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Description
So I am Brock trash. I am also not sorry.
I wrote a little thing to go with this:

He didn’t know his name, he didn’t know his age or how long it was since the last time he slept in a bed or what even a grape tasted like. But he always remembered there was someone who cared for him, his name was always programmed right back into the asset’s head– Brock Rumlow. Someone who snuck him candy bars when others weren’t watching. Someone who would casually elbow him with a proud smirk to get the Soldier to laugh when he told a joke. Someone who would kiss him so gently it was as if the asset may shatter. The softest touches always were the ones the Soldier appreciated the most– and Brock was the softest of them all.
The asset liked candy, liked it so much that he’d often get sick on it whenever Brock was around. Brock always made sure to buy him kinds he’d never tasted. He’d even special order custom candies, international candies, anything the Soldier wanted, Brock would always get him.
“Why?” the asset asked as Brock gently pressed them against a wall, his fingers slowly creeping up the asset’s abs.
“I like it when your lips taste like sugar,” Brock whispered, voice low and husky, like dark chocolate with a splash of coffee.
“So it’s only so I taste good?” the asset asked between gentle kisses, kisses so light he wasn’t even sure Brock had kissed him.
“No,” Brock replied. “You’re sweet as sugar.” He kissed him light on the jaw, like a feather against silken skin, drunk on sunlight. “You sparkle like sugar.” He kissed the asset’s nose, light like the warm breeze on an early summer day. “And just like sugar, too much of you sometimes is a bad thing.” He scooped the Soldier’s lips into his, lapping his tongue out to run along those sugar-stained lips.
The asset giggled softly into the kiss. “Cause I kill people?”
“You don’t kill people,” Brock said, his eyes darkening as he stared at the asset with an intensity that made the Soldier want to cry. “Every life you take is my burden and mine alone. You’re as pure as sugar cane swaying in the sun. I take all your sins and you bear none.”
The asset lifted his arms above his head, chewing at his bottom lip. “So I’m your sugar?”
Brock barked out an amused laugh, his dark eyes shimmering in delight. “Yeah, Sugar. You are.” He flushed himself against the asset, pressing his lips softly against the asset’s, always asking for permission and letting the asset decide the pace to set. Always gentle. Always kind.
It was a fine line they walked and the asset knew it too well. This memory, like all others would one day be swept away in the swirling wind, just like crystals of sugar spilled from clumsy hands.

I am on tumblr!

Description
So I am Brock trash. I am also not sorry.
I wrote a little thing to go with this:

He didn’t know his name, he didn’t know his age or how long it was since the last time he slept in a bed or what even a grape tasted like. But he always remembered there was someone who cared for him, his name was always programmed right back into the asset’s head– Brock Rumlow. Someone who snuck him candy bars when others weren’t watching. Someone who would casually elbow him with a proud smirk to get the Soldier to laugh when he told a joke. Someone who would kiss him so gently it was as if the asset may shatter. The softest touches always were the ones the Soldier appreciated the most– and Brock was the softest of them all.
The asset liked candy, liked it so much that he’d often get sick on it whenever Brock was around. Brock always made sure to buy him kinds he’d never tasted. He’d even special order custom candies, international candies, anything the Soldier wanted, Brock would always get him.
“Why?” the asset asked as Brock gently pressed them against a wall, his fingers slowly creeping up the asset’s abs.
“I like it when your lips taste like sugar,” Brock whispered, voice low and husky, like dark chocolate with a splash of coffee.
“So it’s only so I taste good?” the asset asked between gentle kisses, kisses so light he wasn’t even sure Brock had kissed him.
“No,” Brock replied. “You’re sweet as sugar.” He kissed him light on the jaw, like a feather against silken skin, drunk on sunlight. “You sparkle like sugar.” He kissed the asset’s nose, light like the warm breeze on an early summer day. “And just like sugar, too much of you sometimes is a bad thing.” He scooped the Soldier’s lips into his, lapping his tongue out to run along those sugar-stained lips.
The asset giggled softly into the kiss. “Cause I kill people?”
“You don’t kill people,” Brock said, his eyes darkening as he stared at the asset with an intensity that made the Soldier want to cry. “Every life you take is my burden and mine alone. You’re as pure as sugar cane swaying in the sun. I take all your sins and you bear none.”
The asset lifted his arms above his head, chewing at his bottom lip. “So I’m your sugar?”
Brock barked out an amused laugh, his dark eyes shimmering in delight. “Yeah, Sugar. You are.” He flushed himself against the asset, pressing his lips softly against the asset’s, always asking for permission and letting the asset decide the pace to set. Always gentle. Always kind.
It was a fine line they walked and the asset knew it too well. This memory, like all others would one day be swept away in the swirling wind, just like crystals of sugar spilled from clumsy hands.

I am on tumblr!