Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Serbia was a misdirection.

James realized it while lying in bed in his hotel room in Belgrade, with Steve softly snoring into the pillow next to him. He hadn’t begrudged Steve the nap; after all, James had put him through the paces during their “break.” A sleeping Steve granted him the solitude to ponder the Serbian site’s improbability. It had no printed records of its location in any of the files they had collected. Every mention of the site was shrouded in ambiguity. HYDRA may have been a complex, secretive organization, but they wouldn’t have been so deliberately obtuse within their higher ranks. James had accessed the highest levels of HYDRA’s records systems and found nothing but allusions. It made no sense.

Until it did.

James was stroking Steve’s bare hip when he suddenly remembered a file that had bothered him. It was an invoice that listed budgets and expenses for HYDRA’s locations throughout Eastern Europe. The sites in Sarajevo, Budapest, Salzburg, and Kaunas were there, among others. The Serbian site was also there but without a named city or town. At that point, James had read files nonstop for hours and wasn’t as sharp as usual; it was the main reason Steve had insisted on the “break” in the first place. Still, something about that invoice had irked him. James followed the hunch, getting out of bed and grabbing the manila folder he and Steve had accidentally knocked on the floor earlier. Sitting at the desk, he quickly found the invoice and the discrepancy. The Serbian site had duplicate financial records as another site in Kaliningrad. James previously thought it was a coincidence. A refreshed brain reminded him that HYDRA taught him never to trust coincidences.

After James woke Steve up and dealt with his irritated yawning, the two men poured through the Salzburg files again, focusing on Kaliningrad. They soon confirmed that Kaliningrad was the HYDRA stronghold they had been looking for. It was a well-funded, heavily stocked, and fortified location that was likely the central piece of HYDRA’s network of regional headquarters. The files were compelling, but James knew Kaliningrad was the right location because of the itch he felt at the base of his skull, the same one he felt when he entered the Sarajevo base for the first time. It was a mild but palpable suggestion that he had been there before. James kept it to himself, even when Steve looked at him with a gleam in his eyes and a smile that screamed, “I told you so.” 

James and Steve returned to Vienna the following evening. They had planned to fly to Kaunas and drive the four hours to Kaliningrad to avoid tipping off any HYDRA operatives tracking flight logs in and out of the oblast. Unfortunately, that plan appeared to be ruined when James opened the door, and they saw Natasha sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of steaming-hot coffee and reading on her tablet.

“You’re back,” Natasha said nonchalantly, not looking up from the screen to see James’s aggravated face and Steve’s shocked one.

“Nat, what are you doing here?” Steve asked, stepping ahead of James to head off a confrontation. “How did you get in?”

Natasha looked up and smiled at Steve. “Glad to see you’re looking so…refreshed, Steve.” Her eyes shifted to James. “I guess you guys had a good trip.”

“You didn’t answer his question,” James said, closing the door and standing next to Steve, bumping against Steve’s arm that was trying to block him.

“Because Steve already knows the answer,” Natasha said. “It’s probably the same method you use whenever you need to break in somewhere.”

“Nat…”

“What are you doing here?” James asked, pushing Steve’s arm out of the way and walking to the chair opposite Natasha, bracing his hands against it.

Natasha bent to the side, drawing James’s attention to the bag sitting against her chair. She pulled out another tablet and slid it across the table. James stopped it with his metal hand. Steve looked only slightly confused, giving James the sneaking suspicion that he knew the purpose of the device. That was more than enough to set him on edge.

“That tablet has all the KGB files on HYDRA that I could pull,” Natasha said. “Whatever they know, you both know as well.”

James fixed Steve with an ice-cold stare. “What does she know?”

Before Steve could fluster through a response, Natasha interjected, saying, “He asked me if I had any knowledge or contacts with information about HYDRA’s activities in Europe. He was very vague, unhelpfully so. He didn’t betray your confidence if you’re worried about that.”

“I thought she could help,” Steve said.

“And even if Steve hadn’t asked,” Natasha said. “I probably would’ve gleaned that you needed help anyway.”

“Because you’re still surveilling him, aren’t you?” James asked.

“It’s either me or Tony,” Natasha replied, catching Steve’s expression waver between indignation and sheepishness. “And trust me, you don’t want Tony knowing what you boys are up to.”

“That’s not helping, Nat,” Steve said.

“But that will.” Natasha tapped at the table, pointing at the tablet. “The device is unregistered and has multi-layered encryption, so it can’t be tracked. There should be enough to get at least you started on your next target.”

“Anything that stuck out to you?” Steve asked. “Anything topline we should know?”

“Not particularly,” Natasha answered. “Just that HYDRA’s network was more extensive than I think either of us realized. It’s embedded in several government structures, not just the States.”

Steve’s easy camaraderie with Natasha defied James’s understanding. He knew Steve trusted her, that trust running so deep that he let his guard down with her during his breakdown. What annoyed James was that Steve didn’t know everything about Natasha. As far as James knew, she hadn’t disclosed their shared past, his time as her trainer and lover. The secret loomed large in the room, with James and Natasha quietly acknowledging its existence with knowing, weary glances while Steve stood there utterly oblivious. James didn’t mind having secrets, but he felt oddly conflicted. He didn’t like how his and Natasha’s shared past left Steve vulnerable, nor did he like how little he knew about it himself. Even with their messy entanglements, James figured he could at least extract critical information from Natasha, especially the pieces that could fill the holes in his memory.

“Anything about Kaliningrad in there?” James asked.

Natasha’s face of winking neutrality slipped for a quarter of a second. “Kaliningrad?”

Steve silently sought James’s permission to disclose what they had learned. When James nodded, he said, “We learned that Kaliningrad might be one of the main HYDRA sites. They were trying to bury its existence, but we have enough proof that it’s the real deal.”

“I see,” Natasha said, her impassive tone irking James.

“What do you know, Widow?” James asked.

“Buck!” Steve exclaimed, coming up next to him.

“It’s alright, Steve,” Natasha said, nonplussed. “Do you want to do this now, James?”

James narrowed his eyes and glanced at Steve, who looked confused. “What do you know about Kaliningrad?”

“Kaliningrad was the primary liaison between HYDRA and the KGB, specifically the Red Room,” Natasha answered, making James’s nip of familiarity grow into a full-blown throbbing at the base of his brain. 

“The Red Room?” Steve asked. “They worked with HYDRA?”

“It was transactional,” Natasha explained. “HYDRA had skills that the Red Room needed. They likely needed the KGB’s financial resources.”

James knew that Steve sensed that he and Natasha were withholding something. He could see Steve wanting to ask but resisting. He also saw Steve’s desire for one of them to break the suspense of him not knowing. James saw discomfort flicker in Natasha’s expression, but she appeared generally fine to tell Steve nothing. They were effectively stuck in a stalemate, trading glances and steady breaths, waiting for someone to break the building tension.

James shook his head to rid himself of the instinct to ditch the uncomfortable scenario. “I was there.”

“Where?” Steve asked.

“The Red Room.” James looked down at the tablet, preferring the impartial territory of an inactive screen over either Steve's or Natasha’s faces. “I don’t remember much, barely any of it, but I was there. I trained the Widows.”

Steve dropped his hand from James’s shoulder and turned his attention to Natasha. “Nat? He trained you?”

“Yes,” Natasha said. “For six months.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Steve asked, and James didn’t know to whom the question was directed.

Natasha answered first. “Before I knew who he was to you? It didn’t make much of a difference. After…it wasn’t my truth to tell. It was his.”

Steve looked at James and opened his mouth to say something but shut it after a second. He asked Natasha, “So…Bucky taught you how to fight?”

“Yes,” Natasha said. “He was a good teacher.” Her eyes openly asked James if she should continue. He wasn’t keen on it, but Steve’s growing discomfort troubled him more than whatever he felt.

“Say the rest,” James said.

“Can one of you please tell me what’s happening here?” Steve asked, exasperated.

“We were lovers,” Natasha said plainly.

The air in the apartment dissipated as Natasha’s words sunk in. Steve looked stunned, his eyes wide and his face draining of color. Seeing Steve’s reaction visibly affected Natasha, her neutral face conveying genuine concern. James had no idea how to feel or what to expect from Steve. All the uncharted territory they had crossed together seemed to pale in comparison.

“You…” Steve finally spoke, his voice thin and flat. “You two…” He turned to James. “Do you…remember…?”

“Not really,” James said. “Just a few flashes but nothing concrete.”

Steve turned to Natasha, who rebuilt her neutral expression. His expression, on the other hand, was a mess of conflict. “Did you…love him?”

“No,” Natasha said too quickly. “That’s not what we were about.”

“What were you, then?” Steve asked.

“It was a release valve,” Natasha explained. “A way to burn off tension after training and missions. There weren’t many opportunities to…decompress. We found that in each other and didn’t try for anything more.” She glanced at James. “Neither of us was emotionally available enough for more.”

James had no problem believing that; he barely had enough emotional real estate for whatever he shared with Steve. Natasha’s answer still didn’t feel complete, and James wasn’t sure whose feelings she might’ve been trying to spare: his, Steve’s, or her own. Whatever the reason for her subterfuge, she held the line, at least for Steve’s sake. James could see a few feet past her wall of passive indifference. 

“Was I stationed in Kaliningrad?” James asked. “Before I came to the Red Room.”

“Most likely,” Natasha said. “I don’t know for sure. Only Tatiana would know for sure, and she’s dead.”

“Tatiana?” Steve asked.

“The headmistress,” Natasha said. “She arranged James’s transfer to the Red Room. She considered it a rescue.”

Steve looked at James, recognition crossing his face. “Was that…the woman who…took care of you?”

“You told him about that?” Natasha asked James, looking genuinely surprised.

“You sound like he shouldn’t have,” Steve muttered, rubbing his forehead.

“She was,” James answered Steve’s initial question. “She was the one who took me in after what…was done to me.” He felt his lungs rattle and tried not to let the memory resurface in front of Steve and Natasha.

“Did what you two have…” The edges of Steve’s voice were dipped in disgust. “Was it consensual? You weren’t forced into it? By HYDRA or the KGB?”

“No one forced us,” Natasha said. “Fraternization was frowned upon in the Red Room. There was no violence or abuse, either. In terms of consent, it’s more complicated. James didn’t…doesn’t…remember who he was, so it wasn’t the best circumstance. But for what we knew of each other, it was consensual.”

Steve sat down in the empty chair between James and Natasha. He looked marginally less disturbed, and James saw his mind at work, trying to stitch together what he had learned into something that made sense to him. 

“So what’s your plan?” Natasha asked.

With Steve still lost in his thoughts, James answered. “We’re going to Kaliningrad as soon as we can.”

“Do you think that’s wise?” Natasha looked skeptical. “If Kaliningrad is as important as you say, I don’t think it’s a quick in-and-out mission.”

“We handled Sarajevo just fine,” James said. “Although you already knew that, didn’t you? I’m sure you’ll know how we do in Kaliningrad since you have no sense of boundaries.”

“Buck…” Steve said with a grimace.

“As long as Steve’s with you, he needs someone looking out for him,” Natasha said. “That’s non-negotiable.”

“He has someone looking out for him,” James said, flames of possession lapping against the wall of his stomach.

“Let me rephrase,” Natasha countered. “He needs someone looking out for him who isn’t hopelessly compromised.”

“Go to hell,” James growled low in his throat.

“Can you both please stop?” Steve said with a frustrated edge. “This isn’t helping.”

Natasha stood from her chair and walked her coffee cup to the sink, emptying the remaining liquid down the drain and leaving the cup. Walking back to the table and grabbing her bag off the floor, she asked, “What do you want me to tell the team, Steve?” 

“I’m running down a lead on HYDRA,” Steve said. “Sam knows what I’m doing here.”

“I doubt he knows everything,” Natasha said as she looked pointedly at James.

“He knows enough,” Steve said with a sigh. “Pretty sure Thor is off-world somewhere, and I think Bruce is lecturing at a school or something? The less Tony knows about what I’m doing, the better.”

“Oh, he’d get a kick out of this.” Natasha waved her fingers at Steve and James, and the beginnings of a blush filled Steve’s cheeks. 

“I appreciate your discretion,” Steve said, smiling through his faint embarrassment, shooting a quick, lowered-eye glance at James.

“I’ll hang around town a few days, in case you need me,” Natasha said. “You’ll let me know if you do, right?”

“What’s the point?” James asked. “We all know you have his clothes and phone bugged.”

“Don’t forget his shield,” Natasha quipped, walking over to Steve and placing her hand on his shoulder. “Be careful, alright?”

“I will. Thanks, Nat.”

Natasha bent down and placed a soft kiss on Steve’s forehead, looking James in the eye as she did. He did his best to show indifference but felt a burning instinct to snatch her back from Steve. She pulled back and smirked at them, walking past James to the door. “Good night, James.”

“You’re welcome to stay and watch while I fuck him all over the apartment,” James said as he heard Natasha open the door. “It’s probably easier than listening to the recording.”

“Bucky!” Steve gasped.

“It’s alright, Steve,” Natasha said. “Appreciate the offer, but I’ll leave you two to it. And if I change my mind, I’ll just play the tape from Vienna and let my imagination fill in the gaps. Night, boys.”

The door closed behind Natasha, and James let out a loud groan. He plopped himself in the chair and put his forehead into his hand, irritated that he allowed her to have the last word.

“I hope you know that you had that coming,” Steve said.

“Fuck off, Steve.”

Steve rolled his eyes and got up from the chair. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

James looked up at Steve. “Tomorrow?”

“You still want to fly to Kaunas, right?” Steve asked. “I can get the tickets and everything. It’s no problem.”

“Where are you going, Steve?”

“Um…” Steve blinked in confusion. “I should probably go check into my room before it’s too late.”

“And why would you do that?”

“Because…I need to sleep?”

“You can sleep here,” James said. “What are you talking about?”

“I…um…” Steve looked almost as stunned as he was not too long ago. “You want me to stay here?”

“This place has a spare room,” James replied. “You know that, right?”

Steve looked to his left down the hallway. “I mean, I never really thought about it. We’ve only been out here, and the bedroom, and the bathroom.”

“What did you think that room was for?” James asked.

“An office? Storage?”

“Fucking hell, Steve,” James said, rolling his eyes.

“Where else would you keep all of the files and money you’ve taken from HYDRA?” Steve asked.

“The multiple safe deposit boxes and bank accounts I have across the continent would be a good place to start,” James said.

“Oh…” Steve said.

“It’s a spare bedroom,” James explained. “It’s yours, whenever you want or need it. It doesn’t make sense for you to stay in a hotel and come back and forth here, does it?” 

“I would’ve done it,” Steve said. “We never talked about me staying here with you, you know? I wouldn’t want to assume... even though…”

“I’ve fucked you all over the apartment?” James finished for Steve.

“You’re such a jerk,” Steve murmured.

“And you think too much,” James said. “The room is yours, alright?”

“I appreciate it, I do,” Steve said with a slight smile. “It’s just…couldn’t I stay with you? In your room?”

“No.” James regretted his blunt answer, especially seeing Steve’s slowly deflating look, accompanied by a timid “Oh.”

“It’s not that I don’t want you to,” James added.

“Bucky, you don’t have to spare my feelings,” Steve said sadly. “I get it.”

“No, you don’t.” James took a deep breath as he sought out the words. “I have nightmares. Bad ones.”

“I get that,” Steve said. “So do I.”

“I’ve seen you sleep. It’s not the same, nowhere near it.”

“So tell me then.”

“My body acts on its own when I sleep,” James explained carefully, with half a beat between words. “I guess it’s reacting to whatever’s happening in my head. It’s usually bad. Always bad, really. Sometimes, I’ll wake up and not know how I got there.”

“Like sleepwalking?” Steve asked.

“I guess,” James said with a short nod. “I’ve woken up in different rooms and on a rooftop once. I’ve had weapons in my head. One time, I had—” He stopped.

“What?”

“I had a knife to my neck,” James said, the memory crystallizing in his mind. “It was a memory…of what a handler made me do, to test me, torture me. When I woke up, I had already…” He tilted his head to the right and raised a metal finger to his neck, pointing out the pale, thin mark.

”Jesus.” Steve moved off the chair onto his knees next to James, his finger brushing against the scar. 

“I almost offed myself,” James said. “And I wouldn’t have even known it if I hadn’t woken up when I did.”

Steve dropped his hand from James’s neck but stayed on the floor. “When? When did this happen?”

“Does it matter?” James asked.

“Yeah, Buck, it does. To me.”

“Amsterdam,” James said.

“Is that why my trail on you suddenly went cold?” Steve asked.

“Indirectly.” James thought about how close Steve had gotten to finding him. Steve had only gotten the building wrong; James was staying in the building across the street. “I decided then that the cat-and-mouse game had gone too long.”

“It wasn’t a game to me,” Steve said. “I wanted to find you, to make sure you were alright.”

“I wasn’t alright,” James admitted. “And I’m still not. My body is on autopilot when I sleep. I don’t have control over it. Whatever my nightmare is, that’s in control.”

“And you think you might hurt me,” Steve said, following James to his logical conclusion.

“I will hurt you,” James corrected. “It’s a fact. You could be asleep next to me, and I’ll be stuck in a nightmare, and my body won’t stop until you’re dead. Or I wake up, and you’re half-dead. That’s too much of a risk.”

Steve frowned. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

”I had a handler in Kaunas,” James explained. “Just some low-level guy. I was on a mission where I had to be out of ice for a night. When I woke up the next morning, he was dead at my feet, his throat slashed. His commander covered it up. He was one of the good ones, believe it or not.”

“I don’t,” Steve said. “I don’t see how anyone could hurt you like that and be good.”

”It’s relative.” James ignored Steve’s skepticism. “There were plenty of depraved fucks. I had my fair share, more than my fair share of them. Others were just following orders and didn’t take pleasure in treating me like a toy. He was one of them.”

“He still—”

“I don’t expect you to get it,” James interrupted. “I don’t think I get it. Maybe I’m missing some block of time where he tortured me to near death. But from what I remember, he was fine. Decent enough.”

“Okay, Buck.” Steve didn’t look convinced.

“I’m not putting you in a position that could hurt you,” James said emphatically. “Period.”

“You forget that I can take you,” Steve said, trying to lighten the mood.

“I wouldn’t come back from that,” James said, wanting Steve to feel the words hanging in the air. “It’ll destroy me. Whatever I’ve become, whatever you pulled out of me, it would vanish. There wouldn’t be anything left but him .” It was his first time referring to the Asset as a separate entity, an attempt at distance he wasn’t sure he had a right to.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Steve said, confidence sparkling in his eyes. “But I get it. I won’t push.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” James repeated, scoffing.

“So,” Steve started, putting his hand on James’s knee, making him startle. “What do I do if I hear you in the middle of the night and you’re in the middle of a nightmare?”

“You do nothing.”

Steve shook his head. “You’re not serious.”

“If I don’t want to share a bed with you, why would you think I’d want you to come into my room when I’m going through that? What sense does that make?”

“You can’t expect me to listen to you in distress and do nothing,” Steve said.

“So much for not pushing.”

“Isn’t there some way to wake you up without triggering you? Anything?”

“It’s not like I’ve tested it, Steve,” James said, exasperation bleeding into his tone. “And I’m not really trying to.”

“We’re going to have to eventually,” Steve said. “Because just like you refuse to hurt me, I refuse to let you hurt yourself.”

James rolled his eyes and grumbled, “You’re annoying. You know that, right?”

“Right back at ya, Buck,” Steve said, quirking his eyebrow in that way that James found too endearing for his own good.

“For now,” James sighed. “Just stay away. Keep your distance. If you wanna keep an eye on me, don’t get close. It’s not like I sleep much, so it may not even matter.”

