battlemaged | open post

From:

Bucky remembers the fire magic. He remembers what it felt like on his skin, and even wonders what it would feel like on his metal arm. Those thoughts are quickly pushed back a bit by Hawke's lips against his own, and he's relieved that he didn't make this too weird, or mess it up.

The deeper kiss has him reaching out again, sliding his hands to Hawke's waist. It's a kiss that pulls him in, opens him up, has him leaning in for more, even as his back presses up against the counter.

He can feel it then- what he had been thinking about about all this time. The way Hawke feels pressed against him, a heat that he's pretty damn sure isn't part of Hawke's magic, filling every spot where their bodies connect. Bucky moves his real hand up to Hawke's face, glad to finally have skin against skin.

From:

battlemaged

Bucky was just as delicious and delectable as he'd ever been, and Hawke took full advantage of the reciprocity to wind them closer together, greedily insistent. Skin against skin was magnificent, just as sweet as Bucky's open mouth and curious tongue. Fabric rasped as the two men moved against each other, but it was a salacious friction in Hawke's ears, but he finally had to lift his head to catch a swift breath, leaning his cheek into the hand that cupped his face.

"Tell me," he managed to rasp, voice gone husky with barely-leashed desire, "...tell me if I go too far." Because the last thing he wanted to do was to overstep, or, Maker forbid, trigger an instinctive response. He leaned his forehead against Bucky's once again, simply breathing him in. "I'll never hurt you, Bucky, you know that."

From:

endof_theline

Bucky doesn't hesitate to return each kiss, the tension that has built up melting away little by little once again. They're closer than he's let anyone get in a very long time, but it feels good. He doesn't feel trapped or on edge. He doesn't feel like he's going to lash out and hurt Rowen in any way.

When the kiss breaks, Bucky licks his lips, eyes focusing on Rowen's face, letting those words settle in against him. "If I ever feel like it's too much, I'll tell you." Because that's important. Consent, honesty, knowing their limits. It's very important to him, and he imagines it is for Hawke as well.

Bucky's forehead presses back against Rowen's and he breathes out against his lips. Does he know that? That Rowen would never hurt him? He wants to believe it, and that'll have to be good enough, so he nods. "I know you don't want to. I don't want to hurt you either."

He knows it's different from what Rowen said, but it's closest to the truth.

From:

battlemaged

Hawke nodded. "Good." Honesty was absolutely required in a relationship such as this, and Hawke knew it. But he wanted this. He'd found someone wonderfully special in Bucky Barnes, and he wasn't at all ready to lose him. Unless that was Bucky's choice, of course. It would be heartbreaking, but he'd lived through heartbreak before; it wasn't anything even remotely new.

And now it was time to try something new. With deliberate slowness, Hawke lifted his head, reached for Bucky's hands, and pointedly brought them to the buttons of his shirt. "If you want," he whispered in a low voice, teasing his mouth against Bucky's, soft little kisses of mutual desire and offered reassurance.

From:

endof_theline

It's still very new, but Bucky's hopeful. Rowen is patient and understanding- he makes it easier to be here, living life instead of just trying to survive it. Bucky feels like he knows the other man has a good heart, and tonight has just been more proof of that. He plans on sticking around.

He wouldn't be here in this position with Rowen if he felt any other way.

When his hands are brought up to Rowen's chest, against the buttons on his shirt, Bucky knows what he wants, even if his heart rate spikes hard. He breathes out softly against Rowen's lips, then presses in for those soft little kisses as he slowly starts to unbutton the top button, then slides his fingers down to the next, and the one after that, making his way down. When he gets Rowen's shirt undone completely, he pulls back from the kisses a little, resting his forehead against the other man's.

"Just warning you- the metal might be cold."

From:

battlemaged

Hawke had trailed his fingertips upwards over Bucky's arms to his shoulders as the soldier worked on the shirt buttons, and once the fabric spread Hawke slid his hands down Bucky's back once more, safe and close. Each step they took was profound, and each step taken they'd take together. Hawke would see to that.

Their foreheads resting together yet again, breathing the other's breath, Hawke smiled at Bucky's quiet comment. "It's a delicious contrast," he replied, absolutely meaning it. The brush of those fascinating fingertips had made him shiver, delightfully so. And now, it was his turn.

