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Perfumed Existence

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"So, how do you want me?" Bucky asked him, walking back into the room Steve had turned into a makeshift art studio wearing nothing but a pair of boxers that sat teasingly low on his hips, and Steve couldn't help but think on your back on the bed and spread wide.

He reached over to pluck one of the sunflowers out of the vase he'd been using for his still life practice and handed it to Bucky. He had to clear his throat before he could answer. "Just over here by the window. Turn so the light hits your right side."

It would be easier to capture the lower diffuse gleam of the left arm without the sun shining directly on it and making it reflect the light harshly.

Bucky grinned at him and followed directions. "Like this?"

He posed with his hips cocked and the flower draped over his chest. The petals just brushed at his chin, and he smirked at Steve knowingly.

"Like that is fine, yeah." Steve had to bite back a groan as he grabbed for his phone to snap a quick photo for later reference. He checked it to make sure it was focused properly, then picked up his pencils and started blocking in the lines of the sketch that would turn into a painting over the course of the next couple of weeks.

Bucky's body language shifted just slightly, getting flirtier somehow. "Or is this better?" he asked, drawing the petals of the flower over the stubble on his cheek, down his neck, and over his sternum.

Steve wasn't sure how he managed to keep his hand from spasming and ruining his sketch, and he couldn't quite bite back the strangled sound he made. "Jesus, Buck."

What a fucking tease.

Resolving to finish his sketch yesterday and haul Bucky into their bed, Steve bit at his lip as Bucky laughed at him and forced himself to focus.

As soon as he had Bucky pinned under him, Steve would have to show him exactly what the consequences of teasing like that were.

It would make for a damned good way to spend the afternoon.