In all his years, Bucky’s never known anyone to actually match his ardor, guide alongside and share the effort needed to continue and deepen. Even when exploring, he’d often carried the bulk of the burden, which he had never minded doing (it was expected anyway, chivalry and all), but that he doesn’t need to do so here and now is starkly new and stimulating by contrast.

He sighs between kisses and short breaths, tension in his shoulders draining away, and his left hand carefully finds Henry’s side, sliding around and cupping his back rather than grasping on as Bucky is well aware of needing to be careful with the metal limb whenever using it with anything that isn’t stiff like the metal of his knife.

Feeling Henry’s tongue brush against him, he feels a tad more daring. Eyes peeking open, he parts his lips further, tongue dipping out to trace along the gap of Henry’s lips. The invitation for Henry to continue on is clear.