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Bucky's Sunshine

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“The Asset will be out of containment for too long. The words can only do so much. With Dr. Ivchenko gone, keeping him under control while out of the cryo for so long will be…difficult.”

 

HYDRA commander Vance sighed. He had read the red book, he knew of the protocol. But Dr. Ivchenko’s loss due to Agent Carter’s interference had thrown a real wrench in his plans. This extraction would cost time, money and effort. It would be months of reconnaissance, possibly a year long mission. He could not afford to assign a less-talented agent- more importantly, the material was so sensitive that he could not risk another agent running off with it. No, they needed the Asset. His obedience was crucial to the mission.

 

Commander Vance leaned back in his chair and sighed, turning to the new Doctor HYDRA had procured from who-knows-where. The man was slim, with a bald head and almost menacing spectacles, but Vance was certain that whoever he was, he had more degrees than could fill a wall. Vance would trust his word on this.

 

“Well then, herr Doctor, what do you suggest?”

 

The Doctor smiled, a normally chilling sight. If Commander Vance was not the man he was.

 

“The Asset, all he knows is punishment. We must give him a reward. Then threaten to take it away. He will be more obedient for one kind touch than for a thousand harsh cuts.”

 

Commander Vance frowned.

 

“You want us to reward him with a whore? Will a woman be able to withstand him?”

 

The Doctor shook his head.

 

“Dr. Ivchenko’s notes indicate homosexual tendencies.”

 

Commander Vance sighs again. “A man could be a problem. Men have greater urges to fight back. The Asset would kill him.”

 

The Doctor nods his head in agreement. “The Asset needs… a pet. Someone he can take care of, someone to provide him with love. Someone who will not provide a physical threat that the Asset can control. Someone to give him that illusion of control, even if it is through violence.”

 

Commander Vance finally smiles. The Doctor fights to keep from flinching- it is not a pleasant sight.

 

“I know of just the boy for him. Prep the Asset for awakening.”

 

----------------------

 

His mother was the first to die. When HYDRA came into his small town in the middle of the mountains, they had dragged her out of the house. Steve had never felt so small as when one HYDRA soldier effortlessly held him back, hand on his throat as his weak lungs struggled for air.

 

He passed out after they put the bullet through Sarah’s head. She had been executed in the middle of the small town square, one of ten people shot down that day. The town had quickly fallen into place after that happened. They provided HYDRA with civilian cover as the new fortress and lab was built in the heart of one of the deepest mountains. They provided food and women. In return, HYDRA provided the small town with a booming economy and protection from… well, whatever was worse than them.

 

The town had fallen into place. Steve Rogers had not.

 

He had become a joke amongst the agents. Little Steve Rogers, 5’3” of can-do-spirit. Little Steve Rogers, whose knuckles were almost always bruised by picking a fight with various HYDRA agents. His beatings were always public, and shameful in nature. They never killed him- they were having too much fun trying to break his spirit.

 

They clearly knew nothing of the man that was Steven Grant Rogers. Every split lip, every broken rib just hardened his resolve. He would die on his one-man mission, of that he had no doubts. But Steve Rogers did not fear death.

 

He would face it when the time came, teeth bared and bloody, fists clenched.

 

-------------------

 

Steve spits blood, then puts his fists back up, dancing on his feet even as his vision swims and he sees 4 HYDRA goons instead of the 2 that cornered him in the alley.

 

“I can do this all day,” he hisses, aware of how raspy his voice sounds. The HYDRA goons laugh, then one pulls a gun with technology Steve doesn’t recognize. Purple lightning comes out of it and hits Steve with a jolting pain- he’s never experienced any pain like it. And that’s saying something. Steve’s experienced a lot of pain in his 19 years.

 

He hits the ground with a thud, body convulsing as he loses consciousness once more to the sound of HYDRA laughing at him.

 

--------------------

 

Steve wakes to a world of pain, which is nothing new. What is new are his surroundings. He’s on a clean linen bed, and a nice one at that. He’s colorblind as all hell, but he thinks the room he’s in is actually grey. It’s also freezing cold, and if it weren’t for the fancy bed he’d think he was in a jail cell. There’s a little hallway, where Steve assumes the bathroom is. He can’t even feel any of the springs that plague his back in his own room. He groans and sits up, and instantly regrets it. His head is pounding.

 

As if on cue, the metal door to his room opens with a deafening bang. Steve groans and grabs his good (left) ear. He squints as 5 fully armed HYDRA men march into his cell, standing to the side and at attention. A few moments later a man in military uniform with a HYDRA badge enters the room, heels of his polished boots clacking on the cement floor.

 

Great, the man in charge likes to make an entrance.

 

“Ah, the little man is awake. Excellent.”

 

Another guard brings in a chair. The man in charge sits down with an air of arrogance, smoothing his jacket as he settles in. Steve already can’t stand this guy, and he’s been in his presence for less than 20 seconds.

 

“I am Commander Vance. I have selected you for a very special assignment.”

 

Steve spits on the man’s face.

 

The Commander wipes the spit from his face with another guard’s sleeve, as two of the guards zap Steve with their stun guns. The Commander sits patiently as he waits for Steve to stop convulsing. Then he waits for Steve to finish coughing up the blood in his mouth from biting his tongue too hard.

 

“I have been informed of the host of your medical problems, Mr. Rogers. It is likely that your heart cannot bear much more of the strain of electrocution.”

 

Steve gasps and focuses on breathing. His body is shaking, but the tremors are subsiding. It unfortunately looks like he’ll survive this.

 

“While I have your attention, I’ll continue. You have been selected for a very special assignment. Failure will get you electrocuted. Disobedience will get you electrocuted. And that is just what I will do to you. I will interfere with no punishment that the Asset decides to discipline you with.”

 

Steve glares at the Commander, but with his swollen tongue he cannot respond.

 

“The Asset is your assignment. You are to be his pet. Keep him happy, and you will be allowed to live. Feed him, clothe him, fuck him. Whatever he wants.”

 

Steve’s eyes go wide at the last part. How can they… how would they know about him being a fairy? How do they expect him to do any of that with whatever the hell an Asset is?

 

Steve’s never even been kissed before. And now he’s… he’s supposed to…

 

“Refuse, and I shall give you to the men. All of them.”

 

Steve wills himself not to cry. He puts all of his fear, all of his anger and frustrations at the somehow shittier hand he was just dealt into the glare he gives the Commander. But he remains silent. He may be a reckless thing, but he’s got a brain on him. He knows when it’s time to make his move.

 

Steve nods once. The Commander smiles. Steve almost flinches.

 

“Vundebar. The Asset is out of containment and is expecting you. You are to give him a haircut. Be careful- if he thinks you are a threat, he will kill you.”

 

With that, the Commander turns and leaves the room. A guard follows him with the chair, and Steve watches as 3 of the other guards leave while one remains, watching as Steve shakes less and less. The guard waits until Steve sits up slowly, and Steve glares at him as he stands on shaky legs. His voice is strong and calm.

 

“Take me to him.”

 

------------------------

 

The Asset does not understand the parameters of this mission.

 

He has been… given something. Something all his, something to possess. If he wants to keep it.

 

The Asset has never been asked what he wants. Not that he can remember.

 

But this boy is to be his… his pet. If he is good, he gets to keep his pet. He gets to do whatever he wants with his pet. A part of him scoffs at the idea that HYDRA could use this, his sexuality, as a way to control him. But that part has been silenced for a long time. The Asset waits in the meantime, patient and collected. As he was trained.

 

“I’m goin’, I’m goin’- hey, watch it!”

 

The Asset’s eyes snap to the door. His face almost betrays an expression at the display of rebellion. He has not seen such an act in a long time. The voice belongs to a small, slim blonde man who is being shoved into the room. His movements are jerky, and the Asset recognizes the signs of electro-torture in them. Yet the blonde man stares defiantly back at the guard, blood still staining his lips.

 

They are a perfect shade of red. The Asset has an incomprehensible urge to bite them viciously.

 

The Asset blinks, and focuses his attentions on assessing the possible threat. It hardly seems necessary- the small man must weigh 110 pounds soaking wet. He has little muscle definition that the Asset can see, and his movements are clumsy in a way the Asset believes might not be just from the electrocution, but from a sight defect of some sort. When the blonde man squints to take the Asset in, the Asset knows he is correct.

 

Still, he is not expecting the small man to gaze at him in such a manner.

 

The small man gapes at him, eyes widen in what the Asset would call attraction if such an emotion would not be ridiculously out of place in this setting. Then his gaze sharpens, assessing the Asset in turn. The Asset tilts his head, amused that such a… little pale boy…. would assess him like a predator. Whatever the pale boy sees in him is wrong, because his gaze then softens into an expression the Asset almost does not recognize:

 

Pity.

 

The Asset suddenly feels incredibly small under the pale boy’s gaze. As if everything he’s so successfully kept buried, kept deep down in the recesses of his chest like they told him to has unbearably been brought to the light.

 

The Asset scowls at the small pale boy. How dare he make the Asset feel anything? The Asset shall rip him limb from limb, he shall peel his flesh from his bones, smother himself inside the small, pale boy’s chest and never let go.

 

The small pale boy gives a soft, small smile at the Asset under his eyelashes, and the scowl falls from the Asset’s face like rainwater down a window.

 

The small pale boy waves the guard off and strolls confidently to the center of the room, where the Asset is seated next to a tub of water, scissors and some shaving cream. He walks with an air of confidence that does not belong about his body, but somehow the Asset believes that others would follow his commands. The Asset would.

 

“Leave us. I’ve got this sorted.”

 

The guard snorts and shakes his head in disbelief. Then he walks out of the room as easy as you please, and the Asset stares after him in disbelief. The pale boy does not even acknowledge that the guard has gone. Instead, he goes right up to where the Asset is seated and plants himself before the chair, hands loosely held at his sides in a stance that screams “non-threatening”.

 

“Hey there. I’m Steve, and I’m gonna be your…friend. For awhile, anyway.”

 

The Asset does not respond. He does not know what the word “friend” means in relation to his person. Steve seems to expect as much, and continues on.

 

They want me to give you a shave and a haircut. You OK with that, tough guy?”

 

There are inflections on the words “they” and “tough guy”. The Asset recognizes that this is sarcasm, but he cannot imagine why Steve is being sarcastic. Both of those statements are correct.

 

Steve seems to expect this as well. The Asset is beginning to suspect nothing really phases the little whippersnapper, and a small warmth blooms in his chest. If he could recognize the emotion, he would know that this was fondness. It swells further when Steve nods and smiles again at the Asset, as if they are sharing a secret when all they have done is met each other.

 

“Alright then, let’s get started.”

Chapter Text

The Asset refuses to lean back in the chair so Steve can wash his hair. They argue- well, Steve argues, the Asset sits there stoic and unmoving. Finally Steve throws his hands up, exasperated, saying,

 

“How am I gonna cut it then Ass- hey, what is your name?”

 

The Asset shakes his head and repeats in monotone, “The Asset has no name. The Asset has nothing.”

 

Then his eyes go to Steve, and he looks slightly panicked and somehow scared as he says, “But the Asset was…given Steve. So the Asset has Steve. So the Asset… can say no to Steve?”

 

The Asset phrases it as a question, and Steve’s heart breaks a little. God dammit, the muscled, hairy man with the metal arm is not adorable Rogers. Get it together. But Steve finds himself nodding back despite himself.

 

“Yeah, yeah of course you can buddy. You can always say no to me, and I can say no to you, right? Because they gave you to me too, right?”

 

Steve is smiling at the Asset in the same soft, conspiratorial manner as before, and the Asset finds himself nodding back despite himself. Then Steve breathes what seems like a sigh of relief and gives the Asset a genuine smile and the Asset- the Asset feels what’s left of his heart fly out against his ribcage, trying desperately to get to Steve. Steve nods back at the Asset, and the Asset nods at him, and they look like two nodding idiots in their dingy HYDRA cell.

 

The Asset can’t ever remember feeling this way.

 

Then the Asset says, “So…the Asset will not lean back. Not in The Chair.”

 

The way the Asset says “The Chair” makes Steve’s heart breaks again, and he wishes the Asset was comfortable with personal touch because he has an incomprehensible urge to climb into the Asset’s lap and hug him. Steve looks at the Asset again, really looks.

 

His first impression was that the Asset was that he was the most gorgeous man he’d ever seen. Especially shirtless, in black army pants and boots. And despite the scruff. His second impression, once he’d told his lower region to calm down, was that the Asset was dangerous, possibly the most dangerous man he’d ever seen. That had inexplicably not helped his lower region problem.

 

Then the Asset had tilted his head, almost playfully, and Steve saw what the Asset really was- a fellow captive, just like Steve. Except the Asset had been trapped for longer, and had become lost in his cage. Steve had formed his plan then and there: befriend the Asset, and get him to help Steve escape. It’s a good plan- simple plans are the best, his ma always said.

 

So Steve coughs and looks at their materials, head tilted in a way that makes the Asset’s fingers twitch to touch him. But the Asset will not touch- Steve is obviously clean and innocent. The Asset has filth seeped into his bones.

 

“OK, here’s what we can do. I can shave you first, then I can use the small bowl with the water to wash your hair and give you a cut. It’ll be messy, but hey- some goon will just clean it up, huh?”

 

The Steve gives that conspiratorial smile and winks at the Asset, and the Asset almost gasps. He finds himself nodding again, even though the idea of anyone holding a razor to his neck is a terrible idea. But the Asset cannot even fathom the idea of saying no.

 

(The little voice screaming inside his chest, the one that’s constantly telling him to fight back and say no no NO, has gone silent. Well, not completely silent. But the Asset could never say those thoughts to Steve- they belong on the tongue of a smoother, happier man).

 

So the Asset nods and leans back, keeping resolutely still as Steve picks up the shaving cream.