“I do know a guy–”

“I swear, Steve,” James cut him off. “If you even think of mentioning one of your Avengers, I will put your head through a wall.”

“I can think of better things I could be doing with my head,” Steve said, that quirked eyebrow accompanied by a naughtier-than-expected smirk.

“Really, Steve? Now, of all times? You want it now?”

Steve grabbed the kitchen chair and tilted it out from underneath the table. He placed his hands on James’s thighs and spread them, sliding himself between them. Steve pressed his spread fingers into the firm muscles, making James exhale.

“I don’t not want it now,” Steve said, his voice significantly more heated as he squeezed James’s thighs.

“Hmmm.” 

Steve leered in response to James’s subtly bemused reaction. “What?”

“How much of this is about me and the Widow?” James asked.

“I…” Steve’s hands pressed more firmly into James’s thighs. “I don’t know how I feel about that if I’m being honest.”

“If it makes you feel better, neither do I.”

“It doesn’t,” Steve said. “When did you know? About you and Natasha?”

“She told me at the safe house,” James answered.

“And you don’t remember a thing?”

“Just a flash of us having sex,” James said. “In a gym. I guess where we trained?”

“And nothing else?”

“If I remembered something else, I would’ve said so.” James could see the unease on Steve’s face. “What is it, Steve?”

“It’s…” Steve started. “I just…I hate that you didn’t have control of yourself, that you don’t remember something like that, how being with her made you feel.”

“You think I was in love with her or something?” James asked.

“Possibly,” Steve said. “If your relationship was consensual and lasted as long as it did, something had to have come from it, right?”

“You’re asking the wrong person,” James said. “And the Widow said it wasn’t that.”

“Natasha…I think she was trying to be kind,” Steve said, shaking his head. “Trying to spare my feelings.”

James sighed pointedly. “Your life would be so much better if you stopped putting yourself at the center of everything and making yourself responsible for other people’s choices.”

“I guess I can’t help it,” Steve said. “Force of habit.”

“Force of being Captain America,” James added, putting his metal hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I told you before. I don’t need or want that from you.”

Steve nodded. “I know.”

“And yet…” James tilted his head. “You’re jealous?”

“It’s hard to be jealous of something you don’t remember,” Steve offered. “That would be silly.”

“It would be,” James agreed.

“Plus, you barely tolerate her,” Steve said. “It’s not like you’re gonna…you know…”

“Fuck her all over the apartment?” James enjoyed the quick flush coloring Steve’s face.

“Shut up, Bucky.”

“To be fair, I barely tolerated Victor, and we still had sex,” James teased. “Or did you forget me jerking him off while he rode your dick?”

Steve blushed harder, his mouth forming a straight line. “That’s not gonna work, Buck.”

“What?” James asked. “You embarrassed by all the sex you’ve been having? Me playing with your humiliation kink?”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It means…” James leaned forward and carded his metal fingers through the hair on the back of Steve’s head. “Getting embarrassed turns you on. You being inexperienced, knowing someone can tap into that gets you hot.”

“Oh…” Steve said. “You really enjoy lording your knowledge of sex over me, don’t you?”

“Mmmhmm,” James hummed. “Damn right, I do. Seeing your cheeks, the ones on your face, by the way, pink up? It's always worth the price of admission.

“Jerk,” Steve huffed. 

James rolled his eyes at Steve’s petulance. “Anyway, I don’t think you’re jealous as much as curious.”

“Curious about what?”

“You’re curious about how we were together,” James said, sliding his hand down to gently grab Steve’s neck. “Whether it was different to how I am with you.”

“You don’t remember anyway,” Steve said after swallowing a moan.

“Yeah, but your imagination can fill in the gaps. You’re imagining if I was soft and gentle with her or if we had it rough. You’re thinking about us fucking on that mat right now.”

“I’m not,” Steve said unconvincingly.

“No?” James leaned back in the chair but pulled Steve forward by his neck, cradling his torso with his thighs. “Maybe something else, then. Maybe you’re thinking about where you’d fit. How we might fuck you together.”

“I wouldn’t…” Steve balked.

“You’re gonna kneel there between my legs, eyeing my dick, and tell me you’ve never once jerked off thinking about the Widow?”

“Her name is Natasha, and…I mean…” Steve looked down, his blush refreshing. “Um…sometimes…? Shut up, Bucky.”

“Mmhmm.” James massaged the top of Steve’s back, his metal fingers loosening the knot at the base of his neck. “I bet you think about Natasha’s head between your legs, sucking you down, red hair bouncing. How many times did that make you come, Stevie?”

“How many times did you come with her head between yours?” Steve shot back.

“Six months worth, apparently,” James said, unbothered by Steve’s desperate little retort. “For you? I bet it was a few times, and then you’d get all red and embarrassed afterward, your eyes crinkling like they do after you come.”

“They do not,” Steve huffed.

“Oh, they do,” James said, leaning in and tapping the corner of Steve’s right eye. “Right here.”

“I hate you,” Steve muttered, although he leaned back into the firm pressure of James’s hand.

“And yet, you’re thinking about it right now, aren’t you Stevie?” James asked, smirking. “What are you doing in your head? Are you jerking off watching us fuck? Or are you in the middle? Us worshiping you?”

“You’re such a jerk,” Steve moaned.

“Who’s sucking on your tits, Stevie?” James asked, chuckling as Steve’s eyes glossed over in lusty shock. “Me or her? It’s me, isn’t it? You know much I like sucking and tasting them. I’d fight her for it, and I’d win.”

“Bucky…” Steve let out a soft pant.

“So what’s she doing if I’m sucking on these?” James cupped Steve’s clothed left pec in his flesh hand, squeezing and making him whine. “Sounded like she likes your ass. Is that it? Is she eating your ass while I suck on your tits? She biting on those fat, round cheeks of yours?”

“Oh fuck…”

“Or maybe she’d fuck you,” James said, his words coming out harsh and hot. “Shove a couple of fingers up your ass, press right up on your spot, huh? Or…”

James stood from the chair abruptly, looking down at Steve swaying slightly on his knees. Steve instinctively went for James’s belt buckle, but James slapped his hands away. 

“Be good and wait here,” James ordered. “Don’t move.”

James entered the master bedroom and went to the bedside table, grabbing the rectangular black box and the bottle of lube from the open compartment. When he returned to the kitchen, Steve was still on his knees, leaning on the chair, taking slow breaths to calm himself down. It was a complete waste of time, James thought to himself, and he couldn’t wait to show Steve why.

“Stevie?” James called out.

Steve locked his eyes on the black box when he turned his head. He followed James as he sat back in the chair, placing the box and lube on the table.

“What’s in the box?” Steve looked suspiciously at the box.

“Take off your clothes, and you’ll find out,” James said.

“Show me what’s in the box first,” Steve said, standing up and crossing his arms over his chest.

“I thought we had addressed what happens when you sass me, Rogers,” James lowered his eyes into a menacing stare.

“That was Serbia,” Steve said, throwing on his Captain America tone. “We’re back in Austria now.”

Steve’s attitude amused James; he could have fun with that. “So what? All of a sudden, you forgot your manners? That’s fine.”

James opened the box and revealed the rubber dildo. He took it into his hand, holding it upright from the base. It was flesh-colored, paler than Steve’s skin, with molded veins running along the shaft. It was the perfect approximation of the two of them, with Steve’s length and James’s girth, the head wider than theirs. 

“Bucky…what the hell is that?” Steve asked, the swagger in his voice decidedly missing.

“This is what’s going up your ass as soon as you get your fucking clothes off,” James said.

“A plastic penis?”

“It’s called a dildo, and yes. This is what Natasha would’ve fucked you with, what I’m fucking you with. I don’t know why you still have your clothes on.”

“What about your clothes?” Steve asked with a bold hint of nerve.

“You’re not worthy of it yet,” James said. “Get naked, now. I won’t ask again.”

Steve hesitated for a moment, looking suspiciously at the dildo and then at James, biting his lip as he took in James’s fiery stare. He slowly removed his clothes, tossing and kicking them to the side until he was completely nude in front of James. James scoffed in amusement when his roaming eyes landed on Steve’s dick, already erect and slick at the slit.

“You’re a little tart, you know that?” James said. “How long have you been dripping in your underwear, Stevie?”

Steve didn't answer. Although he couldn’t help the blush coloring his face and creeping down his neck, Steve radiated defiance, leering at James while he wrapped his right hand around his dick. He started stroking himself, the pressure of his fist firm enough to make that drop of precum slowly drip a few inches down from the head. Steve’s stare told James that Steve knew his efforts were working. James did not like Steve thinking that he had the upper hand.

“God, Buck,” Steve moaned wantonly, closing his eyes and rolling his shoulders back, making his pec flex with each decadent stroke.

“You’re fucking shameless,” James growled, standing up and grabbing Steve’s hips, pulling him forward into James’s clothed body. “Dripping all of my clothes. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Steve opened his eyes, a soft, teasing gaze that he must’ve known would drive James up a wall. “I thought you were gonna show me?”

“And what do you want me to show you?” James asked. “How desperate you need your tits sucked? How bad you need something up your tight ass?”

Steve’s eyes had the nerve to sparkle. “Whatever you want, Buck.”

Determined to wipe the snark off his face, James pulled Steve by his hips to the kitchen table and pushed him back, his butt pressed to the edge. He pressed himself against Steve’s chest, laying him back against the table. Steve wrapped his thighs around his waist and his arms around James’s back. He reached up and kissed James, pushing his tongue into his mouth. James let Steve dominate for a few minutes, their tongues battling each other while their lips slowly clashed together. Steve was a better kisser, with a soft, wet, glowing passion that loosened James’s more rigid, mechanical approach. However, it would only be a momentary reprieve.

James snapped back into focus when he felt Steve’s dick press against the zipper of his jeans. He pulled back, ripping Steve out of his mouth, looking down at him, panting and flushed. “Stay down, Stevie.”

Steve stayed down but kept his thighs wrapped around James’s waist, smirking up at him with no intention of letting go. Shaking his head in disbelief, James pushed Steve’s thighs away and grabbed the lube and the dildo, laying them on his stomach. He sat back in the chair and lifted Steve’s thigh on his shoulder. James slid his flesh hand down the back of Steve’s thigh to his ass, shifting over to press his forefinger against his perineum.

“God, Buck,” Steve moaned. “That feels good.”

“I know,” James said, pressing his forefinger harder on Steve’s taint and making him gasp. “Your body is so fucking needy, isn’t it?”

“Bucky, oh shit,” Steve whined, and James looked up to see the tip of Steve’s dick throb and a drop of precum slide down, catching on the underside. James swiped it with his metal finger and licked it off.

“Thanks, Stevie,” James said with another firm press to Steve’s perineum. “You know I love tasting how wet you get for me. So fucking good for me, aren’t you?”

“Buck…” Another dollop of precum dripped from Steve’s slit, but James let it slide down his shaft. “Do something, goddamn it.”

“I want you to tell me a story first,” James said. “Tell me what you want me and the Widow to do to you.”

“Wait, what?” Steve panted, sitting up on his elbows, his eyes glassy.

“Tell me what you want us to do to you, right here, right now.”

“I can’t…Buck…” 

“Just close your eyes,” James said. “And tell me what you see. I know you’ve got the picture in your head. Tell me what you want the Widow and I to do to you, and I’ll be good to you.”

“Her name’s Natasha,” Steve said, his tone low and hot.

“And what is Natasha doing?” James asked as he slid his forefinger down past Steve’s taint to his entrance and rubbed a small circle over it.

“Fuck,” Steve hissed, clenching his entrance tight against James’s touch. “Um…Nat…she’s kissing me.”

“Mmmhmm.” James massaged Steve’s hole, feeling it relax against his finger. “And what am I doing?”

“That…” Steve moaned, clenching and releasing his hole, whimpering as James made it more lax and easy.

“And what is that?”

“You’re touching me,” Steve said softly, tilting his hips to give James better access. “Touching my…”

“Tight little hole?” James popped open the bottle of lube and dribbled some on his finger, returning it to Steve’s ass and tugging along the rim, making it slick. 

“Buck…”

“Keep talking, Stevie,” James said.

“She’s on top of me,” Steve said on the edge of a heavy exhale. “Kissing my neck, her hand squeezing my chest…fuck. And you’re…Buck, come on.”

“What am I doing, Stevie?” James pushed his finger against Steve’s hole, the rim loosening up enough to open against the pressure, a hair’s breadth away from pulling the finger in.

“You’re…fuck…inside me…goddamn it.”

James pushed his finger into Steve’s ass and crooked it up to tap against his prostate while he pressed his thumb firmly into his perineum. Steve cried out from the dual stimulation, panting heavily as James worked his fingers. James looked up and saw Steve still holding himself on his elbows, but his head hung backward, his mouth gaping open, and his hand squeezing his pec, rolling his nipple between his fingers.

“She playing with your chest, Stevie?” James asked as he worked his middle finger into Steve’s hole and scissored his fingers, stretching him open. “Feels good?”

“Her tongue…” Steve pinched his nipple and whimpered, and James could easily figure out what was happening in Steve’s mind. “God, Buck, she’s biting.”

“Pinch it harder, both of them.”

Steve did what he was told, holding his pecs as the sharp sensation sent rolling shudders through his torso, ending with a heavy pulse of his dick. James fit a third finger inside Steve's ass and worked all three in and out of him, keying Steve up into harsh gasps and desperately undulating hips. James saw, felt, and heard Steve’s frustration as he rocked against the firm but gentle fingers. He almost pitied Steve, knowing they were nowhere near the end of this escapade. James didn’t feel bad enough to stop, though, not when Steve was begging with every cell in his body.

“Just wait until I get the toy inside of you,” James said with a wolfish grin he knew Steve couldn’t see. 

With Steve firmly ensconced in his imagination, James slowly pulled his fingers out of Steve’s ass. He grabbed the dildo and quickly slathered it in lube, making sure every inch was slick and ready to fit inside Steve. He brought the head of the dildo to Steve’s hole, teasing his rim with soft presses and retreats that slowly worked him open again. As loose as James’s fingers had made him, Steve’s entrance was still tightly clenched, a fluttering whine escaping his mouth at the renewed pressure. James watched Steve reach down and grab his dick, squeezing it, seeking more stimulation to level him off.

“Yeah, Stevie,” James encouraged. “Touch yourself. Fuck, look how hard you are.”

Steve’s chest rumbled as he stroked his dick, offering himself enough of a distraction for his hole to start relaxing again. James held his metal hand at the junction of Steve’s thigh and massaged his taint with his thumb, loosening him up further.

“Just keep stroking for me,” James said when he heard Steve whimper, grinding his thumb into Steve’s perineum to keep him off-balance. “You’re doing so fucking good.”

Satisfied with the tension leaving Steve’s body, James pressed the dildo forward into Steve, his hole stretched taut around the silicone. James felt his own breathing pick up pace, excitement pulsing through him as Steve’s ass took in more of the toy, half-inch by delicious half-inch. Steve’s eyes were clenched shut, his neck was arched, and his head was frozen in pleasure. Steve’s hands, however, weren’t frozen, his left groping his pec and his right slowly jerking his dick, pushing precum out onto his abs. James mused at the moment's irony: Steve may have been Captain America, but lying on the table, he looked like a siren god from a Greek myth, determined to commit him to sin. James couldn’t think of a better way to spend his evening than sinning with Steve.

Steve groaned softly when the dildo bottomed out inside him, the plastic testicles at the base pressed against the bottom curve of his ass. James let it sit there, fascinated by Steve’s hole flexing around the plastic shaft as if he were testing its give. While not as unyielding as his metal fingers, James picked the toy because of its heft, because he knew how Steve would respond to something firm and heavy in his ass—that, and another reason that Steve would feel soon enough.

“Look how hungry your ass is for it,” James said, tracing his metal finger at the join of the dildo and Steve’s stretched rim, making Steve moan. “That feels good, Stevie? I bet the cold feels good against your hot hole, huh?”

“Buck, please…” Steve whined. “Fuck…it’s big.”

“But your ass can handle it, right?” James said, pulling the toy out an inch and firmly pushing back in, Steve gasping in return. “It wants to be good for me, right?”

“Mmmhmm.” Steve pressed his bottom lip between his teeth, shifting his hips and pushing the toy even deeper inside him. “Just do something, fuck.”

“And what should I do?” James stood and leaned over Steve on his elbows, their bodies lightly pressed together. “What do you want me to do? You gonna direct me, Stevie?”

Steve opened his eyes, and James was startled by the mischievous flames in Steve’s eyes. A smile slowly broke out on Steve’s face, making James’s breath hitch in his chest, leaving him caught somewhere between excited and cautious.

“Move it,” Steve said.

“Move what?” James knew that, no matter how comfortable or daring he could get, Steve’s embarrassment over the mechanics of sex would always be a trump card he could play.

“The toy,” Steve said, visibly trying not to look away from James in shyness. 

“It has a name, you know.”

“I don’t care as long as you fuck me with it.”

James felt his stomach ignite, and he fixed Steve with his own mischievous look, more than willing to meet Steve on whatever ledge he was presently on. James slowly pulled the toy back, with Steve taking a few quick breaths as the shaft stroked along his walls, until he felt the resistance of the head bumping inside Steve’s hole. With a wink, James shoved the dildo back in, making Steve grunt loudly, quite possibly the hottest sound James had ever heard. Steve’s head fell back, and his dick throbbed another string of precum out of his slit.

“Like that, Stevie?”

Steve lifted his head, blinking away the shock and shooting daggers at James. “You can do better than that. Faster.”

“What makes you think you can handle faster?” James asked.

“Maybe we should call Nat back,” Steve said. “Have her do it, if you don’t think you’re up to it.”

“Excuse me?” James growled, not appreciating the script flip.

“Or maybe Victor. I’m sure Katerina wouldn’t mind. Maybe you both can watch while Victor fucks–”

James cut Steve off with a powerful shove of the dildo into Steve’s ass. Steve cried out in shock, clutching the side of the table and looking up at James with blown-out eyes. 

“You were saying, punk?”

“I thought…ah…you said you…ah, fuck…going faster?” Steve panted.

James scoffed as he reared the dildo back. “It’s your funeral.”

James pumped the toy inside of Steve with a steady rhythm. He listened carefully to Steve’s breathing, slowing down when his gasps were too thready and speeding up when his moans were too syrupy and decadent. He used Steve’s heavy shaft as another marker, silently thrilled by how it leaked more with James’s faster thrusts. He fought the urge to take Steve’s dick in his mouth, knowing Steve would come after a few sucks when he’d rather see how close the toy could get him to an orgasm. James settled instead for standing up, reaching forward to pluck Steve’s nipple and grope his pec, leaving faint pink marks across the broad muscle.

“Suck it,” Steve moaned, pushing his chest into James’s metal hand. “Make it wet.”

Instinct wanted to tell Steve to fuck off, but James played along, bending over on top of him. James pressed his mouth against Steve’s chest, widening his lips to cover the thick swell of his pec. He locked eyes with Steve as he firmly sucked on the twitching muscle, lapping at Steve’s nipple with the flat of his tongue, relishing in Steve’s deep moans. Busy as his mouth was, James kept up with the controlled, strong thrusts of the dildo inside Steve. If anything, James wanted to show off, showing Steve how he could wield his fierce control to drain every drop of pleasure out of him.

James lifted his head, letting a thin string of spit drip over Steve’s nipple. “Tell me how you wanna come, Stevie.”

Steve looked surprised by the question, panting as his mind appeared to cycle through the numerous possibilities. James thought he had finally regained the upper hand when Steve’s eyes narrowed in a willful challenge. “Grind on me. With your clothes on.”

“And why would I do that?” James asked, pinching Steve’s nipple with his metal fingers, annoyed when Steve barely twitched.

