[In fact, Steve sticking his tongue down Sam's throat is an excellent way to make Sam forget virtually everything short of his own name. So is that particular tone of voice - the one that sends chills down Sam's spine, the one he wants whispering filthy things in his ears - and a well-muscled thigh in between his legs and...well, basically, all he wants to do is lose himself in Steve. With everything going on in his life (and the one person he really wants to fuck jaunting off across time and space), he hasn't been able to relax, to stop being on all the time. But if there's one person who knows what that's like, it's Steve Rogers.
Sam ruts shamelessly against Steve's thigh and a noise that's almost like a whimper is trapped in his throat. It's hard to find purchase in the suit, in the layers of fabric between them. His biggest complaint about uniforms - nearly all of them - is that they're too damn complicated to get out of when you really want to, and this is one that he can't risk damaging. His fingers fumble between them; he's not used to this suit yet, can't find his way out blindly.]
I almost want you to keep it on. [ Steve breaks the kiss to breathe the words against Sam's reddening lips, and then he's dragging Sam back into another one, somehow even more desperate and filthy than the last. An image materializes in his mind: Steve on his knees right here in the hall and Sam still in the suit save for his cock shoved down Steve's throat. But as appealing as that sounds, the key word he said was almost, because as sexy as Sam looks in the suit, nothing can compare to Sam naked. So it's only with a minor hint of regret that Steve begins helping Sam, feeling around blinding for a zipper, a clasp, anything. He grinds his hips helplessly against Sam and it's all he can do not to start tearing at the stitching. But Steve Rogers is nothing if not strategic, and after enough frantic searching, he finds the patience and will to trace his fingers along a zipper until he can locate and tug at its pull. ]
Oh, so that's how it is? [Sam teases in a voice that's already rougher and deeper than usual.] You're just here to get your regularly scheduled dose of superhero fucking?
[Though actually, Sam kinda misses the suit Steve had modified when they were on the run, as ridiculous as it sounds (less ridiculous considering he's absolutely fucked Steve in it before). Black is a good color for him - granted, when you're built like Steve Rogers, colors don't matter all that much.]
Hold on- if you rip something, there's no way I'm gonna be able to explain to Shuri why I need it fixed.
[The suit might not be as fancy as T'Challa's, but he can't just take it to the dry cleaner's, either. Sam finally gets his fingers on the hidden controls in the chestpiece, and the front splits open neatly. The white undershirt underneath is soaked through with sweat, and Sam silently blesses Wakandan technology for keeping him from smelling completely off-putting.
The bottom comes free from the top, too, and Sam engages in some strategic wriggling against Steve as he pulls the pants down as far as he can.]
Regularly scheduled? This is long overdue. [ Steve tries to keep a hint of lament out of his voice— he'll apologize for being away later (probably more than once) but presently it would kill the mood and he is feeling very one-track minded. ]
Okay, okay, [ Steve all but whines breathlessly. Watching Sam struggle with the controls of his suit is both sympathetic and frustrating. Steve is glad he had the foresight to stow his nano-suit away before Sam arrived, because he wouldn't trust himself to operate the watch in present condition. The clothes he had on underneath are simple: a navy t-shirt and jeans. In the end, Steve does rip the seam of his own pants in his haste to get them off, but fortunately denim is much more replaceable.
The t-shirt is similarly quick to go, and then Steve is dropping to his knees, ostensibly to help Sam finish pulling his pants down all the way. But if while he's down there, he takes the opportunity to mouth hotly against the outline of Sam in his underwear, well, he could hardly have been expected to resist. ]
[Sam's voice pitches and cracks on the last word as Steve mouths his erection, and yeah, it's definitely overdue - not that he wouldn't be reacting the same way if Steve had just sucked him off last night, because it's Steve, of course he would, but he also really fucking needs this. His fingers scrabble against the wall, and then he just gives up entirely and runs a hand into Steve's hair. Whatever, he'll keep the damn boots on.]
You gonna keep teasing me, or are you gonna take what you want?