 

Steve’s heart is racing wildly, and he makes a note to ask for one of his breathing sticks when he gets the chance. HYDRA clearly has an interest in keeping him alive. That will not matter though, if the Asset decides he’s a threat. He got a brief rundown of what (who, he reminds himself, who) the Asset was- HYDRA’s best and most feared assassin. Frozen between missions and only brought out for the most dangerous work, the Asset has his brains “scrambled” every time, and is brought to heel with a series of code words.

 

Steve’s stomach had turned in sympathy, but right now his problem is more immediate. He swallows the lump in his throat and steadily applies the shaving cream to the Asset’s cheek. The cheek is the least threatening part of the face, and from here Steve can pretend to paint on the Asset’s face. That calms him a bit.

 

The Asset has to fight the urge to close his eyes. This gentle touch makes his skin feel like it is shining, like everywhere Steve coats him is floating away. The Asset does not even flinch when the cream is applied to his throat. If he could, the Asset would purr.

 

Instead he sits, motionless. But Steve keeps his eye on the knot in the Asset’s back, and he knows that the Asset is relaxed enough. So he puts the cream down when he is done painting on the most beautiful canvas he has ever had, and picks up the razor.

 

Game time, Rogers.

 

“OK. buddy. I’m gonna shave you now. That means that this razor is coming towards you, but it’s OK cause it’s me, and I don’t wanna hurt you. I’m not like them, right?”

 

The Asset nods tensely.

 

“Right! Great. I’m not gonna hurt you. So don’t hurt me, right?”

 

The Asset does not nod. Steve does not take that as a good sign.

 

“OK, here I go. I’m gonna talk to you the whole time, alright? Don’t answer that, it’s a rhetorical question. Don’t move, I don’t want to accidentally cut you. I’m gonna start with your cheek, OK?”

 

Steve moves slowly, cautiously. Like he’s approaching a mountain snake. Which is ridiculous- he’s not afraid of mountain snakes. He keeps the razor where the Asset can see it the entire time, and while the Asset never directly looks at it Steve somehow knows his attention is fully on the razor.

 

A full minute later, Steve finally presses the razor gently onto the Asset’s left cheek.

 

The Asset jerks away violently, shaking. Steve jerks back as well in shock and drops the razor.

 

“WOW, OK, easy there, easy. Well- no, no it’s alright it’s OK!”

 

The Asset is breathing furiously out of his nostrils and shivering, almost convulsing in the chair. Steve leaps up and acts without thinking. He grabs the razor and presses it into the Asset’s hand. Then he guides the Asset’s flesh hand to cup his cheek, while bringing the metal (non-shaking) hand with the razor to his throat.

 

“See, see? No one’s gonna hurt you here. Except maybe you, bucking all over the place with a razor at your neck. Hey, that’s what I’m gonna call you, OK? Bucky. So calm down Bucky, calm down. It’s all OK Buck, you’re OK. Shhh shh, it’s OK Bucky…”

 

Steve repeats this mantra over and over again, the Asset’s eyes wildly searching his face. Steve is reminded of a cornered, wounded animal. But he just keeps stroking Bucky’s hand that’s cupping his cheek, keeps talking to Bucky and murmuring sweet words. Then, out of blind desperation and pure instinct, Steve kisses the Asse- Bucky’s palm.

 

Bucky jolts, then whimpers and closes his eyes, as if in pain. Steve does it again, kisses every finger, kisses the palm, kisses each knuckle. When he looks back at Bucky he sees that Bucky is crying, but that’s alright because Steve is crying too.

 

“Hey, it’s alright. I mean, you’ll smear your make-up, but that’s *kiss* alright. I’m having a bad day too- not you’re fault. You’ve actually been the best *kiss* part.”

 

The Asset chokes on a sob. Then he expertly flips the razor and hands it to Steve.

 

“Do. It.” He grits out. Then he goes motionless again, and Steve rushes to comply. Steve keeps talking to Bucky, but he doesn’t try to kiss him again.

 

“OK, left cheek now left cheek. You’ve got great bone structure, the artist in me appreciates it. Well, not much of an artist. Unless you ask my ma, which you can’t. HYDRA killed her last winter. Not that that’s your fault! None of this is, I can see that. OK, right cheek now. Anyway, I’d probably want to paint you, but I haven’t had nice oil paints in years. So it’d have to be charcoal. Maybe pastels? But you’re full of such color-

 

(“I’m not,” thinks the Asset “They burned out everything inside me. Only gray ash remains.”)

 

“- don’t give me that look, you are! So I guess charcoal will do. OK, the throat. Gonna approach from the right side to the left, cause that’s the reverse of slicing someone’s throat. Should not have said that. Should NOT have said that. Anyway, I’d love to draw you sometime. If you can sit still long enough. That was a joke. Don’t laugh. Aaaannndd done!”

 

Steve steps back, panting. The Asset blinks.

 

“Stay there, I need to grab the washcloth. Great job! The hard part’s over.”

 

Then Steve brings a lukewarm washcloth to the Asset’s neck and wipes away the cream, slightly watered from Bucky’s tears.

 

All the grime, all the muck. Erased with Steve’s touch. When Steve’s fingers and skin touch his own, the Asset would swear he feels sunlight. Steve finishes and locks eyes with the Asset, and the Asset feels the warmth in his chest swell and fill up his entire body, singing in a crescendo that has the Asset leaning forward to gently knock his head against Steve’s. Steve doesn’t move, and the Asset begins to nuzzle their heads together.

 

Steve swears his heart can’t ache any more for this man, but somehow it does.

 

“That’s it, good job Bucky. Now let’s give you a nice cut, alright?”

 

The Asset nods, and whispers, “You- I say you can touch me.”

 

Steve smiles and cups Bucky’s cheek. “Will do, Bucky. Will do.”

 

--------------

 

The Asset is humming. Quietly, under his breath. Steve isn’t quite sure he’s aware he’s doing it, but it is the most beautiful song Steve’s ever heard.

 

Steve forces himself to talk over it, which is the real tragedy.

 

“Could never sing myself- not with my bum right ear. Deaf in it since I was 8. And that’s not my only problem, let me tell you-“

 

And Steve does. He lists off his various health ailments, from his lungs to his heart. All the while he takes cup after cup of water and drips it slowly over Bucky’s head. It drips down, down Bucky’s beautiful brown hair. Some of it drips down Bucky’s chest, and Steve tries not to stare as one drop drips down to Bucky’s now low-hung pants, right down his happy trail and under-

 

Inappropriate, Rogers. Get it together.

 

Then Steve’s eyes go a bit further (he’s not a saint) and widen, because the Asset is hard. Straining under his pants is an impressive bulge, and Steve is torn between panic and complete and utter want.

 

How would that fit in him? And why did he suddenly want to try?

 

Steve’s never even been kissed, but here he is, practically drooling over an almost-stranger’s cock and wondering if Bucky would pull his hair or kiss him soft and lick up his neck before biting down and-

 

Stop it. Stop it Rogers.

 

So Steve keeps talking, ignoring both erections in the room and running his fingers through Bucky’s hair. It's not a real sacrifice- now that they're clean, the brown locks are silky smooth and part almost sensuously around Steve's fingers.  The motion is mesmerizing to Steve, and he feels his hands become addicted to the simple petting motion, the human touch.  It's been so long since he's touched someone in such a fashion.

 

Bucky finally closes his eyes halfway through the cut, the trace of a smile about his eyes. Steve keeps stroking his hair the whole time, running his fingers over his face and shoulders (even the metal part) and simply enjoying the view. By the time he’s done Bucky looks like a new man, and Steve is leaking in his pants because God. DAMN.

 

Bucky looks good clean-shaven. Like a real charmer, sharp angles around his grey eyes with almost baby-cheeks. His hair is still slightly longer than the style of the time, but it can be swept back from Bucky’s eyes. Steve feels like swooning. That could be all the blood that’s flown south for the winter.

 

“OK gorgeous, all done!” Gorgeous? God, what is WRONG with you Rogers??

 

“Come and look at yourself, Bucky.” Steve flips over the metal bin that was housing the water, accidentally spilling the remaining bits on his shoes. Least of his problems right now.

 

Bucky sits up and obediently looks at the wash bin. His eyebrows raise, and he looks at Steve in surprise “You did a good job.”

 

Steve blushes. Bucky wants to lick at the blood under his skin.

 

“Well, I mean, I had a real good customer. That’ll be five центов please.”

 

Bucky shakes his head, and haltingly speaks (he has not joked in recent memory “I have no money, радость.”

 

Steve blushes further, and Bucky feels, for the first time in recent memory, relieved to have said the right thing.

 

“W-what’s that mean? Р-pадость.”

 

Bucky tilts his head and smiles, sweet and predatory, and Steve feels his heart fly out against his ribs to desperately reach towards that sight.

 

“Sunshine. My sunshine.”

 

Steve feels his face burn red. Bucky continues, “I can say no, so you can say no. I press razor to your neck, so you press a razor to mine. You give me a name, I give you a name.”

 

That’s the most Steve’s heard Bucky say, and Steve instantly adores his voice. It’s the only thing about Bucky that seems even slightly tender. Steve shakes his head.

 

“But- I already have a name. And you still owe me for the shave and haircut.” Steve cocks an eyebrow, challenging. Some might even call it flirting.

 

The Asset rises, smooth as a panther, muscles coiled in controlled beauty. Steve gulps and stands still, frozen at the sight of the slightly damp, perfect specimen of manhood currently stalking him in a HYDRA dungeon.

 

“I do. The Asset pay my debts.” Bucky doesn’t quite purr, but his voice has dropped and is graveled in desire.

 

Steve shudders and gazes up at Bucky, eyes wide. “Wh- How?”

 

Bucky gently lifts Steve’s chin in his metal hand, so all Steve can do is look up at Bucky’s eyes. Steve doesn’t flinch from the metal. He is too busy being struck by the difference in those eyes- how there seems to be a hint of a human behind them now, as opposed to the nothing that filled them perhaps an hour ago when he met the Asset.

 

“A kiss.” Bucky replies, and before Steve can react a soft pair of lips are pressed against his own.

Chapter Text

Bucky’s eyes are open when he kisses Steve, wanting to observe every sensation of their first kiss. Steve’s eyes are wide open as well, but only because he has no idea what to do. He freezes, unsure and almost panicking. Bucky draws back a bit, eyes questioning as Steve stammers,

 

“I- I’ve never been kissed.”

 

The Asset does not react, but it’s a near thing. He waits. The Asset is patient.

 

“And- and I just-“ then Steve reaches up and slots his lips onto Bucky’s, eyes closed this time in concentration. Bucky exhales sharply as he feels Steve teeth through his lips, the pale small boy kissing him too hard. It’s the best thing Bucky has ever felt.

 

CLANG. The door opens.

 

The Asset jumps back and goes stock still, face expressionless as he turns and stands neutrally in the center of the room. Steve falls on his rear, as the Asset’s hand on his chin was the only thing keeping him upright. He lands with an ‘oof’ but is back on his feet quickly, brushing off his pants and muttering a “Jerk” at Bucky.

 

The Asset does not even look at Steve, eyes dead as he stares ahead, unseeing. Steve suddenly feels the most scared he has been since waking up in this prison.

 

“Break it up, fairy. You can get on your knees when you two get back to the cell.” One of the two HYDRA goons snarks, and his partner laughs. The Asset does not move, and awaits instruction. Steve sees red.

 

“You wanna come a little closer and say that, coward?” He spits, already marching towards the guards on the stairs.

 

The Asset does not move. Steve is not responding correctly- disobedience will get him punished. Steve is so small, he will not survive. The Asset can-

 

The Asset does not move. The Asset does not think. The Asset awaits instruction.

 

The guards are laughing, especially when Steve swings. The Asset wonders how he ever considered Steve a threat- his form is terrible. The guards easily evade his fists, laughing. Then one slaps Steve straight across the face and Steve goes down, still swinging. The Asset thinks he manages to get one guard on the shin.

 

The pale small boy catches himself on his palms, facing the Asset. The Asset can see him grimace, and knows he has scraped his palms on the cement floor. Yet the first thing Steve does is hold out his now bloody hand to Bucky in a placating gesture. As if to calm the Asset down, to stop him from reacting to what has been done.

 

The Asset does not move. The Asset does not even blink. The Asset had not even considered interfering, and for that revelation the Asset feels another part of himself shrivel in shame. It sounds like the small voice the Asset never hears anymore.

 

Steve gets to his feet, eyes down. This- the Asset already knows that this posture is all wrong on Steve. Steve is defiant, Steve is unbroken. His head should be held high, always. But Steve’s head is down, why? Then Steve’s gaze flicks to the Asset’s own, and the Asset feels as though he has been stabbed with an ice pick because-

 

Steve believes he is sparing the Asset by not fighting back. He knows- he knows the Asset’s shame. He knows that the Asset is helpless, that the Asset is and unworthy, useless thing that cannot fight back, cannot have anything.

 

Not even Steve. Not without conditions.

 

The Asset feels a broken part of him shift, slicing into his insides in a manner so much worse than usual because he isn’t supposed to feel anything anymore but he feels so much pain in this moment he is shocked he can stand.

 

But Steve is standing. Steve listens to the guards laugh, fists clenched and stiffly follows them as they lead the Asset and his “pet” back to his room. The door shuts behind them.

 

Steve turns to Bucky to say something, but the Asset does not acknowledge his presence. Instead, he strides forward and lies down the floor next to the bed. His arms are by his side, and he closes his eyes. The Asset becomes eerily motionless.

 

Steve stares. And stares.

 

“Buck?”

 

No response. The Asset does not move.

 

“Bucky? What’s going on? Can they hear us in here or something?”

 

“No. Go to sleep.”

 

Steve gapes.

