The Captain moves...but not in the way he planned.
It happens fast - the man surges forward all of a sudden to catch the Winter Soldier off-guard even though he'd been half-expecting it, quick enough that even as he instinctively jerks back on the leash the Captain follows it forward instead of fighting it. Before he can pitch himself to the side the Soldier finds himself bodily pinned. One leg's wrenched painfully around in a position where he can't get any leverage, can't kick; can't do much more than writhe against the Captain with his weeping cock pinned painfully between them, streaking against their sweat-slicked skin. He spits out a pissed-off sound between his bared teeth, saliva smearing against their cheeks as his head's forced to the side, the Captain dragging a trail of it up against his profile almost to his hairline.
The Soldier's struggling only seems to egg on the other asset. He twists and writhes and his aching balls sliding against the floor with each futile buck, his breath coming in wet, shaking pants, overwhelmed by the double assault of the aphro burning inside him and the Captain rubbing all over him like he wants to claim him. The bulge straining against the crotch of the Captain's pants already started to soak through and soon his thigh's damp where he grinds and grinds and grinds. The Captain's shifted high enough that the Soldier's gets a faceful of his tattered shirt, the other man's stiff nipples seeming to be everywhere - his flushed cheek, sweeping against his nose, teasing against his parted lips - the shirt hiking up even further so that his head's pinned against the shelf by the firm press of his pectoral.
For a second he doesn't obey. Blood rushes in his skull, a roaring sound that almost drowns out the Captain's voice tickling against his ear, his breath hot and demanding; the brush of his swollen lips sends a shudder wracking down the Winter Soldier's spine as he jerks uselessly against the other asset and just ends up with a stiff nipple poking the corner of his mouth for all his trouble. Quivering against the Captain, trapped, the Soldier's breaths come in ragged, needy gasps. Something that's remembering it's anger wars with a yawning, animal need, with the sudden, inexplicable urge to tilt his head to the side so that the Captain's nipple could pop into his mouth. His cock twitches against the Captain's stomach, the straining shaft hot and engorged against flexing muscle.
The Soldier relents.
With a snarl that almost sounds pissed, he gropes his way down the other man's taut stomach. Fingers slide through the glistening trails of his own precum until he can slip them past the waistband. When he encounters the Captain's cock, he won't exactly be gentle as he grabs its trapped shaft in his callused fingers. At the same time the Winter Soldier's dark head shifts to allow that nipple digging into the corner of his mouth to finally slip inside, his tongue sweeping and suckling around the rosy bud. Teeth graze against skin. It feels marginally better to have something in his mouth - though maybe it's too small - but he can't seem to keep it in because the Captain keeps moving; one second his pectoral's bumping against his mouth, hard enough to drive his nose into firm muscle, only to pull away the next so that the Soldier has to hungrily seek it with his mouth, open and questing, tongue slipping out as he manages to recapture his nipple.
The hand shoved past the Captain's waistband is exploring, stroking, squeezing, hot palm to hot length. It's random, without an idea of where best to touch, his knuckles outlined against the soaked fabric of his pants as rough fingers curl and pull against the underside of his trapped cock. (But even high on aphro, The Winter Soldier knows better than to squeeze with all his might, to sink his teeth into the nipple stiffening against his surging tongue)
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It happens fast - the man surges forward all of a sudden to catch the Winter Soldier off-guard even though he'd been half-expecting it, quick enough that even as he instinctively jerks back on the leash the Captain follows it forward instead of fighting it. Before he can pitch himself to the side the Soldier finds himself bodily pinned. One leg's wrenched painfully around in a position where he can't get any leverage, can't kick; can't do much more than writhe against the Captain with his weeping cock pinned painfully between them, streaking against their sweat-slicked skin. He spits out a pissed-off sound between his bared teeth, saliva smearing against their cheeks as his head's forced to the side, the Captain dragging a trail of it up against his profile almost to his hairline.
The Soldier's struggling only seems to egg on the other asset. He twists and writhes and his aching balls sliding against the floor with each futile buck, his breath coming in wet, shaking pants, overwhelmed by the double assault of the aphro burning inside him and the Captain rubbing all over him like he wants to claim him. The bulge straining against the crotch of the Captain's pants already started to soak through and soon his thigh's damp where he grinds and grinds and grinds. The Captain's shifted high enough that the Soldier's gets a faceful of his tattered shirt, the other man's stiff nipples seeming to be everywhere - his flushed cheek, sweeping against his nose, teasing against his parted lips - the shirt hiking up even further so that his head's pinned against the shelf by the firm press of his pectoral.
For a second he doesn't obey. Blood rushes in his skull, a roaring sound that almost drowns out the Captain's voice tickling against his ear, his breath hot and demanding; the brush of his swollen lips sends a shudder wracking down the Winter Soldier's spine as he jerks uselessly against the other asset and just ends up with a stiff nipple poking the corner of his mouth for all his trouble. Quivering against the Captain, trapped, the Soldier's breaths come in ragged, needy gasps. Something that's remembering it's anger wars with a yawning, animal need, with the sudden, inexplicable urge to tilt his head to the side so that the Captain's nipple could pop into his mouth. His cock twitches against the Captain's stomach, the straining shaft hot and engorged against flexing muscle.
The Soldier relents.
With a snarl that almost sounds pissed, he gropes his way down the other man's taut stomach. Fingers slide through the glistening trails of his own precum until he can slip them past the waistband. When he encounters the Captain's cock, he won't exactly be gentle as he grabs its trapped shaft in his callused fingers. At the same time the Winter Soldier's dark head shifts to allow that nipple digging into the corner of his mouth to finally slip inside, his tongue sweeping and suckling around the rosy bud. Teeth graze against skin. It feels marginally better to have something in his mouth - though maybe it's too small - but he can't seem to keep it in because the Captain keeps moving; one second his pectoral's bumping against his mouth, hard enough to drive his nose into firm muscle, only to pull away the next so that the Soldier has to hungrily seek it with his mouth, open and questing, tongue slipping out as he manages to recapture his nipple.
The hand shoved past the Captain's waistband is exploring, stroking, squeezing, hot palm to hot length. It's random, without an idea of where best to touch, his knuckles outlined against the soaked fabric of his pants as rough fingers curl and pull against the underside of his trapped cock. (But even high on aphro, The Winter Soldier knows better than to squeeze with all his might, to sink his teeth into the nipple stiffening against his surging tongue)