Lifting his head, Hawke met Bucky's gaze without waver, bringing his hands to the zipper of the latter's jacket. He already knew what lay beneath it, but revealing the flesh in its entirety was a different animal altogether. The newfangled clasp between his thumb and forefinger, he didn't take the liberty, but instead quietly queried, "May I?"

From:

endof_theline

A delicious contrast. Rowen knows how to make Bucky smile, even if it's a quiet one at the moment. It gives him the confidence to slide his hands into the open shirt, letting his fingers glide along warm skin. It's different, of course, than what he's used to- but the truth is, after decades of lacking a human touch in this kind of way, he's not really used to anything anymore.

Rowen feels good under his fingers. Strong and solid. He'll always be gentler with his metal arm, because he doesn't want to use it to hurt any longer, so he takes care not to.

When Rowen's hands move to the zipper of his jacket, Bucky gives him a nod. "Yes."

From:

battlemaged

An approving purr rumbled in Hawke's chest, inviting more of that curious touch, and he stole another lingering kiss from Bucky's sweet lips before very carefully lowering the jacket's zipper and parting the heavy fabric entirely. Even though the shirt beneath it was just as concealing, it was all about one layer at a time.

Carefully easing the coat over Bucky's shoulders, Hawke deftly worked it down Bucky's arms until he was able to pull it completely free, absently tossing it atop the counter behind his sweet soldier. Another shirt separated skin from skin, but rather than work on those buttons next, Hawke simply slipped his hands beneath that layer, placing his warm palms against Bucky's ribcage, flesh to flesh.

They slid around to Bucky's back, then glided upwards along his spine, bunching the material over Hawke's arms as they went. But that was fine; small steps. "...you feel wonderful," Hawke whispered against Bucky's mouth. "So very strong...but soft, as well." More kisses, small meetings of mouths, gentle nips of teeth. Hawke trailed his lips over Bucky's jaw, licked a slow wet line to the tender skin beneath his ear.

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to touch you everywhere, my sweet Bucky."

From:

endof_theline

Oh, he likes that sound. He can feel it move through him, sparking an even deeper arousal than before. He leans in to kiss Rowen again, easing into the feeling of being undressed, little by little.

He moves his hands from Rowen's chest only to help him pull his jacket off, and then his hands move right back, fingers pressing along Rowen's sides, then up to his shoulders to push his shirt off of them. He has to pause there though, because the feel of Rowen's hands on his skin is so intense, so good that he forgets how to even move for a moment, letting out a soft sound of approval. The touch is warm, just like the rest of Rowen. He likes that part a lot.

"Damn... so do you. You feel incredible," he breathes out quickly after that, "Strong but soft-- exactly like that." He returns the kisses more eagerly after that, closing his eyes and letting his lips travel along the other man's jaw as well. Whatever darker mood he was in earlier seems far away from him now as he's wrapped up in Rowen, exploring him so freely.

"I want that too." Maybe not such small steps. Maybe too much too soon, but he does't think so. "I wanna feel you pressed against me in every single way."

From:

battlemaged

Hearing that, along with the breathy tone of his beautiful soldier, this time Hawke didn't ask before lifting the blue shirt over Bucky's head, carefully working the long sleeves over those mismatched arms. Of course, doing so revealed the mangled horror of that left shoulder, and Hawke couldn't help but hiss a soft breath, brows lowering in a flash of heated anger at the bastards who'd dared such a thing.

"...Bucky..." Hawke didn't even realized he'd said the other man's name, instinctively reaching for the red, scarred skin with an outstretched palm glowing a cool minty-green. Then stopped. Because Bucky had said no. He didn't want to be healed. Something else Hawke understood.

Hawke lowered his hand, its glow slowly fading. But there wasn’t an ounce of judgment in the blue eyes that sought Bucky’s, just a quiet, tender sympathy.

“…oh, love. Would that I could ease but a small bit of that burden…”

Edited Date: 2024-05-24 02:36 am (UTC)

From:

endof_theline

Bucky lifts his arms to help Rowen tug his shirt off, trying not to feel self conscious about it this time. He knows Rowen's curious about it though, so he's expecting some attention to the limb. He's not really sure if he wants to see the expression on Rowen's face though, but he doesn't even need to look. He can hear that soft hiss, and the tension that's there, the reaction to what he sees.

Bucky knows it's not an attractive sight- and this is already far improved from how it was when he had the metal arm, before the vibranium one of given to him. The Wakandans took great care in trying to fix what they could.

