“Bucky… is… alive…”
Steve loosens his hold in shock, which was enough time for… Loki? this other Steve? to gain the upper hand. He turns quickly in Steve’s arms and throws him, forcing him to land on his stomach with an oomph. He’s pinned immediately, the other Steve’s body flush with his, his arms wrapped tightly in the other man's grip, but Steve wasn’t putting up much of a fight anymore, still reeling from the information he just processed.
“How? Where is he?” Steve says. He tries to kick, but the other man has his legs locked down as well, and seems to be just as strong as he is.
“I can’t… tell you,” the other man pants.
“You’re lying, then.” Steve spits, a new kind of of anger in his voice. He’s only been in this new world for weeks, and this new Steve has the audacity to bring up Bucky. Whether or not he is telling the truth it’s cruel either way. The sting of hearing his name, the one he was unable to protect…
“I’m not,” the other Steve says. Steve grunts and attempts to twist out, and he can feel the muscles on the man above him strain, but not break. “You have to… trust me.”
“Who are you?”
A quick movement, and suddenly Steve feels his cowl ripped from his head, taking the comm system with it.
“I know you love him.”
Steve is shocked into stagnation for one crucial moment. No one knew that. Not Peggy, not the commandos, not even the members of SHIELD. No one.
“I know how much you miss him. How much you miss everyone. I remember that feeling, waking up and seeing it all gone, being in a whole new world but still being alone.”
Steve pants under other Steve’s hold. “If you understand, then why won’t you tell me where he is? If you understand me, you know I’d do anything for him.”
“It’s… complicated. I can’t. I’ll mess with—”
“It’s never complicated, you’re just a fucking coward,” Steve spits.
“You don’t understand.” The other Steve says forcefully, and Steve shakes his head in distaste as much as he can. “The situation has changed, the rules are different—”
“Then I know you can’t be me, because I know that rules are no obstacle to doing what’s right.” Steve shoots back.
“You know I am you. No one else knows about me and him. And you have to know that there’s more at stake here,” The other Steve says
Steve swallows, feeling the other Steve’s muscles straining against holding him down, the cold floor still littered with bits of glass biting into his skin. “Tell me, then. If it’s about Bucky, I can help.”
The other Steve is silent for a moment, and Steve uses the break to try to escape again. The other Steve anticipates this and shifts into a full body pin, pressing the other Steve’s head to the floor, and wrapping both his legs around his own.
“I can’t,” the other Steve says after the brief struggle.
“Then why would you bring it up?!” Steve shouts the last word.
“It was uncalled for, I’m sorry. I just needed…”
“The upper hand. Well you got it, punk, so why are you still here?”
Silence again. Steve really can’t move this time, crushed under the weight of himself, which was remarkably heavy.
“The reason I’m still here is a bit more… selfish,” The other Steve starts.
“Remember when we first got the serum, that first moment when we stepped out of the machine and everything was… perfect? When Peggy had that look in her eyes we’d never seen a woman give us before, when we could see so many more colors, and we could take a deep breath without feeling like hell?”
“Remember what Bucky thought?”
Bucky again, huh? “That I they finally gave me a body that could stand up to my stubborn streak,” Steve says.
The other Steve laughs. “He did say that didn’t he. No, no I’m talking about the first time he fucked us.”
Steve face immediately flushes red. “I…um…”
“It was fantastic, right? He didn’t have to treat us like paper anymore, could go all out. But at the same time, it wasn’t enough, was it?
“We never told him of course, because there was nothing he could do about it, but on the off nights when we were alone, we thought about it. We missed it, the feeling of being small in his arms, of mixing the pain with the pleasure, the sting of it after it happened. Suddenly, we were the strongest person on the planet, and no one could match up. Well no one, but ourselves.”
Steve swallows hard.
“Remember that hotel in Paris?”
Anger and embarrassment wash over Steve hotly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, and he tries again to break free, but his efforts are futile.
The Steve above him continues to speak. “We were afraid. Afraid it was all going to get taken away, that we’d wake up to find out it was all a bad dream, or that Stark had found a way to reverse the process and we were going to be forced to go back. We used to have nightmares about that.” The other’s Steve’s voice was empathizing, full of pity, and Steve rejects it immediately.
“Shut up,” Steve grits out.
“But that hotel in Paris, we were on tour, and the show was cancelled, and we were all alone in our room. It used to be a brothel, remember? It still had mirrors on half the wall, from the floor to the ceiling. We couldn’t help but look at ourselves. All that strength, all that power, in that new man in the mirror and the only thing we wanted that man to do was—"
“Shut up!” Steve says again, but he can’t help but feel a heavy weight in his stomach, embarrassment and arousal mixing as the memories surface. The other Steve is hitting the nail right on the head.
