Bucky Clone-ish

A snippet at the lodge.

One afternoon, after a lazy morning swimming in the mountain lake, they were relaxing back at the lodge. The cook had prepared a lovely late lunch for them, the remains of which were still strewn over the dining room table. They’d tidy that up later, or, better yet, leave it for housekeeping.

Now sated and sleepy, they were drowsing in the downstairs living room. They had nothing to do and nowhere to go. Time was pleasantly leaden. It was warm and they hadn’t bothered to dress, just opting for a sarong or a towel. They were really becoming quite bohemian. 

The ‘Cats were curled up contentedly around each other in a pool of sunshine by the patio windows.

Zemo was reading, lying full length on the wide couch in front of the fireplace, Bucky spooned up behind him.

Bucky was feeling very peaceful. These last few months with Zemo, Muzzy and Jamie had been blissful for him. He had never felt so loved and secure. 

He could hear the small sounds of wildlife outside, birds twittering and the soft susurrus of the trees. The ‘Cats were making sleepy snuffly noises off to his left. His Baron was warm against his stomach and thighs. 

He moved his cheek gently across Zemo’s shoulder, running his fingertips lightly up his thighs, over the soft curve of his hip, along his side and up to his shoulder blade. Then back down again. Languid. Unhurried. He pressed his lips lightly into the Baron’s skin.

“Have I ever told you how much I like your freckles?” he murmured against Zemo’s back, his fingers finding little patterns in the constellations on Zemo’s skin.

“Not nearly enough,” Zemo whispered in his husky accented voice. “Tell me again.”

He closed his book and moved it on to the little side table, stretching against Bucky to do so.

Bucky felt his cock filling out.

Zemo felt it too, and pushed back against him, smirking wickedly.

“You are pure temptation,” Zemo whispered, turning his upper body to kiss his cheek. 

Bucky looked up from his contemplation of Zemo’s freckles and smiled infectiously, his eyes dark. He kissed Zemo back, moving his hand down to slip under the fabric of Zemo’s surprisingly colourful and tasseled sarong.

Zemo moved his hand up to cradle Bucky’s cheek and opened his mouth to him, slipping his tongue into Bucky’s mouth.

Bucky’s cock twitched, and he put his hand on Zemo’s hip to pull their bodies closer together.

He pulled away from the kiss to bunch up Zemo’s sarong, and move his hand over Zemo’s bum, his fingers sliding between his cheeks. 

Zemo angled himself towards him. 

“James,” he murmured.

“Mmmm?” Bucky was distracted. The pad of his middle finger found Zemo’s hole and started to make little circles around it, started to gently invade.

Zemo pushed against him, and Bucky pressed inside, noting with satisfaction Zemo’s little moan of appreciation as he did so. 

Slowly, he massaged that little ring of muscle, opening it up, stretching it out.

Zemo hummed, and moved against him.

“Faster, darling. I need you inside me.” 

“Patience,” smiled Bucky. “You’re not a ‘Cat. You need preparing.”

“Would you prefer that I were?”

“A ‘Cat? No. Why?” Gently stroking in.

“Always slick and ready. Always eager.”

“You’re always eager, Hel.” Bucky grinned, moving in a second digit. “But no. I wouldn’t have you any other way. Sometimes you just need to be patient. I’d think you’d be master at that.” His voice was slow and drawling, in time to his fingers moving deeper.

“I fear I am not as patient as I would like to be, where you are involved,” said Zemo, his breath hitching. “I am also not made of glass.” He gyrated against Bucky’s fingers. “I want you.”

“Say that again,” said Bucky, three fingers in, pressing into Zemo’s silky walls, moulding his body to him, inserting a leg between Zemo’s thighs.

“My beloved. I want you. I need you.”

Bucky grinned. “But I want to take my time.” And he moved his fingers slowly inside Zemo. Slowly pushing against him, stroking along that sensitive inner place, pressing into his prostate. He wondered how long it would take to make him cum.

Zemo groaned and pushed back, his cock thickening, his balls tightening.

