Main characters: Steve, Bucky
Referenced characters: N/a
Summary: Tiny as he is, it feels like Steve surrounds him when they're like this, and Bucky loves it.
Notes: Long time no post, I know. I might be more reliably found posting tiny ficbits on tumblr, here, but honestly, I'm not writing that regularly anymore.
Bucky can’t believe the way Steve — tiny Steve, ribs and hipbones showing through the skin — surrounds him like this, pressing him down into the bed. He’s not heavy, but it’s enough to make Bucky feel, well, safe. Safe, even while Steve’s opening him up and pushing inside him and changing the whole world with how brilliant this is, how obvious it is that this is right, that they’re right, that there’s nothing at all wrong with them because nothing bad could feel like this. Bucky feels holy, sanctified by the way Steve’s lips brush the back of his neck, by the push of Steve inside him and the way he’s opening up, by the way Steve’s quick breaths shiver over his skin.
It’s amazing, and Bucky is never going to forget this. Even if this is the only time, he knows he’ll remember the feel of Steve’s body, the touch of him.
Next time, he’s gonna ask to see Steve’s face while they do it, so he can memorise it, so that even if he dies under bombardment out there in the war, Steve’s safe inside where nothing can ever rip him out. He’s gonna burn it into his mind so that if there was nothing else left, not even Steve’s name, his face would be there, and how it looks when he comes inside of Bucky. This was originally posted here, on Dreamwidth. I would prefer people to comment and subscribe to me there, if you already have an account; I'll happily share Dreamwidth invites, if you want to make an account. Comments aren't disabled here on LJ, though.