[ Steve leans his head into Sam's touch shamelessly, urging him on. He barely needs any encouragement himself, but it doesn't hurt. He almost would like to tease Sam a little more, if only this wasn't so overdue, and they both weren't so very keyed up.
But they are, or at least, Steve most certainly is, and he wastes no time dragging Sam's underpants down to expose his stunning cock. It's a work of art, if you ask Steve, but he'd say that about all of Sam. Chiseled marble doesn't come close.
The way Steve sees it, Sam issued a dare, and he's never backed down from one of those. He wraps a hand around the base of Sam's dick and starts kissing and licking a filthy path up the length of him. When he reaches the head, he takes it in between his lips, teases it a little with his tongue, and then he backs off.
He looks up at Sam through heavy eyelashes. ] How's that for taking what I want?
[The intensity of Steve's gaze makes Sam shiver. Steve applies that laser focus to everything he does, but it's different when he's looking at Sam - and when he's on his knees and looking up at Sam, it's practically enough to make him come. Doesn't hurt that his eyes are fucking gorgeous, either, especially when his irises are the barest ring of dark blue around even darker pupils.
Sam's phone chimes from somewhere in the pile of clothes, and he huffs and uses one foot to toe the cloth away. He doesn't care if it's the damn apocalypse, he's busy right now.
[ Steve keeps one hand on Sam and wraps his mouth around the head of Sam's cock. At the same time, his free hand reaches around in Sam's clothes until he feels the phone. A sideways glance at the screen reveals Bucky as the caller, and Steve raises his arm to hand Sam his phone while taking more of him in his mouth. By the time Sam gets with the program and answers his call, Steve plans to have taken so much of him in that his eyes start to water from the effort of keeping his throat relaxed and open. If Sam is going to complain about teasing, Steve will give him something worth complaining about. ]
[Oh no. Ohhhhhhh no. It takes a lot to embarrass Sam, but this just might do it. Sam considers chucking his phone all the way across the room. In the end, though, he hits the button to answer.]
Oh, you're callin' me now? Seems like you weren't even answering my texts a week ago.
[Sam twists the fingers of his free hand in Steve's hair. Hopefully that'll ground him enough to make it through this call.]
Listen, unless something's literally on fire or your cat's stuck in a tree, I'm kinda busy right now. Can we chat later?
[ At the intersection of a whine and a moan is the sound that Steve makes when Sam tightens his grip on Steve's hair. He hopes that Bucky didn't hear, not for Bucky's sake, or even Sam's, but because it would more than likely cut this short.
When he's taken Sam as deep as he can, Steve pauses for a moment to relax his throat and suppress his gag reflex. And then he starts to tease Sam, first flicking the tip of his tongue along the underside of Sam's cock, then flattening his tongue and hollowing his cheeks to suck him mercilessly. ]
[Sam has created a dick-sucking monster, and his only regret is that he can't give this blowjob the attention it deserves. Not that he's really listening to Bucky, either; he's just trying to keep from making pornographic noises while he's on the phone.]
Shit, [Sam swears under his breath at one point while Steve's sucking him. Steve's going to be lucky if Sam doesn't pull out half his hair by the time this is over.] Yeah, I, uh, dropped the peanut butter jar on my foot. I'm making a fluffernutter sandwich, [he explains to Bucky.] Kinda tricky with one hand.
[ Sam is saying something into the phone, but his voice sounds distant, drowned out by the noises Steve is making as he chokes himself on Sam's dick. He feels himself sinking into a weightless space where everything else melts away. There's nothing left but him and Sam, or more accurately, him and a very specific part of Sam. Logic doesn't exist in this space, and so when Steve sucks Sam like he can take him in so deep they'll never have to separate again, that seems a perfectly reasonable goal to him. ]
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Sam ruts shamelessly against Steve's thigh and a noise that's almost like a whimper is trapped in his throat. It's hard to find purchase in the suit, in the layers of fabric between them. His biggest complaint about uniforms - nearly all of them - is that they're too damn complicated to get out of when you really want to, and this is one that he can't risk damaging. His fingers fumble between them; he's not used to this suit yet, can't find his way out blindly.]
