, then suggested, “Movie marathon?”
Halfway through the second Lord of the Rings film, just as Merry and Pippin found the Ents, an idea popped into your head. You didn’t want to unwrap yourself from Bucky’s arms, but you were about to fall off the couch anyway. Nudging him with your shoulder gently, he let go of you and you got up, pressing a kiss to his forehead and assuring him that you’d be right back.
Ten minutes later, you came back with two warm mugs of hot chocolate. Bucky’s face broke into a grin as you handed him one and sat down next to him. He took a sip and looked over at you, saying, “This is the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had. Have I told you that I love you?”
“You told me like fifteen minutes ago, Bucky, I know. And for the record, I love you too,” you said, setting your mug down on the coffee table and kissing him. He kissed you back, and moved to put his mug on the table too as he pulled you closer to him. Bucky’s lips tasted less coffeelike and more chocolatey and popcorny than the last time you kissed him, but they were just as soft. You could hear orcs yelling in the background as you lost yourself in his touch. The fairy lights strung around your apartment made everything about the day warmer, and the room even smelled warm. Bucky’s hands clutched your waist tightly and you swung your leg over him, straddling his lap. What was at first an innocent kiss had evolved, the kiss had gotten hungrier, more passionate.
He swept his tongue along your bottom lip, and you let him in, your breath becoming his, your tongue pressing against his. He bit your lip gently and you couldn’t stop a quiet moan from escaping. Your hands moved from their station in his hair to down over his shoulders to down his chest to the hem of his shirt. Slipping your hands under hem of the grey t-shirt, you hoped that he understood your implication. You felt him nod slightly and you pulled the shirt over his head, thinking that you’d only break the kiss for a second. Apparently you were wrong, however, when he pulled your shirt over your head and throwing it across the room.
You decided not to place your lips on his mouth when they returned to him, however, so they found a place on his neck. You kissed and bit and sucked on his neck, unconsciously grinding on him. The only things that were keeping you from him were two pairs of sweatpants and two pairs of underwear.
You heard a muffled groan from him; felt his throat vibrate with a moan when you realised that you were grinding on him. You made note of this whilst sucking a love bite onto his neck and made a more obvious show of being a tease, untangling one of your hands from his hair to rub him through his pants. You finally moved back up to his lips, kissing him long, hard and messily before working his sweatpants over his hips.
After both of your pants had been discarded, and you were both just in your underwear, and you in your bra, which he reached up to unclip, but you stopped his hands, placing them on your shoulders instead and unclipping in yourself and flinging it off to god-knows-where along with the rest of your clothes. He attempted to slide his hands down from your shoulders but you grabbed his wrists, shutting him down with a smirk and a simple “Wait.”
You’d never topped before, so you had no idea what to do from here, how to get your underwear off smoothly or sexily. There wasn’t really a way in this situation, was there? You swung your leg over him and stood up briefly to de-panties yourself and watched him do the same to himself.
You climbed back on and lowered yourself onto him, earning a long, low groan from Bucky along with a “Finally,” and you exhaled hard as you started riding him. His left hand came up to rub your clit slowly as you approached climax, and you elicited a high involuntary whine. You were about to tell him that you were about to come when he stole the words out of your mouth, but not in the right language. You came, hunching over and burying your face in his the crook of his neck, and he hit his peak soon after, moaning slurred Russian as he did.
You were sweaty messes, heaped up on the sofa. You made note of telling him that his arm needed a cooling system, because it was incredibly hot in the room, which made him laugh. he made note of mentioning getting a little fan in his palm like Stark, which made you laugh.
After you gathered all of your clothing again, save for the shirts which you absolutely could not find, you cuddled up again on the sofa and finished The Two Towers. Before you played The Return of the King, however, Bucky brought attention to the hot chocolate mugs, which couldn’t be considered more than chocolate milk at this point.
“Must’ve gone cold whilst we were getting hot,” you said.
“Must have,” he said, smiling at you.