But it reminds him of how different he is, how the arm was forced upon him, and he can feel tension curl back inside of him at the other man's intense reaction. He wants to ignore it, but it's hard to do so when he can see Hawke's hand lifting, magic at the ready. He jerks back a little harder than he's intending to, because of course he notices, eyebrows furrowed. It feels jarring in the moment, and he leans back a little against the counter, resting on his hands behind him.

"Don't." He shakes his head, avoiding Hawke's gaze. "It's a part of me whether I like it or not. I don't need your sympathy."

From:

battlemaged

It wasn’t at all surprising, the stiff response. Hawke simply held his ground, allowing Bucky to pull as far away as he wished. Bucky averted his gaze, and that was expected, too.

Rather than protest, Hawke simply kept still, but finally said, “It is part of you.” A gesture, indicating Bucky’s entire body, crown to heel. “All of this is you. No one part more exclusive than the other.”

He then gave a quietly amused little huff, adding, “And you may not want or need my sympathy, but that doesn't stop me from offering it. Don’t mistake it for pity, Bucky. Because they aren’t at all the same.”

From:

endof_theline

"If I look at it as a burden, then all it's gonna do is drag me down." That's what Hawke said, isn't it? That he wishes he could ease this burden. "I don't want it to be healed either." Because he deserves this. All the pain he's caused people, every life his hands have ended... he can't just move on from that and make his own life better when their families are still suffering.

"They feel the same when you look at me like that." He's ruining this, he knows it. He doesn't want to. "I'm sorry.

Look. I know this is my issue, not yours. Just-- gimme a minute." He rubs his hands over his face, slipping out from between Hawke and the counter, taking a few steps over to the sink to grab a glass of water.

From:

battlemaged

That wasn’t exactly what Hawke had meant, but then he didn’t know the entire story, either. So Hawke let it go and obligingly stepped back another pace when Bucky turned towards the sink.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Hawke reminded him, voice quiet. “This is just a moment in time. Let it pass.” He’d constantly reminded Fenris of that, trying to help the elf with the sudden panic attacks that emerged without any warning.

The instinctual urge was to try and soothe, to comfort, but that wasn’t what was needed just now. So Hawke gave Bucky his space, not put out of countenance by the abrupt shift in mood, or when Bucky turned away, hunched sightly over the sink.

Perhaps the best thing was simply to be there, letting Bucky deal with Bucky and make the choice of his own volition. To that end, Hawke silently leaned back against the counter, hands atop the pristine surface. Relaxed, but ever aware of the man not that far away.

From:

endof_theline

Bucky wonders if it would be different if Hawke knew, but that isn't going to happen. Not anytime soon, anyway. Not ever if he can help it. Those ghosts, those demons, they're his own to deal with.

But Hawke's words help in the way they always seem to do. This is just a moment in time, let it pass. Let it pass. He takes a long drink of water, letting those words sink into his head. That really is it. Just a moment in time, separate from all those things- and while he might not want to be healed, he also doesn't want to let that past drown him. Not when he finally has something good.

After a minute or two he nods, setting the glass into the sink and turns back to Hawke, dragging his fingers through his hair. "I didn't mean to- ruin this. I'm-" Sorry, he almost says again, but stops himself. "I hope I didn't."

From:

battlemaged

A small smile emerged when Bucky turned back around, and Hawke shook his head. “You didn’t.” He lifted an inquiring eyebrow. “I’m still here, am I not?”

Yet he understood all too well the feelings of shame, anger, and helplessness that accompanied such heavy trauma. He’d held a Tevinter elf together many a night back in Kirkwall, silently battling Fenris’ demons until both of them were exhausted, but Hawke had never given up. Not once. It wasn’t in him to just quit.

So he wordlessly held out an inviting hand, leaving the decision up to Bucky whether or not to take it.

From:

endof_theline

"Yeah, you're still here," he says, then returns Hawke's smile with one of his own. As small as it is, it's meaningful. He appreciates the care, the patience. The space Hawke gives him. He appreciates the understanding that he doesn't want to be healed, even if the reasons aren't apparent.

His smile grows as Hawke holds his hand out, and Bucky moves back toward him, taking it. He settles back into Hawke's space, lifting his hand to slide into the other man's hair as he leans in to kiss him once again.

No, none of this feels ruined at all.

