if i ever leave this world alive ( closed to bucky )

[broil]

[It's obscenely late, but it's easy to still find people roaming the streets. The majority of them stupid drunk, or just one of the two, stumbling back home or finding their way to one more bar so they can end the night in a pathetic haze of alcohol and neon lights. Petre remains perfectly sober when he brings his cigarette down from his lips, leaning back against the brick building where he's met his so-called friend many times before now. He knows the way here by heart, no matter where he's coming from. It's a visit he enjoys paying, and he's quite certain that this night will be no different.

Assuming Bucky can actually make it here alive.]

Comments

[broil]

Yeah? You like that?

[Idle talk, thrusting in hard, jerking his hips against Bucky's, skin smacking on skin.]

Say you want it. Say you want me.

[His hand reaches out, finds Bucky's hair and yanks his head back, exposing his throat.]

[welltrained]

[When his head is yanked back, Bucky's lip is still in his mouth and he bites down again, and this time he definitely tastes blood as he cries out.]

Shiiiit... I want you... fuck I want you so bad...

[His hands scramble for purchase somewhere, anywhere, the couch, Petre's skin, whatever he can reach.]

[broil]

[He leans down to lick his throat obscenely, even trace it with his teeth in a threat to bite down and make him know what it feels like to choke on your own blood. Nothing so gruesome ever happens, though, and instead his thrusting grows faster and more brutal until he freezes and spills inside Bucky, riding out the orgasm with a cry mixed in with laughter, fading out into a sigh.]

[welltrained]

[God, he almost wishes Petre would bite down, make him bleed all over each other. His hands are stained red with the blood of the men he's killed--he's lost count of how many, and he's not sure if it was on purpose or accidentally. It was too long ago to tell. His life is coated in the blood of others--what's a little more? He's already bleeding into his mouth from his bitten lip.

And then Petre's climax hits, and Bucky groans as he watches, but he's still not close enough to follow. There's just a little too much pain. His breaths come hard and desperate, and he brings his hands up into Petre's hair, tugging insistently.]

Petre... Petre, please...

[broil]

[Petre is still exhaling the aftermath of his cries when he lets his head drop, heaving slightly before he pulls out of Bucky, a thin trail of sticky fluid following the tip of his cock. His hand goes to to Bucky's, stroking him fast and hard to make sure the job is done. He could ride him just as easily, repay him the favor in full, but this will do.]

Come in my hand, Buck. Come on.

[welltrained]

[Bucky's head falls back and he whines, rather pathetically, his hips arching upward into Petre's hand as he babbles nonsensically.]

Yes... yes, oh please...

[And then he finally comes, his orgasm washing over the aching pain. His hips make little stuttering thrusts upward into Petre's hand as he groans loudly, relaxing back down on the couch as it fades away and he's left panting, aching, spent.]

[broil]

[There's satisfaction on his grin when Bucky does finally reach his climax, letting it wash over his body before he relaxes back on the couch. Petre licks his own lips, then brings up the hand now stained by his sticky fluid to clean it off obscenely, making sure he sees.]

How was that, soldier.

[welltrained]

[He worries his bitten lip between his teeth with a grin as he watches Petre clean off his hand.]

Fuckin' perfect.

[He stretches and sighs and groans a little.]

I'm real fuckin' glad I don't have to work tomorrow because I probably won't be able to move.

[broil]

I think I'd pay to see that.

[He lifts himself up, his turn to stretch lazily, looking around as if looking for something he lost.]

[welltrained]

What, me trying to move tomorrow?

[He snorts.]

Yeah, I'll bet.

[He tilts his head curiously as Petre looks around.]

Lose something?

[broil]

Not sure. Head doesn't seem to be all there right now.

[most likely a compliment to Bucky.]

[welltrained]

[His eyebrows lift and Bucky stretches lazily again.]

Poor baby. How you must suffer.

[broil]

Not the one complaining about needing a wheelchair tomorrow.

[welltrained]

Complaining? I'm pretty much elated, no one's fucked me like that in ages.

[broil]

We'll see how elated you are in the morning.

[assuming he'll stay over long enough to find out.]

[welltrained]

We?

[He looks a little surprised. Petre isn't exactly the cuddling type.]

You sticking around?

[broil]

[with a smile,] It's cold outside.

[... a joke. Petre doesn't ever get cold.]

[welltrained]

[He finally sits up, leaning against the couch and grinning at Petre.]

I'd start singing, but I think you started on the wrong half of the duet.

Also I'm a terrible singer.

[broil]

Oh yes, I know that quite well.

[no comment on whether Petre can sing. (He can't.)]

Am I allowed?

[welltrained]

Of course you're allowed.

[He's not generally the type of person to kick people out. But Petre... is a strange case. He's never really sure exactly what to do with Petre. He stands, stretching languidly.]

You're welcome to join me in my bed. But the couch pulls out, if you prefer.

[He shrugs.]

[broil]

I don't sleep on couches.

[You've invited a brat into your house, Bucky, now deal with it. He stands as well, runs a hand through his hair, handling himself as though all they've been doing is talk to one another. It's a perfectly normal night.]

[welltrained]

Technically it'd be a bed once I pulled it out.

[He winks and starts walking, but instead of heading to the bedroom he goes to the bathroom.]

Feel free to go right in, I just want to wash up a little.

[broil]

If you need to add 'technically' to it, it's not really a bed.

[just saying.]

Take as long as you need.

[welltrained]

[Bucky laughs, but doesn't respond otherwise, and, taking Petre's invitation, he takes a shower.

He doesn't take too long, not even ten minutes, and he dries off and heads back into the bedroom.]

Comfortable?