 

“Excuse me? Buck, what’s goin’-“

 

The Asset turns over on his side, back facing Steve. Steve feels his face flame up incredulously. After- they’d just shared Steve’s first kiss! They were in this together, how could Bucky be so moronic?!

 

“Don’t be a jerk!” Steve hisses as loudly as he dares, taking the short step between them and lifting his leg, giving Bucky’s back a light kick with the inside of his boot. The Asset does not stir. This somehow makes Steve even angrier. He bends down and shakes Bucky, trying to get him to turn over. The Asset does not move, and after a few minutes of Steve’s cursing he wrenches his shoulder away. Steve sits back, stunned. Hurt.

 

Good, the Asset needs to distance them. The Asset is not worthy of Steve’s touch, of Steve’s hands on his own (even Steve’s violence he’d take and take gladly, thanking Steve after he was through). The Asset will protect Steve from afar.

 

He does his best work from miles away.

 

---------------------

 

Steve finally cries when the Asset leaves the next day. The guards open the door and the Asset moves, with the fluidity of a man who had not spent the night on a stone floor. He does not glance at Steve as he walks out.

 

The door slams shut, and Steve finally allows himself to burst into tears on the small pillow. He stifles his sobs into the pillow and cries.

 

He cries for his mother, shot because she meant something in his small village and thus had to be removed. He cries for his country, one of the few not rescued by the Allies after WWII and constantly going from bad to worse. He cries for his village, a once proud people reduced to cowering savages, ready to stab each other to gain HYDRA favor. He cries for himself, wishing he had the body to match his idealism, wishing he could fight back better.

 

He cries hardest for Bucky. He cries for the man lost to HYDRA, for the poor soul that is clearly trapped and struggling, scratching to get out but constantly failing. He cries for what Bucky and he could have had.

 

When Bucky returns that night, fully debriefed, he pauses just inside the doorway. This time it is Steve on the bed, back turned and pretending to be asleep.

 

On the floor is the one pillow.

 

The Asset lies down without a word. He does not move when Steve whispers, “Goodnight, Bucky.”

 

------

 

When the Asset returns the next day, Steve has rearranged the room. The bed is now in the other corner, facing furthest away from the door. Steve has taken his belt buckle and is scratching his name into the wall. He pauses when the Asset enters, but the Asset does not say a word and lies down next to the bed, head resting on his pillow.

 

Steve goes back to scratching. He doesn’t say a word to the Asset, and the Asset does not move.

 

When the Asset leaves the next day, he sees the markings “& Bucky” on the wall next to Steve’s name. The Asset… moves a little more quickly out of the room.

 

Steve almost smiles for the first time in 2 days.

 

-------

 

Bucky goes away for 7 days. Steve etches every single one on the wall, next to their names. No one asks, but Steve always figures he can say ‘Bucky’ is his actual boyfriend that he’s been separated from and pining over.

 

Not that he’s actually pining over Bucky. It’s just boring without his solid, unmovable presence. Even though he doesn’t say anything, the air in the room moves differently with him in it. He puts Steve on edge and comforts him at the same time, and by the 3rd day Steve resolves to try and talk to Bucky again. Now that the initial sting of rejection and embarrassment over Bucky’s quasi-rejection (he knows his first kiss attempt was terrible, but maybe if he had another shot-), Steve wants to try.

 

Even if he is still mortified he practically attacked Bucky with his clumsy, feverish attempt at a kiss. Steve Rogers is no coward, and by the 5th day he has resolved to get at least 2 words out of Bucky when (if, a terrible voice in his head whispers) he sees him next.

 

By the 6th day Steve has gone through every horrible scenario that could be keeping Bucky away from him. Somehow, the worst is that Bucky doesn’t want to see him. That they found Bucky a newer, more experienced lover and HYDRA is just playing mind games until they feel like shooting Steve.

 

On the morning of the 7th day, the door opens.

 

The Asset walks into the room with a slight limp, hand badly bandaged and holding a small jar. The door clangs shut behind him.

 

Steve leaps up from the bed and rushes over, clucking over Bucky like a hen.

 

“We have GOT to find a way of letting me know when you are going to be gone longer, that was the longest 7 days of my life. Come on come on, sit on the bed and get off your leg! Why are you limping, what happened?”

 

The Asset blinks, dumbfounded. His handling by the Doctor was cold and impersonal, the only questions asked were about his physical status. No one bothered to ask how. He could not remember the last time that he had been asked ‘how’ or ‘why’.

 

“I… jumped. From the 3rd floor. It was tactically advantageous.”

 

“Yeah? Well, it was also tactically a stupid idea.”

 

“Yes, that too.”

 

Steve looks up from where he was knelt, rolling up Bucky’s left pant leg.

 

“Did you just make a joke, Buck?”

 

The Asset stares back, dumbfounded. He thinks he did, so he nods slowly.

 

Steve smiles at him, blindingly bright in the darkness of his life. Bucky feels warmed for the first time since his haircut, and gives Steve the softest of smiles back. Steve feels that smile as a physical balm on his heart, which seems to beat properly for the first time in his life.

 

“Oh yeah, smile. Laugh it up. Meanwhile I’m just sitting here by myself worrying, while you’re off trying to jump to your death.”

 

“That won’t work. I think- I think I tried once.”

 

Steve closes his eyes and fights down the wave of nausea. That’s not what Bucky needs from him. He looks up and gives Bucky another smile, kinder than the previous one.

 

“Well, don’t try again. Can’t go off and leave me now, can you? We’re in this together now, right?”

 

Steve looks up at Bucky and cocks an eyebrow expectantly. He prays Bucky can’t hear how fast his heart has started beating.

 

His worries are for naught. Bucky reaches out and grasps his hand tightly, staring into Steve’s eyes as he swears,

 

“Together. We are together in all things.”

 

Steve tears up a bit, but Bucky just squeezes his hand a bit tighter. Steve blushes a bit and looks away shyly, as Bucky is so damn tired he forgets that he’s not good enough to touch.

 

Steve clears his throat and nods towards the jar in Bucky’s hand.

 

“Is that some balm for your hand?”

 

Bucky shakes his head. “They said it would make penetration easier.”

 

Steve chokes on air, and Bucky rubs his back soothingly as Steve takes several breaths and tries to keep from having an asthma attack. Bucky keeps rubbing Steve’s bony back, feeling the misshapen nature of his spine as Steve finishes taking Bucky’s boots off. He takes Bucky’s socks and wraps Bucky’s swollen ankle, admiring of all things the shape of Bucky’s calves.

 

“Come on to the bathroom, I want to wash your hand and re-bandage it.”

 

Bucky follows Steve, who tugs Bucky along by the hand with no resistance. Bucky stops right behind Steve so that he is trapped between Bucky and the sink, and has to brush against Bucky’s muscular chest to turn around.

 

“Buck, c’mon. Let me see your hand.”

 

Bucky holds out his hand, eyes teasing.

 

“Your injured hand, jerk.”

 

“Punk,” Bucky replies, but he holds out his injured hand anyway. Steve quickly unwraps the bandage, complaining at the poor wrapping.

 

“Geez, whoever did this never busted his knuckles.”

 

Bucky smiles, “The Doctor didn’t seem like the type for physical labor.” Steve smiles ruefully at Bucky,

 

“If I had a pencil for every time I had to wrap my own knuckles, I could stab him for ya’.”

 

Bucky chuckles, then looks wide-eyed at Steve. He clearly forgot he could make such a sound. Steve beams though, determined to make Bucky laugh at every possible opportunity.

 

“There, all done.” Steve finishes wrapping Bucky’s hand, but when he goes to let go Bucky grabs his fingers.

 

“Kiss it to make it better. That’s what… that’s what people do, right? People who care about each other?”

 

Steve blushes and thinks of how his mother used to kiss his cuts and bruises, despite his protests. He forces a laugh and looks at their intertwined hands, saying self-deprecatingly,

 

“Yeah, Buck, they do. Don’t know if you’ll want my kisses though- last time we tried that I ended up flat on my ass.”

 

Bucky grips Steve’s hand tighter and frowns, shaking his head.

 

“That wasn’t- no. They- if they see us together, caring, they’ll use it. You don’t understand what they can do when you care about something. That’s when it hurt the worst.”

 

Steve keeps his head down but nods, rubbing his thumb across Bucky’s knuckles.

 

“I figured, I’m not mad about that Buck. It was just quite a reaction to my first attempt at kissing.”

 

Bucky sighs, hating seeing Steve doubting himself even for a moment. It looks all wrong on his angelic face, so Bucky gently tugs Steve to the bedroom, sitting down next to him on the bed. Steve still won’t look at him, but Bucky holds up their still connected hands.

 

“Kiss it, please?”

 

Steve rolls his eyes but kisses the back of Bucky’s palm, same as he did when Bucky held a knife to his throat. Bucky whimpers and leans into Steve’s body, pressing his forehead to Steve’s temple as he whispers,

 

“That- you gave me sunlight, pадость. I was in darkness, then there was you.”

 

Steve chokes on his breath and turns his head, looks into the profound sadness, desperation and want in Bucky’s eyes and he can’t resist. He surges up once more and kisses Bucky again, a little less firm but no less passionate.

 

Bucky smiles a bit at the familiar feeling of teeth against his lips, moves his head back a bit and angles his lips against Steve’s own.

 

Steve takes the hint to relax and lets himself take a breath and then- oh.

 

Oh.

 

Bucky’s lips are as soft as they look, and he’s painfully gentle with his kisses, brushing them against Steve’s with aching tenderness. Steve allows himself to be lulled into an embrace with the hypnotically sensual brushes of lips, and then Bucky’s tongue brushes Steve’s bottom lip and Steve gasps and-

 

Steve surges forward, molding himself to Bucky’s form and responding eagerly. He presses his slim body to Bucky’s and the Asset wastes no time, wrapping up Steve in both arms and bending back until they are reclining on the bed, Steve on top of Bucky. Steve fists his hands in Bucky’s hair, holding on for dear life as he is quite literally swept off his feet.

 

Steve feels fire licking at his skin, like he’s burning up from a fever. Bucky’s skin and smell surround him, and he feels safe and cherished in his arms as Bucky enthusiastically, desperately, responds to Steve’s touch. Steve moans and whimpers, and each time Bucky hitches him just a tiny bit closer until Steve can feel Bucky’s hardness against his leg and he’s gasping for air, wanting more more more-

 

Then Bucky’s hand scrapes down his back to grab Steve’s surprisingly plump ass, manhandling him until both their cocks are rubbing together and Steve rears back, staring down in awe at Bucky as he cums with a sharp cry in his pants, shuddering in Bucky’s arms.

 

Bucky’s eyes go wide and almost frantic, as he shoves his flesh hand down Steve’s pants to feel his cooling cum and Steve’s overly-sensitive cock. Steve moans and wiggles, not sure if he wants to get away or shove his cock into Bucky’s palm. He doesn’t get the choice, as Bucky’s metal fingers wind into Steve’s hair and he brings Steve’s face to his own, giving Steve a biting kiss as Bucky’s own hips thrust almost painfully against Steve’s own once, twice, thrice before he cums as well, biting Steve’s lip hard enough to draw blood.

 

Bucky falls back against the bed, panting. His head feels heavy but astonishingly clear, as if he can think clearly for the first time since- since before.

 

His only thought is ‘Steve Steve Steve Steve’

 

Bucky’s eyes are on Steve, who shakily touches Bucky’s face while licking tentatively at the small drop of blood on his lip. Bucky groans softly and feels his cock pulse again, and Steve blushes as he gives Bucky a chaste but loving kiss on the lips. Bucky licks away the remaining blood on Steve’s lip and grins, and Steve feels his heart wrench at the sight.

 

Steve kisses Bucky all over his face, his cheekbones, his eyes and his lips. Then after a few minutes he goes to get to their one towel in the bathroom, wiping himself off. His cum got out of his trousers and up his stomach a bit, not to mention some of Bucky’s that spilled out of his combat pants.

 

“You know Buck, next time we should definitely try and take off our clothing. This is gross.”

 

A small hum is his only response, and Steve rolls his eyes fondly again when he sees Bucky has gotten under the covers. Steve tosses the towel to him and Bucky catches it, eyes closed. Steve’s eyes linger as Bucky’s hand disappears below the covers, wiping in motions that sear into Steve’s memory. The towel is tossed back to him with perfect accuracy, and Steve resolutely does NOT try to smell it.

 

“Get in,” Bucky mumbles, and Steve grins and shimmies over Bucky to take his place on the mattress, next to the wall (Bucky is clearly the protective type). Buck instantly handles Steve so that he’s lying on Bucky’s chest again, Bucky’s metal arm wrapped around Steve’s shoulders.

 

Steve falls asleep soundly for the first time in months, listening to the beat of Bucky’s heart.

 

Bucky sleeps and doesn’t dream.

Chapter Text

They take Steve the next morning.

 

They give the order for the Asset to stand still and at attention, which he does in the corner of the room. He thinks nothing of it.

 

He realizes that his boots are still off when the guards come in and drag a sleepy Steve out of bed, marching him out the door.

 

The Asset has time to evaluate all of his tactical errors while he waits for them to return Steve.

 

He doesn’t understand why he is being punished. The mission is going accordingly, perhaps even better than is to be expected. Why this punishment, why now? What are they doing to Steve?

 

The Asset closes his eyes and bangs his head against the wall until that thought is silent.

 

------------------

 

The Asset is brought before the Commander the next day. He has spent a cold, sleepless night without Steve in a bed that is now too spacious with one body in it. The Asset is on edge, and he knows it shows but he can’t help it. The Asset also knows this is what they want to see- they want to see him suffering. After all, if he does not suffer it is not an effective punishment.

 

“The Doctor did not want me to take him, but I thought a point had to be made. When you behave, he stays with you. When you misbehave, he stays with my men. If you ever try to cross me, I will give him to them for company. Do you understand?”

