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An Alpha Like No Other

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The snarls of two rutting Alphas reverberate throughout the forty-fourth floor of Stark Tower. It’s a private suite with its own hallway to the elevator and fully soundproofed. No one’s gonna come looking for them, no one’s gonna care, except maybe Stark when he sees the mess they’ve made of the place. Bucky vaguely remembers hearing JARVIS informing him of their altercation and consequent property damage, but he finds it really fucking hard to care when this idiot wants to fight.

It’s a pretty typical Alpha-Alpha fight, the two of them growling at each other, muscles straining and flexing. The suite smells like sex and rut and everything masculine. Like a circus meant to draw in any stray omega with a sense of adventure and excitement. Two men ready to fuck, to breed, to take.

Yeah, pretty typical.

Except for one thing.

There’s not a single omega to be found within seventeen floors of them.


The thing is, Bucky remembers nearly killing Steve. He’s been careful to avoid him, skirting around him when he’s in a specific kind of mood - the murderous kind, that is - and it drives Steve absolutely insane. You’re not gonna hurt me, Buck , he says, and let it go, Buck, you’re safe here with me .

Now, though, it’s different. This fuckin’ punk wants to play this way, they’ll play.

Bucky’s gonna fucking test his theory right here and now.

This is all Steve’s fault, really. No, really . Steve fucking started it, wanting to get cozy with Bucky, like this is something they’d done all their lives, grabbin’ each other’s dicks like two goddamn omegas in heat and needing some comfort. Alphas don’t work that way, see, so when they both came into rut, Bucky tried to leave.

Steve bit him .

Bucky remembers bits and pieces of their old lives together, more than he’d ever thought he’d get back, honestly, but there are only two things he knows for absolute certain about Steve Rogers.

One, they’ve never fuckin’ done this shit before.

And two, Steve is monumentally stupid. Take this as exhibit-fucking-A.

They circle each other in Stark’s completely destroyed living room, sweat dripping down their bodies, cocks hard against their track pants, aching for release. Neither of them should be hard like this, not in a fight with another Alpha and no omega within scenting distance. The thick smell of them in the air should have them soft between their thighs, rut or no. They should both be jonesing to seek out an omega, ready to find one of their many omega friends to help them get through it, even though Steve always suffers through his ruts alone, the fucking idiot. Bucky’s pretty sure he’s a ninety-eight-year-old virgin .

What’s fucked up about this whole situation is that he doesn’t want to find an omega. He doesn’t want anything but the Alpha currently dancing from side to side like a snake ready to strike in front of him, and how the fuck is this even a thing ? Has he always been ass-backwards like this and not known it? There’s no fucking way; Alphas who bond with other Alphas are infertile, and Bucky knocked up a few babes in his day.

Way back in his day.

Did Hydra change him somehow? Cross some wires somewhere, mix and match that shit around in his brain just like they did with everything else? Or is it Steve? Has it always been Steve? After all, it was four words that broke him from seventy years of brainwashing.

No, Bucky decides, Hydra didn’t do this to him. This is about him and Steve, his best friend who’s currently attempting to beat the shit out of him, not in order to harm him but to breed him .

Nuh-uh. No way. Bucky might want Steve, but he ain’t doin’ it like that. Steve’ll take his cock like a bitch in heat, take his knot, too, take his seed, take it all . Every inch, every drop of him. And there’s one thing that’s gonna save his ass in this fight, because even though he and Steve are evenly matched, Steve pulls his punches when it comes to Bucky. He’s afraid to hurt him.

Well, like Bucky’s gone and said, he ain’t fuckin’ around now. Steve’s gonna find out just how hard Bucky’ll hit.

They go around for what seems like hours, but might just be a few minutes - who fucking knows with a cock this goddamn hard. In the end, Steve’s done in by his lack of caution, not because it’s Bucky he’s fighting and because he trusts Bucky, but because he doesn’t have the self-discipline of one James Buchanan Barnes, former Winter Soldier, assassin extraordinaire.