“Because you made me come in my jeans,” Steve answered. “You owe me.”

“That was weeks ago…in another fucking country. And we had only fucked you once.”

Steve quirked his eyebrow, and James was pretty sure he wanted to kill him. “You made me come eight times at that point.” James was doing the math in his head when Steve added, “I’m counting the time I jerked off after you left me in Budapest.”

“That’s cheating,” James grumbled.

“I don’t care,” Steve said. “You owe me a pair of ruined jeans. So hop to it, Buck.”

“I should leave you here with blue balls.”

“Do it, and I’ll drive over to the Sacher Wein right now and have Kat and Vic take care of me,” Steve said. “You’ll never hear the end of how Victor–”

“Finish that sentence, and I will punch your lights out,” James gripped Steve’s pec hard, making him whine despite himself.

“I’d rather you just climb on top of me,” Steve said after a deep breath, placing his hand over James’s and pressing the metal into his chest.

“Punk.”

“Jerk.” Steve put on another smile that James immediately wanted to smudge off. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, get on top of me and make me come.”

“No.”

James grabbed Steve’s waist and snatched him forward while he sat back in the chair, making Steve straddle his lap. Steve gasped and fell into James, their chests pressed together and his arms hanging over James’s shoulders. James moved his hand from Steve’s hip to between Steve’s ass cheeks, feeling that the dildo had slipped a few inches out of him. He pushed it back in to the hilt, and Steve yelled out, his hole clenching down. James figured, from Steve’s frantic whines, that the new angle had the head of the toy pressing right against Steve’s prostate.

“What the fuck?” Steve panted, lifting his head back from James’s neck.

“Two supersoldiers on top of a wooden table?” James said. “I know your head is foggy from dick, but I didn't think you were out and out dumb.”

“You bastard,” Steve moaned.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” James gave Steve’s left asscheek a hard swat with his metal hand. “I believe you said something about messing up my clothes. You better get on it, then.”

Steve groaned in frustration but rocked his hips, his dick rubbing against James’s black denim. It only took four slow movements for Steve to get antsy, moaning low in his throat and dropping kisses over James’s neck, almost as an apology for being a punk. James reached between them and felt Steve dripping onto his jeans. He felt a surprising thrill rush through his veins from knowing that Steve was so desperate for him that he would want to come all over James’s clothes. The neediness on display made James resume thrusting the toy in and out of Steve’s hole.

“Goddamn it, Buck,” Steve groaned in James’s ear, pushing his ass back against the toy, whimpering when it got particularly deep, beating against his spot. “You’re gonna make me come.”

James chuckled as he fingered the secret button at the base of the dildo. “You really want me to make you come? You wanna feel something that will drive your body insane?”

Steve lifted his head and stared at James, intrigued. “What you got for me, Buck?”

“Ground yourself. It’s gonna be a lot.”

“I can take it,” Steve scoffed. “Do your worst, Bucky.”

James gripped the curve of Steve’s ass in his metal hand as he pushed the whole toy inside Steve. He pressed the button, and Steve shouted in shock as the dildo started vibrating, sending forceful pulses up Steve’s walls and buzzing against his rim. Steve fell forward onto James and hugged him and the chair. James felt Steve’s dick throb hard, and he lowered his head to see Steve’s flushed tip spill another pump of precum onto his jeans and shirt. 

“What…the…fuck…?” Steve panted. “Oh shit…”

“The dildo vibrates,” James explained as he slowly moved it in and out of Steve. “‘Buzzed for your pleasure’ was on the package. Or, if you want the exact German, ‘Buzzes zu Ihrem Vergnügen.’”

“Oh my God…” Steve shivered as James pulled the toy out until just the head was inside Steve, the vibrations right against his inner rim. “I can’t…oh, fuck.”

“I thought you said you could handle it, Stevie,” James teased, pushing the dildo back in. “‘I can take it,’ you said. ‘Do your worst,’ you said. And now you punk out on me.”

“I didn’t think you were trying to rip me apart from the inside, Jesus Christ.”

“That’s what you get for being fresh,” James admonished. “Now shut up and come on me so I can throw these in the wash.”

“Bastard.”

James watched in amusement as Steve struggled to bounce in his lap, working himself on the vibrating toy that James held still for him. The soft buzzing was getting to Steve: sweat quickly collected on his forehead and the top of his chest, his skin retained a soft, pinkish color, and the sounds from his mouth were drenched in pleasure and agitation. With Steve doing most of the work, James indulged in the feel and taste of him, squeezing his firm ass, stroking the warm stretch of his hole, and licking up the sweat from his pecs. 

“Oh, shit, Buck, I’m…”

Steve came with one last roll of his hips, sinking deeper against the dildo and almost taking James’s finger inside him, and came. He trembled and gasped as he shot long white strips of cum on James’s jeans and black sweater. James pulled Steve against him, using his grip on Steve’s ass to move his hips and grind his spasming erection on him, pushing more cum out onto James’s clothes. When he was sure Steve was done, he stood from the chair with Steve clinging to him and laid him back on the table with a soft thud.

“Made a fucking mess,” James said as he quickly pulled and pushed his clothes off until he was as naked as Steve, standing between his thighs.

James poured some lube into his flesh hand and quickly slicked up his dick, which had been hard since Steve took off his shirt. Deciding he was long overdue for his own pleasure, James slowly turned off the vibrator and pulled the toy out of Steve’s ass. He quickly replaced it with his dick, filling Steve until their lower bodies were pressed tight together. Steve sunk into the table as James fucked him with quick, firm thrusts, tilting Steve’s hips so the head of his dick struck Steve’s prostate. Even with the stretch from the toy, Steve’s ass was tight on James’s shaft, the intoxicating warmth of his walls rippling over him. 

“Come on, Buck,” Steve groaned, clenching hard on James and reaching forward to stroke his hands over James’s tight abs. “Fucking come.”

James slammed hard into Steve’s ass as his orgasm surged through his body, filling Steve with hot splashes of his semen that made them cry out in unison. Steve should’ve been exhausted, but he managed to tighten his thighs around James’s waist and pull his dick even deeper. He pushed back against it, the unsteady motions causing James’s cum to leak out around him onto the table. James shuddered from the sensitivity but kept slowly moving inside Steve, allowing both their bodies to cool down while pleasure ebbed out of them.

“Goddamn it, Stevie,” James said, bracing his metal arm on the table to keep from falling over onto him.

“What if I told you I was close?” Steve sighed, his hand reaching down to stroke lazily over his dick, erect and throbbing from James’s thrusts.

James grabbed the dildo, pressed the button at the base, and stroked it up Steve’s erection to the underside of the head. Steve held his shaft still, moaning loudly, his thigh shaking from the stimulation. Still erect himself, James resumed fucking Steve with slow, deep thrusts.

“I would say your body is so fucking needy,” James said softly, circling his hips to rub deliberately into Steve’s prostate. “So prove it. Gimme another.”

“Fuck…” Steve arched his back, and James’s sharp push into his spot set off another orgasm, with another round of cum dripping onto his stomach. James knocked Steve’s hand away and jerked him off, pushing out the rest of Steve’s climax. The throbbing and the dribbling soon stopped, and Steve fell back against the table, mewling in oversensitivity. 

“You fucked out, or is your greedy ass wanting another?” James asked, bending over and pressing a filthy kiss against his mouth, unbothered by the sticky mess between them. 

“Cute double entendre, Buck,” Steve moaned. “I’m spent. I’m just gonna lie here until tomorrow morning.”

“Like hell you will,” James said, pinching Steve’s nipple. “I eat at this table.”

“Is that your way of telling me you’re about to eat…you know…”

“My cum out of your ass?” James snorted in laughter. 

“Shut up, Barnes,” Steve groaned. 

“To answer your question, no, I’m not eating you out on the kitchen table. Tempting offer, though.” 

“It wasn’t an offer,” Steve moaned, lifting his arm and slapping James’s chest right over his right nipple.

“Liar,” James said, his pec pleasantly tingling. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

James pulled off and out of Steve, and Steve lightly gasped as James’s cum slowly dripped out of his ass. Chuckling, James ducked into the bathroom and quickly wiped himself with a wet washcloth. Grabbing and dampening another one, James returned to the table and wiped Steve down. He used the excuse of cleaning to touch Steve, grazing his fingers over the smooth skin and sleek muscles. By the time his hands and the washcloth reached Steve’s crotch, he was fully erect again. 

“You can barely move, and you’re still hard,” James scoffed as he wiped the washcloth between Steve’s cheeks. “What even are you?”

“This is all your fault,” Steve said. 

“Well, I guess I better take care of you.” James slid his hands under Steve’s back, pulled him up straight and against him, and lifted him in the air like he weighed half a pound. 

“What the fuck?” Steve yelped, wrapping his arms and legs quickly and haphazardly around James to steady himself.

“Oh, shut up and stop being a punk for once,” James said, grabbing an unnecessary metal handful of Steve’s ass as he carried him out of the kitchen. 

“I don’t need to be carried,” Steve said as he tightened his thighs around James’s hips. “I’m worn out, not an invalid.”

“Oh, I know how worn out you are,” James said against Steve’s neck, sucking a light pink mark over his pulse. “My dick is still buzzing from how tight you were around me.”

James made it halfway down the hallway before his simmering arousal got the better of him and he pushed Steve against the wall. He kissed him hard while his metal hand slipped into his crack and dipped into his hole, tracing the residual wetness. 

“I think you like having to carry me around,” Steve said against James’s mouth, nipping at his bottom lip. 

“It’s annoying,” James said. “You just love getting into trouble so I can help you. The least you can let me do is play with your ass.”

“I do not love getting into trouble…” Steve’s protest dissolved into a moan when James tugged at his rim. 

“Oh really? So Mrs. McCloskey chasing you into the alley for picking that fight with those dumbasses up the street was just what? Bad timing?”

James froze, pulling his head back from Steve’s face; Steve looked as stunned as he felt. James didn’t know where the memory came from or how it spilled out of his mouth unprompted. It was a stunningly clear reel: small Steve being whacked in the butt by who he gathered was Mrs. McCloskey with a broom, chasing him and three bullies he had gotten into it with. He saw himself run after Steve, who had slowed down and started heaving, trying to catch his breath. James, or rather Bucky, threw Steve over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, cursing him all the way back to their apartment. Steve fought him half of the way, punching James’s shoulders before he gave up and sagged against him, exhausted.

“Yeah, bad timing,” Steve said, the excitement in his eyes undercutting the steady tone of his voice.

“Steve…” James expected the moment to vanish, but it slotted into the fragile chronology of his memories at the very beginning. He suddenly felt a frenzy in his chest as he tried to keep pace with the memory. “Mrs. McCloskey. Bergen Avenue. Mrs. McCloskey. Bergen– ”

“Buck, hey, stop it,” Steve said, bringing a hand to James’s face to steal his attention away from the memory. “It’s okay; don’t force it. If it’s meant to stay, it will.”

James fully intended to repeat whatever names he needed to guarantee the memory’s permanence, but he followed Steve’s lead, taking a breath and trusting that it would settle. James tried recalling the memory after a few minutes of staring and gently touching Steve. Once again, the image of Mrs. McCloskey’s broom swatting Steve on his flat butt came into full view. James didn’t have the full context, but the memory was the closest he had felt to his forgotten past. The feeling was overwhelming. 

What overwhelmed James more was Steve’s reaction. He couldn’t help thinking about Budapest and how Steve nearly bowled over the first time James had a memory flash. He imagined that Steve would’ve gone apoplectic from a more stable, seemingly permanent memory interrupting their moment together. However, Steve in front of him seemed calm and assured, as if he would be fine whether or not James retained the memory. It was a subtle but monumental shift, and James didn’t quite know what it meant to what they had become to each other.  

“Buck,” Steve said, reclaiming James’s attention with his intense eyes and tone. “Take me to bed.”

Still slightly off-kilter, James nodded and carried Steve into the spare bedroom. He pulled the navy blue comforter back and lowered Steve onto the white sheets. 

“You’re such a punk,” James said, surprising himself with the reverence in his tone.

James considered leaving Steve in bed and either going to his room or back in the kitchen, cleaning up, and then sitting in the dark silence. That would’ve made sense on any other night, but his skin was still buzzing from that small but purposeful memory. James didn’t want to let the memory go. He wanted to examine it frame by frame, picking apart every image and ascribing definitions and emotions, down to the bits of trash in the alley. He thought he could only do that if he stayed close to Steve, even for a little while. James surprised himself again by slipping into the bed behind Steve, pushing him forward with his knee to make more room, and pulling the sheets over them.

“Buck…?” Steve tried turning his head, but James gently pushed his head forward.

“Don’t start,” James said as he lined up their bodies, his metal arm encircling Steve’s middle and his hand resting over his stomach. “I’m not staying long.”

“Okay,” Steve said, shifting back to press tighter against James. “The memory…”

“Still there,” James said, pride blooming in his chest. “You getting your bony ass swept up the street…ridiculous, you are.”

“You seem… okay about that…?” Steve lowered his head to look at James’s metal hand stroking his abs.

“For now, I guess,” James said. “Don’t know how I’ll feel in the morning, if it even stays there. But for now, yeah. It’s good.”

“Good.”

James pinched Steve’s hip, saying, “Stop thinking so loud and sleep so I can leave and get a good 90 minutes in. We’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”

Steve hummed in dissent, but it wasn’t long before James heard Steve’s breathing deepen and felt his chest's slow, measured rise. James stayed in bed fifteen minutes longer than he needed to, calmed by how at ease Steve seemed in his sleep. He wasn’t envious, either. James figured if one person on the cursed planet deserved at least one peaceful night, it was Steve. James was grateful that he might’ve somehow contributed to it.

He briefly entertained staying the whole night and forgoing sleep, but James ended up inching himself out of bed. After he resituated the sheets over Steve, he bent down and lightly kissed his shoulder. It wasn’t until he stood up straight that he realized what he had done and what it might’ve meant. James backed away from both the bed and the slight burn in his chest he felt. He went to the door, shut the light off, and embarked on what he hoped would be an empty sleep to swallow him whole.

Chapter Text

James ended up sleeping 123 minutes, 33 minutes longer than he had expected.

He awoke with his usual violent startle, shooting upright and taking stock of his immediate surroundings. James had anticipated waking up in the bathroom or peering over the ledge of the roof. Worse still, he feared that whatever nightmare he had would lead him into the spare bedroom, his metal hand crushing Steve’s windpipe. Instead, James was in his bed, the sparse sunlight of dawn peering through the window blinds. He could admit that it was rather anticlimactic, given his warnings to Steve about his nocturnal state, and he knew Steve would absolutely use it as a cudgel to renegotiate their sleeping arrangements. 

However, battling Steve over their sleeping arrangements wasn’t James’s primary concern. Once the fog of sleep fully cleared, he dove straight into his catalog of memories, seeking the earliest one. He swept past the inflamed tangle of his experiences with HYDRA, catching only a glimpse of a sniper rifle resting on his shoulder. James eventually found what he was looking for: Mrs. McCloskey and her broom, swatting Steve and his bullies off her stoop on Bergen Avenue. Even in its sepia tone, the memory had become clearer than it had been the night before. He saw the sweltering defiance in Steve’s overconfident eyes and slightly gaunt expression, shouting at the three taller young men surrounding him, who James wanted to shoot between the eyes for daring to accost Steve. He saw the garbage pins that Steve had been pinned between, wheezing in a protracted effort to catch his breath. There was a large cut at Steve’s temple, blood dripping down the side of his face.

And then there was Bucky Barnes. James couldn’t see his face, but he saw the sleeves of his plaid cotton shirt with a patch at the elbow. He saw Bucky reach forward, pull Steve off the ground, and throw him over his shoulder. He saw the slight bounce of his field of vision caused by his frustrated steps and shouting at Steve for putting himself at risk again. It amazed James what he could interpret about his past self from that fleeting memory. For instance, he knew Steve’s utter disregard for his well-being exasperated Bucky. He also knew that, despite his exasperation, Bucky would use whatever small pocket of power he had to protect Steve, even from himself. 

James could relate on both fronts.

He called upon the memory thrice more to make sure it was truly permanent. James’s mental constitution was fragile, constantly shifting in response to whatever memories or emotions surfaced at any given point in time. Most days, he couldn’t trust his own mind. For the first time, James felt like he might be able to, eventually. If this memory could stand on its own without getting lost or corrupted, perhaps there was hope for the rest of his memories. Maybe he didn’t have to bob and weave through his mind to avoid HYDRA’s worst indulgences against him that threatened to tear him apart. Maybe, just maybe, there was hope for him, for James Buchanan Barnes, for Bucky. The only problem was that hope was a terrifying prospect for James. Hope, even at its smallest size, spelled destruction for men like him.

James rolled out of bed and went into the bathroom, relieving himself, quickly showering, and then brushing his teeth. He usually avoided his reflection whenever he was in the bathroom, but he stared at himself this time. He wanted to see if he looked different, if the persistent memory of his past with Steve had changed his face or posture. He stared hard but still looked like James, with all that meant. He still looked like HYDRA’s deactivated pawn, who was allegedly the best friend of the legendary Captain America. Yet, there was something in his right eye that hadn’t been there before. James dropped the toothbrush in the sink and rubbed at his eye like specks of dust were at the edge. When he reopened his eye, the gleam was still there. It suspiciously reminded him of hope, and it terrified him.

James left the bathroom and knocked on the spare bedroom door. When he didn’t get a response, he pressed his ear to it, and his super-sensitive hearing picked up the sound of a light, rattling snore coming from the other side. James opened the door, and his theory was borne out. Steve was sleeping on his back in the bed, snoring. He was nude, the sheets that James covered him with last night rumpled at his feet. The early morning sun bathed Steve’s skin in a rich, warm glow that made the sleek lines of his body look beautifully soft. James thought he was done being stunned by Steve, but his imagination hadn’t considered Steve asleep in the early morning.

James went to Steve’s bedside and placed his metal hand on Steve’s shoulder, shaking him. Steve didn’t rouse, not even a twitch of his eye. His nostrils flared, and James felt slightly irritated by Steve’s deep sleep. He shook Steve again; once again, no response. 

“Punk,” James grumbled.

Steve’s stubborn sleep did grant James the opportunity to look his fill of the nude supersoldier lying next to him. His eyes slowly roamed over Steve’s smoothly sculpted, supple flesh, pausing for a few moments at his peaceful face, the vast stretch of his pecs, and his thick thighs. After reaching Steve’s toes, James circled back to Steve’s crotch, his deceptively harmless dick lying against his thigh. As much as he enjoyed making Steve sputter and blush, James also liked Steve like this: quiet, relaxed, and comfortable in his skin. Steve didn’t talk about it, but James saw in his timid glances and rosy cheeks how he struggled to reconcile how the serum changed him, turning him from the scrawny kid in James’s fragile memories into the requisite example of the perfect American male. Steve had a slight ungainliness when he wasn’t fighting or strategizing, as if he was embarrassed to take up space. It carried over to Steve’s response to physical intimacy. He hadn’t seen himself as worthy of desire and passion, even though he was effusive in expressing it himself. If helping Steve see himself as a sexual being was the one good thing James could claim in his fractured life, he would be satisfied.

”Buck…”

James’s eyes shot up to Steve’s face, seeing his eyes flutter and his lips part into a soft smile. James scooted closer to Steve and braced his metal arm on the other side of Steve’s body. He stroked his right hand across Steve’s collarbone. He continued down the outer curve of Steve’s pec, grazing his nipple with his thumb and feeling it firm up in response.

“Bucky…” Steve moaned, his eyes opening but a fraction.

“Shhh…” James put a finger to Steve’s lips. “Just close your eyes and let me make you feel good, Stevie.”

