A/N: Written for the marvelously magical fanfiction Jan 27th roll a drabble. My prompt was Bucky Barnes/Tom Riddle and romance. Not beta'd, so pardon any mistakes. Enjoy this bit of angst.
Disclaimer: All non-original characters, plot points, and information belong to those at Marvel Studios, Warner Brothers, & J.K. Rowling. The story, plot, and dialogue belong to me. I do not write for profit.
Nothing More
"You know, I'm not one for romance," Bucky began.
"Then stop talking," Tom hissed, tightening his grip on Bucky's hip as he fucked him from behind.
"But you know, I wouldn't mind a little sweet talk before we jump into fucking." Bucky looked over his shoulder and tried to read Tom's face.
Tom paused his movements, remaining fully inside of Bucky. "Don't make this into something it's not," he said, his voice full of warning.
Bucky wriggled his hips slightly. "I love fucking; don't get me wrong."
"Shut up," Tom commanded. His hand came down on Bucky's arse, smacking it hard. He enjoyed the way Bucky's body tightened around his cock in response.
Bucky took the hint and looked away from Tom. He gripped the sheets beneath him tightly as Tom began fucking him roughly once more.
Tom poured all of his anger into his thrusts, his fingers gripping Bucky's hips tight enough that he knew he'd leave marks. This was for fun - for release. There was nothing more to it.
Bucky was a distraction - the best kind. He had found the wounded warrior in an English pub one night, and that was all it took for Tom to realise that the Muggle man was just as twisted and fucked as he was.
Tom loved entrapping people in mind games, and it seemed that was all Bucky knew.
They worked together in the right kind of way, but it was only fucking. No strings attached.
But some nights, Tom felt like he was the only one that felt that way.
And that was dangerous.