 

The Asset nods, just once. His face betrays no emotion, but the toes in his right boot curl (it was always the little defiant voice in his head’s way of expressing displeasure).

 

“I gave him to you. I can take him away on a whim. How much pain do you think his frail body can take?”

 

The Commander leans in and asks mockingly, a cruel sneer on his face, “Would you like me to tell you when he started to cry?”

 

The Asset does not move.

 

The Commander straightens and nods.

 

“Complete the next phase of the mission, and you get your pet back. The faster you complete it, the less he suffers. Be expedient and you will earn yourself a reward.”

 

The Asset nods, and waits for the Commander to dismiss him. The guards lead him outside to his motorcycle. Bucky’s gloved hands grip the handles so hard the leather creaks, and his bike’s roar echoes in the mountains as he speeds off into the night.

 

The wind stinging his face gives him focus. It sounds like Steve.

 

------

 

The Asset returns the next day, less than 18 hours after being given his mission directive. He drags the body of the scientist needed for the machine behind him. The man is unconscious but breathing, unharmed in every way that matters. HYDRA will have no problems turning him- the Asset knows where his family is.

 

The Commander looks suitably impressed as he observes the Asset’s drop-off from his office, which overlooks the main HYDRA hangar where their machines, vehicles and ammunition are kept. The Commander has always kept a strict eye on every detail of his operation.

 

“You were correct, herr Doctor. It appears we have found a new way to motivate the Asset.”

 

“As I was saying, Commander. You cannot motivate a machine, but give a beast a mate- someone to care for, someone to love- then threaten to take it away from him. You have an animal that will be loyal as long as you control that someone.”

 

The Commander smiles, “That will not be a problem. He’s too easily broken to be of any danger.”

 

------

 

“Get him! Get that damn pole away from him!”

 

Steve pants but brandishes the medical pole like a weapon. He’d ripped out the IVs the doctors had put in him the second they had un-cuffed him from the table.

 

Steve Rogers hates doctors. He’s seen enough of the town doctor when he was younger (and even older) to have a perpetual hatred of men and women in fancy white coats who prod him and prick him with needles. So he of course started plotting his revenge immediately once HYDRA goons had cruelly removed him from their bed, shoving him into a lab and strapping him down on this cold table.

 

The doctors had taken an impersonal medical history, then proceeded to give him shot after shot. They wouldn’t tell him what it was, but Steve had always had an ear for languages- he understood just enough Romanian to know that they were giving him the latest medical vaccines- tuberculosis, polio, and yellow fever. The latest medicine available in the world, things he had never even seen in his small mountain town.

 

For some reason, Steve doesn’t feel grateful.

 

Besides, after the doctors fix him as best they can, the guards come in and have their turn. And they are most certainly not interested in Steve’s health.

 

It’s a standard beat-down. Nothing Steve hasn’t dealt with before, nothing he won’t have to handle again. Steve knows for a fact that he’ll look worse than he feels- but he’ll feel pretty terrible.

 

After his crappy lungs start to give out an hour in, HYDRA puts him on the medical bed again.

 

They forget to cuff him. So, half an hour later when Steve can breathe again without feeling like his bruised lungs are going to fall out of his back, he yanks the IV out of his wrists and grabs the pole. The guards laugh at first. Then Steve knocks one some teeth out of one of the goon’s thick HYDRA skull. The guards don’t laugh for much longer.

 

They’re still trying to get Steve out of the corner when the other guards come. Steve takes a breather and leans against the steel pole, breathing heavily again. He prays to God he doesn’t have another asthma attack. He’s too focused on his breathing so he doesn’t hear the guards arguing. He does look up just in time, however, to see one of the goons step forward with one of the electric guns.

 

He’s still gripping the pole when he falls, convulsing onto the floor.

 

-------------------

 

The Asset sits on their bed and waits. He waits and counts the seconds until his pадость returns, as he has counted every one since Steve was dragged away. He goes over his last meeting with the Commander, who had been pleased with his performance.

 

Of course he was. They had proof now of what Steve meant to the Asset. Their power over him had grown in a way he did not know was possible, but here he was. At his master’s feet, willing to beg for his ‘toy’ back.

 

The Asset does not remember the last time he felt such rage.

 

“Your reward is a nice bath for you and your ‘pet’. You can clean him up after his treatment at the hands of the B-troops. I hear he was quite the ornery prisoner.”

 

The Asset does not move and waits to be dismissed. Then he sits on their bed, does not move and counts the seconds.

 

He does not move when they drag Steve’s limp form into the room. They dump him in the center of the room. One of the HYDRA agents kick him before he leaves, but Steve’s unconscious form barely moves at the blow. The agent was clearly afraid to kick him with full force while in front of the Winter Soldier.

 

Good. But not good enough.

 

It will never be good enough, not until he can get Steve somewhere else. Somewhere he is safe and free from HYDRA’s clutches. Somewhere Bucky can properly protect him. Somewhere Bucky can hold him without fear of Steve being ripped out of his arms at any moment.

 

Bucky moves, finally. He falls to the floor and crawls to his pадость, cradling him to his chest. Once he has reassured himself that Steve is breathing, he gathers his pадость in his arms and moves Steve towards the bathroom, kneeling by the tub. He gets into a cross-legged position, Steve still cradled to his chest, Steve’s skinny legs folded over Bucky’s forearms.

 

Bucky reaches his metal hand into the water and gathers a few droplets on his fingertips, then flicks them onto Steve’s face. He repeats the motion 7 times, until Steve’s long lashes finally flicker and part, beautiful blue eyes gazing up at Bucky.

 

Steve groans and shifts, nuzzling closer into Bucky’s arms and chest. Bucky feels his heart swell- that after all Steve has been through he seeks the warmth in his life from Bucky. That Steve recognizes Bucky is not one of the monsters at their door.

 

“It looks worse than it is,” Steve murmurs into Bucky’s chest, and Bucky can’t believe that Steve is trying to comfort him right now. “It always does. M’ bruise easy”

 

“You’re a peach,” Bucky teases, but his eyes are too serious for his tone. Steve frowns,

 

“Shuddup, m’ not a fruit.”

 

“Yeah? Well, you’re about to be a prune. I’m going to wash you in the tub ‘til you’re wrinkly and clean.”

 

Steve smiles at that and tilts his head up. Bucky doesn’t know what he wants, and Steve rolls his eyes, then grimaces. “Kiss me, ya mug. Watch the eye, though.”

 

Bucky leans down quickly as he can and kisses Steve everywhere that doesn’t show a bruise. That pretty much leaves him with the right side of Steve’s face, and his collarbones. They left his beautiful, protruding collarbones alone. Bucky reverently presses kisses to Steve’s bones, thanking them for keeping this man with him. They remind Bucky of birds bones, specifically the wings, as they are delicate but enable the bird to soar.

 

Steve hums as his head lulls onto Bucky’s shoulder, as Bucky whispers a soft “I’m sorry” into the center of his throat. Steve musters his energy and flicks Bucky on his shoulder. The metal stings his fingernail, but Steve still thinks it was worth it.

 

“Last time I checked, you shouldn’t apologize for things that aren’t your fault.”

 

Bucky shakes his head. “This is my fault. I cared, so you got hurt.”

 

FUCK that,” Steve coughs out, sitting up and grimacing. “It’s all their fault. None of this is because of you, OK? Tell me.” Steve demands, and Bucky nods and promises. He would promise Steve anything, as long as Steve would lie back down and let Bucky care for him.

 

“Easy now, pадость. You tended my wounds, now I tend yours.”

 

Steve smiles and grimaces again- smiling pulls at the skin on his bad eye. “Got me there, Buck. Alright, let’s get the blood off me.”

 

Bucky gives Steve a tight smile and nods, metal hand forming a fist at his side. He vows to never have to do this again.

 

He desperately hopes he can keep this oath.

 

------------------

 

Bucky undresses Steve slowly, taking his time as Steve sits reclined in his arms. He removes his shirt first, and Bucky notes the needle marks standing out on Steve’s pale arms. He is infuriated that HYDRA pumped drugs into Steve’s body, but calms himself by remembering that some of those drugs will one day undoubtedly save Steve’s life (if they ever get out of this place).

 

Bucky unlaces Steve’s boots next and slowly unfurls Steve’s socks off of his feet. Every inch of Steve’s body that is revealed is cherished under Bucky’s eyes, and his fingers delicately trace every part of Steve’s vulnerable flesh, pebbled from the cold. Bucky tells himself this is just to check for internal damage, but he knows he is fooling no one.

 

Steve’s breath hitches when Bucky’s fingers ghost across the soft skin below his belly button, and Bucky savors the sound. His fingertips pause at the waistband of Steve’s trousers questioningly, and Steve makes an affirmative, guttural sound in the back of his throat.

 

Bucky drags Steve’s pants down gently but quickly, then lifts Steve up and into the water as fast as he dares. As Steve sinks into the warm water with a sigh, he is secretly grateful Bucky did not linger long after divesting him of his trousers. Even though Bucky has technically touched his cock, Steve still feels familiar thoughts of inadequacy and doubt for his own figure, especially before a specimen such as the Asset.

 

(Bucky moved him quickly so he would not lick up the blood from Steve’s wounds with his tongue, or take Steve’s little cock into his mouth until they both came undone. He needs his attentions on healing Steve, not on his own desires.)

 

So Bucky tears his eyes away after memorizing the sight of Steve Rogers relaxing into a bath, facial features loosening in comfort. He grabs the extra towel provided and dips it in the water, then gathers the meager soap bar and lathers the rough cloth.

 

This time, he starts with Steve’s feet. He does not linger long, as it turns out Steve’s toes are ticklish and he nearly gets a foot in the eye for his troubles. Steve’s ankles, however, appear to be sensitive, as Steve lets out a full body shiver when Bucky rubs his thumbs into the skin surrounding them.

 

Steve’s calves are next, and the rest of his skinny bird legs. They are dusted with fine golden hair that is softer than any Bucky would expect on a man. He takes his time stroking Steve’s legs, massaging the muscles beneath until they quiver and relax, offering his palms no resistance. Steve’s legs spread open but Bucky bypasses the offering, moving on to Steve’s hips. His fingers trace the bone and itch to dig in, to claim the body beneath.

 

Bucky moves on. He rubs into the skin above Steve’s ribs gently, once again thanking them for keeping his heart safe. Steve’s back gets a similar treatment, Bucky marveling at how a spine so faulty can keep a man standing so tall. Steve’s shoulders, however, are massaged similarly to his legs. Bucky shifts his stance to behind Steve so he can dig in deep and get the kinks of a good beating out of Steve’s shoulders with his flesh and metal hand.

 

Steve moans and practically melts into the tub, his limbs turned to mush under Bucky’s hands. He has never felt such attention given to all his aches and crinks. His joints feel like they might actually not crack if he moved them, and Bucky’s hands have almost completely eradicated the soreness that was resonating throughout his entire body.

 

Any relaxation he was enjoying, however, goes almost completely out the window when Bucky’s thumbs rub his nipples. He’s always been hypersensitive- damn his fair skin- but nothing like the zings of almost painful pleasure that courses through him when Bucky rolls his nipples between his fingers and squeezes. Bucky keeps squeezing until Steve is whining and thrusting his chest up and out of the water. Bucky alternates pressure on Steve’s nipples, and doesn’t move his head from where it is tucked into the nook of Steve’s shoulder.

 

Eventually, when Steve’s nipples are red and looking sore, Bucky reluctantly moves on with a gentle kiss to Steve’s temple. Then he lifts Steve up in soothing motions, until Steve’s mostly reclined against Bucky’s still clothed chest. Bucky had pushed his sleeves up, but his upper arms are still soaked through.

 

Steve watches through lidded eyes with fascination as Bucky’s hands dip below the now milky water, stomach twitching as Bucky’s gentle touch goes down. Bucky begins scratching a 4 finger pattern into the grooves of Steve’s groin where his thighs meet his legs, and Steve gives a high keen and arches into Bucky’s shoulder and neck. Bucky growls back and hitches Steve up higher until Steve is almost out of the tub, the water concealing only what is below the hips.

 

Then Bucky shifts his arms, curving his metal hand under Steve’s pert left cheek until Steve is practically sitting on the bionic limb. Then Bucky reaches his other hand slowly down Steve’s bottom and just…. pauses. Bucky nuzzles into Steve’s hair and breathes in Steve’s clean scent (he had tried to wash it before the body, but Steve had insisted on rubbing the soap into the hair himself- something about not being a complete delicate flower). Steve takes a shaky breath and nods once.

 

At first Bucky just teases at the top of Steve’s cleft, until Steve is wriggling and giggling. Bucky dares to drift further then, pushing his pointer finger down and up. Steve stops wriggling and tenses slightly, but Bucky is patient. He keeps rubbing up and down, massaging Steve’s one cheek with his metal hand.

 

Steve eventually turns his head and presses his lips against Bucky’s, who kisses him so sweetly Steve’s toes curl and fire lights up his spine. Bucky hums low in his throat and ever so slightly hooks his finger around the rim of Steve’s hole, fingertip just teasing. Steve’s hips hitch and cant ever so slightly back, and Steve opens his mouth to moan anew.

 

Then he yawns directly into Bucky’s mouth.

 

Bucky freezes, then gives a hearty laugh over Steve’s head. Steve blushes and hides into Bucky’s chest, which does little to hide the red on his cheeks. Bucky just chuckles and kisses the top of his head, then slowly lifts Steve out of the tub. Bucky cradles Steve to his chest as he somehow manages to wrap Steve in their one towel, fingers no longer exploratory in nature but efficient in their task.

 

“M’ sorry,” Steve mumbles as he snuggles into Bucky’s chest, and Bucky kisses his head again.