“Remember? We stared in the mirror at our body, so big and thick, and just…looked. Felt. We took our time with it; we squeezed the muscles on our chest, felt the strength underneath our quads as we flexed, we’d drag our hands up our biceps and shoulders, just marveling at the sheer mass of them. Explored, felt, touched…”
“Stop…” Steve swallows, hard, but he can remember it so vividly, like it happened yesterday. It was a quiet night, and he still felt mildly dysphoric looking in the mirror at the man he then was. He would run his fingers over his face, rationalizing that man was him, accepting that he was now considered perfection, wondering what that really meant. What perfection really looked like.
“We wondered, who was that man? What did he look like? How did he feel? ” The other Steve echoes his own thoughts directly.
The other Captain’s voice was sharp in his ear. “Do you remember what we did next?”
Steve swallows hard, because yeah, he does. He’s given up the pretense of struggling, too dizzy with the memories being brought to the front of his mind. The other Steve’s hand loosens its grip and starts to wander, pushing him slightly off his stomach and digging his leather clad fingers into the front of his chest, digging one into the opening of the suit.
“We started to strip.”
The other Steve starts to peels his suit open, the hook and loop closure making a sharp noise as he does. Steve feels his heart begin to pound, blood quickly rerouting to his abdomen and roaring in his ears. The other Steve no longer has him in a bind. He could stop this; he could stop this right now.
The Captain unbuckles Steve’s utility belt, and it clatters to the ground. He reaches in Steve’s waistband to untuck the top of the skintight suit shirt, and begins to pull it upwards.
“We went slow, so slow. Giving ourselves a little tease.” The other Steve says. “Remember how much we loved the abs? They were bigger than Bucky’s were, even after he started working on the docks.” The Captain’s hand was hot where his presses against Steve’s abdomen, and he digs his fingers in. Underneath him, Steve moans quietly, chest heaving. He should stop this—even if it wasn’t Loki, he’s still an unknown, and he should be taken in, and not… not…
The other Steve continues digging his fingers in, as he slides the shirt up and over his pecs, then skims his gloves over his chest, pressing and squeezing and kneading his body all over.
“We never told anyone how sensitive we got, either,” the other Steve murmurs, and suddenly a red glove was over one pec, thumb and forefinger teasing a nipple between leather fingers.
Pleasure shoots through Steve’s system, and he gasps, closing his eyes tightly.
Behind him, the Captain laughs, not unkindly, and shifts his body. Suddenly, Steve feels the thick, unmistakable line of a hard cock—his own hard cock—digging into this backside. The Captain tweaks his nipple again, and Steve can’t swallow the moan fast enough, fingertips grabbing at nothing underneath him.
Suddenly the Captain lifts his torso up so that they’re both on their knees, Steve’s back against his chest. A part of Steve notes that the other Steve has now given up his entire advantage, and that he could break free in a matter of seconds and turn the tides on this fight.
He has given him a way out.
He doesn’t take it.
Steve lifts his arms above his head and the Captain pulls the shirt from his body, taking the gloves along with. Steve turns and the other Steve is there, and he kisses himself, frantically. They move the same, but the other Steve’s moves are surer, bolder, and Steve finds himself following his lead. The other Steve presses a tongue inside and the kiss deepens, biting each other’s lips and licking around each other’s mouths, digging for more.
The Captain pulls away first and bites Steve’s twisted neck, and Steve sighs, the pain singing a harmony through his head. The other Steve wraps a massive bicep around chest, holding him in place. He soothes the bite mark with a swipe of his tongue, before kissing Steve’s jaw, and whispering in his ear: “Remember what we did next?”
The other Steve continues. “We finally had a chance to look at ourselves, and we were gonna take it.” The Captain’s hands dig into Steve’s waist, the leather gloves rough against his skin. The fingertips pull at the waistline of his pants, inching the fabric lower and lower until it starts pulling his cock down with it.
“That was the hard part of the whole thing.” The other Steve says with a sigh. “We used to dream about the guys that looked and acted like the man we saw in that mirror.” The other Steve continues to inch the pants down Steve’s waist, and Steve feels the fabric slide over his ass, revealing the bare skin to the air. “We dreamed about them fucking us raw and stuffing us full and leaving us wet. Picking us up and slamming us into walls and taking and taking and taking until we were nothing but a ragdoll, cum-stuffed and stupid, stretched open wide and used.”
Steve’s face burns and his cock throbs.