Steve pleasantly hummed as he closed his eyes again and straightened out his torso, giving James free reign over his body. James immediately embraced the offer, rubbing more firmly at Steve’s nipple and drawing soft gasps from his throat. He stroked his hand across to the other side of Steve’s chest and cupped his left pec, groping the broad muscle while flicking his nipple, making it flush pink.

“Bucky…God…” Steve slurred, his head lulling back against the pillow.

“You’re doing so good, Stevie,” James said. “So soft and easy for me.”

James slid his hand down Steve’s abs and wrapped it around his erection, already hard, warm, and throbbing in his grasp. He gave it a slow, firm stroke that made Steve moan and his dick pulse, a pearly drop of fluid bubbling from his slit. As impressive as Steve’s heavy dick was, James kept his eyes on Steve’s face. His eyes stayed closed, but he was awake now, pleasure-dipped tension spreading across his face and clearing the early morning fatigue. James’s brutally steady rhythm of strokes added a touch of fever to Steve’s reactions, making him squirm and stretch, trying and failing to ramp up the sensations drizzling through his body. All James offered Steve as satisfaction was his metal fingers teasing along the hollow of Steve’s hip and his flesh thumb rubbing against Steve’s frenulum with each upward stroke.

“Buck, I’m close,” Steve moaned.

James bent down, exhaling hot over Steve’s nipple. “You want me to suck it out of you?”

“Oh shit.” Steve’s shaft throbbed at the mere suggestion, and James chuckled under his breath.

James gave Steve’s nipple one departing suck before shifting further down the bed and taking the head of Steve’s dick in his mouth. He picked up the speed and tightness of his strokes while he sucked on the tip, his lips massaging the warm, thick flesh. Steve gasped and rocked his hips, rubbing the underside of his dick against the flat of James’s tongue. Feeling Steve’s growing frustration in his tensing hips and his dick’s insistent throbbing, James stuck his metal middle finger in his mouth alongside Steve’s dick, wetting it with his saliva. He slipped the finger in between Steve’s ass cheeks, rubbing circles over his entrance. James pressed his finger forward inside Steve to the third knuckle and crooked it to push on Steve’s prostate. 

“Buck!”

Steve gasped as he came in James’s mouth, the head of his dick pulsating hard and spilling a load of cum onto James’s tongue, with a few streaks reaching the back of his throat. James eagerly swallowed it and kept the pressure on Steve’s prostate and his dick until he was sure Steve had finished. He let Steve’s heavy dick fall back against his stomach and made one last swipe up the bottom with his tongue. With his finger still in Steve’s ass, slowly rubbing along his walls, James lowered himself on top of Steve, kissing his jawline to his lips.

“What a way to wake up,” Steve sighed, lifting his head to chase after James and kiss him back.

“Figured your greedy ass would appreciate it,” James said, his finger slowly rubbing Steve’s prostate. “You’re still dripping, fuck.”

“Is that normal?” Steve asked on the back of a moan, reaching down to grab James’s arm and pull it towards him, getting his finger deeper inside Steve’s ass.

“Probably a half-and-half mix of my finger up your ass and the serum keying you up,” James explained as he slowly stroked Steve’s prostate. “Regular people don’t have orgasms like you do.”

“Hmmm,” Steve hummed. “I was wondering when you were gonna wake up.”

James wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion. “I was awake the whole night. What are you talking about?”

“Mmm-mmm,” Steve shook his head. “I checked in on you about an hour ago…I think? You were sleeping. The sun hadn’t risen yet.”

James had dozed off around 4, meaning Steve must’ve checked in on him at some point in those two hours. “I told you—”

“You did tell me,” Steve interrupted lazily. “And I ignored you…for the most part. I just peeked in, wanted to make sure you were alright.”

”I could’ve—”

“And you didn’t,” Steve interrupted again, having the gall to smile. “I kept a comfortable distance. Scout’s honor.”

“You’re an idiot,” James grumbled, pressing firmly on Steve’s prostate, making Steve whimper.

“Fuck…” Steve moaned. “Come lay down with me for a little.”

”No,” James said. “You put yourself at risk, dumbass. You should be so lucky I’m even doing this.”

“Don’t act like you’re being put out, Buck,” Steve sassed. “Wait, pull out of me for a minute.”

James pulled his finger out of Steve’s ass, and Steve let out a slow exhale before he rolled onto his stomach. The move instantly drew James’s eyes to the low dip of Steve’s waist and his heavy, rounded ass cheeks. From the subtle smile on Steve’s face, it was purely intentional. James made a show of groaning but didn’t resist prying Steve’s cheeks apart and re-inserting his finger into Steve’s hole.

“Oh, fuck, that’s deep,” Steve moaned.

“You asked for it,” James said, palming Steve’s right cheek with his flesh hand, squeezing the luscious curve. “Want me to make you come again?”

“No,” Steve said, melting into the mattress while pressing his ass up against James’s hands working him over. “Maybe later, though.”

James huffed. “Oh really? And what would the captain like to do instead? Prattle on about the joys of capitalism and democracy?” He lightly smacked Steve’s ass, rumbling in delight at the muscle bouncing from the strike.

“No,” Steve said softly, his voice catching on a gasp from James’s spank. “I want to touch you.”

“Why would you wanna touch me?” James asked without thinking, realizing how pitiful that sounded and worrying that Steve would launch into a well-meaning speech about how much James meant to him, how what happened with HYDRA wasn’t his fault, and the rest of Steve’s greatest hits. 

“I like touching you,” Steve said softly, reaching his arm out to squeeze James’s thigh. “I like that you like me touching you.”

“Oh,” James said stupidly.

“Yup,” Steve said, smiling that stupid smile of his. “Come on, Bucky. Let me touch you a little.”

“You realize I’d have to stop fingering you, right?” James asked, rapping his finger against Steve’s tender spot. 

“A sacrifice I’m willing to make.” Steve shifted himself up on the bed, kissing James’s bare thigh. “Lay down, Bucky. Let me give you a massage. You looked kinda stiff this morning.”

James had been stiff this morning. It was a daily, natural occurrence, the consequence of the mangled nerves on the left side of his torso. Steve’s mention confirmed that he not only came into his room while he was sleeping but was close enough to see how tense and uncomfortable he slept when he slept.

“Lay down, James. ” Steve’s voice dropped an octave into his Captain America tone.

Suddenly feeling like a petty bastard, James abruptly shoved his finger deep into Steve’s ass and massaged it into his prostate. Steve let out a sharp gasp, clutching James’s thigh hard and grinding his hips down into the bed. James could tell from how the muscles of Steve’s ass locked up that he had climaxed again. James dropped his flesh hand from Steve’s cheek to between his legs, feeling the wet spot on the sheets.

“You’re such a fucking jerk,” Steve panted.

“Oh, shut up,” James said, swiping a strand of Steve’s cum from the sheets and pressing it to Steve’s lips.

Steve leered at James as he begrudgingly opened his mouth and took in James’s fingers. “Satisfied? Now, can you lay down with me?”

“If I have to.” James laid down on his stomach next to Steve, trying to ignore how awkward he felt and how they looked. Steve rectified the situation by sitting up, stretching the kinks out of his arms and back, and crawling on top of James. He straddled James’s waist and pressed his lips to James’s right shoulder. 

Steve asked, “You’ll tell me if I do something wrong?”

“Yeah,” James said, hoping Steve couldn’t feel how his muscles tensed at the question.

“Good,” Steve said, smiling against James’s skin.

He sat upright and placed both hands on James’s right shoulder and shoulder blade, lightly stroking before pressing his fingers into the skin. James moaned from the bottom of his throat, his muscles tightening and loosening. He rolled his shoulder back, testing its flexion. Satisfied with the lax feel, James settled into the bed, closing his eyes and letting Steve’s hands work. They were insistent but gentle, seeking the tensest knots and fibers first, clearing out the tension, and working backward to the smaller, easier ones. James didn’t even bother hiding his noises, too amazed by the dexterity and care of Steve’s hands. Strange as they were to hear, James reasoned that Steve would appreciate knowing how good he was making him feel.

“How you feeling?” Steve asked, squeezing his thumbs down the right side of James’s spine.

“Passable,” James said because he was a jerk and didn’t want to give too much to Steve off the bat.

“You’re such a dick,” Steve chuckled. “You do feel looser, though.”

Steve finished up the right side of James’s back and was correct. James didn’t feel a spot of tension, a stark difference from the mangled mess of nerves, scars, and metal that was his left side. Affording it even a moment of attention made James angry, but he took a few deep breaths instead, trying to cool the simmering of the blood in his veins.

“Ready for me to do the other side?” Steve asked as he stroked his left hand up the curve of James’s back, stopping short of the metal near his shoulder blade. “Is there something I should know about…the arm?”

“You don’t have to…” James could suffer from discomfort on his left side. He had several years of practice and didn’t want to inflict his misery on Steve.

“Just tell me,” Steve said with a soft, kind huff. “Stop overthinking it.”

“Sounds like something I would say,” James murmured.

“Exactly,” Steve said. “So listen to your own advice, jackass.”

“Um…” James thought through the physicality of his metal arm, what he knew about the fragile nerve endings, muscles, and scars. “Keeping two inches of distance from the metal. The nerves and muscles aren’t…it could hurt.”

“Got it.”

Steve started on the left side of James’s lower back, digging into the minor-key muscles at his hips and working his way up. Being more sensitive on his left side, James let out a tense gasp. James didn’t say anything, but Steve caught on to the discomfort, gentling his touch as he untangled James’s tight musculature. James responded in kind, moaning softly and stretching underneath Steve’s expert hands. There was another effect: James was hard. He had felt the beginning stirs of arousal when Steve was halfway done with his right side, but it roared to life as Steve worked his way up James’s left lat. James felt his dick throb underneath his stomach and against the sheets. He tried ignoring it, focusing on the exquisite feel of Steve’s hand, but every stretch of his back made his tip rub against his lower abs, sending light shockwaves throughout his crotch.

“Fuck,” James moaned when Steve undid a stubborn knot near his shoulder blade, making the head of his dick pulse and drip precum onto the sheets.

“You okay there, Buck?” Steve asked, his concern making James’s predicament more hilarious.

“I’m swell,” James said, chuckling as his dick throbbed again.

“Swell? Now I am worried.”

“Just keep working your magic on my back before I come all over your sheets,” James said casually before moaning again after Steve released another knot near his spine. “Well, my sheets, but you know what I mean.”

“You…I’m sorry, what?” Steve sputtered. 

“Sensitive nerve endings times dexterous hands equals horniness, apparently,” James explained, looking back at a dumbstruck Steve.

“Oh,” Steve said dumbly, mirroring James earlier. “So I’m getting you close, huh?”

“Nope,” James said curtly. “You are not about to use this to boost your ego. Get off.”

“You’re already halfway there, apparently ,” Steve said, the smugness in his voice unmistakable and grating.

“Shut up,” James groaned.

“Um…” Steve’s shyness quickly returned. “Do you want me to…you know…”

“Make me come?”  James finished Steve’s sentence, catching his burgeoning blush. “I wouldn’t mind a happy ending.”

“A happy…ending?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake,” James said, pressing his head into the mattress. “Finish up with my back, and let’s see where we end up, alright?”

“Got it, Buck.”

Steve continued massaging James’s back, tactfully avoiding the two inches surrounding the metal, per James’s instructions. As James expected, he was still very turned on, with Steve’s merciless hands holding him at a ledge where his skin tingled, his crotch throbbed, and his erection dug into the mattress. It certainly didn’t help that Steve was affected, too. James felt Steve’s body giving off heat, and he was 85 percent sure that his dick was filling out over the small of his back. The probability increased another five percent when he felt wetness drip on his back, either sweat or precum. Steve’s embarrassed cough and swipe of the spot with his thumb leaned toward the latter.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said shamefully, moving to climb off James’s back. James grabbed Steve’s thigh and stopped him.

“Who said you were done?” James asked, playfully leering at Steve’s bewildered, embarrassed face.

“I…I shouldn’t have…I was trying…”

“Steve,” James said, squeezing his thigh. “Don’t stop, okay? I’m telling you what I want. I want you to keep touching me. I don’t care if you blow your load all over my back.”

“Buck, come on…”

“Shut up,” James sighed. “Now, you did my back. What about the rest, huh?”

“You want me to?” Steve asked.

“Get to it, Stevie,” James said, smirking back at Steve’s flushed face and tooting his ass upwards. “We don’t have all day.”

Nodding, Steve scooted back, lifting his hips to resettle on James’s lower thighs. His hands settled on the small of James’s back, rubbing the muscles with his thumbs, pointedly avoiding James’s ass. James understood the hesitation. He had worked through many of his sexual complexities with Steve, more than Steve could’ve ever realized. However, James being on the receiving end of anal sex was the one bridge they hadn’t crossed. The worst of HYDRA’s abuses had been associated with that act, tearing him apart emotionally, psychologically, and physically. They had used it as a scythe against him, reminding him that his body belonged to HYDRA and they could do whatever they wanted with it. And they did. James had attempted to push beyond that trauma, having Steve finger him until he came, and as incredible as that felt, he hadn’t known how much further he could go.

But James was stubborn, and he refused to let HYDRA decide what his body could and couldn’t do, not anymore. 

“Steve,” James groaned, pushing his ass up against the bottom of Steve’s palms. “Touch me. I want you to.”

“Okay.” 

Steve slid his hands down over the swells of James’s ass, lightly gripping both cheeks. James’s throat rumbled as Steve’s fingers dug hesitantly but deeply into the tense muscles, working out the tension. It left James’s body feeling deliciously conflicted: his muscles felt soft and warm while his dick was flaming hot and hard. He didn’t want to rub himself off on the mattress, but his hips’ subtle shifts from Steve’s massage felt so good that he could barely help himself. When he tried to exert some control, tensing his muscles to stop moving, Steve loosened them all over again, a brutal, incredible feedback loop that left James on the razor’s edge.

“Is that good, Buck?” Steve asked, his hands sliding down to the bottom curve of James’s ass. 

“You know it is,” James growled.

“But I don’t,” Steve said, even though James could hear the smile in his voice. He leaned forward, his lips right by James’s ear, his breath brushing against the shell of it. “I just want to be good for you, Buck. Tell me how.”

Steve was playing dirty, and he knew it. He knew James would get off on him being vulnerable and unsure of his sexual prowess while knowing full well that James was putty under his hands. James wanted to smack or suck the smile he knew was plastered on Steve’s face, undercutting his modest words. He chose to play along instead. He let out a pillowy moan here and a jagged groan there, shifting his ass against Steve’s hands to direct where he wanted them to go, even as the sheets rubbed against his dick.

“Inside…” James said, tilting his ass so Steve’s fingers grazed its cleft. “Touch me there.”

“Whatever you want, Buck,” Steve said.

Steve slid his thumbs between James’s cheeks and spread them. James felt an instinctual shiver run down his spine to his tailbone, but he shook it off, focusing on who was holding him open. 

“I…um…” Steve started. “I don’t really know what to do from here.”

“Whatever you want,” James said, looking back to see Steve’s face etched in nerves. “I trust you.”

“Can I…?” Steve’s lips scrunched as his cheeks inflamed. “…with my tongue?”

“Oh…” James grinned. “You wanna taste me, Stevie? Get me wet?”

“Shut up, Bucky,” Steve grumbled as he bent down and kissed the inside of James’s firm left cheek. 

As much as James enjoyed riling Steve up, Steve knew how to get him back, with genuine earnestness brimming in his touch. Steve’s lips gently marking their way towards James’s entrance made heat bloom in James’s crotch and his chest. What made James nearly combust was Steve’s tiny kitten lick over his hole. He couldn’t pinpoint what exactly struck him first, but the quaking shock of the stimulation left him gasping and trembling from the top of his spine down to his knees. It only took a few seconds for Steve to try and retreat, presumably fearing going too far. Without a thought, James reached back with left arm and caught Steve’s shoulder, holding him still.

“Don’t go,” James rasped. “It wasn’t bad, I swear.”

“Buck, you don’t have–” Steve stopped himself. “You’re shaking.”

“I’m okay,” James said, more unsteadily than what was probably helpful to them. “It was just…”

“A lot?” Steve offered.

“Yeah,” James said. “Just…go easy on me, yeah?”

“Anything you need, Bucky,” Steve said as he grabbed James’s metal hand, linked their fingers together, and moved them over to James’s left cheek. “Anything.”

Steve brought his head back to James’s spread ass, and James gasped again as he licked again at his hole, slow and whisper-soft. James tried relaxing with some deep breaths, but he still clenched his hole tight.

“Just keep going,” James exhaled as he felt Steve pull back again. “I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

Steve let out his own exhale right over James’s hole which only made James clench tighter. He settled into a steady, gentle stream of strokes with his tongue, switching up every few laps with a slight wriggle of the tip of his tongue at the center of James’s furl. Those little flicks sent sharp but surprisingly pleasant tingles up James’s spine, helping him ease up, his hole tensing less from Steve’s broader strokes. Steve lifted a page from James’s playbook by softly kneading his cheeks, and it did help James relax, making his noises less labored and his muscles loosen further.

“Press forward with your tongue,” James told Steve, shifting his hips up. “Slow, firm.”

James shook his head in bemused disbelief as he felt Steve’s nose brush inside his cheeks as he nodded. Steve followed his instruction, adding firm presses to the wet licks of his tongue. James felt his hole start to spread against the pressure, and, to his surprise, his body didn’t seize or struggle, nor did his mind venture to its darkest corners. He bore down and felt the tip of Steve’s tongue push past his rim. Although his brain knew it was coming, the reality of the wet, warm sensation just barely inside him surprised his body. With a sudden, fierce shudder that he couldn’t remember ever feeling before, James climaxed, heat rushing through his lower body into wet ropes underneath him on the sheets. Steve sputtered as James’s ass tightened around his tongue, and he let out a soft “Oh,” as James’s dick jerked and spilled cum in front of him. After a beat of stunned silence, Steve brought his thumb to James’s twitching rim, stroking it as his orgasm ebbed.

“That good, huh?” Steve asked, the pride in his tone unmistakable.

“Absolutely the fuck not,” James growled, looking back at Steve with bleary, overwhelmingly aroused eyes. “You do not get to gloat about this.”

“Why not?” Steve asked, bending down to kiss James’s hole before laying down next to him on his stomach. “You gloat about how many times you make me come.”

“Because it’s fun, and you blush, and you’re embarrassed by how fucking greedy you are for it,” James explained, slapping Steve’s ass with his metal hand and sucking the gasp out of his mouth. “You would’ve come all over my back if I let you.”

“Maybe,” Steve said, rolling his hips into James’s palming of his round cheek. “And you call me needy, groping me like this.”

“I’m sorry, who asked me to finger him with this?” James slipped a metal finger back into Steve's ass, rolling his eyes at Steve’s shameless little whimper. “You’re lucky we have shit to get done.”

“If you say so,” Steve murmured, leaning onto his crossed arms, looking like he was ready to go back to sleep. 

“You have an hour before I drag you out of bed,” James said halfheartedly, smacking Steve’s ass again before getting out of the bed, glancing down and grumbling at his spend on the sheets. 

“Or I pull you back in,” Steve said as James closed the door behind him. 

James used the first 30 minutes of his reprieve from Steve to clean off again, get dressed in his usual all-black attire, and brew a cup of black coffee with no cream or sugar. As he sipped from his black mug, James typed a message on his phone that said, “Come alone, 15 minutes,” and included his address, sending it to an encrypted number. In the 15 minutes that followed, he bounced between his room and the kitchen, gathering the documents he and Steve would need for their trip to Kaliningrad. He had settled into a chair, reading through a file on Natasha’s tablet with a kompromat on a Russian oligarch, when he heard Steve leave the bedroom and enter the bathroom. He only had a few minutes to smile as Steve started the shower when a knock, softer than most people would hear, came at the front door. Mentally preparing himself with a sigh, James stood up and opened the door.