 

“You’ve had a long day. You need to rest, pадость.”

 

And with that Bucky lifts Steve and carries him to their bed, once again placing Steve by the wall. He wraps Steve up as best he can in the blankets and takes his place behind Steve, spooning him with his metal arm resting under Steve, holding his pадость to his chest. Bucky does not even bothering to take off his boots, just counts Steve’s breaths as he falls asleep.

 

The Asset does not sleep. The Asset holds his heart in his arms and plans.

Chapter Text

The Asset has a plan. The Asset hates his plan.

 

Planning is rarely left to the Asset, at least the over-arching mission planning. But tactics of this nature- your escapes, your snatching, your staking out a place for hours until the perfect moment to pull the trigger- the Asset excels at this. He sees every available course of action and can instantly pick the best option.

 

The Asset refuses for several days to acknowledge the best option.

 

He focuses on more important things. Rinsing Steve off everyday with the washcloth, cleaning his wounds and pressing his lips to them. Re-dressing Steve’s bandaging. Licking at the stray blood when Steve pushes himself too hard and inevitably busts his scabs open.

 

The important things.

 

Steve, his bright and brilliant heart, of course realizes almost immediately. He approaches the subject carefully, sensing Bucky’s reluctance. Steve waits until after he’s taken Bucky in hand, movements slippery with their sweat and Steve’s spitting his palm. If it’s too dry Bucky doesn’t complain, just clings to Steve as Steve humps his leg and brings both of them off, soft and easy in their cell.

 

Steve waits until after, when Bucky maneuvers him onto Bucky’s chiseled chest and envelops Steve in his arms, both of their faces interlocked into each other’s necks. Steve gently combs his hands through Bucky’s hair, which Bucky has been much better at letting Steve wash. He peppers Bucky’s chiseled jaw line and whispers,

 

“Whatever the plan is, we should talk about it.”

 

The change is instantaneous. Bucky stiffens and holds Steve in a literal iron grip, but Steve just continues his soothing strokes through Bucky’s hair, feeling the strands whisper through his fingers like blades of grass.

 

“No.” Bucky says, stubborn and terse when he is angry or threatened. Steve sighs.

 

“It involves me in some way, doesn’t it? I might get hurt?” Steve’s guessing, but he’s pretty certain at this point.

 

Bucky shakes his head vehemently. “It- it requires you to be hurt.”

 

Steve takes a deep breath and exhales through his nose. He had known that was more likely than not, but apparently Bucky was still reeling from Steve’s last beat down.

 

“I can take it.”

 

“Not this. This- this is worse than pain.”

 

Bucky’s voice goes small and scared, and for the first time Steve feels a real shiver of fear run down his spine.

 

“This is the chair.”

 

Steve frowns and holds Bucky, pressing more kisses onto the salty skin he can reach until he feels Bucky’s heart start beating normally once more. Bucky takes an audible inhale and continues.

 

“It’s- it’s what they use. To program me. It- it makes my brain not mine. It makes everything before go white. It- it hurts.”

 

Bucky won’t talk about it for the rest of the day. Steve just murmurs words of endearment and promises that everything will be alright, that he can take it. Both Bucky and Steve know that he cannot keep such promises.

 

-----------------

 

“They haven’t put me in there yet.” Bucky doesn’t look up from the bowl, and he doesn’t need to ask Steve where ‘there’ is. He just focuses on scooping up another perfect spoonful of the tinny tomato soup and bringing it carefully over to Steve’s waiting lips. It turns out having a metal arm is useful for more than just steadying a rifle.

 

Steve’s lips have also taken on a lovely shade of red. Later tonight, Bucky will suck a hickey into his neck the exact same shade.

 

“And they never will. Open.” Bucky feeds Steve another spoonful and watches with razor focus as Steve’s lips curve around the spoon. His cock twitches inside his pants, and he distantly wonders if tonight could be the first night he takes Steve into his mouth. He wonders if Steve would return the favor.

 

He wonders if Steve would love it. He wonders if Steve would beg for it, would worship Bucky’s cock at his knees and gag on it, would not let Bucky cum until Steve had tasted him enough.

 

Bucky scoops up another handful of soup. He hears Steve swallow.

 

“Hear me out. I’ve never been in. So the first time- I know it will be painful, but there’s still a good chance I’ll remember what I need to for whatever the rest of your plan is.”

 

“You may not even survive the chair. Open.”

 

Steve’s hand lands on Bucky’s metal wrist and stops it cold. Bucky refuses to meet Steve’s eyes, focused on the red in the wooden spoon.

 

“Buck, my asthma could kill me at any second. And with the constant beatings that are pretty much inevitable, considering they’ll keep using me to motivate you?”

 

Bucky shakes his head. The spoon stays still.

 

“Buck, what do you think will happen to me when they freeze you again?”

 

The spoon drops to the bed, staining the off-white sheets. Bucky lurches into Steve’s arms, climbing over the mattress and holding Steve close to him, shaking his head and mouthing “no no no no no”. Steve swallows and continues,

 

“Best case scenario? They freeze me with you. We both know the odds of me surviving that ain’t good. More likely than not, they’ll give me to the HYDRA goons. And give you a new ‘pet’ the next time you wake up.”

 

“NO!” Bucky roars, grabbing the bowel of soup and throwing it against the wall. Red rivers run down the stone, and Bucky howls his fury. Steve doesn’t hesitate, grabbing the dropped spoon and chucking it at Bucky’s head. It hits Bucky’s neck, and he turns around, incredulous. Steve yells back,

 

“Yeah, it’s a shitty situation! And you moping is not gonna get us anywhere! The final part of your mission is coming up, and we are running out of time. Now are you gonna tell me what we need to do or what?”

 

Bucky scowls, grabs the spoon from the floor and shakes it menacingly at Steve.

 

“Chuck a spoon at me again, Stevie, and I’ll turn your backside red.”

 

Steve just gives him an angelic smile, and Bucky could smother the kid, he’s so beautiful.

 

“Promises, promises. But seriously- it’s a kind of conditioning, right? So what if we just condition me to remember what to do? Repeat repeat repeat until there’s no chance I’ll forget.”

 

“I can’t remember my own name, Steve. I never will. I’ll never know what my parents looked like, if I had siblings. The chair takes everything.”

 

“Yeah, but it didn’t always!” Steve shouts, standing on the bed to properly yell at Bucky. Bucky is always secretly amused by the additional height Steve likes to give himself when they bicker.

 

“You said they used to have a doctor, then they used the chair! And even then it didn’t always work, that’s why they needed me. So the chair isn’t perfect, and the best chance we’ve got is after the first time.”

 

Bucky stands stock still. Whispers of memories ghost through his head, and he half imagines/half remembers the chair just being pain until, until-

 

Until the words.

 

Steve doesn’t know the words. Steve will not respond to the words.

 

Bucky hangs his head in defeat.

 

“The only time you are in the chair.”

 

Steve nods and reaches out for Bucky, and Bucky shuffles forward and buries his head in Steve’s soft tummy. Bucky promises himself that when they escape he’s going to take Steve to the best restaurants in the world and stuff him full. Steve hugs Bucky to him and runs his fingers through Bucky’s hair, strands slipping through his fingers like dark ribbons.

 

“The only time.”

 

Bucky nods. That night, he holds Steve close and whispers Steve his plan. Steve’s eyes twinkle in the cell, and Bucky latches onto their light.

 

----------------------

 

“Tell me again.”

 

Steve gasps as Bucky smacks his ass, hard with the wooden spoon. Steve lost track of how many times the wood beat down onto his flesh, followed quickly by the rapidly warming metal of Bucky’s hand, soothing the hurt away.

 

“You-you’re my mission.”

 

“Again.”

 

WHACK. Steve gasps and feels his cock jerk against Bucky’s thighs. He’s laid up on Bucky’s lap, completely bare with his cock leaking against Bucky’s combat pants. He’s embarrassed he’s turned on by this, he’s embarrassed that Bucky’s voice is cold and unmoved above him.

 

He’s also hard as a rock, and his skin burns where Bucky’s own hard cock digs into his stomach. Steve knows from experience that grinding against Bucky’s lap is not encouraged behavior.

 

“You-you’re my mission.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because- because fuck-“

 

WHACK. WHACK.

 

Steve howls and cums, all over Bucky’s boots as Bucky kneads his cheeks and sends zings of please-pain-good down Steve’s spine. Bucky pulls Steve up by the hair and Steve gasps out, as his cock still twitches with the last vestiges of his orgasm,

 

“Because we rescue each other.”

 

Bucky lowers Steve’s head down gently onto the bed and strokes up and down his flanks, soothing Steve’s still twitching body.

 

“Good.”

 

------------------------

 

The Asset waits, calm and collected from his tree branch. Through his scope he sees the scientist’s littlest girl playing in the backyard. She chases a small red tabby cat around, laughing gleefully.

 

(The scientist the Asset has captured has not been cooperating.)

 

The Asset’s finger curls around the trigger.

 

(The Asset thinks of his Stevie. The Asset feels sunshine on his face.)

 

The Asset pulls the trigger.

 

The little girl screams. Her mother runs outside and grabs her up, running back inside for cover. The Asset knows that by the time he makes it to the house, the scientist’s family will be long gone. That’s what happens when you miss a shot from a mile away.

 

The Asset stares at the empty yard. The Asset begins to pack up his gun and prepare for the punishment ahead.

 

-----------------

 

Bucky can barely breathe. Steve has been giving his cock kitten licks, watching it with intensity until another bead of precum drips out, then diving back in and licking it up. Bucky’s skin feels like it has matches pressed to where Steve’s fingers are, burning into his hips and legs.

 

Bucky tries to jerk into Steve’s wet and welcoming mouth, but his pадость just glares at him and moves back every time. It stops Bucky in his tracks and he loves it and he hates it and he just wants to cum.

 

“Please, pадость, please…”

 

“I- I need it like this, you know I do Buck, so give it to me.”

 

Bucky growls and tugs his fingers through Steve’s hair. Steve takes Bucky’s cock into his mouth and bobs his head once, twice and then pulls off.

 

Bucky’s eyes roll back into his head as he cums on his Stevie’s face and open mouth. Steve doesn’t even flinch. From the corner of his eye Bucky sees him, and thinks his Stevie looks like he’s receiving fucking communion. Steve licks it all up and moans. Then he crawls up to join Bucky on the bed, panting and smiling like he’d just won the biggest prize at the county fair.

 

“Shoulda seen your face, Buck. I make you find God or something?”

 

“Just you,” Bucky wheezes in reply, and Steve’s smile turns bright and soft at the same time. He runs his fingers through Bucky’s hair again and whispers, “Tell me.”

 

Bucky grits his teeth but knows. He knows this is necessary because moments of pleasure, moments of pure happiness were the last things he forgot. He thinks. So he swallows past the lump in his throat and says,

 

“Your head will be… not on right. Your vision will be swimming, you won’t be able to hear. But touch, you can do. And when you touch me, you will remember. You will remember the small knife in your boot that you have stolen. You will remember to pass it to me, in those few moments they let me touch you to….to mourn what they have done.”

 

Bucky presses his face into Steve’s neck, breathing in his smell and the warmth that comes from the smaller man.

 

“That is your mission. That is how you rescue me. I am your mission.”

 

Steve’s fingers curl into Bucky’s hair, strong roots that anchor him to all that he holds dear in this world. He whispers,

 

“I save you, so you can save me.”

 

Neither one of them mention that this will only work if Steve survives the chair.

 

 

-----------------

 

Commander Vance is furious. The Asset can tell by the way he taps his index finger against his leg. Even the Doctor seems to be on edge.

 

When the Asset arrives back at the HYDRA base, there is an armed escort of 20 guards waiting for him. Commander Vance himself meets him by the chair, greeting the Asset with a powerful slap.

 

The Asset does not react.

 

“You have never missed. Not once, not even in the beginning. But now? The scientist is useless to us now- he will not replicate the super soldier formula. Potentially the greatest weapon HYDRA could ever have possessed, and Dr. Erksine will die with it locked in his mind.”

 

Commander Vance steps up and spits his words at the Asset, but the Asset doesn’t blink.

 

“Now, you watch as your pet loses his mind.”

 

The Asset allows himself the reaction of glancing at the Commander in fear. Ever the sadist, the Commander is pleased with this reaction. His cruelty makes him predictable.

 

“You try to help him, and we shoot him.” Commander Vance sneers and walks away to stand beside the Doctor, who gleefully looks to the machine that operates the chair. He has not had the opportunity to use it since the Asset was woken.

 

The guards drag Steve in, kicking and screaming. Literally.

 

“Takes 5 of you assholes, does it? Let me at you, I’ll tear your fucking teeth out!!”

 

Steve’s got blood on his knuckles, a split lip and his shirt is ripped partially open. The Asset also notes the small knife tucked into his left sock.  The Asset’s heart quickens.

 

The Asset’s stomach drops as he sees his pадость strapped into the chair. They have to tighten the restraints almost comically tight for his love’s skinny arms, but they at least gag him.

 

The Asset was dreading the sound of Steve’s screams.

 

Once in the chair, Steve starts looking around like a wild man. The Asset does not blame him- it is a terrifying experience. Then Steve’s eyes meet Bucky’s and he stares, panic and fear and understanding all at once.

 

-----------------

 

“Even- even if I leave you, I haven’t really left. I’m still there. Just make me love you all over again. Make me come back to you.”

 

Bucky nods and presses his forehead into Steve’s. He wills himself not to cry. He leaves for the scientist’s daughter in a few minutes, and this may be the last few moments he has with his love. He will not waste them.

 

“Some things- some things always come back. If they- if they leave me out too long.”

 

Bucky presses a tender kiss to Steve’s lips, sharing all the hope and fear he has in the glide of their skin.

 

“I know- I know in my bones, Steve- that you will always come back to me.”