“You get… aaah… to have… nng… whatever… you want.”

Bucky laughed silently. God, he loved this man. He loved taking him to the brink, and then watching him unravel. He moved faster, stroking into him.

And Zemo was pushing back against him, bracing himself on the couch, his breath ragged, his skin flushed. 

And then, “Aaaaah, my James, my One,” and Zemo spilled himself all over the inside of his beautiful sarong.

Bucky kept his fingers in him. Zemo calmed a little, and then clenched around him. Little tendrils of hair were plastered to his neck and forehead. His cheeks were flush, his beautiful moles standing out.

“Now, will you fuck me?” he whispered, already under control.

“Ready to comply,” Bucky answered, the words coming easily to mind, but having no bitter overtones. Bucky felt something open in his mind and be set free. He felt lighter. 

Zemo shivered. “What?”

“It’s OK,” Bucky whispered to his back. “It’s actually really OK.”

“My love?” questioned Zemo.

“You’d better believe it,” murmured Bucky. He removed his fingers, and opened up his sarong, reaching for his cock.

“Wait…” said Zemo.

“No need,” answered Bucky. “Don’t question it. It’s all good, it’s actually all really good.”

“Then carry on, Soldat.” Zemo smirked.

“You cheeky bastard,” said Bucky, slapping him lightly on the rump.

“I obviously need putting in my place,” grinned Zemo, wiggling his arse.

“Hell, yes,” said Bucky. And he grabbed his dick, moved the head against Zemo’s sphincter and slipped it easily into his ready and waiting hole. 

“Aaaah, yes,” moaned Zemo. “Finally.”

“You’re so needy,” said Bucky, sliding his length into him.

“Only for you,” whispered Zemo.

Later, spooned up together, Zemo asked “Do we need to talk about what just happened?”

“I don’t think so,” murmured Bucky.

“You are sure that everything is OK?”

Bucky nodded. “Better than OK, I think.” He paused, hugged Zemo to him. “I felt nothing.”

“Even when I used that word?”

“Soldat?”

“Yes.”

“I think so, Doll. I really think so.”  He paused again. “Say the words to me.”

“The… words… The activation words?”

“Yep.”

“But we know they no longer function.”

“I know. But I always felt something. You know what I mean?”

Zemo turned in his arms to face him. “I think I do, my darling. But I will recite them again for you, if you require it of me.”

“Please. I’m ready.”

Zemo searched his face. Bucky was calm. Unbothered.

“Желание, Ржавый, Семнадцать, Рассвет, Печь, Девять, ” Zemo watched him carefully. Bucky gave an encouraging half smile.

“Добросердечный, Возвращение на Родину, Один, Товарный вагон.” finished Zemo, and on the last word Bucky jerked, his eyes stilled and became motionless.

“James?” Zemo said, bringing a hand up to his shoulder.

A long second passed. Too long. Zemo was just about to speak again, when Bucky burst out laughing.

“Joke, babe, joke. I just couldn’t hold a straight face any longer!”

Zemo gasped, and mock hit him. “Don’t joke about that, please, my love. It is not funny.”

Bucky grinned and captured his hand, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss the knuckles.

“I joke to prove my freedom. And the fact that, today, when I said that phrase, and when you just said those words, I actually felt nothing connected to them. They were just words.”

He kissed Zemo’s knuckles again, looking up at him owlishly. His big blue eyes so wide and clear, that Zemo couldn’t help but smile back.

“Nothing, you say?”

Bucky nodded around Zemo’s fingers.

“Ah, now, are you sure? Because you are kissing me, and that is exactly what I wanted you to do.”

Bucky grinned, and licked up the back of Zemo’s hand. “Ask me to do something else, then.”

Without hesitation, Zemo said “Slap me.”

Bucky shook his head, exasperated. “Typical.” A pause. Bucky looked him straight in the eye. “No.”

Zemo smirked, and tilted his head. “Say that again.”

“No.”

“Hah!”

“God, you’re an idiot!” He kissed him. “A beautiful idiot!”

***