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[Though actually, Sam kinda misses the suit Steve had modified when they were on the run, as ridiculous as it sounds (less ridiculous considering he's absolutely fucked Steve in it before). Black is a good color for him - granted, when you're built like Steve Rogers, colors don't matter all that much.]
Hold on- if you rip something, there's no way I'm gonna be able to explain to Shuri why I need it fixed.
[The suit might not be as fancy as T'Challa's, but he can't just take it to the dry cleaner's, either. Sam finally gets his fingers on the hidden controls in the chestpiece, and the front splits open neatly. The white undershirt underneath is soaked through with sweat, and Sam silently blesses Wakandan technology for keeping him from smelling completely off-putting.
The bottom comes free from the top, too, and Sam engages in some strategic wriggling against Steve as he pulls the pants down as far as he can.]
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Okay, okay, [ Steve all but whines breathlessly. Watching Sam struggle with the controls of his suit is both sympathetic and frustrating. Steve is glad he had the foresight to stow his nano-suit away before Sam arrived, because he wouldn't trust himself to operate the watch in present condition. The clothes he had on underneath are simple: a navy t-shirt and jeans. In the end, Steve does rip the seam of his own pants in his haste to get them off, but fortunately denim is much more replaceable.
The t-shirt is similarly quick to go, and then Steve is dropping to his knees, ostensibly to help Sam finish pulling his pants down all the way. But if while he's down there, he takes the opportunity to mouth hotly against the outline of Sam in his underwear, well, he could hardly have been expected to resist. ]
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[Sam's voice pitches and cracks on the last word as Steve mouths his erection, and yeah, it's definitely overdue - not that he wouldn't be reacting the same way if Steve had just sucked him off last night, because it's Steve, of course he would, but he also really fucking needs this. His fingers scrabble against the wall, and then he just gives up entirely and runs a hand into Steve's hair. Whatever, he'll keep the damn boots on.]
You gonna keep teasing me, or are you gonna take what you want?
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But they are, or at least, Steve most certainly is, and he wastes no time dragging Sam's underpants down to expose his stunning cock. It's a work of art, if you ask Steve, but he'd say that about all of Sam. Chiseled marble doesn't come close.
The way Steve sees it, Sam issued a dare, and he's never backed down from one of those. He wraps a hand around the base of Sam's dick and starts kissing and licking a filthy path up the length of him. When he reaches the head, he takes it in between his lips, teases it a little with his tongue, and then he backs off.
He looks up at Sam through heavy eyelashes. ] How's that for taking what I want?
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[The intensity of Steve's gaze makes Sam shiver. Steve applies that laser focus to everything he does, but it's different when he's looking at Sam - and when he's on his knees and looking up at Sam, it's practically enough to make him come. Doesn't hurt that his eyes are fucking gorgeous, either, especially when his irises are the barest ring of dark blue around even darker pupils.
Sam's phone chimes from somewhere in the pile of clothes, and he huffs and uses one foot to toe the cloth away. He doesn't care if it's the damn apocalypse, he's busy right now.
Unfortunately, the phone keeps ringing.]
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Oh, you're callin' me now? Seems like you weren't even answering my texts a week ago.
[Sam twists the fingers of his free hand in Steve's hair. Hopefully that'll ground him enough to make it through this call.]
Listen, unless something's literally on fire or your cat's stuck in a tree, I'm kinda busy right now. Can we chat later?
[Please, please let Bucky get the hint.
(People who do not get hints: Bucky Barnes.)]
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When he's taken Sam as deep as he can, Steve pauses for a moment to relax his throat and suppress his gag reflex. And then he starts to tease Sam, first flicking the tip of his tongue along the underside of Sam's cock, then flattening his tongue and hollowing his cheeks to suck him mercilessly. ]
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Shit, [Sam swears under his breath at one point while Steve's sucking him. Steve's going to be lucky if Sam doesn't pull out half his hair by the time this is over.] Yeah, I, uh, dropped the peanut butter jar on my foot. I'm making a fluffernutter sandwich, [he explains to Bucky.] Kinda tricky with one hand.
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