Bucky is pretty sure he's never been kissed before like that in his life - never, not even when he and Steve first started this... whatever it is they're doing, and maybe not even when Steve had said he was going to leave. Not even when Steve decided, later, to stay. None of those kisses were like this, trying to devour him whole, coaxing him easily to give himself over, to press closer, to wish for a crazy second that they didn't have to be in two separate bodies, that they could just always be touching, that they would never have to break apart.

The only thing that breaks him out of it, eventually, is Steve's low voice, and the way he nudges Bucky back against the tree, gets him to put his feet on the ground -

So that Steve can sink down there in front of him.

Holy shit, the thrill that goes through him, at the sight of Steve down there... it's sinful, and it's the best thing Bucky's possibly ever seen in his entire goddamned life. His hands fall away for a second, fingers curling against the bark of the tree, then digging into it as Steve's lips, and then his tongue, hot and wet, drag over the fabric of his underwear, and his cock goddamn jumps against the touch as his head tips back and he lets out a quiet, desperate moan.

"Yeah, Steve," he mumbles, sounding a little drunk, voice dropping a little and a slow, breathless laugh pushing past his lips. "God, yeah - yeah, it's fine, but you really should - still too much in the way - "

Maybe he's a little demanding, but he feels like he's gonna pop if he has to keep putting up with this torture, with a layer of fabric still between them.