 

Steve tightens his grip in Bucky’s hair.

 

-----------------

 

The Asset can still hear every sound his pадость makes. He hears the precise moment when Steve’s vocal cords crack, when his body decides to preserve energy because it does not have enough to deal with the pain and the instinct to scream.

 

Steve’s body is still too skinny- it convulses in the chair. Steve’s head bangs against the headrest with such force that the Asset fears for a moment he will kill himself in that manner.

 

The Asset knows for a fact that the whole process lasts 27.5 seconds. The Asset would also swear until the day he dies that Steve is in the chair for at least an hour.

 

Steve’s body is motionless when the chair releases him, save for the labored breaths his fragile lungs struggle to take. The Asset counts every single one.

 

At 46 breaths, Commander Vance stops laughing and orders the guards to check if Steve is still there. The chair sometimes makes people the walking dead before they die days later, listless after not eating or drinking. When Steve jerks away in fear from the guard’s hand, the Asset lets out an audible sob of relief.

 

Commander Vance’s focus is on the Asset again.

 

“Go, see what you have done.” He tells the Asset, and the Asset does not bother to get up from where he had fallen to his knees. He crawls over to his beating heart, which lies twitching in the chair. The Asset fears Steve will not have the strength to stand for days.

 

The Asset cannot see the maniacal pleasure of the Doctor, or hear the laughter of the guards. He nuzzles his head under Steve’s limp hand, ignoring the pinch when some of his hair gets stuck under Steve’s immobile fingers.

 

Steve’s eyes see him but do not recognize, staring blankly as his body struggles to recover. Bucky whimpers and whispers into Steve’s palm,

 

“Who am I, pадость?”

Chapter Text

“Who am I, солнышко?”

 

Bucky doesn’t even manage to get the whole sentence out of his mouth before Steve is lashing out and trying to kick him in the face.  Bucky catches his bony ankle effortlessly- he is the strong one now.

 

The Asset does not have to pretend to be devastated.  Steve is looking around in panic and fear, body giving an involuntary twitch every few seconds.  When he looks at the Asset, his eyes are wide and unknowing.

 

Steve doesn’t even look at the Asset like he did the first time they met- Steve only looks like a wounded animal, tugging fruitlessly at his restraints.  The Asset howls his fury and pain at the room, only moving away from his beloved once HYDRA agents surround him and cock the barrels of their guns. All the barrels point at Steve.

 

The Asset breathes audibly through his nose.  He glares at the floor as he stands, only his labored breathing giving away his inner turmoil. He continues to concentrate on the floor as the Commander’s boots come into view. The Asset’s toes curl so tight in his boot that he wonders momentarily if he breaks one or two.

 

“He will not remember you now. Next time, it is unlikely he will even survive the chair. Next time, I strongly suggest you do not miss.”

 

The Asset looks up, face emotionless as always. The Commander nods, satisfied and walks out of the room with the Doctor, leaving the guards behind with the Asset and what is left of Steve. The Asset waits until the guards get Steve out of the chair, yanking his beloved so harshly Steve’s shirt tears in a few places.

 

The Asset makes himself wait. It’s not the hardest thing he’s ever had to do, but it’s close.

 

The guards begin to march them back to their cell. Well, they march the Asset. Steve is carried by one guard behind the Asset’s five, hoisted over the man’s shoulder. The Asset sees the guard’s hand on Steve’s ass under the guise of keeping the younger man’s body in place. The Asset’s fingers begin to twitch.

 

The Asset makes himself wait.

 

The group approaches the hallway leading towards their cell, past the row of other HYDRA prisoners. The doctor, the one whose family cost the Asset his Stevie’s memory, the doctor stares at him as they pass by. The Asset pays him no mind.

 

They stop in front of one of the many locked doors, the first that would close behind him and Steve, locking them in from the outside world. The Asset has no intention of walking through those doors ever again.

 

The Asset’s wait is over.

 

The first two die quickly. The Asset moves before they are even aware, grabbing their heads and smashing them together with such force that their blood sprays over the Asset’s face. It hits the back of the necks of the two guards in front, who turn around startled.

 

The Asset disarms them quickly, sending one flying with a high kick and breaking the other’s neck with his metal arm. They are both dead before they hit the floor.

 

One of the two remaining guards gets too close from behind, yelling at the Asset code words that he thinks will save him. Perhaps they would have, once upon a time. Now, there is only what is standing between the Asset and his солнышко. Words will not save them.

 

The guard who gets too close has his gun shoved clean through the back of his throat. He too falls to the ground, unable to make any useless words ever again.

 

The remaining guard now has all of the Asset’s attention, whether he wants it or not. He is holding a gun to his beloved’s temple, hand shaking and cursing at the Asset. Steve is shaking as well, staring at the Asset in fear, eyes flicking from the blood on the Asset’s face to the blood that is spilled upon the floor.

 

The guard is too close to his солнышко. The Asset will fix that. He shifts the dagger out of his gloved hand, the one he retrieved from Steve’s sock when his beloved tried to kick him. With a flick of the Asset’s wrist the guard falls to the ground, blood gushing from his throat. Steve falls to the ground with the guard and is instantly backing away from the Asset, pushing himself up against the stone wall of the corridor and putting up fists that tremble.

 

The Asset feels his heart give an impossibly low lurch, and he drops to his knees. Eyes meeting Steve’s own, he crawls once more to his beloved. His pants are stained with blood by the time he gets to Steve’s feet. The smaller man looks down at the Asset in confusion.

 

Bucky trembles and leans forward, hands hovering above Steve’s hips as he nuzzles his head against one of Steve’s large, bony hands. Nothing happens for a pregnant moment, except Bucky’s heart threatens to fly out of his chest and offer itself to Steve.

 

Steve has to remember. They won’t get out of here in time if he doesn’t. Already the Asset is calculating how many guards have been dispatched, how long before the Commander realizes they are not in containment. They will kill Steve this time.

 

“Please, солнышко,” Bucky whispers into Steve’s palm. “Please, you have to remember me.”

 

Steve’s hand darts away. The Asset lets out a sob, hands falling to the floor in front of him as he kneels defeated at his heart’s feet.

 

He has lost. They have lost.

 

The Asset….Bucky begins to shake. His head is spinning and his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. He feels nauseous and scared, so scared of what is about to happen.

 

He will have to kill them both, of course. Through his heartache, the Asset is already calculating how to make it so that his beloved feels the least amount of pain. He will hold his солнышко in his arms one last time before snapping his neck, quickly and efficiently. Then he will grab the guard’s gun and put a bullet in his own skull before HYDRA can reach him again and ‘wipe’ away any traces of Steve.

 

He has not had anything worth dying for that he can remember, but the thought of dying for Steve is an easy one. They can still be together then, at least. It is an infinitely better end than whatever HYDRA could envision.

 

The Asset stares at the floor and desperately tries to calm down enough that his body stops shaking. They are running out of time before they will be found- he needs to finish this soon. The Asset takes deep breaths that feel jagged going down his throat and swallows, preparing for one final act of horror.

 

Then- fingers touch his hair, stroking oh so slowly through Bucky’s now sticky, bloodstained locks. The Asset’s head swings up and he sees the shining blue eyes of his beloved, staring back at him in wonder. Steve keeps staring and moving his fingers through Bucky’s hair, mesmerized. Then he smiles-

 

“I’m still with you, Buck. Could never stop lovin’ you.”

 

Then his солнышко, his angel and salvation, is leaning down and kissing Bucky oh so sweetly, soft lips bringing him back to life. Bucky whimpers into the kiss, too relieved to move as he closes his eyes and savors the feeling of Steve’s touch in his hair.

 

He came back. Just like he promised, Steve came back. Stevie found him.

 

His beloved moves away too soon and the Asset whines, embarrassingly high but he does not care. Steve’s eyes are blown when he leans back,b ut he shakes his head and says,

 

“I- we don’t have much time, right? All I can really remember about the plan was that it needs to happen fast. And to get my foot by you.”

 

Bucky nods. He doesn’t trust himself to speak. It’s too soon and he can’t- he can’t even face what was about to happen. What he would have done.

 

Steve nods back, then goes behind Bucky to climb on his back. Apparently, the chair took the fight out of him over the fact that it would be easier for them to escape if Steve just clung to Bucky while Bucky did the running and shooting.

 

Bucky misses the fight.

 

“Wait, one second. Dangit, how do these things open?”

 

Bucky spins around and stares at Steve, incredulous, as Steve attempts to figure out the panel to open the doors to the rest of the cells. The doctor Bucky saved looks equally as surprised.

 

Bucky does a quick analysis of the situation, and realizes they don’t have time to argue. So he walks over and punches clean through the metal panel with his Vibranium fist.

 

The alarm sounds and the doors open. Prisoners are out of their cells instantly, off and running. It will actually end up being a great distraction. A distraction they will end up needing, as Steve is swaying on his feet. Bucky quickly scoops him up and places him on his back, Steve’s tiny frame barely able to straddle his broad shoulders. Steve pats his shoulder when he is settled.

 

Bucky grabs one of the guard’s guns that hasn’t been taken by other prisoners and starts running. In the distance there are gunshots, as all hell breaks loose on the main hanger.

 

Bucky heads for the side hanger, which is farther away but will be less guarded. He does not see the doctor he rescued begin to follow them, broken glasses glinting in the overhead light.

 

---------------------

 

In the end, the escape is laughably easy.  The Asset tears through the remaining guards without a wasted bullet.  Then they hotwire one of the HYDRA trucks (Steve’s hands shake, but they’re small and quick to wire the car started while Bucky stands guard).  They pack up what essentials they can find in 30 seconds around the garage, and drive away from the base- fast enough for their business to be urgent but slow enough that they don’t raise any suspicions.

 

Bucky thinks they have at least a 2 hour head start.  When they clear the mountains, he makes a left away from Steve’s hometown and slams on the accelerator.

 

He wants to make it to the nearest city in 3 hours.  They end up making it in one and a half, Steve sleeping in the passenger seat, curled up and exhausted in a way only torture can bring to a body. 

 

Steve jolts awake when Bucky softly touches his shoulder.  He relaxes and gives Bucky a smile that is strained around his eyes, but Bucky takes it anyway.  They are parked in a dingy alleyway, soot from chimneys covering the street.  It is winter now, and people are so cold the coal burns through the night.

 

Bucky finds another car to steal while Steve plays look out this time.  They are on their way within 15 minutes, and Bucky knows they now have a 7 hour lead.

 

Enough time for them to get some rest.

 

Bucky ends up pulling over at an abandoned farm off the side of one of the roads.  They have made so many right and left turns at this point Bucky is sure they will not be found for some time, as he purposefully gave them no direction.

 

There is no need.  He knows where they are going.

 

For now, however, what they need is a good night’s rest.  Sleep and food (which they stole a couple miles back, despite Steve’s protests), and much needed rest.

 

The food part happens.  Steve huddles in Bucky’s lap and feeds the larger man from their cans of beans, sharing a spoonful with Bucky before taking one for himself.  Bucky sits content, arms loose around his солнышко, who is wrapped in a blanket and safe in his arms.  When they finish and Steve puts the can aside, Bucky leans back to sleep for the night.  The day has been exhausting, emotionally and physically.  Bucky is sure he will be asleep the second he closes his eyes.

 

Then there is a hand, too big for the body it belongs to, pressing itself against Bucky’s crotch.  Bucky is suddenly wide awake.

 

“Sleep, солнышко.  We need rest.”

 

“Can’t sleep, Buck.  Can’t close my eyes without being back there.”

 

Bucky huffs and pulls Steve on top of him, curling his metal arm around Steve’s back and holding Steve’s head in his palm.  He squeezes once and then lets his body go lax, hoping Steve will follow his example.  Steve does not take the invitation, wiggling his hips until he lines them up just right and Bucky gives an involuntary moan.

 

Steve starts to smirk in triumph, but then he is overturned as Bucky rolls them over.  Steve lets out a tiny ‘oof’ as he lands softly on his back, Bucky’s bigger, muscular body a weight on top of his own.

 

“Sleep, солнышко.  There will be time in the morning.”

 

Steve wants to protest, but the warmth of his lover on top of him, anchoring him to this place where he is safe and secure, has Steve drifting off to sleep. 

 

-----------------------

 

Steve wakes the next morning to a world of aches.  Which, considering how many fights he’s been in (and beat downs), is saying something.  Every miniscule movement feels like his muscles are being stretched needlessly, like a rusty spring.  He groans and tries to shift, but quickly realizes how futile any motion is with 200+ pounds of super-soldier on top of him.

 

 

The super-soldier on top of him is instantly awake, and he presses himself further down onto Steve’s body when the smaller man begins to squirm.

 

“Five more minutes, Stevie.”

 

“This is how I die then. Under a hunk of lazy assassin.” Steve gripes back, and Bucky chuckles and moves up to his elbows. Steve allows himself to stretch the tiniest amount and immediately groans, and Bucky kisses him on the ear in sympathy.

 

“The chair makes you sore in places you didn’t even know existed. Come on, I know just the thing for it.”

 

Bucky gets to his feet with more grace than anyone has any right to have in the wee hours of the morning, carrying Steve up and in his arms. Steve instantly protests, letting Bucky have it while his fists beat softly at Bucky’s chest.

 

“Buck, I can still walk! Let me let go, I can do it! Where are you taking me?”

 

“To wake up,” Bucky gleefully states, and Steve is suspicious as hell.

 

Steve’s suspicions are confirmed when he is promptly dumped in a cold pond that sits behind the farm. His shrieks of indignity make Bucky bend over double laughing, and soon enough Steve is laughing too.

 

Then he is splashing Bucky with a vengeance.

