[ Much as he'd like to say he hauled him away, there's no chance of that. Rumlow's mouth feels too good against his skin, around his cock. Steve spills into his mouth with a low, soft moan, a little hitch of his breath at the end as he realizes Rumlow swallows all of it. He ought to be disgusted - not at the act, but at himself, at doing this, but he can't bring himself to be.
Steve drags a hand through Rumlow's hair, softer this time, slower and less angry, and pulls a face at that leer. ]
You'd be out of luck if you didn't like it.
[ Steve strokes one hand down Rumlow's jaw, thumbing over his bottom lip, trying not to think about how his lips are spit and come slick with his come, how that's not a turn on (except for how it is.) ]
no subject
Steve drags a hand through Rumlow's hair, softer this time, slower and less angry, and pulls a face at that leer. ]
You'd be out of luck if you didn't like it.
[ Steve strokes one hand down Rumlow's jaw, thumbing over his bottom lip, trying not to think about how his lips are spit and come slick with his come, how that's not a turn on (except for how it is.) ]