And They Were Roommates [COMPLETED]

Bonus Chapter II

**Part 2 of 2**

You felt your body run hot, like you'd been thrown into an open fire. His face remained nonchalant as he put his own jacket on, took your hand and dragged you out of the restaurant.

Your mind was running at a hundred miles an hour as you jogged to keep up with him on the street. Did he just say what you thought he said? Was he actually going to do it? Your body was positively buzzing.

He let go of your hand as he opened the door to the building. How you'd gotten there so fast, you had no clue. Had you been daydreaming the whole time? He let you go in first, and as you started half running up the stairs, you heard him behind you. You walked along the hallway to your flat, reaching into your bag for your keys. Your heart was thumping. The silence was killing you.

It was exciting you.

You got to the door, put the key in, and struggled to unlock it. You could feel Bucky directly behind you, breathing as heavily as you were, waiting.

The second that the lock clicked, Bucky span you around.

Your mouth was dragged to his in an instant. His lips were soft, but his kiss was punishing. Like he'd been waiting to do it for days. You knew you had. He pushed you against the door, his tongue sliding over yours without letting you breathe, and he reached around you, twisting the door handle and opening the door.

Your hands flew to his neck as he walked you backwards, kissing you again and again and using his feet to kick the door shut behind him. His hands went to your waist, gripping you, making your body ignite in anticipation. His head moved and the kiss deepened, all of the air in your lungs being squeezed out of you as you tried to juggle kissing him back, not tripping over your feet, and trying to think of what you needed to do with your hands.

You decided to put your hands in his hair. Tugging on it. He rewarded you with a growl, rumbling from his throat and vibrating against your lips. You gasped into his mouth, your body arching in response. You could feel his hands on you, round your back, your waist, your hips, your stomach. You loved it.

"This fucking dress." He mumbled, his hands moving more urgently. "Off."

Oh, that's why his hands were all over you. He was trying to find the zip. You pulled back from his lips a little, both of your heavy breaths falling into the air between you, and you reached up the side of the dress, slowly dragging the zip down, his hands falling to your hips as your dress peeled apart and showed your ribs.

As soon as you reached the end of the zip, his hands were on your shoulders, pulling the straps down, bunching the material at your hips, then pushing you backwards again so you stepped out of it. His lips reattached to yours, his tongue already begging for entrance, and you barely resisted. His hands slid around your back, open palmed and feeling your soft skin under his fingers.

Your back hit another door. You opened your eyes briefly as his mouth trailed down your neck in a carnal way, his teeth leading the onslaught. You didn't care.

You were against your bedroom door.

You swallowed, thickly, from the realisation that you had both jumped from patient, distanced dating, to wanting to rip each other's clothes off.

"I...I thought we were going slow." You breathed into the air, and you felt his lips stretch into a smile on your collarbone. He moved his head back up to you, his lips ghosting over yours, noses bumping against each other.

"Your behaviour at dinner told me otherwise." He replied, his voice low, and sinful.

"But what...what about ..."