From:

battlemaged

Bucky taking his offered hand brought another small, warm smile, and it became another of those rough, throaty purrs when Bucky's hand slid into Hawke's tousled dark hair. Lips met once more, the mage curving both arms around his soldier's waist as their kiss became two, three, each deeper and longer than the last.

Now chest to chest, supple muscle moving against supple muscle, a deliciously tantalizing sensation, Hawke slowly maneuvered them both until he could again settle his beautiful lover back against the counter. A thick strong thigh eased its way between Bucky's knees, pressing upwards lightly as Hawke deepened their kiss even more, tongue delving deep into Bucky's mouth to coil and twine with his.

Even though he burned to make love to this man, to kiss, stroke, and caress him in every way he could, prove that he was still beautiful to behold, he knew that they both needed to pace themselves. Passion and desire was a wonderful thing, but it could also be devastating, and neither of them needed to suffer any more pain.

Although, given Bucky's increasingly eager responses, "taking it slow" didn't seem to be first and foremost on either of their minds.

From:

endof_theline

He's pulled back against Hawke in such an enticing way, arms moving around bodies, skin against skin in exactly the way he was hoping for. He's never felt anything like this, but oh, he's absolutely turned on by it. A part of him feels like it's a shame that he's missed out all this time, but there wouldn't have been a chance for him before this. And it's alright, because he gets to do it with Hawke.

He's pressed against the counter, hands sliding up along the muscles of Hawke's back as he kisses the other man deeply, not hesitating to taste him fully. He doesn't hesitate with his arm anymore, even if he touches Hawke with that one much more gently than his real one. It still feels good. It feels right.

When Hawk's thighs press up against him, Bucky can't help but let out a deep, rumbling moan, even if it's swallowed up by the kiss- his body rocking forward to press in closer. It feels like everything is on fire, in such a delicious way and he realizes just how much he's been yearning for this kind of touch, this kind of feeling. It's all rolled up into the deepest kind of passion that he feels for this man.

From:

battlemaged

Oh, that was such a lovely sound. Bucky moaned directly into Hawke's mouth, prompting yet another low, returning growl. And he was squirming in the mage's arms, strong, solid body almost begging for a deeper touch. Hawke was only too happy to give it, heated hands sliding to Bucky's hips to pull him higher astride that muscled thigh, lifting his knee just enough to press tight and hard, a delicious friction that made Hawke's chest hitch and his own breath stutter.

Mouths moved against each other, tongues eagerly licking, coiling, tasting, and Hawke's head was very close to spiraling completely away with his good sense, but Bucky's responsiveness was just so fucking heady. As if he were starved for this...for any sort of affection, and affection could all too quickly erupt into an inferno of passion.

But Bucky wasn't idle - Hawke felt hands both cool and warm course up his back and the sensuous dichotomy of temperatures made him shudder, rolling his body to invite more of that contrasting touch. He licked at Bucky's sweet, sweet mouth, panting softly against the other man's mouth before sliding his lips to the thundering pulse in Bucky's neck, setting his teeth against the flushed flesh and laving it with the flat of his tongue.

From:

endof_theline

There's such a deep, intense arousal that runs through Bucky when Hawke's heated hands pull him that much tighter against him, his knee pressing up to cause friction against the tight bulge in his pants. It nearly takes his breath away, causing him to roll his hips forward just to get more of it, more of Hawke. He doesn't remember it ever being this tense before. Maybe it never was. His body really is aching for it.

His hands are definitely not idle, digging in as he drags up them up and down Hawke's back. With their deeper, all encompassing kisses, Bucky slides them even further down, grabbing at Hawke's ass just to pull him closer.

He doesn't remember being a loud person either, but when Hawke's teeth find his neck, nipping and kissing, he lets out a deep moan, letting his head fall back. He suddenly wishes he had a bed instead of just a couch, but that's as far as he can even think, before he tilts his head back to catch Hawke's lips in another deep, intense kiss.

From:

battlemaged

They ground together, powerful bodies moving against each other in such perfect symmetry, and Hawke dimly realized what a sight they must be: two large men gyrating like over-eager teenagers right in the middle of the kitchen, but he couldn't really care. Not when Bucky was licking at his mouth, moaning in that gorgeously lustful voice, and grabbing at him to pull him even closer, both of their trousers nicely tight and thick by now.

