[ there's hardly even a sting for the pressure that's hard enough to invite bruises to color his skin, blue and purple, for all his body has evolved, has adapted to what he'd been put through, for what his genetic nature tried to do from the inside to protect him. his pain tolerance is absurd, at this point, but he knows the press of bucky's fingers and the curl of his hands against his skin, and he knows there's enough force in it to mark him. it might look odd to be sighing softly, like relief, at the aspect of visible injury, when the same gesture from anyone else would have him insulted and enraged. with bucky, it just feels like becoming human again.
all it takes is the careful nudge to his knees, and Andyr's thighs part to let bucky settled between them, hips cradled against the backs of his legs as they wrap over his waist, twisting around bucky's body and pulling himself as close as he can to his warmth and security. to the streaming words of assurance, protection and such gentle nurturing Andyr hasn't known in what feels like a lifetime. he breathes out with murmured words, nodding his head. ] I believe you, Bucky.
[ of all the people on the ship who've told him about how they'd come help him fight his war back home, or how they'd want to save him from something like that, right now, Bucky's the only one he truly believes.
too strong emotion, like a fever rising in him, swells, making his chest feel tight, and with Bucky reaching between them to take him in hand and stroke arousal along his cock, it's a very personal kind of intimacy they don't typically have. andyr bare in every sense of the word, and bucky all strong muscle and sturdy support, still dressed from after his shower, entirely in control of this. a shaky inhale goes through him, throat hitching under Bucky's hand, and leaves him slowly, with a faint moan, as his hips push up into the metal circling his dick, pumping sweetly. ]
I'm sorry. [ it just tumbles out, in the freefall of all that's he's letting go, and andyr shakes his head a bit, eyes closed, with a crease between his brows, not even sure what he's apologizing for. for being a mess? certainly not for the bloodbath he'd left behind. for not saving himself? for what compromise of his dignity he'd made in order to wait for the moment he needed to safely snap back, rather than just his proud, no exceptions refusal and defiance he'd always carried before. not that bucky had been there for that, not that he's in his head now to know, but there's still that shame in him, as if he knows, as if the entire ship does.
andyr mutters it again, i'm sorry, but pushes to press his face into the curve of bucky's shoulder and neck, as if that could block out the entire reality of it. his legs around bucky's hips squeeze and pull at him, arching up for more of him, as his hands pick at the closures of his top, and the fly of his pants shortly after, wanting to get to his skin - his stomach, his chests, his hips, anything so long as it's him. ]
no subject
all it takes is the careful nudge to his knees, and Andyr's thighs part to let bucky settled between them, hips cradled against the backs of his legs as they wrap over his waist, twisting around bucky's body and pulling himself as close as he can to his warmth and security. to the streaming words of assurance, protection and such gentle nurturing Andyr hasn't known in what feels like a lifetime. he breathes out with murmured words, nodding his head. ] I believe you, Bucky.
[ of all the people on the ship who've told him about how they'd come help him fight his war back home, or how they'd want to save him from something like that, right now, Bucky's the only one he truly believes.
too strong emotion, like a fever rising in him, swells, making his chest feel tight, and with Bucky reaching between them to take him in hand and stroke arousal along his cock, it's a very personal kind of intimacy they don't typically have. andyr bare in every sense of the word, and bucky all strong muscle and sturdy support, still dressed from after his shower, entirely in control of this. a shaky inhale goes through him, throat hitching under Bucky's hand, and leaves him slowly, with a faint moan, as his hips push up into the metal circling his dick, pumping sweetly. ]
I'm sorry. [ it just tumbles out, in the freefall of all that's he's letting go, and andyr shakes his head a bit, eyes closed, with a crease between his brows, not even sure what he's apologizing for. for being a mess? certainly not for the bloodbath he'd left behind. for not saving himself? for what compromise of his dignity he'd made in order to wait for the moment he needed to safely snap back, rather than just his proud, no exceptions refusal and defiance he'd always carried before. not that bucky had been there for that, not that he's in his head now to know, but there's still that shame in him, as if he knows, as if the entire ship does.
andyr mutters it again, i'm sorry, but pushes to press his face into the curve of bucky's shoulder and neck, as if that could block out the entire reality of it. his legs around bucky's hips squeeze and pull at him, arching up for more of him, as his hands pick at the closures of his top, and the fly of his pants shortly after, wanting to get to his skin - his stomach, his chests, his hips, anything so long as it's him. ]