“Were you followed?” James asked.

“Besides the secret agent across the street waiting to blow up the building?” Victor Schallenberg said with his trademark smirk that James could not tolerate this early morning. “Nope, no one.”

“As if you would notice,” James grunted as he backed up to let Victor inside. 

James could feel his exasperation rise as Victor looked around the kitchen and living room, his expression decidedly unimpressed and downright haughty. He briefly entertained the idea of punching Victor in the back of the head but settled on quietly regretting the extended invitation. He had no intention of spending his morning cleaning up Victor’s splattered blood when he had travel plans to finalize, nor did he want to deal with Steve’s moralizing while he helped dispose of the hefty, superpowered body.

“Nice place,” Victor said with a scoff. “Did you blackmail this place from a blind man or something?”

“Next time I need your opinion on decoration, I’ll call your wife,” James shot back, wondering if Steve would be proud of him for his attempt at sass. “Although I’m sure we’ll be preoccupied.”

“Funny you mention that,” Victor said, turning to look at James, his arms crossed. “Since the shower is running and the whole place smells like spunk. How is Captain America?”

“Cleaning off said spunk,” James said. “You’re welcome to check. Don’t think you’ll live to confirm it for me, though.”

“I could take you both.”

“Debatable.”

“Enough with the pleasantries,” Victor said, leaning against the kitchen table too casually for James’s taste. “What was so important that I had to come over here at Cap’s asscrack of dawn?”

“Dick,” James mumbled as he went to the backpack on the couch. He fished out a small silver USB-C flash drive and returned to Victor with it in his metal hand. “I figured you’d appreciate this.”

“Am I supposed to know what this is?” Victor took the flash drive, tossed it in the air, and caught it.

“HYDRA’s file on you,” James said. “The one they had in Sarajevo.”

For the first time since the bathroom in Vienna, Victor’s smirk dropped in place of a stony, ice-cold glare that screamed Winter Soldier. It properly unsettled James, but he understood and deemed it a more-than-acceptable response.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Victor’s voice was as cold as his voice, with none of his usual teasing and humor.

“I took everything from the Sarajevo site,” James explained. “Downloaded every file. When I was looking through them, I found a folder on you, buried in a bunch of folders detailing the Edinburgh site. It’s decommissioned, isn’t it?”

Yes,” Victor said.

“I guess HYDRA needed to keep the records as a safeguard. Don’t ask me why they’re there, I don’t know. I don’t know if they’re anywhere else, either. But there’s a lot in there about you. Your missions, targets, logs on your relationships with Katerina.”

Victor’s left eye made a near-imperceptible twitch. “You looked at these?”

“Of course,” James answered. “I read every file. Many of them at least three times. Yours, just once. I wasn’t that interested. Well, except for one thing.”

“Which is?”

“Who you were before you became a Winter Soldier,” James said. “That’s in there, too.”

“That’s not…” Victor shook his head.

“Possible?” James finished. “You’re looking at a man with a red star emblazoned on his metal arm and Captain America in his shower and telling me what’s impossible?” 

Victor didn’t appear to appreciate James throwing his words back at him. “What makes you think these are legitimate?” 

“They were in the commander’s triple-locked safe,” James said, holding up his metal arm, flexing his fingers to demonstrate how he opened it. “Clearly, it was a top-held secret, who you were.”

“And…?” Victor’s eyes were still set in stone, but there was a shade of expectation, however weary, in them.

“Does the name Brian Braddock mean anything to you?”

“No,” Victor said, but James didn’t believe him. He recognized that answer and tone. It was the same one he gave Steve in Budapest when he was denying who he used to be.

“Well, that’s who you were before HYDRA kidnapped you and wiped your memories,” James said. “The rest is…well, a lot.”

“What? Was I some criminal or something?”

“I’m not sure you’d believe me if I told you,” James said. “I would just say to remember what we both said about questioning what’s possible.”

“I doubt my past compares to whatever you have on with Captain America,” Victor said. “You can at least give a hint or something, for fuck’s sake.”

“Buck! Do you happen to have—”

James rolled his eyes at the perfect absurdity of Steve casually strolling into the kitchen as he tried fastening his towel to his waist. To make matters even more ridiculous, Steve looked up and froze as he saw James and Victor standing there. It was likely unintentional, but Steve held his towel open, giving everyone a tantalizing glimpse of the deep V of his hipbone and his long, thick thigh, a mile of tanned skin.

”Well, this trip just became worth it,” Victor quipped. “Hello, Captain, sir.”

Steve’s mouth set into a straight line as he knotted the towel at his waist. He looked at James, who only shrugged his eyebrows in response. 

“Victor,” Steve said coolly. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Neither was I,” Victor said. “Although I’m not complaining. Lovely view as always, Captain.”

“Steve is fine, if you don’t mind.” Steve crossed his arms across his chest but uncrossed them when he noticed that Victor’s attention had shifted to his bunched pecs. 

“Of course not,” Victor said, letting his eyes travel down Steve’s toned stomach and back to his face. “How was the shower? You look…refreshed.”

“Buck…what’s going on?” Steve wearily asked as he tried airing on the side of grace.

“Simple quid pro quo,” James replied. “Handing over his files to make good for the Sarajevo files.”

“Oh,” Steve said, looking at Victor. “Yeah, that’s…a lot.”

“So he knows, too?” Victor asked. “About who I used to be?”

“Yes,” James replied. 

Victor looked at Steve. “Do you want to tell me what the big secret is? Or are you closing ranks with your boyfriend here?”

“Um…” Steve blushed, and James couldn’t tell if it was because of what they knew or Victor’s boyfriend quip. “I think it’s best–”

“Oh, sweet Lord, you two are insufferable,” Victor interrupted with an irritated groan. “You’re made for each other.”

“Victor,” Steve said. “I’m sorry about the deception…it was…I wish we could’ve gone about it better, but you and Katerina helped a great deal. We’re going to take down HYDRA, Buck and I. They’ll pay for what they did, I promise.”

“That’s very magnanimous of you, Captain Rogers–”

“Steve,” he corrected. 

“Steve,” Victor acquiesced as he approached him, crowding into Steve’s personal space. “But as I told your assassin boyfriend over there, it wasn’t a hardship. I don’t think many people could say that they had Captain America’s dick up their ass.”

“You…would be the first,” Steve said, his eyes following Victor’s hand as it reached up and flicked Steve’s nipple. 

“Oh, I know,” Victor said, his hand curving around Steve’s pec and squeezing, pulling a surprised gasp out of him. “As I said, not a hardship. But, of course, that does leave a very important question.”

“And what is that?” Steve asked, his face flushing.

“If you’ll allow me to return the favor,” Victor answered, taking another step toward Steve and squeezing his chest again, thumbing his nipple until it hardened. “We could have a lot of fun.”

“And what about Katerina? I feel like she’d have something to say about being left out, no?”

“Oh, she absolutely will,” Victor said, smirking as his hand slid down Steve’s rib cage. “Fuck you feel good. She’d be furious. But given that you finger-fucked her in the shower, I think she’d forgive my indulgence.”

Steve sputtered in shock, and James couldn’t tell if it was from Victor’s words or his hand pushing through the slit of Steve’s towel, rubbing his thigh. “She…um…told…?”

“Yes, she did,” Victor interrupted. “And she raved about your encore performance. So, I think it’s only fair that I have my shot, no? Make you come like…well, not quite like she did. I could blow you this time. Or sit this beautiful behind on my dick?”

Steve’s throat grumbled, swallowing a moan as Victor’s hand moved under the towel and gently squeezed his ass cheek. “I…um…know what you’re working with down there,” he said, glancing down at Victor’s crotch. “I’m not sure I’d survive it.”

“Your lack of adventure is so disappointing,” Victor said, stroking his palm over the firm curve of Steve’s cheek. “I’m sure your boyfriend would enjoy it. Or did he not tell you about the pretty picture I painted for him during our shower? Me bouncing you on my lap, getting deep inside you?”

“Buck?” Steve looked over at James, who again only offered an eyebrow shrug to his mildly bewildered response. 

“So,” Victor practically drawled, tilting Steve’s head back to face him with his other hand. “What’s it gonna be? You want to have some fun? Did your Buck loosen you up enough for me this morning?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” Steve said.

“It’s not,” Victor admitted. “But it’s fun to think about. I bet it felt incredible, waking up with his cock inside you, seconds away from coming. Was that what did it? That heavy throb rolling through your ass, the heat of his cum, did that wake you up?”

“No…” Steve said, his breathing significantly more thready than it was before.

“What a shame,” Victor said. “If only I had been there. Of course, we can make up for it now.”

“Buck?” Steve looked at James again. “Seriously?”

“You can stop him if you want,” James said before looking down pointedly at the slight tenting of Steve’s towel. “Doesn’t seem like you want him to, though.”

Victor looked down at Steve’s towel and then back up, his smirk breaking into a full grin. “Well, that’s certainly promising, isn’t it, Captain?”

“I’m…” Steve blushed. “...I’m pretty sensitive…I guess…”

“You make that sound like it’s a bad thing,” Victor said, stepping closer to Steve, barely an inch between their bodies. “So…are you gonna waste that hard-on, or are we having some fun?”

“Don’t we have a plane to catch, Bucky ?” Steve asked, turning from Victor’s heated gaze to leer at James.

“We’ve got plenty of time,” James answered, crinkling his eyebrow in a blatant challenge. “You gonna make use of it or what?”

“You’re such a jerk,” Steve grumbled before James saw a glint in his eye, which usually meant Steve was about to do something irritating. Steve turned his attention to Victor and gave him a soft, knowing smile. “What you got for me, Vic?”

“You two are very interesting,” Victor teased. “The games you two play with each other. Reminds me of Katerina and I.”

“Shame she isn’t here,” Steve said, glancing at an incredulous James.

“Yeah, she’ll be disappointed…” Victor slid his hand to Steve’s crotch under the towel, and James could briefly see through the towel’s split that Victor’s hand had wrapped around Steve’s thickening length. “But I’m not especially concerned about that right now.”

“Oh…” Steve moaned softly.

“Feels good, Cap?” Victor asked, unknotting Steve’s towel with his right hand so it fell to the floor, letting James see Victor’s hand slowly stroking and squeezing Steve’s dick, making it hard and heavy in his hand. “God, you’re so fucking big.”

“Fuck…” Steve exhaled and looked at James, amused by his seething look. With a grin and another, more purposeful moan, he said. “Yeah, Vic…good.”

“You doing alright over there, Buck ?” Victor asked, his eyes darting between Steve’s dick in his fist and Steve’s increasingly overcome face. “Anything particular you want to see me do to your Steve?”

“Fuck off,” James growled, although he didn’t intervene. As frustrating as Victor’s posturing and Steve’s teasing were, he couldn’t deny seeing Steve slowly undone from a distance was warming his stomach in a not-unpleasant way. He didn’t know how far he would allow this to go, but he wasn’t opposed to seeing how close Victor could get Steve to the brink.

“Fuck?” Victor turned his head, a toothy grin on his face. “You want me to fuck Steve?” He turned his head back to Steve. “You want to give your Buck a show right here? Maybe throw you on the table over there and see how we make out?”

“Uh…um…shit…” Steve bit his lip and inhaled deeply, his wide chest rising and pushing his hard nipples into James’s field of vision. Victor clearly noticed it, too, reaching up and cupping Steve’s left pec in his right hand, rubbing the pink nub with his thumb, making Steve moan. “Buck…”

“Yeah, fuck it, we’re doing this,” Victor said, abruptly backing away from Steve, leaving his dick hard, flushed red, and throbbing, already wet at the slit. “We’re fucking.”

Victor grabbed the bottom of his grey sweater and lifted it over his head, tossing it on a nearby kitchen chair. James rolled his eyes, but he still took in the sight of Victor’s ridiculously broad back and shoulders and how they sloped down to his trim waist and thick butt encased in his black pants. Steve didn’t have the opportunity to look at Victor himself as Victor quickly crowded against Steve and pressed their mouths firmly together. Steve’s hands came around to grasp Victor’s back, mostly to hold steady as he guided him to the kitchen table and pressed him against it.

“I’m going to suck you dry,” Victor growled against Steve’s lips. “And then I’m going to bury my cock in that tight ass of yours and fuck the cum out of you.”

“I…” Steve panted, his eyes unfocused. “I thought…suck me…dry…”

“Oh, you poor chap,” Victor said, shaking his head. “You’ve never had a dry orgasm, huh? Just one more thing to cross off the list.”

Victor kissed Steve one more time before slowly making his way down Steve’s body, kissing and sucking his smooth skin and sleek muscles. His lips wrapped around Steve’s nipple and nipped at it, his tongue following after with an indulgent, wet swipe. Steve watched Victor’s head as it continued its descent, licking along the deep grooves of his abs, and then looked at James, bewilderment and carefully considered arousal burning in his eyes. 

“Enjoy it while you can, Stevie,” James warned, nodding his approval.

“Oh, he will,” Victor said as he dropped his knees and gently nipped at the thin skin of Steve’s hip.

Victor shot one last smirking look at James before he turned his head around and positioned his head above the flushed, purpling head of Steve’s erection. He lowered his mouth halfway down Steve’s shaft, sucking loudly on the heavy length between his lips. Steve threw his head back and gasped, his hands clutching the table hard enough for the muscles in his arm and chest to pop out. James moved closer to the two men and grabbed Steve’s right hand to place it on Victor’s head as it slowly bobbed up and down on Steve’s dick. Steve leaned forward to kiss James, but James held him back with a strategic hand on his right pec, giving it a deep, firm squeeze.

“You sit there and let Victor suck you off,” James grumbled as he kept groping Steve’s pec, circling his nipple with his fingers. 

“Buck,” Steve moaned and nodded, closing his eyes and letting his head roll back. 

“Yeah, he’s gonna treat you right,” James said lowly. He looked down to see Victor suckling on Steve’s tip while stroking his damp shaft. “Tug on his balls and press on his taint.”

Victor lifted his head with a loud popping sound and looked up at James. “Like I did for you in the shower?”

“Yes, like you did for me in the shower,” James said, ignoring Steve’s slightly stunned face that he could see from the corner of his eye.

“Roger that.”

Steve let out a tight, high whimper as Victor took his dick deep into his mouth and grabbed his balls, pulling them out of the way so he could press a knuckle against his perineum. James watched Steve’s blush slowly spread down across the top of his chest, and he was incredibly tempted to bend over and taste Steve’s warmed skin, but he kept his mouth to himself, settling for toying with Steve’s chest and seeing how much further he could make that blush spread. 

While James was the picture of restraint, Steve was increasingly desperate for release. His fingers spread through Victor’s smooth curls and held his head while he made short rolls of his hips, pushing into Victor’s mouth. Even with Steve’s movements, Victor moved with fluid precision, taking Steve’s dick far enough into his mouth that it had to be grazing the back of his throat. James got his answer when he heard Victor audibly gulp and Steve cry out in shock, and saw that Victor’s face was buried in Steve’s crotch. He also noticed that Victor had dropped his hand from Steve’s dick down to his pants, unbuttoning them, pulling out his own solid erection, and slowly stroking it. James was impressed not only by the turgid, intimidating length but also by how Victor managed not to miss a beat with Steve.

“Buck…” Steve whined, pushing his chest up against James’s hand. “I’m gonna come. Fuck, he’s gonna make me come.”

“No, he’s not,” James said. “Victor, back off. Now.”

Victor tilted his head up to James with his mouth still full of Steve’s dick, looking at him in disbelief. When he realized that James was serious, he dutifully backed away, letting Steve’s shaft out of his mouth, the tip dripping with Victor’s saliva and probably Steve’s precum. Panting, Steve looked down at Victor and then at James, his face red and utterly confused.

“Bucky?” Steve whimpered. “What…what the…?”

“We have a plane to catch, and you’re not done packing,” James said. “Playtime’s over.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Victor groaned. “Again? What is it with you?”

“Again?” Steve looked even more confused. “What the hell–”

“Fair point,” James interrupted. “You can jerk off and come on him.”

“Are you out of your–” Steve started.

“You son of a bitch,” Victor said, cutting off Steve as he stood up, his dick hanging out of his pants. “I could’ve been balls deep in Captain America. This is not fair.”

“You had Captain America’s dick down your throat, and I’m letting you come on him,” James said. “Take it or leave it.”

Victor grumbled before turning back to Steve, who still looked lost and brutally aroused. “Sorry, Cap. I would’ve loved to make you come, but I gotta follow your boyfriend’s rules.”

“I…”

“I’m gonna warn you now,” Victor said as he pressed against Steve. “You’re gonna need another shower. I come a lot.”

Before Steve could respond, Victor leaned his head forward and kissed Steve. He used his right hand to brace against the table while his left hand dropped to his dick, stroking it fast with a tight grip. Steve was still properly stunned, but he eased against Victor, letting him push him further back onto the table. He opened his eyes and locked them with James’s, his frustration unmistakable. James shrugged his eyebrows again, his lips creasing into an almost gleeful sneer. 

Victor pulled back and groaned against Steve’s lips, the muscles in his back and ass tightening as his orgasm hit him. As he promised, long strands of his cum landed all over Steve’s stomach, with one reaching as far up as his sternum. Steve looked at Victor with comically wide eyes, and James didn’t know if it was because of Victor’s copious release or the residual shock over having his release cruelly snatched away. He imagined it was a mix of both.

“Fuck,” Victor sighed. “That was…not as satisfying as it could’ve been. You alright there, Cap?”

“I…um…”

“I’ll take that as a ‘fuck you, Buck.’” Victor shoved his still-hard dick back into his pants, redid them, and grabbed his sweater from behind Steve to pull it back on. He turned to look back at James. “You’re a proper cunt, I hope you know that.”

“You’ll survive,” James said.

“I’m sure I will,” Victor said. “So which HYDRA site are you lovebirds gonna destroy next?”

“Kaliningrad,” Steve said, his voice and face still sour.

“Interesting,” Victor said, crinkling his nose in thought. “I’m not familiar with that one, but I wouldn’t be surprised that HYDRA would have a site there. Are you looking for something specific?”

“Just the site and whatever we need to take it down,” James said, grabbing Steve’s towel and passing it to him.

“Fair enough.” Victor’s face quickly took on a serious tone as he focused on James. “I really do appreciate the intel. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I would’ve also appreciated getting my nut off in Steve’s ass, but I guess I can’t ask for too much, huh?” Victor said with an eye roll.

“That would be correct,” James replied. 

Victor sighed. “You two…just absurd. Anyway, I’ll be clearing off. Can’t wait to tell Katerina what the fuck I’ve been up to this morning. You know where to get in contact with me if you need an assist in whatever you guys have planned.”

“We’ll be fine,” James said.

 “Even still,” Victor said. “I’m around. James, Captain.”

“Steve, please,” Steve said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Right,” Victor said, smirking again. “I guess I can dispense with the formalities since I’ve had your cock down my throat. I will be collecting on the rain check, by the way.”

“Goodbye, Victor,” James said, crossing his arms and leaning back against the table next to Steve.

“Bye, gentlemen,” Victor said, sighing and turning around to leave the apartment. 

Victor was gone for only three seconds when Steve smacked James in the chest. “What the fuck was that, Bucky?”

“What was what, Steve?” 

“Why did…” Steve stopped, blushing as he realized what he was complaining about. “Why did you make him stop?”

“Oh, that was revenge,” James said simply. “For what you said last night after I said I’d leave you with blue balls.”