“But that’s where the guilt set in, right? Because we had been given this incredible gift, but all we could think about is how much we wanted that body to be behind us, inside us, and not part of us.”
“It was selfish,” Steve says by way of admission.
The other Steve nods against Steve’s back, truly and completely understanding.
“Well, I’ve learned something over the years. Sometimes, we deserve to be a little selfish.”
Steve’s not sure if he agrees with that, but he stays silent.
“And guess what,” the other Steve says lowly, humor seeping back into his tone. Finally, he pulls the pants down the curve of Steve’s ass, over his cock which sprung up to slap his stomach wetly, and down to his knees. “That body you love so much? Is behind you now.”
The Captain pulls his hand free of Steve’s chest, and Steve drops to his hands and knees on the cold floor, hands finding purchase amongst the glass. Across the way, he could see the scepter, and faintly wonders if he could see a glow. He’s distracted again not a moment later with the feeling of Steve’s gloves against each of his cheeks, spreading his ass open as wide as it can.
“Now this,” the Captain’s voice had grown rougher, “this is the part we missed. Never could get the angle right in the mirror.” Steve could feel the heat of the other’s Steve’s gaze on his asshole and squirms slightly. He hears a spitting noise, and feels saliva dripping wet down his crack. Steve spits again, then follows it with a finger.
“All this strength, and speed, and size, and we’ve still got the tightest ass on the damn planet,” the other Steve continues. “Look how fucking tight that is, yet I know, I know this thing is capable of taking a pounding,”
Steve chuckles, then gasps as the Captain pushes in a finger, a gloved finger, inside of him, pressing him hard and deep, just how—
“Just how we like it, Steve,” the other Steve says. “Bucky always wanted to take care of us, remember? Take it slow? He never realized how much we wanted it to burn, did he? Never was strong enough to make it hurt.”
The fingers are thick, made thicker by the gloves, and Steve feels his eyes water, even as he starts to push back against the intrusion. Small gasps escape the back of his throat, and his voice starts to pitch higher.
“But I do. I know we need it hard, I know we need it to last, to hurt, to feel. And I remember being where you are. I remember how hard it was to feel anything. How easy it was to go numb.”
Another spitting sound, and one finger is replaced by two. It stings upon entry, but the other Steve is unyielding, and in moments Steve is actively pressing backwards again, already thinking about more. It feels like fire, like something inside of himself has been awakened, and he feels dizzy, chasing it for more.
“Fuck,” the other Steve says. “You should see yourself. Or, well, I guess you are, huh?” He continues digging in his ass without mercy, and Steve starts rocking in time with the thrusts. “Doesn’t it amaze you how much this body can take? We could never get more than two fingers in ourselves, but that didn’t stop us from trying. The angle was off, couldn’t hit the sweet spot, but we really just liked the stretch, liked being filled up, liked knowing we could take it, take anything. Even a supersoldier.”
The Captain shifts, and leans over Steve’s back. The fabric of his uniform scratches against the bare skin of his back, but most noticeably, Steve can feel the other Steve’s bare cock, his own cock, grinding into the muscle of his ass.
Steve chuckles against his neck, breath hot on his bare skin. “That was our favorite thing to look at, our brand new dick,” he continues. “It a bit longer, a lot thicker. We’d wrap our new hands around it and think about something like that getting driven up our own ass. Imagine, a dick like that with our own strength and speed, one that could match up to the rawing our ass really wanted.”
“Christ,” Steve manages to choke out. Steve’s thick fingers, leather fingers, scissoring and thrusting inside of him. Everywhere they touch feels like a flame. “Where did I learn to talk like this?”
The other Steve laughs, but doesn’t answer. “You still think about getting fucked by yourself? You don’t have to answer; I know you do. Because I did, and I still do.”
The fingers pull out suddenly, and Steve drops his forehead to the ground as he feels the other Steve spit again, then start to line up.
“And you know what? Today’s our lucky day,” he says. And all at once, the thick cockhead –his own fucking cockhead —demands entrance, the pressure increasing endlessly as his hole stretches wider and wider. Steve moans, high and needy, and arches his back, pushing out as Steve pushes in. It burns, hot and heavy, and Steve fucking loves it.
“Fuck, so fucking tight, fuck. ” The Captain keeps pushing, and Steve’s moans topple over one another in response, feeling like a fire is set underneath his skin, ratcheting upwards until finally the head pops in, and Steve’s voice cracks on a shout as he slides a few inches back on his own cock.
