[in some ways, it's absolutely maddening. so much of loki's life (essence, even) has been a question of riding the tides of chaos, letting moments of high emotion like this rip and tear and shred everything within him to pieces, finding new patterns to put himself back together.
the hunger of the moment is familiar enough. the act of being stripped by a lover is familiar as well. the care of it, clean and methodical rather than frantic and scrambling, is... not perfectly new, perhaps, but still strange. still fresh. still, ultimately, lovely, because it's the way bucky chooses to devote himself to the moment.
besides, the result is a wonderful reward. his skin prickles, a cold sort of burning in the wake of each press of lips and fingers to newly exposed skin. his own hands are much less methodical, tangling in the back of bucky's shirt to keep the man pressed close, breath coming short and shallow. dizzied, he tugs them both toward the waiting nest, trembling with the dual desires to move and to keep in constant contact.]
no subject
the hunger of the moment is familiar enough. the act of being stripped by a lover is familiar as well. the care of it, clean and methodical rather than frantic and scrambling, is... not perfectly new, perhaps, but still strange. still fresh. still, ultimately, lovely, because it's the way bucky chooses to devote himself to the moment.
besides, the result is a wonderful reward. his skin prickles, a cold sort of burning in the wake of each press of lips and fingers to newly exposed skin. his own hands are much less methodical, tangling in the back of bucky's shirt to keep the man pressed close, breath coming short and shallow. dizzied, he tugs them both toward the waiting nest, trembling with the dual desires to move and to keep in constant contact.]