[ He shouldn't be turned on by Rumlow struggling to take his cock. He shouldn't - it was so messed up that it made guilt churn uneasily in his stomach, but fact was that he was turned on by it. There's a sick sort of pleasure out of gripping his hair like that, from rolling his hips up and fucking up into his mouth impatiently. Guilt will come later; right now, he slides his legs out further and braces one knee against Rumlow's shoulder, rolling his hips up again.
Where this is going, he's not entirely certain. He knows where he'd like it to go, but that's a little over ambitious and a poor idea; the further this goes, though, the less he thinks he'll actually worry about it and the more he thinks he'll likely want it. The concern is what Rumlow wants, fucked as that is to think about.
Rumlow's tongue slides over the flushed head of his cock and Steve lets it go another few moments before exhaling harshly, dragging him back with a firm pull. ]
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Where this is going, he's not entirely certain. He knows where he'd like it to go, but that's a little over ambitious and a poor idea; the further this goes, though, the less he thinks he'll actually worry about it and the more he thinks he'll likely want it. The concern is what Rumlow wants, fucked as that is to think about.
Rumlow's tongue slides over the flushed head of his cock and Steve lets it go another few moments before exhaling harshly, dragging him back with a firm pull. ]
Too much.