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Summary
“Are you numb, Bucky?” asks Gale, with a tinge of sadness in his voice. “If you are, why won’t you just talk to me?”
“I can’t get the words out,” John admits weakly.
“So what, you want me to throw you about, force them out?”
A hook catches at his stomach and yanks, almost knocking him off his feet. Yes, that’s exactly what he needs. If they were back at base, or in flight school, he’d fall to his knees with a giddy smile and ask to suck cock, or to be stepped on, and Gale would laugh and oblige. But now, there’s something coiled deep inside him, an incessant need to be contrary, to get both him and Buck to feel. To feel human again.
“You can try, I guess,” he says eventually, his throat tight.
Gale goes stiff and rolls his shoulders. “You want another fight?”
“I wanna see if you still have it in you. Can you get me flat on my back? Or are you going to end up on yours?”
Or, dirty stalag fucking.