“You cannot be serious,” Steve said, his eyes narrowing. “Seriously? We’ve had sex since then! You made me come twice since then!”

“Yeah, and I still didn’t forget,” James retorted. “Let this be a lesson, Captain.”

“That you’re a petty jerk bastard?”

“That no one, not even Victor Schallenberg or whatever his real name is, can make you come like I do,” James said, hushed and heated. 

“I swear to God I hate you,” Steve huffed, standing up from the table and wiping Victor’s cum off of his torso.

“How about this as a make-good?” James offered. “You get the shower started and rinse off, and I’ll get you off myself.”

“And what makes you think I’ll even let you touch me?” Steve asked.

“Because I’m gonna shove three metal fingers so far up that greedy ass of yours that you’ll feel it in your throat,” James said. “How about that?”

“That’s not even physically possible.”

“Shut up and get in the shower so I can fingerfuck you and make you come all over my face.”

“You’re such a fucking jerk,” Steve griped as he begrudgingly left the living room, the sound of the shower starting a few minutes later. Another minute passed when Steve shouted from the bathroom, “Get your ass in here!”

James couldn’t help but smile as he left the living room to join Steve and make good on his promise.

Chapter Text

James knew something was wrong by how he woke up.

No matter what had rendered him unconscious, James always awoke with a violent, skull-rattling startle. Waking up this time was gradual and languid, like emerging from a deep, heavy haze. The unfamiliar sensation made him uneasy long before he recognized his physical discomfort. The pieces of information fell into place one by one. James was sitting. He was sitting in a metal chair. He couldn’t move from the metal chair because his hands were tied behind his back, and his legs were tied to the chair. He was tied up with thick metal chains, and from his severely limited movements, James believed the chains were made with reinforced metal.

James’s head pounded, but he could still take stock of his surroundings. He was in a sharply lit, dank room with brick walls, the harsh light above him making a thin buzzing noise. Even with that small amount of visual information, James knew exactly where he was. He was in a HYDRA interrogation room. It was a room where commanders, battalion leaders, and high-ranking field agents would frequently extract information from mission targets or assets by any means necessary, violating every kind of norm of humanity in the process. James was intimately familiar with the interrogation rooms and what happened there. He had mostly succeeded in shielding himself from the worst of his times in those rooms, but he still knew that every visit destroyed a small piece of him. It was a miracle that there had been anything left when Steve re-entered his life.

James refocused on the present moment, his eyes settling on Steve in front of him, several feet away. Steve was still unconscious, slumped over, similarly secured to his own metal chair. There was a medium-sized bruise on the top corner of his forehead. The top half of his Captain America suit was missing, leaving him a blue, long-sleeve compression shirt and combat pants covered in dust and debris.

The sight of Steve sparked James’s memory of what happened before they lost consciousness. Their infiltration of the Kaliningrad site had gone as planned. Unlike Sarajevo, it wasn’t heavily fortified, so they easily snuck in and dispatched with the agents on standby throughout the first two floors of the compound. They had made it down to the third sub-level and were about to push through the main doors when a deafening sonic boom, a blinding flash of light, and a wall of fire greeted them. It was the most sophisticated and destructive counter-response James had encountered since he began his pursuit of HYDRA. It was too destructive and contained to be coincidental. Despite his foggy mind, James knew a trap had been set for him, Steve, or anyone seeking vengeance against HYDRA. Their ability to adjust their protocol so quickly in preparation for their arrival deeply unsettled James.

“Steve,” James said, trying to project even though his voice sounded raw and battered. “Steve, wake up.”

Steve didn’t respond. James ignored the sharp pain at the small of his back and leaned back into his chair, tilting it. He slammed the chair forward into the ground, hoping the loud, reverberated sound would wake Steve up. He did it two more times, the noise getting louder with each try, and Steve’s eyes finally fluttered. He coughed and groaned, his eyes slowly opening.

“Steve,” James said. “Can you hear me?”

“Buck…” Steve’s head wobbled as he lifted it to look at James. “What…where…are you…?”

“I’m okay,” James said, trying to clear his throat. “What about you?”

Steve groaned low, his head still swaying slowly, his whole demeanor disturbingly lethargic. “I don’t…head…”

“Steve, stay with me,” James said through a dry cough. “I need you…to try and focus.”

Steve blinked and tightened his neck muscles to keep his head from moving. It appeared to help, his eyes opening up more. “What…happened…?”

“Explosion,” James answered. “It was a trap.”

James thought he knew better than to underestimate HYDRA, even a significantly diminished one. If he were honest, he and Steve were overdue for failure after one successful mission after another. He should’ve planned better. He should have anticipated that HYDRA’s weakened position would make them more dangerous as they had much less to lose and could afford to be more reckless. He had allowed himself to be lulled into a false sense of security and strength, and now he and Steve were paying for it. The only question was how steep the price would be.

“Buck…” Steve’s head started to lull to the side again. “I don’t…”

“We need to get out of here,” James said, slamming his chair into the ground again to regain Steve’s attention. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

“Time…?” Steve’s forehead creased, looking confused by the word.

“Steve, listen,” James said, frustrated and worried by Steve’s inability to focus. “Can you move at all, even a bit?” He yanked against the chains, but his limbs felt heavier than usual. 

“I…” Steve closed his eyes and tried moving his arms, but they moved even slower than James had.

“I need you to try and break free, Steve,” James said, believing that Steve’s purer serum was their best shot at breaking through the chains and getting them both out of this. 

Steve nodded and opened his eyes. He tried moving his arms again, but they were still slow and weak. James knew something wasn’t right with them, especially Steve. The blunt force trauma of an explosion shouldn’t have left them as groggy, unfocused, and weak as they were. The most logical conclusion that James could draw was that whoever tied them to the metal chairs had also drugged them. Steve attempted to move his arms again before he gave up, his head falling forward as he panted. 

“Steve, snap out of it!” James shouted, a rush of adrenaline cutting through his befuddled brain. “We need to get out of here!”

“That will not be happening, moy soldat.”

James’s breath caught in his lungs, and his blood ran cold at the sound of the voice coming from behind him. He didn’t have to turn around to know who the voice belonged to; he knew who it was. That voice haunted the farthest corners of James’s mind, threatening him with memories that could tear his psyche to pieces. James had hoped that the voice was long dead, but he should’ve known better than to underestimate HYDRA’s resilience.

“It has been far too long, moy soldat .” A hand came to rest on James’s shoulder, giving it a firm, possessive squeeze. It made James’s skin recoil in disgust.

“Buck…?” Steve slurred, his eyes trying to focus on the person standing behind James. “Who…are…?”

“I am Andrei Lebedev,” the man said. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Captain Rogers, although I wish the circumstances were more…amenable.”

“Who…” Steve’s words trailed off as he hung his head low again, picking it back up a few moments later.

“I am the commander of this compound,” Andrei said. “I must say, you two came earlier than I expected. You left me quite a mess to clean up. It is good to know that our contingency was mostly effective.”

“A trap,” James said, the chill in his veins spreading throughout his body, reminding him of the seconds he could remember before HYDRA put him on ice.

“But of course, moy soldat ,” Andrei said, squeezing James’s shoulder and raising his hand to cup the back of his skull. “I did not know exactly what I was capturing, but what a blessing that it was you.” 

“Leave…him alone,” Steve grumbled, struggling with his words, but his eyes started to fill with anger. “Don’t…ugh…touch…”

“What a strange thing for you to say,” Andrei said. “Why would I leave him alone? Why would I not touch him? He belongs to me.”

Steve closed and then opened his eyes, a weak but present defiance burning in them. “He doesn’t...belong to you.”

“Oh?” Andrei sounded bemused. “Does he belong to you then? Is that why you are accompanying him on these little missions, abandoning your home country to be his guard dog?”

“He doesn’t…belong…to anyone,” Steve said haltingly but firmly.

“That arrogance led you to this moment,” Andrei said. “ Moy soldat is an asset, nothing more. It needs a handler, or it ceases to function properly. It will always return to the one it needs the most, the one who knows it best.”

“You…know nothing…” Steve’s breathing got heavier again, his head swaying once again.

“I know nothing?” Andrei asked. “Is that what you believe? Captain Rogers, I know more about moy soldat than you can conceive. I know it inside and out.”

Andrei came from behind James to stand next to him, and James saw for the first time what he looked like in the present. His short, jet-black hair was gray and longer, grazing his shoulders. His face looked significantly older than it did in James’s brief memories, with weathered skin and wrinkles in nearly every corner of his arrogant expression. Despite his visible age, Andrei carried himself with the same vigor of a young commander hell-bent on torturing James at every opportunity. James could see it in Andrei’s eyes: the playful cruelty that emboldened his depravity. It was horrifying, terrifying.

“His name is James Buchanan Barnes,” Steve said through a harsh breath. 

“Assets do not have names,” Andrei retorted. “They have designations. I am the one that bestowed the honorific of moy soldat onto it. It was a show of my preference and respect for what it could do for me.” He ran his hands through James’s hair, tightly gripping the strands and sending a sharp burst of pain through his scalp. “It was a kindness. And this is how I am repaid. It is disgraceful.“

“Let him go!” Steve tried shouting, but his words lacked force.

“No,” Andrei said. “It does not want me to, right, moy soldat ?”

James’s brain screamed for him to yank away from Andrei’s firm, repulsive grip on his head, but he couldn’t make himself move. He felt weak and not even from whatever drug was working through his system. His subconscious was telling him not to fight, that he was meant to stay still, silent, and obedient. James felt like a war was taking place in his mind, and he had no clue what side he belonged to.

“Do you not see, Captain Rogers?” Andrei asked. “Your James, moy soldat , yearns for my control over him. It always has. It needs me: my voice, my hands, my body. It needs it to survive, to thrive.”

A look of disgust crossed Steve’s face. “You’re a monster, a rapist,” he said, his voice tinged with venom.

“Is that what moy soldat told you?” Andrei asked. “That it was some hapless victim? Oh, Captain Rogers, your friend here was a willing participant. It had a voracious appetite that could never be fully quelled.”

“Stop it,” Steve grumbled. “You’re a disgusting liar.”

Andrei kneeled next to James, his hand sliding around to cup the side of his face. “You should have heard how it begged for me to fuck him, to relieve it of its desperate need for release, to be filled. Do you remember, moy soldat, how you wanted me to make you bleed so that I would not be harmed when I took you? You wanted to be slick and soft for me.”

The words flipped a switch in James’s head. They locked him inside a memory with Andrei’s past self sidling behind him, yanking his head back and holding him upright with a brutal grip. Andrei’s other hand was in the crack of James’s ass, prodding his entrance with two unyielding fingers, sending sharp knicks of pain up his spine to the base of his skull. James remembered begging, but he didn’t know if he said the words out loud; assets weren’t supposed to speak, not during acts of sexual service, unless so ordered. He knew he could handle the short-term pain of being torn on the outside rather than the extended agony of Andrei taking him dry. He could manage well enough if he were slick, even with his blood. It was one of many compromises that his mind had made while under Andrei’s tutelage; remembering it reawakened James’s feelings of crippling shame.

“You’ll…pay…for hurting him,” Steve said, his tone desperate to convey menace.

“So you do remember, moy soldat,” Andrei said directly to James, ignoring Steve’s threat. “You remember how obedient you were. You truly were my best project. So good for me.”

James widened in horror. So good for me . Those were the exact words he had used with Steve when they had slept together. The words had become a significant part of their sexual bond, a wonderful, affirming part. And they came from Andrei. James’s insides imploded at the horrifying thought, and his mind became a jumble of mismatched images and sounds from his memories. He saw Steve’s back arched in pleasure and heard Andrei’s voice. He saw himself splayed on his stomach over a metal table, Andrei slamming into him from behind, while his voice said those newly twisted words: so good for me . Shutting his eyes to block out the memories only made it worse, the clashing memories subsuming him. James thought he deserved it; he had perverted the one good thing he had ever known with unthinkable violence. It was an unforgivable betrayal. Steve deserved better than that, better than him.

“Bucky.” Steve’s voice sliced through the barrage of memories assaulting James, getting him to open his eyes and see Steve’s kind, tired, and determined ones staring back at him. “Don’t…don’t let him do this to you. You’re stronger than this, stronger than him.”

“It is not,” Andrei said, stroking James’s jaw. “It is weak without me. That is why it came back. Its subconscious called out to me, even after all these years.”

“You’re wrong,” Steve said. “We came here to get rid of you and everyone in HYDRA.”

“And yet, this is how you ended up.” Andrei looked back at James, his eyes lowering in a sickening display of desire. “Does Captain Rogers know how desperate you are for someone inside you? Does he know how you spread those beautiful thighs for me every night and then again in the morning? How you clung to me as I fucked you like you needed me to?”

“Stop it!” Steve’s voice wobbled as he tried to shout, coughing and groaning from the exertion.

“Tell him, moy soldat ,” Andrei said. “Tell him how you whored yourself out to the other assets for my amusement. Tell him how you laid on your back and let them have their way with you. Do you remember how many dicks filled you? How many holes rode your cock until you were empty? How many things did you let use your body for my enjoyment? Or can you not remember? Does it all blend because there were so many?”

James did remember, thanks to Andrei’s presence bulldozing the walls he had built around those memories, leaving them in piles of rubble at his feet. He remembered Andrei injecting him with a substance that made him painfully erect and immobilized him in a matter of minutes. He saw himself on his back on top of a mattress in the interrogation room, unable to move or speak, not that he would anyway without express orders. James remembered faceless nude bodies of men and women climbing over him, some penetrating him, others making him penetrate them. He had felt a step above nothing every time, almost like another body was experiencing the sensations. He had felt splashes of heat inside him and heated clenches around him as those faceless bodies achieved their orgasms at his expense. James’s release would follow, ripped from him with hands and fingers and organs stimulating his weakened body. Finally, Andrei was there again, whispering in his ear that he had done so well, just before exhaustion blissfully claimed his consciousness.

The memories left James’s head spinning. His insides felt like glass and were mere inches from a wrecking ball. He felt an overwhelming urge to close his eyes and never wake up. He didn’t believe he deserved to. It would be a less painful and devastating solution than Andrei’s plans. James believed that Andrei might go easy on him if he asked nicely. He knew he could be good for Andrei. Relearning the rhythms would take some time, but he could make himself good.

“Buck…” Steve said, his voice strained but firm. “What he did to you…it wasn’t your fault. I know it wasn’t. You know it wasn’t. Don’t let him trick you.”

“You speak as if moy soldat has a say in the matter,” Andrei said, looking at Steve in confusion. “You misunderstand. It belongs to me. I decide what is or is not its fault, just as I decide what it does, what it needs and wants. Everything concerning it is under my control.”

James knew Andrei was right. He had learned it the worst way. He thought of the memory that had resurfaced in Slovakia, clearer now that he wasn’t trying to surprise it. He remembered Andrei dragging him into the interrogation room by his metal arm after being shouted out by a top lieutenant over the mission’s collateral damage. Andrei chained him to the wall and beat him with whatever was available in the room. Forty-five minutes later, James was more bloodied and bruised than he had ever remembered being, even in a war zone. But Andrei wasn’t done with him. He had used James’s mouth until James had passed out from the lack of oxygen. He awoke on the floor, pain etched into his bones and blood smeared on his thighs. Aside from tiny shifts of his limbs, he didn’t move; Andrei hadn’t permitted him to move.

James drifted from the memory to see Steve staring back at him. He looked crestfallen, devastated for him. Steve wasn’t blind: he knew what was happening to James, and he knew there was nothing he could do or say to change the trajectory of where James was headed. James wanted to say something to help Steve, to make him see that this wasn’t his fault, that he appreciated him trying, but this was inevitable. He couldn’t conjure the words. He was too worn out.

“Bucky, please,” Steve said, even though he must’ve known it was a wasted effort. “You’re stronger than this. You’re stronger than him. Damn it…you’re stronger than me.”

“Look at it,” Andrei said. “It has become so weak under your care. I should have never let the Red Room take it, or Alexander. I should have reclaimed it immediately. And now I must recondition it until it is in peak form again. It will take me months.”

“That will never happen,” Steve said. “I won’t let you.”

“It will happen,” Andrei said, his hand sliding down to hold James’s neck, making him flinch. “Would you like a demonstration? Would you like to see moy soldat capitulate to me?” He turned his attention to James. “What should we show Captain Rogers? Should I have you behave like a rabid dog, licking the floor on command? That was always a fun training exercise.” He moved his fingers to James’s mouth, pressing between James’s lips, pushing through when James opened them on instinct. “Or should we demonstrate something dirtier, like how good you are at sucking cock?”

The color quickly drained from Steve’s dazed face. James had already accepted that it was happening. He didn’t have the energy to think about fighting back; the memories had zapped him of whatever residual strength he had. It was easier to let it happen. That was what he did when he first capitulated, Andrei fucking his face without a single show of resistance, and when Andrei rode him for an hour. He made the mistake of losing his erection halfway through, and Andrei punched him in the face in retaliation. It was one of Andrei’s more tender mercies, helping James learn that it was always best to give over completely.

“Don’t,” Steve muttered, the muscles in his arms tensing but still sluggish in their movements. “Don’t hurt him.”

“This is not about pain, Captain Rogers,” Andrei said with deceptive thoughtfulness. “It is about conditioning. It is what it needs. You need it, soldat , yes?”

James’s lack of response visibly disturbed Steve, and he wished that Steve would find his way out of the chains already and escape. He figured Andrei might be slightly more lenient if he gave himself over without incident. He could negotiate on Steve’s behalf. The cost would be hefty, but he would pay it for Steve.

“Let him go,” Steve pleaded, desperation bleeding into his tone. “You don’t have to do this. Just let him go.”

“Why would I do that?” Andrei asked as he slid his hand down to the left side of James’s chest, pressing against his slow-beating heart. “I did that twice, and look what it has become. I was wrong. I will not make the same mistake.”

“He doesn’t deserve this,” Steve said softly, his lips quivering. “Whatever you want…just let him go.”

“And what does he deserve, Captain?” Andrei asked. “What makes you the person to decide that for it?”

“He’s…” Steve paused, his face softening and his eyes watering. “He’s…everything.”

“You love it.” Andrei scoffed dismissively and turned to look at James. “Do you see, soldat? On lyubit tebya. This is what you have tethered yourself to for all this time. How pathetic.”

James saw in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to see before. He didn’t have the energy to shield himself from the truth. Even amidst the fear, pain, and weakness, James could see Steve’s love for him. It made him dizzyingly uncomfortable. He knew he didn’t deserve it. He had pressed his luck far enough. Steve’s love was better directed elsewhere: Peggy, the Black Widow, or another person lucky enough to cross paths with him. James pitied Steve. He didn’t seem to understand what James did: whatever he felt for James was wasted on him. He would have to let go. It would take time, but it was for the best. His friends, his Avengers, they would help him. They would help Steve forget him.

"Take me."

James was throttled from his mind’s meandering by those two words. Looking at Steve with renewed focus, he saw more than desperate affection; he saw sadness, fear, and that blistering resolve that had changed everything for them back in Budapest.

“Let him go, and you can have me,” Steve continued. “You can do whatever you want with me, whatever you want to me. I won’t fight you. Just…please…let him go.”

“Steve…” James was stunned. 

“You expect me to believe you would hand yourself over freely for it?” Alexis asked, scoffing in disbelief. “Do you think I am an imbecile?”

“I think you’re logical,” Steve said. “And you understand what having me under your control would mean. As long as he goes free, you have it.”

Andrei made a face that James knew meant he was seriously considering Steve’s ridiculous offer. “Would you really sacrifice yourself for moy soldat? ”

“I would,” Steve said. “I will. Whatever you say, whatever you want, I’ll do it. Let him go, and I’m yours.”