Bucky tackles him to the living room floor as soon as he sees an opening, and Steve goes down hard. He grunts and growls underneath Bucky, but Bucky holds him down with his metal arm and waits until he gives up.

Steve keeps struggling, and that’s when Bucky realizes - he’s talking about Steve Rogers here, the idiot who went and made himself a science experiment just because he wanted to fight in the world’s most idiotic war. Sure, he became the world’s most idiotic hero, too, but that ain’t the goddamn point. The point is, Steve’s fucked-up in the head and ain’t gonna give up.

So Bucky pays him back.

That spot, that tender spot at the juncture of shoulder and neck that instantly makes an omega go limp? He sinks his sharp canines into it and holds on for dear life, waiting for Steve to struggle against him. But then, magically, he doesn’t. He goes as boneless as an omega getting fucked within an inch of his life, and surrenders.

And holy shit, it’s beautiful. It’s the most beautiful fuckin’ thing Bucky’s ever seen in his own ninety-nine years of life, and that’s sayin’ something, because he’s hit a man between the eyes from twice the distance he should’ve been able to, and that was something fuckin’ else. This tops that shot by a mile, and suddenly he’s salivating, can’t get his clothes off fast enough to shove his cock into his best goddamn friend.

He tears his pants off as quickly as possible, considering he’s still got his teeth buried in Steve’s neck; Steve’s are easier to slip right off from underneath him, and Bucky starts to rock his hips back and forth, cock sliding between those tight ass cheeks that should be outright illegal, hot damn. Steve’s muscular body twitches underneath him, and he can hear him panting, moaning for it, voice wrecked from the low, guttural sounds he’s been making this past however-long-it’s-been.

Bucky finally lets go of Steve’s neck, watching him carefully for any signs of a fight left in him, but he leaves well enough alone and lets Bucky rock against him.

“Yeah, you want this?” Bucky whispers to him, breathing hot against the shell of Steve’s ear, and Steve shivers from head to toe with it, this forbidden desire roiling hot between them. “You want to be my bitch, don’t you. Always did; I see it now.”

Bucky’s panting too, can hardly catch any breath because of this glorious bastard writhing beneath him, pushing up against his cock now and making him feel like he’s gonna come and knot up any minute. Fuck, he’s never been this turned on in his entire life. No omega has ever come close to doing this to him. None ever could.

Because Steve .

He laughs, exhilarated. Something clicks into place, something he’d been missing all these years, something he didn’t even realize he needed. It’d been hidden away like a gem, and now it’s out in the open and shining in the light of his epiphany.

Steve .

Bucky leans back in and bites that same ear, listening to the hitch in Steve’s breath as he gasps for air.

“Yeah. Always wanted it. God, Steve, you just don’t even know. Got in under my skin and stayed there, didn’t you? Like you were waitin’ for this goddamn moment, you little shit. Knew I couldn’t help myself, huh? Your ass, your tight muscles… fuck , I bet your hole is twice as tight as any omega’s…”

He trails off, enjoying the moan his words earn him and the feeling of his… what the fuck does he call him? Not his omega, no; Steve’s about as far from an omega as one can be. His Stevie , then, arching up against him like a wanton little whore.

Bucky spews some more filth, about how he wants to breed his sweet Stevie, take him like a bitch, take care of him like he would an omega and treat him like he’s the greatest treasure in the entire universe.

Fuck, he’s gonna come if he doesn’t shut the hell up soon.

He spits on his fingers and runs them down, down to the apex of Steve’s thighs, shoving two into him unceremoniously, and Steve - well, he cries out and tenses up around it, hot and dry and so very tight it seems impossible that Bucky will be able to get his cock in there, but goddammit he’s going to. He’s going to because Steve has lifted his ass in the air, fucking presenting like a real omega would, and god , he has to get his cock in Steve before he ruins the show.

He leans forward so that he’s up against Steve’s back, hugging him close, intimate in a way they’ve never been before, and whispers in his ear.

“This is gonna hurt, baby. You sure you’re ready for it?”

