[ Steve hardly expects the force of the pull, no less to be pulled in instead of pushed away. It's the unexpectedness of it all that leaves him stumbling forward, free hand reaching for the counter behind Zemo to brace himself, though it does little good to prevent the closing of distance, of the way he's near-flush with the other boy, a hand on the counter just outside the tantalizing slope of his waist.
(What would it be like to grab him here, to press broad palms and trace the slim curvature of his waist, all the while pressing him back, back, back against the counter to - )
Steve's eyes flicker to Zemo's lips for a fraction of a second too long, where some nutella remains despite the absolutely naughty swipe of his tongue previous. He thinks for a moment he could lean in and clean up the mess himself, and the thought alone makes fire burn high into his cheeks. It's difficult to suppress the way warmth pools low in his belly, a warning, but something else: curiosity, want.
And Steve will see that coquettish little expression in his dreams for the way Zemo looks up through his lashes at him. He huffs a laugh, though it's tighter than before. ]
While I can? Pretty sure you're the one on enemy soil, Helmut. But maybe we can come to a truce?
[ Maybe. He shouldn't be in this predicament to begin with. Should have shooed the other boy out or gotten dressed instead of entertaining this game. But he's stubborn, of course, and his heels dug in long, long ago. So he leans in, pressing their chests flush as he reaches around him for the jar of nutella, coming back only to press the jar where his own body had been. ]
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(What would it be like to grab him here, to press broad palms and trace the slim curvature of his waist, all the while pressing him back, back, back against the counter to - )
Steve's eyes flicker to Zemo's lips for a fraction of a second too long, where some nutella remains despite the absolutely naughty swipe of his tongue previous. He thinks for a moment he could lean in and clean up the mess himself, and the thought alone makes fire burn high into his cheeks. It's difficult to suppress the way warmth pools low in his belly, a warning, but something else: curiosity, want.
And Steve will see that coquettish little expression in his dreams for the way Zemo looks up through his lashes at him. He huffs a laugh, though it's tighter than before. ]
While I can? Pretty sure you're the one on enemy soil, Helmut. But maybe we can come to a truce?
[ Maybe. He shouldn't be in this predicament to begin with. Should have shooed the other boy out or gotten dressed instead of entertaining this game. But he's stubborn, of course, and his heels dug in long, long ago. So he leans in, pressing their chests flush as he reaches around him for the jar of nutella, coming back only to press the jar where his own body had been. ]
What do you say? I'll surrender first.