The Captain moans in his own voice, long and low, and Steve feels his cock slide in and out a few inches at a time. Steve can feel him rearranging his insides, each press in and out feeling as intense as the first, but it’s quickly becoming insufficient. They are right there, cock-in-ass on the fucking floor, and Steve—this other Steve that Steve still isn’t convinced is him—promised to make him feel, to make him hurt.
Steve steels himself, then pushes his hips back in a sharp motion, spearing himself on the other Steve’s thick cock.
“ Fuck !” The Steve behind him trembles slightly, cursing.
“Harder!” Steve snaps. “Now.”
“America’s ass, always asking for more,” he snarks with humor, then in one fluid movement, the Captain pulls Steve into his lap, wraps one thick arm around his neck, and starts to pound.
Steve shouts, his eyes rolling back in his head and his mouth tipping open, a hand scrabbling behind him to grip onto the other Steve’s leg as he holds on for dear life. His prostate is being absolutely assaulted in this position, slammed with more force than anything he’s ever felt in his life. He’s being assailed on all sides with sensation, all of the things he likes about sex happening all at once, and he can barely recognize the sounds he’s making any more: moans and curses and pitchy grunts escaping his throat without filter. He can feel the vibration in his throat as the Captain holds him in place with a thick leather arm, kissing up to his neck.
“I know—exactly what we want,” the other Steve forces out. “The angle, the size, the speed, all of it .”
Steve can barely hear him anymore, can only hold on for the ride. The Captain moves at a seemingly impossible speed. Their hips make a violent slapping sound as his ass bounces off the Captain’s pelvis, as he struggles to keep up with the other Steve’s powerful cock.
“I know about how much we lusted after this body, how much we wanted it on top of and inside of us. I know of every late night fantasy we kept for ourselves, every too-long glance we gave ourselves after a shower, every fist-in-the-mouth jack off session we used to do in our suit.”
Steve cries out as a hand grips his cock and starts pulling on it. He was already so wet, the slide was easy to maintain.
“Oh yeah, we loved this costume, didn’t we?” The other Steve grits out, ball slapping Steve’s ass so hard it was probably going to leave a mark. “Most importantly, all the leather. God, you have no idea the things you can get in leather nowadays. How many times did we ruin a set of gloves like this? Huh? Look at them.”
Steve looks down and whimpers, the visual of his own cock surrounded by the thick, smooth leather of the other Steve’s gloves almost too much to handle.
“You gonna ruin these too?” the Captain asks.
“Yeah,” Steve chokes out. The other Steve’s mouth licks up his neck, tracing the jawline up to his ear. He sucks the lobe, then bites, and Steve’s eyes fall shut again. The fucking is relentless, the sound of the joining obscene and wet, Steve’s dick jabbing his prostate and sending lightning through his nerves and stars behind his eyes, the other Steve keeping perfect time with his hand on his cock.
The other Steve licks his way into Steve’s ear, and Steve feels himself rocketing towards the edge.
“I’m gonna—” Steve chokes out. He feels his balls tighten, and suddenly something inside of him gives way, all the pressure releasing and exploding outwards. He cries out to the heavens as the other Steve fucks the cum out of him, twitching and jerking with pleasure as he coats the Captain’s glove, body shaking as he shoots more and more ropes of cum from the other Steve’s hand, lightning shooting up his spine.
The Captain doesn’t relent, moans gaining in pitch as he loses his rhythm in his thrusts, and Steve can feel him twitch inside his ass as he comes inside of him, filling his ass with his own semen as he bites his neck, like he was trying to mark some sort of ownership over himself.
The other Steve’s hands loosen their hold, and Steve collapses on the ground in front of him, fucked out and spinning with endorphins. He takes several moments just to breathe, then turns around to look behind him, where the other Steve is panting hard, leaning back on his knees, his half hard cock hanging out of his pants and leaving a line of wetness on the fabric.
Steve rolls onto his back, feeling a pleasurable sting on his ass, his hole gaping, likely seconds from dripping out what was just put in on the hard floor.
“Listen,” the other Steve says, and he’s moving quickly, tucking himself back away in his pants. “I know what it feels like, now, where you think that nothing is worth it. I remember struggling to feel things. Just know it gets better, I’m living proof of that.”
Steve swallows, watching as the other man gets to his feet, straightening himself up and putting his comm back in . “As long as you remember that even if you are being selfish, make sure you don’t leave anyone else hurt because of it.”
The other Steve stares for a moment, a flash of guilt shooting across his expression before it smooths back into mission mode. He grasps the scepter, and Steve just lets him, trusting that the other man will do what is right..
“Captain.” The other Steve salutes.
“Captain.” Steve responds from the ground, and he watches, cum drying on his chest, as other Steve leaves.