Those flesh-and-metal hands gripping his ass made his teeth sink a bit deeper into Bucky's skin, a surge of greedy white-hot want rolling beneath his skin, and Hawke sucked hard at the pulse beneath his mouth, leaving it only to latch his lips to Bucky's ear, tugging at the tender lobe while trying not to pant like a randy sailor. Hard to do, with an armful of such a delectable desire.

But then Bucky was angling again for his mouth, thrusting his agile tongue between Hawke's lips and that was enough to make the mage jerk in response, stumbling forward and knocking a knee against the closed counter door behind his lover. The sound made him snort in wry amusement, which evolved into a guttural chuckle against Bucky's hot open mouth. Unable to stifle his chortles, Hawke nevertheless rolled his groin against Bucky's front, rumbling through his mirth at the delicious friction, even through their layers.

"...see what you do to me, Bucky?" he quipped, blue eyes glinting brightly, a smirk curving his lips. A soft kiss, followed by the heated remark of, "I'd fuck you here and now, would you allow me, and spend the rest of the week proving just how beautiful you truly are." And if Bucky wished the same, then Hawke was more than willing to oblige.

From:

endof_theline

That's exactly what Bucky does feel like at the moment. A touch starved teenager, trying to get his hands all over his new lover. Wanting, being wanted- it's a heady feeling. One that both of them seem very much full of right now. He can practically feel the marks forming under Hawke's mouth- they'll heal up quicker than a normal person would, but they'll be there as a testament of their passion.

Bucky feels dizzy with this feeling, even as their kiss breaks and Hawke chuckles against his lips as they shift further against the counter. He can feel it pressing against him almost uncomfortably now, but he doesn't want to pull away from Hawke. He does shift a little though, letting out a small laugh of his own as they both try to make this work. It doesn't take much though, as Hawke's tight heat presses against him once again, pulling another moan from him that gets lost between their breathless kisses.

"It's what you're doing to me too. God, I've never felt this... this..." He doesn't even know how to finish that sentence. Doesn't even have to, with what Hawke says next. Bucky closes his eyes for a moment, licking his lips, then nods. He nods, but he also hesitantly opens his eyes, to look at the other man.

"I want that. I want you. But I've never done this before, so just-- go slow." Is that alright to say, he wonders? It is, he reminds himself, because he wouldn't be here with Hawke right now if that's not the kind of person he was. "I want you to fuck me."

From:

battlemaged

Yes, slow. Remember slow, Rowen? He truly hadn't come over tonight intending on this happening, but happen it had, and Hawke refused to be sorry for it. Maker's breath and Andraste's ass, never in life. This was all about Bucky, and their shared passion, their shared desire. So Hawke took a deep breath, then another, and rested his forehead again against Bucky's, smiling softly.

"Of course, love." Very slow. One step at a time. Even though the vision of Bucky Barnes beneath him, thighs spread, powerful body jolting with Hawke's hard thrusts as they both groaned, moaned, and cried their pleasure nearly had him weak at the knees. Soon, Hawke promised himself. Maker, very soon.

"First, though...kiss me again." Not at all an onerous chore, that one. And when their lips met, gentler this time, Hawke deliberately slipped his right hand beneath them and cupped Bucky's cock through his jeans, firmly squeezing, plumping, caressing. He knew it'd been a good long while since Bucky had experienced any sort of release, and this should rightly be step one.

Step two, later.

"...how does that feel?" Asked with his mouth still teasing against Bucky's agile tongue painting the soldier's lips as his fingers worked over rough denim.

From:

endof_theline

Bucky surely hadn't intended on his happening either, especially because of the mood he was in before he started talking to Rowen. But now, things feel better, he feels lighter, even with all the turmoil he was feeling inside of him. Now, it's only this. Their bodies pressed together, so achingly hard.

But Rowen's right about this as well- it's been a long time. Maybe longer than Rowen even realizes. It's been decades.

He smiles when Rowen asks to kiss him and he happily obliges, leaning in for a slow, soft one. He's alright with slowing this down in every single way as well, just to feel it. It's not a race- it's passion, but taking a moment to slow it down for both of them seems like a good idea. Especially because then he gets to feel exactly what Rowen's doing, fully and completely.

His hand, cupping him, squeezing at him- it makes Bucky moan into the kiss, hips rolling forward to catch more of that sweet friction. "Feels incredible. Jesus... Rowen. No one's touched me like this in a long time."