 

Bucky retaliates by diving in the water after Steve, splashing back furiously as Steve attempts to dunk Bucky into the water as the cold chill of it shocks his muscles back into motion. Bucky laughs as Steve climbs over him, taking the opportunity to put his hands on Steve and strip him of his clothing. Steve catches on pretty quick, and soon the splashing contest becomes a wrestling match to divest clothing.

 

Steve wins, grinning triumphantly as he holds up Bucky’s briefs in the air. Bucky laughs loudly at that, and Steve marvels at the freeness in Bucky’s expression now that they are away from HYDRA, even for such a short time.

 

He makes a private vow to never let HYDRA take them back alive. Steve vows to himself that he will make the sacrifice of killing Bucky, or killing both of them, before he lets that happen.

 

“Come here, squirt.” Bucky motions, and Steve swims the short distance to his arms. Bucky yanks Steve’s tattered boxers down and off, letting it float away with the rest of their clothing. Bucky’s hands come back to Steve’s ass, holding him close.

 

“Leave the clothing, I stole us a spare set three towns back.”

 

“Buck, someone needed those! We can’t just go around stealing-“

 

“I left them some money for it!”

 

“That you also stole!”

 

“….. Give me a break here, Stevie. This is an escape, not a church mission.”

 

Steve pouts, and Bucky runs his thumb over the pursed lips.

 

“Let me make it up to you, солнышко. It is morning now, and there is time enough.”

 

“There it is again- we have time now. But time before what?”

 

The Asset is impressed once more by his beloved’s cunning- he will make a fine partner. Bucky tucks a stray hair from Steve’s forehead behind his ear, and breaks the news to his lover.

 

“We are going back. Tonight.”

 

Steve doesn’t react, but his eyes sharpen on Bucky’s face. Bucky explains further,

 

“HYDRA always reacts to an attack by launching a counter-attack, double in proportion. They will be scouring the country for us- we know too much, and we are a symbol of their failure and rebellion.”

 

“So the base will be empty.”

 

Bucky nods and kisses Steve’s nose.

 

“For a short period of time- only the higher ups will remain. Cut off one head, and ten more will grow in its place. However, if you burn those heads when you leave their rotting corpses behind…”

 

“Like Hercules. So- we cut off their heads and burn the base down. That’s the plan?”

 

Bucky nods again.

 

“I’m going to infiltrate, you are going to set up the bombs I hid from the last time they let me out to execute the doctor’s family. Then on my signal, you detonate. We meet at the bottom of the mountain, by the one road leading to the base. You shoot anyone who isn’t me coming down that road.”

 

“And what if you don’t come down that road?”

 

“Then you leave. You leave and you never look back. You hide, you steal- you do whatever you have to. But you make it out, you understand me?”

 

Steve nods, and both he and Bucky knows it’s a false promise. If Bucky doesn’t show, Steve will march right back up that mountain and shoot anything that isn’t Bucky until he is stopped, one way or another.

 

Bucky doesn’t have time to convince him otherwise, or the resources for a different plan. There’s not enough time, not enough anything.

 

Bucky presses his head against Steve’s, a familiar nuzzle. He has now, and that will have to be enough. One shining moment with his Stevie, his солнышко.

 

He intends to make it count.

Chapter Text

Steve breathes out his 98th breath of air, watching the cloud escape his mouth into the bitter cold. He sits on top of the stolen jeep, knee bouncing and jiggling the Uzi gun resting in his lap. He measures the exhale, then his 99th inhale, and breathes out again. It’s an old trick his mother taught him to keep his breathing attacks from killing him. Now it’s all that’s keeping him from running up the hill after Bucky.

 

Because he promised. Wait for at least 1,000 breaths before leaving. Except even Bucky didn’t believe that Steve would leave. What Bucky had really meant was “1,000 breaths before you do something stupid”.

 

Steve has 300 to go, and he is slowly going out of his mind with worry. Even with his bad ear, he can still hear the periodic explosions going off at the base. It brings him some comfort to know that the bombs he made in the car on the way back to base work. Bucky had been an excellent teacher, but Steve’s always had artist hands.

 

He promised Bucky this morning that if they made it out alive the first thing Steve will do is draw him. Bucky had grinned and promised that the first thing they’d do is rent an expensive hotel room with HYDRA money and not leave the bed for days.

 

“By the time I’m through with you, sweetheart, I promise you’ll barely be able to stand, let alone draw.”

 

Steve had smiled and licked into Bucky’s mouth, stretching his naked body against his lover’s own larger one. The longer Bucky is out of the ice, the longer that a strange accent starts to creep into his voice. Steve thinks it sounds a bit like a foreign film he saw of the Wild West in America. He finds it endlessly charming.

 

295 breaths. Steve refuses to think of future promises. Instead of dwelling on the future, he closes his eyes for a trip down memory lane.

 

-------------------

 

The Asset is moving closer to his final target. The operation has been satisfactory thus far- everyone and everything is disorganized. The escape of the prisoners has led to tension amongst the ranks. The Commander has lashed out at the crew, who are overworked trying to find who is missing and who is dead. The explosions have also helped.

 

Some of the men dropped their arms when they saw him, eager to walk away from the whole mess.

 

The Asset had eliminated them regardless.

 

The Asset is now soundlessly approaching the room where Commander and the Doctor himself are holed up. They will remain there until the helicopter that promises them rescue comes for them.

 

The Asset knows better. He knows HYDRA protocol. He knows what is coming is an airstrike that will burn this base to the ground. HYDRA will rebuild anew elsewhere.

 

The Asset does not plan to be amongst the ashes.

 

A smart man would have left this base by now. The Asset cannot be smart now. Even though his солнышко is waiting for him, shooting anyone who dares to run down the mountain.

 

The men in this base know his солнышко. They know his face, his screams. If there is even the slightest chance they will live to describe it to another person, it must be eliminated.

 

The Asset is willing to bet that Commander Vance has not yet told HYDRA that he has lost control of the Asset. A prison break is bad enough, but to lose one of the most valuable soldiers that HYDRA has at its disposal, not to mention all of the secrets the Asset could possibly recover- no, the Commander is a smart man. He would have concealed this information at all costs.

 

With his death, HYDRA will assume the Asset to have died in the air strike or the explosions. The Asset has already blown up the cell he and his beloved shared for the shortest and happiest months of his life. The HYDRA crew that will search that place will find the body parts of two men who bear a resemblance to the Asset and Steve, minus the arm.

 

The Asset does not have a method of removing it from his person. Its metal is too strong.

 

The Asset uses its metal strength to tear open the safe door keeping him from the Commander and the Doctor. The metal folds under his fingers like butter, and he steps through to the darkly lit room.

 

A loud gunshot echoes in the chamber.

 

-------------------

 

Steve remembers that he had been shaking as Bucky carried him back to the barn. His skin had been slightly damp from the water, but he had been shivering from the heat of Bucky’s hands on him. The metal one rested under his bum, cradling him as the flesh hand curled around the back of his neck.

 

Steve’s face was crushed into Bucky’s neck, counting his breaths and trying not to be overwhelmed by his lover’s scent.

 

Bucky set Steve down lovingly on the blanket covering the coarse hay below them. The world was barely lit as the sun was just on the cusp of rising over the horizon, but Steve swore he had never seen so clearly.

 

Bucky is staring. His eyes flick in minuscule movements, memorizing Steve’s face as Steve stares back, equally in awe.

 

Steven Grant Rodgers has never backed down from a fight. Yet as he finds himself in the arms of the only man he has ever loved, he finds himself suddenly shy. He breaks their gaze first, looking up and over Bucky’s shoulder as his shaky hands fall to Bucky’s shoulders.

 

Bucky tilts his head as his солнышко shrinks before his eyes. Unsure hands are placed on his shoulders, and Bucky frowns slightly at this turn in his lover.

 

Then Bucky remembers- he was Steve’s first kiss. His солнышко had never known the touch of a man before the Asset was placed before him, a wild thing his beloved had tamed. Yet in all their time together they had never known each other completely, as Bucky had refused to take Steve in a place of such sorrow.

 

His солнышко is nervous. It is his first time, and he is unsure.

 

Bucky presses a gentle kiss to his Stevie’s cheek, the first of many. Then he carefully flips the two of them over until Steve is on balanced on top. Steve’s eyes are back on Bucky now and opened in alarm. Bucky keeps his face neutral and places his hands back on Steve’s shoulders, mirroring Steve’s position on his own body.

 

“At your pace, солнышко.”

 

Steve gives his soldier a soft smile that is bursting with gratitude. His grip on Bucky’s shoulders becomes tighter and surer. His thumbs swipe over Bucky’s collarbones and his smile widens as Bucky’s thumbs do the same.

 

“Do you know how beautiful you are, Buck? I know I haven’t told you nearly enough times.”

 

The reaction is strong and instantaneous. Bucky goes still beneath him, but his face and upper chest color a lovely rose shade. Steve bends down and kisses Bucky’s collarbone, tracing it lightly with his tongue. When he leans back up, Bucky does the same to him.

 

Steve’s skin is shiny when Bucky pulls away. Steve also has a blush about him now, deeper than Bucky’s.  Despite the color, Steve seems more confident.

 

“Took my breath away when I first saw you.  Was supposed to be scared, but all I could focus on was your goddamn jaw line.”

 

Bucky gives a tiny whine and his eyes widen in alarm at the noise.  Steve just smiles innocently, like he hasn’t discovered a secret of Bucky’s, and moves his hands lower to Bucky’s pecs.  The Asset’s hands follow, steady only due to years of training.

 

Steve’s left hand reaches out and strokes Bucky’s jaw line, and Bucky’s metal hand reaches out to do the same.  Steve nuzzles into the cool vibranium and gives Bucky’s palm a kiss Bucky sees more than feels.  Bucky does the same, but also licks Steve’s palm and gives his beloved an impish wink.

 

Steve grins and presses his thumb down against Bucky’s lower lip, “Got the devil in your eye, Buck.  Makes me hot all over.”

 

Then Steve sucks Bucky’s thumb into his mouth and watches as his assassin’s mouth forms a little “O” of pleasure.  Steve grins around Bucky’s digit and revels at the zing that travels down his spine at the rush of power he feels.  After giving Bucky’s thumb a hard suckle, Steve lets it go with a lewd “pop”.  He lets his eyes wonder at the specimen below him, lets himself marvel and envy at Bucky’s hardened, perfect body.

 

Steve lets his artist fingers trace the scars that litter Bucky’s torso and shudders when Bucky outlines exactly where they would fall on his body.  Steve measures out the width of Bucky’s shoulders with his too-large hands, then Bucky’s waist.  Bucky does the same, giving a wry grin when his lover’s waist almost fits completely in one hand.

 

Eventually, when both their breathing is slightly labored, Steve leans back a little bit and traces the V of muscle leading down to Bucky’s intimidating and impressive cock.  It currently sits nestled next to Steve’s own hardened length, both of them shiny and slippery in the morning light.  Rubbing and squeezing your lover will tend to do that.

 

Steve bites his lip and meets Bucky’s eyes, stating firmly “I don’t know where to go from here.  Do you?”

 

The Asset nods slowly, and moves for the first time on his own.  His hands reach slowly around to Steve’s back, trace down Steve’s crooked spine and eventually settle on his солнышко’s peach bottom.  Two of his fingers curl ever so slightly into Steve’s crack, hovering above Steve’s hole in a matter more informative than inquisitive.

 

Steve rolls his eyes at that.  “Yeah, I figured out what goes where, Buck.  I just don’t know how you’d get in there- I mean, I’m not exactly big, and you’re not exactly small.  How’re you gonna fit in there without splittin’ me in two?”

 

Bucky groans at that, and the hands on Steve’s backside tighten.

 

“My fingers first, then my cock.  I’ll prepare you for your first time.”

 

Steve blushes an even darker shade of crimson and nods jerkily.  Bucky’s hands on his backside turn soothing, rubbing and squeezing rhythmically.

 

“Do not worry, солнышко.  I will be gentle.”

 

Steve lifts his chin up in defiance.

 

“I’m not scared.”

 

“Of course not, солнышко.  You are with me- you have nothing to fear.”

 

Steve rolls his eyes again but grins down at Bucky,

 

“Well then, big boy, how do you want me?”

 

His beloved’s eyes sparkle once more, and Steve gives a tiny cry as he is flipped onto his back and 200 pounds of super soldier hovers over him.

 

“Just like this, солнышко.”

 

--------------------

 

The sound of the gunshot echoes off the chamber wall, and inside the hold-out room the Doctor who tortured his солнышко falls down, blood oozing out from his spectacles.  The Asset does not pause, crossing the room at a speed that first made people whisper of the HYDRA “ghost”.  Commander Vance is disarmed before he can draw his gun.

 

The Asset almost wants to laugh at the man’s ego.  He should have prepared better.  He should have been waiting for the Asset with an army.

 

“You think you can run?  They will know- they always know.  They will find you and your pet and they will make you suffer. You do not even know the meaning of the word.”

 

The Asset does not blink. What good are the pleas, the threats of a dead man? They mean nothing to a ghost.

 

He places his flesh hand on top of Commander Vance’s head. His heart drops to his stomach when the Commander grins and starts reciting the words, the terrible words that will make him forget.

 

The Asset punches. He punches with his metal hand that HYDRA gave him as a weapon. He punches until first the Commander has lost his teeth, then his jaw, then his flesh. He punches until there he is only holding the top of a head, as the rest of the body has snapped and fallen to the floor.

 

The Asset lets go then, breathing heavily. He sees on the table the Red Book. With shaking fingers he begins ripping, tearing the thing to pieces. He does not stop until there is nothing left. Until he realizes he is screaming.

 

The Asset stops, and only then does he hear the sirens.

 

The air raid has begun.

 

The Asset turns and runs.