“And if I said I wanted to fuck you…” Andrei said, standing from the floor. “…in every imaginable way…what then?”

Steve clenched his jaw in disgust but nodded, his eyes darting away from Andrei and James as he did.

James felt anger kindle inside his chest, quickly burning everything that had accumulated since Andrei entered the room. There was no way Steve knew what he was offering to Andrei. Andrei didn’t want surrender; he demanded ownership. He wouldn’t be satisfied until every molecule of Steve’s was his. He wanted to turn Steve’s soul into dust. But Steve’s soul was made of iron. Once Andrei realized that, he would kill Steve immediately for wasting his time. 

“I am intrigued,” Andrei said, walking over to Steve. “But I will need proof of your capitulation before I allow the soldat to leave.”

“Like what?” Steve asked.

“A demonstration,” Andrei answered. “I must be sure that you can fulfill your obligation. And that you can perform at an adequate level to replace the soldat. ”

Andrei stood behind Steve, carding his fingers through Steve’s hair. Steve shuddered but didn’t try to pull away, even when Andrei yanked his head back hard. Andrei stroked the top of Steve’s head as he pressed the back of Steve’s skull into his crotch. Steve closed his eyes, grimacing against Andrei’s unyielding hold. James was immensely grateful that Andrei either couldn’t see Steve’s face or wasn’t paying attention. If he saw Steve’s visible disgust, he would’ve made his torture so much worse. 

“Do you feel that, Captain Rogers?” Andrei asked, pressing Steve’s head into his crotch again. “Does it disturb you…how quickly you arouse me? There may be hope for you.” He looked James square in the eye with a sly grin. “Does this remind you of how you proved yourself to me, soldat ?”

“Leave him out of this,” Steve glowered.

Andrei shoved Steve forward from his crotch and came around to face him. He smacked Steve hard across the face, knocking him to the left. James’s breath caught as Steve sputtered and coughed, a soft red mark blooming across his right cheek. 

“You do not speak out of turn,” Andrei hissed. “Do you understand, moy kapitan ?”

Moy kapitan , or my captain in Russian. It was the first indication that Andrei was staking his claim of ownership over Steve. James knew Steve didn’t understand the implications of what that meant, but he was horrified and sickened enough for the both of them.

After Steve nodded, Andrei moved back behind him and ran his fingers through Steve’s hair. It was a cruel facsimile of comfort, and Steve seemed to understand that, even through his attempts at submission. Steve kept his face neutral except for a few beats of disgust as Andrei’s hands slipped to rub and squeeze his shoulders. 

“You are so very tense,” Andrei said softly into Steve’s ear. “The compound was not strong enough for you.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed. “…you drugged me.”

“But of course,” Andrei said, biting at Steve’s earlobe and catching James’s steely eyes. “Both of you. I am… intimately familiar with your kind, after all. I did not, however, consider that your serum is of higher concentration than his. That was my mistake. I will not repeat it.”

Andrei’s hands slid off Steve’s shoulders down to his chest, squeezing the muscles through his shirt, Steve swallowing soft murmurs of discomfort. His fingers found Steve’s nipples and tweaked them, making them stand out through the tight fabric. “You have an impressive physique, moy kapitan . You embarrass the soldat . What a shame that you are hidden from me.”

James felt his nerve endings ignite in fear when Andrei reached behind himself, knowing what he was grabbing: a switchblade from his pants pocket. Steve quickly steeled himself when Andrei brought it in front of his face, likely expecting Andrei to cut or stab him. James knew better; he had experienced that switchblade countless times before. That wasn’t a tool of mutilation, but rather humiliation and convenience. The threat of violence was the point; debasement was the end goal.

Steve let out a shaky exhale when Andrei brought the blade to the top of his compression shirt and dragged it down, splitting the tight fabric. Andrei peeled the torn shirt back and off Steve’s shoulders, leaving it hanging over his bound hands behind him. The blade had knicked Steve, a thin but long red line jutting out from his sternum. When a drop of blood seeped from the cut, Andrei pressed his thumb to it, causing Steve to gasp out softly.

“Apologies, moy kapitan ,” Andrei said, bringing his thumb to his mouth and licking it. “I am usually more careful with my instruments. The soldat can corroborate.”

With the shirt out of the way, Andrei resumed groping Steve, his fingers digging and rubbing Steve’s flesh with a vulgar artlessness. Despite the mask of indifference, James could see the embarrassment and shame encroaching into Steve’s expression, his cheeks flushing and his eyes downcast. A brush of his nipple made Steve shudder and look up, reconnecting with James’s eyes. He jerkily nodded, trying to silently communicate to James that he was alright and could handle whatever depravity Andrei had in store for him. James could tell that Steve genuinely believed it, even though it was a blatant, tragic lie.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Andrei said, tugging Steve’s nipple, staring down at the hardening nub and catching Steve’s blush. “You are beautiful, so much more than him over there. To think of how I wasted my interest in him…it disgusts me. You are my redemption, moy kapitan .”

“Stop it,” James growled with a shaky voice.

Andrei scoffed. “You are jealous. Of course you are. Seeing me dote on another, more perfect version of yourself must disgust you.” Andrei softly squeezed Steve’s pec and traced his nipple. “Do you see how beautiful he is? How smooth and supple his physique is without losing its strength? You? You are barely human. Even without the arm, you are just a machine. It confounds me that I had any carnal use for you.”

“Buck…” Steve shook his head. “It’s not true.”

“It is, moy kapitan .” Andrei said. “Although I find your desire to spare his feelings quite touching. He pales in comparison to you. Vy chuvstvuyete sebya potryasayushche.”

James knew Andrei was right: Steve was amazing, beautiful, perfection. He also knew that Andrei would do everything he could to pervert it, try as Steve might to fight back. James could see the debasement cracking Steve’s mask, humiliation wrinkling his face as Andrei tugged and stroked him, weaponizing Steve’s sensitivity against him. Steve’s first muffled moan from the insistent stimulation of Andrei’s hands visibly shocked him, and he looked at James with an apology glimmering in his eyes. The mere idea that Steve thought he was somehow betraying him left James reeling with helplessness and rapidly growing rage at Steve’s assailant. 

Andrei, of course, was too preoccupied to see James’s quickly unraveling response to his actions. “You respond so beautifully, moy kapitan. Your body is so sensitive. It yearns to be touched, does it not?”

“Don’t…” James groaned.

“Buck, it’s okay,” Steve said before swallowing through another of Andrei’s pinches at his chest. “I’m okay.”

“He is okay, soldat ,” Andrei said, narrowing his eyes. “You have seen me touching him, yes? He is mine to do with what I want. He will be fine; he gave himself to me. Your concern is unneeded and unwarranted.”

“Please,” Steve said through another thready exhale. “You know I’ll submit. You don’t need him. You have me. Just let him go free.” 

Andrei stood up behind Steve and struck him in the back of the head with the back of his hand, knocking Steve forward. “You do not make requests or demands of me, do you understand, moy kapitan ?”

“I…understand.” Steve kept his head lowered, but James could hear his begrudging subordination.  

“The soldier must know what it is losing. It is losing me, and I suppose it is losing you as its lover. It is stubborn and requires proof that I will make you mine. It will work out for the best.”

”It will,” Steve said, clearly for James’s benefit, nodding at him.

”Now, be quiet and be a good kapitan for me.”

Andrei knelt beside Steve and rested his hand on Steve’s thigh, slowly, cruelly trailing it up until it covered his crotch. Steve was startled when Andrei squeezed him, looking down at himself in confusion.

“You are already erect,” Andrei said, squeezing the firm bulge again. “Were my hands that arousing for you? Are you that sensitive that you could not help yourself? Moy bednyy kapitan, how could I neglect you for so long?”

“It’s the drug,” James said softly. He could see from Steve’s crumbling face that he hadn’t made the connection. He, however, had it on good authority that whatever cocktail Andrei injected them with had a sexual stimulation agent. Realization dawned on Steve’s face but didn’t appear to assuage his shame.

“And what if it is?” Andrei suddenly snapped, his eyes shifting from cruel teasing to outright fury. “Who said you can interfere with my demonstration?”

“Buck, stop it,” Steve pleaded, the anxiety vibrating off him as he caught onto Andrei’s shift in demeanor. “Look, don’t worry about him,” he said to Andrei. “Just do what you want with me.”

“I will, moy kapitan,” Andrei said. “The soldier needs to see exactly how much you are mine now.”

Andrei opened Steve’s pants and pulled his flushed, heavy erection out for them all to see. “Extraordinary,” he said, running his finger up the bottom of Steve’s shaft to the edge of the head. “ It is long, thick, not as thick as the soldat, but I am not disappointed. I can make great use of this.”

Andrei spat into his palm and wrapped his hand around Steve’s length. He started slowly stroking Steve, his fist unyielding against the turgid, warm-looking flesh. Steve’s look of feigned indifference melted away, and he whimpered through the strokes, his body wavering between recoiling in disgust and acknowledging the sensations stemming from Andrei’s hand. James swore he could feel subtle heat radiating from Steve’s body, and he saw how Steve’s skin darkened with pleasure-driven warmth. Steve’s erection throbbed in Andrei’s unrelenting grip, the head starting to dampen with precum. Andrei noticed it too, collecting the fluid in his palm and using it to make his stroking smoother. Steve silently grimaced through it, disgrace and resignation to his circumstances creeping across his face. James’s stomach bubbled in disgust, his head pounding in barely suppressed rage.

“Look at me, moy kapitan ,” Andrei said as he grabbed Steve’s face and turned it towards him. “Do you know how good you feel? So hard and heavy, throbbing so beautifully. You need me to make you feel good, to feel pleasure, don’t you?”

Steve didn’t answer, his eyes darting away. Andrei smacked Steve lightly across the bottom of his face, jolting him back into Andrei’s gaze. 

“Admit it,” Andrei said. “You need me to give you pleasure, to give you release. Your cock throbs for it. You want me to make you come.”

“I…want…” Steve struggled to get the words out, biting his lip as Andrei quickened and tightened his strokes. “...stop…”

Andrei tilted his head. “Stop? No, Captain Rogers. There is no stopping us.” He stuck his thumb in his mouth, wetting it and then rubbing it over Steve’s nipple. “You gave yourself to me willingly, remember? You chose this. For your Bucky, right?”

“Bucky…” Steve looked up at James, his eyes crinkling at the edges in embarrassment but still remarkably resolute. “Buck…”

“Yes, moy kapitan ,” Andrei cooed. “Your Bucky. You are doing this for it. You are freeing it. It is a remarkable gift you are giving it…and me. I promise I will wring every drop of pleasure out of your body for your acquiescence. I will do that for you…because you, everything you are, is mine.”

Andrei’s words and how they degraded Steve made James’s skin sizzle. Steve had an indefatigable will, but even he had limits, and Andrei was chipping away at his will with every tight stroke and heated word. James knew he feared and hated Andrei, those feelings coming from the deepest part of his subconscious, where his darkest memories lived. Seeing what Andrei was doing to Steve, his Steve , fear and hatred weren’t enough anymore. James wanted to eviscerate Andrei, leaving nothing of his remains. James decided then and there that the vicious defilement of Steve Rogers would be Andrei Lebedev’s end. He would make that end as depraved as Andrei was; all he needed was one sliver of an opportunity.

“Do you feel it, moy kapitan ?“ Andrei asked with a wicked grin. “You are close to orgasm. You will come.”

“No…” Steve groaned, shutting his eyes. 

“You are.” Andrei looked at James, practically salivating. “He is so wet, soldat. Do you see?” He stroked his thumb over Steve’s slit and pulled it back, a thin strand of precum connecting them. “His body is surrendering itself to me. It wants me; it needs me. That must rankle you, soldat.”

“Stop.” Steve’s voice was small and labored, and James wondered if a second round of the drug had hit him. “Don’t…”

“I will not stop,” Andrei said, stroking Steve faster while he leaned forward and attached his lips to Steve’s neck, his lips sucking at his jugular. “I will never stop. I will make you come. I will control every time you come for the rest of your pathetic life, kapitan . And you will make me come as many times as I want. Accept this is your life now. You gave it to me.”

“Don’t…” Steve opened his eyes, his eyes weak, on the verge of pleading. “Don’t make me…”

“I will make you,” Andrei mocked. “I will make you come, and you will be mine. No one will ever want you. You will be ruined, just like the soldat . Your only worth will be what I allow for you. You will belong solely to me.”

The burning in James’s chest burst into a consuming blaze as he watched Steve use every ounce of his dampened strength to keep from succumbing to Andrei’s touch. He didn’t know how much longer Steve could hold out, and from the strain of his forehead and the shame in his eyes, Steve wasn’t sure either. All James knew was that he needed to stop Andrei and get to Steve, to rescue him just like he had countless times before. It seemed impossible given their circumstances, but James thought he felt the chains at his wrists start to give from the rattling pressure of his arms trying to break free.

“Say it, Steve Rogers,” Andrei said, squeezing the base of Steve’s shaft and drawing his face closer until he and Steve were sharing the same air. “Say you are mine.”

Steve gasped, his eyes widening in shock and horror as a heavy throb rushed up his shaft, making Andrei’s fist shake. “Bucky…please.”

With an outraged growl, Andrei shoved his mouth hard against Steve’s. He sped up his strokes again, and James could hear Steve’s muffled sounds as his body shook against Andrei. James felt his insides shatter into a million pieces, the sheer force of which gave him precisely what he needed. Before he could even consider thinking, James lunged forward with his left side, his metal arm cracking the brick wall and breaking the chains holding him back. He propelled himself straight into Andrei’s body and knocked them both over to the floor. Still chained to the chair, James grabbed Andrei’s head with his metal hand and shoved him face-first into the ground.

“He is mine,” James said coldly, mechanically, lifting Andrei’s head a few inches to see the blood dripping from his forehead. “He is mine.”

James slammed Andrei’s head back down, hard enough to hear something in Andrei’s body crack. He rolled Andrei back and saw more blood steadily spilling from the large abrasion on his forehead. Andrei sputtered, his eyes briefly unfocused before settling on James.

“ Soldat ,” Andrei muttered slowly. “You will comply.”

James felt a chill run up his spine, cold enough to lower the temperature inside his chest. He could see in Andrei’s bleary eyes exactly what he planned to do and what he planned to say.

“Soldat , toska …”

“NO!” James screamed.

James pushed Andrei backward and slammed the back of his head into the brick wall. He smashed Andrei’s head against the wall four times, each blow shattering another section of his skull. James wasn’t satisfied until large splatters of Andrei’s blood marked the wall, dripping down the cracks to the floor. He dropped Andrei’s head to the ground and quickly and methodically broke the remaining chains holding him to the chair. When fully free, James looked to the right and saw Steve lying sideways on the floor, still chained to the chair. He shuffled over to Steve and saw that he was knocked out, his eyes closed and his breathing short and heavy. He looked further down to Steve’s crotch. Steve was still erect but dry. Andrei failed to force an orgasm out of Steve. 

James made quick work of Steve’s chains, freeing him from the chair. He fixed Steve’s pants for him and gathered him into his arms, holding Steve’s head to his chest. As he sat there holding Steve, James felt like his mind was splitting in half. He was trapped between the two partitions: the man and the machine, James Buchanan Barnes and the Winter Soldier. He didn’t have the time or the energy, beyond the adrenaline searing his nerves, to figure out what it meant for his psyche. He didn’t fight the split, letting the two operate as needed.

James’s attention was focused on the unconscious Steve, rocking him slowly back and forth, trying to comfort him with his flesh hand rubbing Steve’s back. The Winter Soldier, meanwhile, was calculating escape routes and how many operatives remained in the compound that he needed to dispatch. It figured it could leave Steve in the room and dispatch with them within ten minutes, or 15 if it carried Steve on its back. It preferred the less complicated path, but it doubted James would let Steve be left alone, even for a moment. It decided it could make either scenario work.

“Bucky…?”

James looked down and saw that Steve’s eyes had opened into slits, his hand clutching James’s shirt, his body shivering.

“Buck…I’m…” Steve moaned into James’s shirt.

“Shhh…” James said, his voice trying to convey warmth even with the Winter Soldier there. “You’re okay, Stevie. You’ll be okay.”

James felt the Winter Soldier inside him emerge, pulling Steve against it and holding him with the metal arm as it stood up from the floor. “No one hurts you,” it said to Steve in a cold, exacting tone, borrowing James’s words. “No one hurts you.”

The Soldier pulled Steve’s arms around its shoulders, trusting Steve to hold on as it walked them to the door, easily ripping it off its hinges with the metal arm. It followed instinct down the darkened corridor to another room. The Soldier knew the room was one of three armories in the compound, having visited it several times to reload its cadre of weapons before embarking on one of Andrei’s missions. The Soldier could feel James at the fringes of their shared mind, keeping a close eye on how Steve was doing in their arms. The Soldier moved quickly, grabbing a Glock, a silencer, and several magazines. It figured there were, at most, seven agents left in the compound who could pose a limited risk to their safety. The others would flee immediately upon seeing them. The Soldier posited that it only needed one magazine to eliminate the combatants, but it grabbed the others as a precautionary measure.

“Bucky…” Steve moaned again, squeezing his arms around James’s shoulders. “I can help…let me…”

“No,” the Soldier replied. “It’s not complete.”

“Complete…?”

The Soldier ignored Steve and left the armory with the Glock in its right hand and the metal arm holding Steve upright. As it worked its way up the staircase and through the corridor on the floor above, the Soldier noticed that Steve’s back was stiff, clearly uncomfortable. It wondered if Steve could tell the difference between the two of them and was responding accordingly. It allowed James to settle next to it. James used the metal hand to slow and gently rub Steve’s back while the Soldier moved the rest of the body, shooting a patrolling agent in the head before he could notice them and stepping over his remains. 

“Just breathe, Stevie,” the Soldier allowed James to murmur in Steve’s ear while it shot two agents running down the steps to confront them. “Just keep quiet. We’ll be out soon.”

Back in full control again, the Soldier continued its way up through the compound, ducking into stairways and sneaking up behind unsuspecting agents, either smothering them with the right arm or shooting them behind their back and in front of their faces. The Soldier didn’t mind the splatters of blood that quickly accumulated on its face, although it did try, for James’s benefit, to keep Steve clear from it. On the second floor, the Soldier noticed a door with Komandir emblazoned on it. James posited that it was Andrei’s office, and the Soldier decided they couldn’t leave until they had collected whatever files were in the room. It ignored James’s protest and fisted the door open.

“Hold these,” the Soldier said after emptying Andrei’s safe into a nearby briefcase and reaching behind to hand it to Steve. “The mission is nearly complete.”

Steve nodded, murmuring his acknowledgment into the Soldier’s shoulder. The Soldier wanted Steve to stand on his own so that exiting the compound would be more efficient, but James snarled at him in their mind. The Soldier accepted the conditions, leaving the office and heading back into the staircase to get to the main floor. As the Soldier had anticipated, the last human barrier to their exit was the most complicated: a broad, hulking man who seemed to exist solely to fight enhanced beings. Despite James’s reservations, the Soldier lowered Steve against the wall. The Soldier overrode James’s concerns, figuring it could dispatch the agent in a reasonable time frame with little to no complications.

To the agent’s credit, the Soldier spent two minutes longer than it had initially calculated on eliminating the agent. The agent did capture the Soldier’s weapon, which required it to resort to hand-to-hand combat. It preferred using a weapon, as it needed less exertion and cleanup. Apart from a few punches to the head that left it more susceptible to switches with James, the Soldier did eliminate the agent with a tight squeeze to the throat, snapping his neck and leaving him in a crumpled heap on the floor. The Soldier pulled Steve back into its arm and carried him out of the compound.