There’s a sly note to his voice - no way in hell could he hold back at this point, and besides, Steve’s already made it abundantly clear that he’s not fighting back, nosiree ; he fuckin’ wants it, is going mad with it just like he’s driving Bucky out of his goddamn mind here. Steve had better be ready for it, ‘cause he’s gettin’ Bucky’s knot one way or another.

“Yes,” Steve whispers, low and quiet. “Yes, please.”

Bucky bites him again, and Steve whimpers underneath him, going completely still. Even his swaying hips stop moving.

“You’re gonna call me ‘Alpha,’ you got that?”

He gets a handful of Steve’s short hair and pulls, yanking Steve’s neck back, baring his entire throat. Bucky’s canines fucking ache; he wants to sink them into Steve’s neck.

So he does.

And Steve absolutely loses it.

“Yes, god yes, Alpha, yes, please. Please fuck me, Bucky, Alpha, god, will you fuckin’ put it in me already…”

Bucky apologetically licks Steve’s neck at the point where he’d buried his teeth, and then chuckles darkly.

“You asked for it.”

He slicks up his cock with spit - not gonna be anywhere near enough, but Steve’s a big boy and he can handle it - and slowly pushes in. It’s done excruciating inch by excruciating inch, because Steve is writhing in agonized pleasure beneath him and screaming bloody murder. He doesn’t struggle, though, doesn’t try to get away from it, just gets even more eager and starts begging Bucky to move, to fuck, to take him and own him and never let him go.

So Bucky fucks him, pushing in the last two inches and not giving Steve time to adjust to the dry slide of his cock, just thrusts experimentally a few times before ramming him hard. Certainly harder than he’d ever rammed an omega, even though they’re made to take it like this. Even though Steve’s super soldier body is most definitely not.

Bucky doesn’t care, see.

Sure, omegas are great, wet little creatures that mewl like heaven and smell so sweet, but then there’s this . This tight, hot hole with a vise grip on Bucky’s cock. This Alpha, this gorgeous creature on his knees in supplication, presenting to him like it’s the last goddamn thing he’ll ever do in his life, and Bucky’s gonna - shit - he’s gonna bust inside him like Steve belongs to him.

He growls at the thought, not sure Steve wants him to go that far but not sure he can hold back, either. Steve senses it, though, and pushes back against him, asking for it, begging for it with his body. He’s lost his voice, they’ve been at this for so long; all he can get out is a long, wheezing breath. But with his enhanced hearing, Bucky can hear it.

“Alpha, please, Alpha…”

That’s it, that’s one hundred percent done, as they say, because Bucky’s cock is knotting and Steve is taking it - holy shit - even as he grunts in pain. Bucky has to pull back to see, to watch as the impossible happens, as another Alpha takes his knot like he’s Bucky’s little bitch.

Bucky grabs him, wraps his arms and legs around him and pulls him to the side, so that he’s spooning his Stevie while the knot pulses and pounds and keeps them both moaning with pleasure. His spunk is still hot, stuck up inside Steve like it is, burning his cockhead in the inferno it’s already wrapped in, and here, again, he comes, spurting up into his Alpha best friend - god damn , that’s really happening, isn’t it? - and Steve just flies high on the sensation. Alpha or no, the knot’s pressed up against Steve’s prostate, and he’s come three times on Bucky’s cock already. And there’s still fifteen or so minutes before Bucky can let go.

Steve’s coming bone dry and whimpering by the time it’s done, exhausted and fucked-out and stunning with his own knot red and inflamed, but he doesn’t move when Bucky pulls out, just makes a sound of discomfort and snuggles back against him. Bucky kisses his temple and holds on for dear life. This, today, this crossed a line that they can never come back from.

And the honest truth is, Bucky doesn’t give a rat’s ass. This was how it was meant to be all this time, him and Steve forever. ‘Unnatural’ or ‘weird’ or whatever anyone else wants to call it, it’s none of their goddamn business anyway. They’re together to the end of the line, and if someone doesn’t get that?

Fuck ‘em.