 

--------------------

 

Bucky brings out a small first aid kit from beside the blanket, the same one Bucky had used to patch Steve up the night before. He pulls out a small bottle of petroleum jelly, an essential in med kits as it helps to stop bleeding.

 

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Is it going to hurt that much?”

 

Bucky runs a smoothing hand down Steve’s flank and opens the jar left-handed. “It’s to make it so it doesn’t hurt at all.”

 

Steve nods and Bucky holds up the jar, shows him how he is lathers it onto his fingers. Steve nods and opens his legs. Bucky’s breath hitches, both at the symbol of trust and at the sight of Steve’s pink hole- deliciously pink and almost impossibly small.

 

Bucky’s cock swells at the very thought of being in there.

 

It is gentle. Bucky traces Steve’s hole first, getting it slick and shiny before thumbing at it. Steve’s breathing is labored but he keeps staring, eyes flicking back and forth between Bucky’s face and his hand between his legs.

 

Bucky does not notice. His world has zeroed in to the incredible heat coming from Steve’s little body. Steve’s hole is perfectly responsive- first it tenses away, then opens up beautifully with soft touches from Bucky.

 

He’s perfect. Before Bucky’s disbelieving eyes Steve opens up for him until two fingers become three. Then three fingers begin to pump in and out, twisting and reaching until Bucky presses against something that makes Steve arch and cry out.

 

“B-Buck!” It’s the first sound Steve has made. Bucky’s ears burn with the sounds of his name, and he digs in again, meanly and firmly. Steve rewards him with another cry and moans- the dam has burst, and now his солнышко cannot stay silent.

 

“P-Please Buck, please? Get in me, c’mon I can take it, just a little please!”

 

“Shhhhhh. Just a little longer, солнышко. Just let me- let me take care of you. Can you do that, sweetheart?”

 

Steve groans at the endearment and Bucky whines back.

 

“That’s it, sweetheart. My солнышко, my darling. Gonna take care of you, gonna treat you like you deserve.”

 

Then Bucky is lifting up Steve’s leg around his hip. Steve is whimpering constantly and grabs at Bucky. His grip is stronger than Bucky expects and it is urgent. Steve’s hand is hot on Bucky’s hip as it presses pushes guides Bucky towards Steve. Bucky feels himself being helplessly drawn in as he takes his cock in his metal hand and lines up.

 

Bucky looks up at Steve, a questioning look on his face as his mouth parts to ask- Steve rolls his eyes once more and scoots/wriggles himself up until the tip of Bucky’s cock is touching Steve’s hole.  They both gasp at the sensation.  Bucky nods solemnly and hunches even further over Steve, hovering above him and shielding him from the outside world.

 

They both make animalistic noises as Bucky begins to truly press in.  Steve’s eyes screw shut and his mouth falls open as he makes a desperate bid to relax.  Bucky’s eyes are wide open and zeroed in on where they are joined, as he makes a desperate bid not to immediately cum.

 

But oh- his Stevie keeps making little aborted thrusts with his hips, like he can’t help but want it, and Bucky whimpers as those thrusts slowly cause Steve’s hole to swallow more and more of his cock until the entire head is seated inside of Steve’s little body.  Bucky is honest to God shaking now in an effort not to just bury himself fully.  Steve is also shaking at the sensation of being opened up.

 

Steve takes a deep breath, noting how different his stomach feels with even just part of Bucky’s cock inside of him.  He needs to distract himself, so he tilts his head to the side and kitten licks one of Bucky’s fingers until Bucky lifts it up slightly and Steve can suck it into his mouth.

 

Buck is openly gaping above him and his hips make a slow, uncontrolled thrust into Steve.  Steve’s eyes widen as he bites down on Bucky’s finger, suddenly completelyfull.  Above him Bucky looks wild-eyed, whimpering as his hips keep giving tiny thrusts, trying to scramble up and further into Steve’s body.

 

Steve takes a spare hand and soothes Bucky’s flank this time.

  

“S’OK, you’re alright.  Feels good, Buck- y-you feel good.”

 

Bucky gives out a sob and buries his head into Steve’s shoulder.  He’s overwhelmed by the heaven on Earth that is Steve Rogers- the little punk is taking his first dick but he’s found the time somehow to comfort Bucky.  Bucky shakes his head and sobs into Steve’s neck again, but Steve just plants a kiss on Bucky’s temple and holds him tighter.  He’s a bit unprepared for the almost bear hug he gets in return, but Steve’s never been one to complain.

 

 

Bucky sits back then suddenly, pulling Steve with him in his arms.  Steve makes an undignified squawk and chuffs Bucky on the side of the head.  He feels Bucky’s watery grin on his shoulder and would comment but now Bucky is even deeper inside of him, pressed against the spot that makes his throat and hole clench and he can’t remember words.

  

From this position Steve controls the pace and the angle.  Steve smiles once he realizes this and turns his head to find Bucky’s lips, giving him a sweet and filthy kiss.  Bucky’s tongue around his is almost lazy- if Steve didn’t know any better he would say Bucky was just asleep.  Steve does know better.

 

Bucky is feeling how Steve is feeling- his senses have overwhelmed him to the point that everything is soaked in honey-syrup pleasure.  Moving too quickly seems unthinkable when there is so much to feel at one moment.

 

So they remain in that position.  Steve balanced on Bucky’s lap, skinny legs thrown over and spasming about Bucky’s thick trunk of a torso.  Steve undulates his body slowly and without urgency, mostly to press himself against Bucky’s body and feel the skin of his lover against his own.  Bucky’s cock stuffs him to the brim and every tiny movement re-rubs Bucky’s cockhead against Steve’s prostate.  Yet despite the fire that has ignited in their veins, neither man makes a move to quicken the pace. 

 

Instead Steve keeps kissing Bucky over and over and over again, finally cumming onto his lover’s stomach with a startled sigh.  Bucky cums a thrust later, muffling his own cry into Steve’s lips and gripping Steve’s hips tightly enough to bruise. 

 

They remain there for quite some time, panting and clinging to each other.  Outside dawn has broken- there is only time for a few short promises and goodbyes before their final mission begins.

 

-------------------------

 

At just 36 more breaths to go, Steve sees the helicopters fly overhead.  He does not think.  He leaps off the hood of the stolen Jeep and starts hauling his skinny ass up the mountain.  He makes it about 50 feet before the a gust of wind bursts through the shallow pass leading to the HYDRA base.  Around a second later, a titanic “BOOM” explodes across his eardrums.

 

 

Steve sees the light from the fire a few seconds later.  He is already running towards the flames.

 

 

Steve can barely breathe as he sprints up the mountain, and for once it is not due to his asthma.  What if Bucky is in there?  What if Steve can’t find him?

 

What if Steve finds him in there but can’t help him get out?

 

Steve refuses to acknowledge that possibility and keeps running, lungs burning as tears streak down his face.  He’s run for another 20 minutes before the helicopters fly overhead again.  This time Steve actually feels the heat from the second explosion as it hits the mountainside.  He stops, panting, at an overlook that gives him a viewpoint of the completely decimated HYDRA base.

 

It’s just a crater in the ground now.

 

Steve bites his lip so hard he draws blood.  He keeps running.

 

30 minutes later Steve is about halfway to the base.  The thought has occurred to him at this point that Bucky is a stupid little shit, because there is no way in hell he would have ever been able to help out in time given how far away Bucky left him with the Jeep.  His stupid, brave soldier.

 

Then Steve sees a figure stumbling in the distance.  Steve stops running.  His first instinct is to call out, but he remembers his last promise to Bucky (one of them has to keep their promises) and unshoulders his rifle.  He approaches as quickly as he can while trying to breathe normally and not give himself an attack.

 

His footsteps crunch on the ground, and he can’t help but cough as he draws in on the figure.  There’s so much smoke in the air it stings his eyes.  By the time he actually makes it within 5 feet of the figure he is practically bent over coughing and tears are streaming down his cheeks.

 

“Christ, Stevie, get it together.  You’ve still gotta carry me down this mountain.”

 

Steve laughs even as he doubles over, hacking his lungs out.  A comforting metal hand grabs his arm and starts hauling him in the other direction, pulling Steve’s smaller frame against its larger one.

 

“Come on, солнышко.”

 

Steve turns, still coughing, and presses kisses to any where he can reach on Bucky’s stomach and torso.  He lifts the metal hand around his shoulders and kisses its palm, causing Bucky to stumble as he limps along.  The blurry vision of Bucky smiling wildly, freely at him is worth it.

 

“Yeah, Buck.  Let’s find go find home.”

Chapter Text

LOOK AT THIS AMAZING EDIT by http://stuckyedits.tumblr.com/!!!! It's amazing.

 

 

AND NOW:  THE EPILOGUE

 

Paris in the springtime is beautiful. Bucky doesn’t know how many times he’s been here in his lifetime, but he’s convinced Paris has never been as beautiful as when Steve Rogers is in it.

 

They were meant to pass through the city 2 years ago. But Steve had fallen in love with the place- the American soldiers who had stayed after the war, the food that even his weak palate could taste, and the art-

 

When Bucky saw Steve’s face the first time they visited the Louvre he knew that he could never take Steve away. You don’t take an angel out of heaven if you can help it.

 

So they stayed. They found a little apartment that came with a stray dog named Bongo who had 3 legs and a heart of gold (when Steve is out shopping for groceries Bucky trains Bongo to attack anyone who gets too close to Steve). There are also 5 exit points and a covered balcony that Bucky can snipe anyone who comes within 500 yards of the place. Bucky likes the dog and the balcony.

 

Steve has taken to drawing like a fish to water, just like Bucky knew he would. He’s currently enrolled in some pretentious art school that he is excelling in- there’s talk of him doing a show.

 

Bucky is bursting with pride. And a little bit of jealousy, because Steve’s art teacher and his pencil moustache are a little too interested in Steve’s artwork. Among other things.

 

(Steve had gotten a mischievous glint in his eye when Bucky said this and the next artwork Steve had debuted to his art class had been a naked figure that looked a lot like Bucky and in a very provocative situation. Bucky doesn’t complain anymore.)

 

Things aren’t perfect. The fear of HYDRA is constant- but Steve points out that if they knew they were alive, they would never have been left alone this long. Bucky is careful, always going out in gloves. Steve wears fake glasses that are both adorable and the sexiest thing Bucky has ever seen.

 

They both have nightmares. They both wake up screaming. They both fight with each other about stupid, trivial things- whose turn it is to get milk, spoiling Bongo, fear of losing the other. But they always have each other to hold afterwards.

 

Forever is their promise. They’ll both fight with teeth bared to keep it.

 

Today is a good day however- Bucky has convinced Steve to take a break from drawing to do one of Bucky’s favorite activities. They have a favorite café by the Seine where one can just make out the back of the Notre Dame. They have a favorite table at this café towards the right hand corner, where Bucky has a clear line of sight for the entire piazza but they are secluded enough that two men can dine together uninterrupted.

 

Out of sight enough that Bucky can feed Steve the café’s excellent pea soup by the spoonful. Out of sight enough that no one sees Steve’s pretty blush, or the possessive gleam in Bucky’s eyes as he thumbs Steve’s lip until it’s a bright shade of red.

 

Later, Bucky will blame the comfort that has lain over them like a blanket the past few months. He’ll blame himself, as always, but he’ll also blame Steve for being so damn distracting and licking Bucky’s thumb.

 

It doesn’t matter, because a man gets close enough and sits down before Bucky and Steve can make a quick, clean escape.

 

Bucky’s face goes neutral and his metal fist flexes. Under the table Steve passes Bucky his gun as smoothly as they practiced. Steve sits back and puts his hand in his pocket to grab his knife. He’s had a lot of tutelage with Bucky over the past 2 years.

 

Then Steve’s face flickers in recognition, and he smiles.

 

“The man from the cell, right?”

 

Bucky face-palms in his head. Jesus, if it has a sob story and a puppy eyes Steve will move mountains for it. Hence their 3-legged dog.

 

The man smiles back and adjusts his glasses.

 

“Yes, excellent memory. My name is Dr. Erkisine, and I am a scientist working for a new government agency in the United States.”

 

“Do they have a name or know you are here?” Bucky growls, and Steve turns to him with a look of horror.

 

“Bucky- we’re not going to kill him!”

 

This time Bucky face-palms in real life. Dr. Erksine laughs softly. He reminds Bucky nothing of the doctors at HYDRA- he seems gentle.

 

“I appreciate that, Mr. Rogers. I hope you will listen to your husband, Mr.- he called you Bucky, didn’t he?”

 

Bucky frowns. “I missed your daughter on purpose last time. I will not make the same mistake twice.”

 

Dr. Erksine just gives Bucky a sad smile. “I thought you spared her life. I would have thanked you the last time we met, but I did not know at the time.”

 

Bucky used to be good at making threats. He wonders what happened.

 

Dr. Erksine leans forward then and asks Bucky a direct question,

 

“How many breathing attacks has he had? How many times has Steve been to the doctor?”

 

Steve makes an affronted noise, “I’m right here you know. And I’ve been doing a lot better thank you very-“

 

“Thirteen times, according to my records. October was a rough month. And to answer your question, only Agent Carter knows I am here. She is a trustworthy and exceptional woman. If I do not return, the instructions are to burn your file.”

 

Bucky mentally begins planning how best to dismember Dr. Erksine’s body in the toilet. Steve leans forward.

 

“I’ve been 15 times actually. Your records are off. Why? Got a magic cure-all that you’re selling?”

 

Dr. Erksine smiles wider and nods.

 

“That’s exactly what I’m selling, Mr. Rogers. Gentlemen, I am here to discuss my super-soldier project. I need good men. I believe I have found two of the best.”

 

Bucky and Steve look at each other, then back at Dr. Erksine. With a nod from Steve, then a cautious nod from Bucky, Steve turns back to Dr. Erksine.

 

“You’ve got their attention, doc.”

 

FIN