It wasn’t until it arrived at their car seven miles down the road that the Soldier surrendered control of the body back to James. It was James who gently lowered Steve into the backseat, reaching forward to squeeze Steve’s shoulder. Steve opened his eyes again, appearing more focused than when James saw them.

“You got us out,” Steve said.

“Yeah, Stevie,” James said, cupping Steve’s cheek. “We got out. I told you you were gonna be okay.”

“You…saved…”

“Doesn’t matter,” James interrupted Steve, not wanting to investigate the myriad ways he failed Steve then. “All that matters is you’re alright. You just rest back here. I’ll get us home.”

“Buck…” Steve’s eyes watered, and shadows of the shame and frustration that Andrei had made him feel started to appear. “I should’ve…”

“No,” James said firmly. “Rest, Steve. Do you understand?”

Steve took a deep breath and nodded, closing his eyes and rolling his head to the side to lay against the car seat. James closed the door and entered the driver’s seat of the car. He reached for the smartphone he had stashed under the navigation console. James scrolled through the short list of contacts on the phone and was unsurprised to see that Natasha’s name was listed, even though he had never and would never take her number down. Nevertheless, he pressed her name.

“Hello, James,” Natasha’s relaxed voice said after two phone rings.

“Meet us in Kaunas in four hours,” James said, his tone clipped. “Steve needs help. Don’t tell anyone. I’ll brief you when we get there.”

Hanging up the phone and tossing it back under the console, James looked in the rearview mirror, seeing that Steve was already asleep in the backseat. He then looked at his reflection in the mirror. James wanted to see if anything had changed in his expression since he had last looked. He only gave himself ten seconds before he looked away. He knew he would see the difference if he looked a few seconds longer. James didn’t want to know, not yet, perhaps not ever.

What he wanted to do, needed to do, was drive.

Chapter Text

“He’s asking for you.”

James didn’t look up to see Natasha walk into the living room of the safe house in Slovakia. He kept his eyes trained on the blank television screen, trying to will himself into getting lost in the emptiness in front of him. Meandering through the darkness seemed much safer territory than wherever Natasha wanted to coax him. 

“Is he alright?” James asked, seeing through his peripheral vision that Natasha had sat in the chair to the left of him on the couch. 

“He will be,” Natasha answered. “Bruce looked over the labs and said the drug cocktail should be fully out of his system by tomorrow morning. You too.”

James was quietly, begrudgingly grateful for Natasha’s ability to compartmentalize. When she had met them in Kaunas and saw Steve’s condition, she allowed herself three seconds of unbidden worry before packing it away and taking charge. Within hours, she had arranged their cloaked travel to Slovakia, connected with Bruce Banner in New York, gathered the necessary supplies to take James and Steve’s blood samples, processed them at a local hospital that she paid off for their discretion, and sent the results to Banner. James didn’t have the energy to push back, not when his reserves were dedicated to holding his splintered mind together and keeping Natasha from noticing how off he was. From how she glanced at him then and the energy wafting off her now, he was pretty sure he failed.

“Before you go in there, you need to pull yourself together,” Natasha said, not unkindly. 

“I’m not going in there.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Widow,” James shot back harshly, leaning on the familiarity of antagonism.

“You’re going in there because you want to,” Natasha said, unaffected by James’s outburst. “And because Steve wants you to…needs you to.”

“He doesn’t need me,” James said gruffly, softly. 

“This is why you need to get yourself together,” Natasha reiterated. “He doesn’t need you like this. He’s gone through enough.”

James abruptly turned towards Natasha with leering eyes. “And what do you know about what Steve’s been through?”

“Very little,” Natasha admitted. “But that’s because you haven’t told me what happened to you two. Unless, of course, you want to tell me now.”

James turned back around to the television. This time, he couldn’t lose himself in the black screen, not with images of Steve and Andrei swirling around his head and Natasha’s eyes boring holes into the side of his skull.

“I can make assumptions based on the blood work,” Natasha added. “But I have a sneaking suspicion that you’re sick and tired of people telling your story for you.”

“My story doesn’t matter,” James said. 

“It matters to Steve, which means it matters to me,” Natasha said. “At least for the time being.”

James scoffed. “You were right, you know.”

“I usually am,” Natasha said. “What was I right about this time?”

“That I would hurt Steve. That I was a danger to him.”

“Except I never said that,” Natasha countered. “I said it was possible you would hurt Steve, not an inevitability. And I told you not to do it.”

“Well, I did,” James said. “I hurt him.”

“And how did you allegedly hurt him?” Natasha asked. 

“I should’ve never let him go with me,” James said. 

“The last time we were here,” Natasha said. “You said you knew Steve better than I did, presumably better than anyone else. If that’s true, you should know that you can’t stop Steve from doing what he wants. And he wanted to help you, whatever the consequences.”

“Even if those consequences were Steve getting–” James stopped himself, dangerously close to describing what Andrei did to Steve. He didn’t feel he had the right to say it out loud.

“Yes, even then,” Natasha said. James looked at her witheringly, and she added. “The labs showed sildenafil in both of your systems. I told you I could infer what happened.”

James turned away before Natasha could see his face crumble, staring down into his lap. “Steve. Steve was.”

“By?” Natasha asked.

“Andrei,” James answered, although he didn’t know if Natasha heard him with how softly he spoke. “The commander. My old handler.”

“Was he…?” Natasha let her question drop off, but James knew what she was asking; she wanted to know if Andrei was the handler that the Red Room effectively rescued him from.

“He was,” James said. 

“And he made you watch,” Natasha said with a tone that sounded a lot like pity.

James nodded. “I killed him before he…” He swallowed and cleared his throat. “Before he could finish Steve off.”

“I see. I’m sorry, James.”

“I don’t need your apology,” James said bitterly. 

“Maybe not,” Natasha said. “But you have it. No one deserves what you two went through.”

“What Steve went through,” James corrected. 

“No…” Natasha said. “What both of you went through. And what you went through…before with him.”

The weight of Natasha’s words compelled him to look at her again, taking in the glimmers of empathy in her expression. “What…did I…?”

“You didn’t talk about it much,” Natasha said. “But sometimes…you’d have nightmares. Flashes. One time, it got so bad that you vomited. That’s when you told me some of what he had done to you. I’d like to think it helped, talking about it.”

James pictured himself lying in bed with Natasha, her head on his chest, her fingers tracing the arched scars where the metal arm began. He couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he recognized the look on his face: the muted pain of recollection. He also noted how his flesh arm tightened around Natasha’s waist, pulling her close as if she were his only source of comfort in the world.

“I can’t trust my own mind.” James looked over at Natasha. “I see us in bed together, and I was telling you something, something important and terrible. I don’t know what it was. I don’t even know if it was real or something I made up.”

“It was real,” Natasha said, and James believed her. “Like I said, you were guarded most of the time, so when you opened up, it mattered.”

“What did I tell you?” James asked.

“The specifics don’t matter,” Natasha replied. 

“Yes, they do,” James said. “I don’t need you to protect me from the truth. I don’t want that.”

Natasha paused for a moment, and James could tell she was trying to decide what to disclose. “You talked about how your handler ‘made use’ of you. I don’t think you had the language to call it what it was, but it was very clearly rape from how you described it. You said he used you a lot. It depended on his mood, how a mission went, if he was bored. You said sometimes you could shut yourself off, but other times, you couldn’t. He wanted you to participate.”

James nodded, silently wondering if the Winter Soldier emerging in Kaliningrad counted in the same way.

“What matters is that you aren’t responsible for what he did to you,” Natasha said more emphatically than James could ever remember hearing from her. “Just like Steve isn’t responsible, either. You know how he is; he’ll blame himself. And you know where that leads.”

James did know: it led to Slovakia. He didn’t want Steve in that state again, ever again.

“I don’t know how to help him,” James said, the admission causing a wave of misery to crash on top of him.

“You go in there and be who you are to him,” Natasha said. “I don’t know what that means exactly. I only got a glimpse of it, and I still don’t fully understand it. But I do know that it’ll help Steve. Whatever you have to do or be for him, do and be it.”

James sat silently for about ten minutes, caught in Natasha’s directions, trying to dampen the urge to run away or shut down altogether. He hadn’t finished, an errant feeling of shame bouncing around inside his brain, but he decided he had waited long enough and stood from the couch. He looked at Natasha one last time, unsure what he wanted or needed from her. He got a nod and a soft smile, surprisingly free of irony. It made James feel better, which in turn made him feel uneasy all over again. He couldn’t say for sure, but that unease likely played a part in him slow-walking to the bedroom and holding the doorknob for a few beats before opening the door.

“Took you long enough.”

Steve was sitting in bed, flipping through a magazine that James knew Steve couldn’t read because it was in Slovak. It was a strange sight. The last time they had been in that room together, Steve was still neck-deep in a suffocating depression. The Steve in front of him seemed entirely different. The clothes were mostly the same, a black crewneck and sweatpants this time. The large bruise on his forehead and the various cuts on his face and neck were already healed. His skin looked clearer, a healthier glow than he had when they first arrived at the safe house. James noted the band-aid on Steve’s arm where he had his blood drawn, but he figured that was mostly unnecessary. He dared to think that, all things considered, Steve was okay.

But then James looked into Steve’s eyes. They were dimmer than usual, but not as much as last time. James could also see that there was heavy labor in Steve’s gaze. Steve was trying to look like he was fine. It wasn’t an outright lie; Steve was a terrible liar, and he probably honestly believed he was fine. However, as Natasha pointed out, James knew Steve better than anyone else. He knew Steve wasn’t all the way right.

“So Captain Rogers got enough beauty sleep?” James asked, trying out a teasing tone and a faint smile as he sat down with his left thigh resting on the bed. 

“Something like that, yeah.” Steve’s smile was warm but tentative.

“Well, good,” James said, his smile slowly fading. “I’m–”

“I’m alright, Buck, really,” Steve interrupted, his own smile fading into a straight, solemn line. “Nat said–”

“I’m not worried about what the Widow said,” James interrupted back. “You were always gonna be fine, physically. Serum and all that.”

“Oh.” Steve looked down at his lap, his fingers fiddling with the magazine pages. “You’re worried about—”

“Yeah,” James said, sighing in frustration at cutting Steve off again. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

“I…um…” Steve kept his eyes on the magazine. “Can I be honest?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“I don’t know how I feel about it,” Steve said, looking up at James. “A part of me feels like it didn’t happen to me. Like I was outside of my body or something. That…probably sounds stupid.”

“It doesn’t.” James couldn’t have related more to that feeling. It’s one of the only ways he could survive as long as he did.

“Ok,” Steve said. “And there’s part of me that feels it. His hands, the way he looked at me. It makes…” He shuddered and absentmindedly scratched at his left arm.

“Say it,” James said.

“I feel sick,” Steve exhaled, his fingers pressing into his arm. “It makes me want to rip my skin off…more than usual.”

“More than…?” 

Steve suddenly looked embarrassed, looking back down at the magazine. “Oh. It’s nothing, really.”

“I don’t believe you,” James said.

“Do you need to?” Steve asked, trying for a soft smile that James could easily note as a poorly realized deflection.

“Yeah, I do. If I can’t believe you, what point is there to anything?”

“Buck…” Steve dropped the smile, his eyes withering.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine,” James said. “I don’t need you to talk. But when you do, it needs to be the truth.”

Steve’s face tightened, but he held James’s gaze. “I…sometimes, I don’t feel right…in my body. Maybe I never have, not really. Like in my head, I’m still that sick, skinny kid.”

James pulled out the memory of him, as Bucky, carrying Steve out of that alley, this time allowing himself to remember how fragile Steve felt in his arms. He then recalled holding Steve for the first time in Budapest, his muscles thrumming with steady, irrepressible power. He wondered if Steve felt the way he described either of those times.

“It’s easy to not think about it when there’s a mission because…” Steve stopped for a second. “My body can fight, help people. But when it’s not…I guess I don’t know what it’s for.”

It’s for being a weapon, James thought. James’s body had the same purpose. The difference was that Steve was always meant to be more despite the United States government’s pallid shortsightedness. He deserved more than being state property.

“When Andrei was…doing what he did,” Steve continued. “I felt like my body wasn’t my own again. And it was…responding to him. Like I was enjoying it.” He looked down away from James, his face contorting in shame. “I felt…I feel…wrong.”

“Steve…” James resisted the urge to touch him, worrying that he might set something off inside of him, a response James was intimately familiar with.

“Can I ask you something?” Steve looked back up at James. 

James nodded.

Steve closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again. “Is that what it was like for you? With him? HYDRA?”

James’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t wanna know that.”

“I do,” Steve said with a hesitant nod. “I know what happened wasn’t anywhere near–”

“It’s not a fucking competition, Steve,” James snapped, immediately regretting it. “Fuck, I didn’t mean–”

“I know,” Steve said softly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…We haven’t really talked about it. I guess I knew…practically what they did to you…but I don’t know if I really understood what it made you feel.”

“Like I was nothing,” James said, sharpening his vocal cords so his voice didn’t waver. “You say you felt wrong. I felt nothing. I wasn’t supposed to feel. I was supposed to obey. I was a vessel, nothing more. And when I forgot that, when I remembered to feel…”

“Bucky…”

“He’s dead,” James said, retreating from the mental ledge he found himself on. “It’s over.”

“Because you stopped him,” Steve said. “Before he…went too far. You saved me…again…”

“I didn’t...” James thought of the Winter Soldier that resided in him, caving in Andrei’s skull and meticulously murdering the remaining agents as he carried Steve out of the compound. He thought of himself holding Steve on the floor, his hand slowly rubbing Steve’s back. He wasn’t sure what his split psyche had done constituted “saving” Steve. “Saving” Steve would’ve been not putting him in the situation in the first place.

“You did,” Steve said. “That’s not up for debate, Bucky.”

“You shouldn’t have been there,” James said. “I should’ve gone alone.”

“That wasn’t happening,” Steve said firmly. “That’s not up for debate, either.”

“You always have to make it a damn fight,” James muttered.

“When you’re talking like this, you’re damn right. I’m making it a fight,” Steve shot back, his eyes burning. “We’ve been through too much together for you to try and do this.”

“Do what?” James asked. “What have you decided I’m doing?”

“You…” The flames that briefly emerged in Steve’s eyes suddenly cooled. “You’re trying to push me away.”

James didn’t think he was trying to push Steve away, but he wasn’t surprised by either Steve interpreting it that way or him doing it subconsciously. It was the right thing to do, even though it would hurt Steve, and James swore he wouldn’t. 

“I’m not pushing you away,” James said. “I’m just stating facts.”

“Ok…” Steve said, his eyes looking down again. “You’re missing two facts, though.”

“Am I?”

“The fact that I…” Steve hesitated. “What I said to Andrei. And what you said to him before you killed him.”

James was about to express his confusion when three sets of words played over in his head: Steve’s to Alexei, Alexei’s in Russian to James, and James’s, or the Soldier’s, back to Andrei.

“He’s everything to me.”

“On lyubit tebya.”

“He is mine. He is mine.”

James looked at Steve and saw the same expression he had seen in the interrogation room. It was the closest approximation to love that James knew how to identify. It was as open and honest as it had been then, and it still sent an aching chill down his back, pooling at the small of his back. 

“I won’t say it again right now,” Steve said softly. “It doesn’t feel right. I don't want it associated with this . I want it to be free of it. But it’s how I feel, Bucky.”

“I don’t—”

“Bucky, no,” Steve interrupted. “I don’t want to, not right now. I just want you to know. Can it just sit for a while? Please.”

James shuddered in discomfort – from what he didn’t know – but nodded in agreement. He could let it sit. It was a strange request coming from Steve; he was someone who had never met a confrontation he couldn’t bulldoze his way through. It was noteworthy that Steve didn’t want to resolve the issue of his feelings for James at that moment. On the other hand, James was more than okay with letting Steve set the course. The words and their implications would be heavy between them anyway. They were both too worn out to interrogate them, anyway. 

“What do you want from me, Steve?” James asked, sounding harsher than he meant. He tried again, “What can I do?”

“Could you just lay with me for a little while?”

James wanted to protest, using a flimsy excuse about Steve’s injuries, but he also knew he was no match for the look in Steve’s eyes. That blend of yearning and bashfulness would’ve been ridiculous coming from anyone else, including what most people assumed Steve to be. He knew better. It was Steve as his most vulnerable, and it sparked a need inside James to burn everything and everyone to that ground that made him that way. James would rather just lay next to him, keep an eye on him, and give him even a fraction of the safety that Andrei had viciously ripped from him. He could do at least that. 

James kicked off his boots and settled into the space Steve had made for him on the bed, lying beside him. He had expected Steve to roll over so his back was pressed to James’s front, but Steve faced him instead. Steve shifted closer until only an inch of space was between them. He grabbed James’s left hand, intertwining his fingers with James’s metal ones. 

“I know you probably won’t believe me,” Steve said. “But your metal hand, it feels good.”

“I do believe you,” James said. “It’s weird. You’re weird, but I believe you.”

“You’re such a jerk,” Steve said, rolling his eyes before pulling James’s arm around him, bringing the hand to his back and the hem of his shirt. “Touch me?”

James slipped the metal hand under Steve’s shirt, holding it on the small of his back, stroking the dip of it. His memory supplied the silky feel of Steve’s skin as he rubbed the metal fingers over the spot. He resented not being able to feel for himself, but the soft sigh as he pressed against Steve’s back was enough satisfaction for the moment.

“I want to forget,” Steve said, closing his eyes. “That he ever touched me, that I let him.”

“You didn’t let him,” James said, slowly sliding his hand up Steve’s back. “You did it to save me.”

The corners of Steve’s mouth turned up. “So you can accept me doing it, but not yourself?”

“Shut up, Steve.”

Steve huffed and burrowed closer to James. “I think we’ll be okay, Bucky. If we have each other, I think we will.”

James didn’t know how much he believed that, but he kept the thought to himself, drawing his hand back down to the bottom of Steve’s back and making small circles with his fingers. 

“Keep touching me,” Steve murmured. “Please, Make me forget him. Make me remember you, James.”

Steve shifted closer so his and James’s bodies were flush together. James moved his right arm underneath Steve and pushed his hand up the back of Steve’s shirt. With his hands rubbing Steve’s back, James lowered his head to Steve’s neck, gently kissing the column to the edge of his ear. Steve melted into him, and James could feel his skin warm.

“Shhhh…” James kissed just below Steve’s ear. “Just let me hold you, okay?”

“Bucky…please…” Steve’s voice cracked on the last word, and he buried himself in the crook of James’s neck, his arms encircling James’s torso.

“Just…” James almost told Steve to be good, but he stopped, sickened by how Andrei had defiled those words. “Let me treat you right, Stevie.”

Steve hummed his assent, and James felt him start to relax, surrendering to the slow strokes of his hands and his breath exhaling warmly on Steve’s neck. With Steve pliant against him, James slowly rolled Steve onto his back and other side and then pulled him into his chest, realigning their bodies. Steve wasn’t asleep but kept his eyes closed, settling easily against James’s front. James felt the soft rattle of Steve’s lungs against his chest, and he slid his hands under Steve’s shirt, his metal hand resting on his stomach and his flesh hand on his chest. Steve sighed, and James pulled him tighter while keeping his hands’s touches soft, light, comforting. He was perfectly fine staying like that for as long as Steve needed until Natasha inevitably interrupted them. Even then, he doubted he would move, not when Steve wanted and needed this from him.

“Steve…” James said softly.

Steve didn’t respond; instead, he pressed himself back against James and exhaled again. James decided not to push, settling himself into a state of quiet. What he meant to say but kept to his thoughts was technically against Steve’s request for a reprieve, but he didn’t care. He would be alright, even if Steve never heard the words again. James said them anyway in his mind, for himself.

You are mine.