The Soldier might be keeping his eyes on the Captain, but the Captain is watching him right back. His eyes aren’t cast down or closed, either — piercing blue-green zeroes in on the Winter Soldier’s own blue-gray eyes, and doesn’t let them go. He doesn’t even flinch when those metal fingers dig into his hair — it’s not like he hasn’t had his hair pulled before, in combat. It’s not like he can’t withstand it.
Even if there’s something different about the way the sharp pain registers in the back of his mind, this time. Some strange sensation, strange little shock of pleasure racing along his nerves at the same time. That’s… new, he thinks. Can’t be sure, of course. But he thinks it is. Despite having only a hazy frame of reference for times before, something about this test, this situation, feels different. He thinks, carefully, deep down where even he can’t really focus too much on it, that he might like it.
Or he would, if the damn Soldier wasn’t being so goddamned demanding, pulling the Captain back and forth on his cock like he doesn’t know what he wants, only it must be something like this. Except… except that’s pleasing in its own way, too, isn’t it. He says You need to do better, but what the Captain hears is I need more. And that… that is a position the Captain likes having him in, even when it seems like the Captain himself is at a disadvantage. It doesn’t feel like it, even when his jaw has to drop a little more, his throat has to strain against the girth of the Soldier’s cock down it, and yet all the Captain can think is, I did that.
And also, I want more, too.
That’s what makes him give the first suck — the idea of more despite the fact that he’s not sure how to get it any more than the Soldier is. But sucking, swallowing, those seem only natural, and so that’s what he does, throat constricting around the sensitive head as his mouth stretches wide, lips pink and wet with saliva and precome, a little trail of it dribbling from the corner of his lips. His eyes narrow, gaze still locked on the Soldier’s, and he starts to pull back a little on his own, experimentally, as he hears the barely-there whine of servos in the Soldier’s prosthetic signal he's about to slide him back again by the hair — only to rock forward again suddenly, hard, with a wet slurping noise as he tries to inhale at the same time. Metal fingers tear at his short hair, but his own thighs tense and he’s got enough leverage to force himself back and forth on the Soldier’s cock, rather than being made to do it. He adds the sucking and swallowing again, and again, the noise of it filling his ears almost louder than the blood already roaring in them.
There’s no real rhythm to it at first, but the Captain is HYDRA’s premier asset. He is smart, he is intuitive, and he is a fast learner. He sets his own pace, using his sheer strength to resist when the Soldier tries to pull or push him sooner than he wants to be pulled or pushed. His lungs do start to burn, but he can take it. He can take anything the Soldier throws at him. And more.
One hand suddenly slides down between the Soldier’s legs, fumbling for his balls, squeezing firm but careful, rolling them in a big, rough, warm palm, then squeezing, then pressing, then rolling again. A thought flashes through his mind: I wonder what he tastes like there — and quick as a thought, he flings himself back and pulls off the Soldier’s hard shaft with a wet sound. But then he’s diving right back in, tilting his head to suck the Soldier’s balls into his mouth as the hand that had been squeezing them slides up along the Soldier’s spit-slick cock instead, twisting at the head before slipping back down again to squeeze hard at the thick base.
no subject
Even if there’s something different about the way the sharp pain registers in the back of his mind, this time. Some strange sensation, strange little shock of pleasure racing along his nerves at the same time. That’s… new, he thinks. Can’t be sure, of course. But he thinks it is. Despite having only a hazy frame of reference for times before, something about this test, this situation, feels different. He thinks, carefully, deep down where even he can’t really focus too much on it, that he might like it.
Or he would, if the damn Soldier wasn’t being so goddamned demanding, pulling the Captain back and forth on his cock like he doesn’t know what he wants, only it must be something like this. Except… except that’s pleasing in its own way, too, isn’t it. He says You need to do better, but what the Captain hears is I need more. And that… that is a position the Captain likes having him in, even when it seems like the Captain himself is at a disadvantage. It doesn’t feel like it, even when his jaw has to drop a little more, his throat has to strain against the girth of the Soldier’s cock down it, and yet all the Captain can think is, I did that.
And also, I want more, too.
That’s what makes him give the first suck — the idea of more despite the fact that he’s not sure how to get it any more than the Soldier is. But sucking, swallowing, those seem only natural, and so that’s what he does, throat constricting around the sensitive head as his mouth stretches wide, lips pink and wet with saliva and precome, a little trail of it dribbling from the corner of his lips. His eyes narrow, gaze still locked on the Soldier’s, and he starts to pull back a little on his own, experimentally, as he hears the barely-there whine of servos in the Soldier’s prosthetic signal he's about to slide him back again by the hair — only to rock forward again suddenly, hard, with a wet slurping noise as he tries to inhale at the same time. Metal fingers tear at his short hair, but his own thighs tense and he’s got enough leverage to force himself back and forth on the Soldier’s cock, rather than being made to do it. He adds the sucking and swallowing again, and again, the noise of it filling his ears almost louder than the blood already roaring in them.
There’s no real rhythm to it at first, but the Captain is HYDRA’s premier asset. He is smart, he is intuitive, and he is a fast learner. He sets his own pace, using his sheer strength to resist when the Soldier tries to pull or push him sooner than he wants to be pulled or pushed. His lungs do start to burn, but he can take it. He can take anything the Soldier throws at him. And more.
One hand suddenly slides down between the Soldier’s legs, fumbling for his balls, squeezing firm but careful, rolling them in a big, rough, warm palm, then squeezing, then pressing, then rolling again. A thought flashes through his mind: I wonder what he tastes like there — and quick as a thought, he flings himself back and pulls off the Soldier’s hard shaft with a wet sound. But then he’s diving right back in, tilting his head to suck the Soldier’s balls into his mouth as the hand that had been squeezing them slides up along the Soldier’s spit-slick cock instead, twisting at the head before slipping back down again to squeeze hard at the thick base.