Work Header

Mission Objectives

Work Text:

Steve didn't know what he'd expected when he'd agreed to use this of all places so that he, Sam, and Bucky could meet secretly with Tony and Rhodey to exchange intel. At the time, the location seemed like the least of his worries; he'd been too busy establishing an underground resistance with Sam and Bucky (who'd recovered enough to fight with them) against a resurgent Hydra, who were behind the new superhero registration mandates from the Sokovia Accords--the final straw that turned him from patriot to outlaw in the eyes of the world. Tony and Rhodey had pretended to comply with the Accords but were really working from the inside through Stark Industries, the military and the secret service and gaining intel for the resistance with help from Pepper and Natasha, so that Steve, Bucky and Sam knew where to hit HYDRA’s installations and rescue “non-compliant” Inhumans and superheroes. Their main problem had been passing that intel when only a face-to-face meet would do. When Tony said he was a member of an exclusive club that prided itself on privacy and anonymity, that met in a building that he'd fortified himself against surveillance as well as he had Stark Tower, whose members discouraged outsiders and held closed gatherings where masks, costumes and pseudonyms weren't out of place, he'd been too happy to find a secret meeting place to question the fact that it was a high end sex club.

Tony himself had been ready to regale him with tales of wilder days; he loved nothing more than making Steve blush uncontrollably. But uncharacteristically, a quick, hard look from Rhodey shut him up immediately, with none of the banter and pet nicknames it would have usually involved. Anyway, that was none of his business, and he and the Commandos had been no strangers to meetings in brothels and dive bars of all kinds during the war. But whatever it was he'd thought the club would be like--it hadn't been this. Though there was a bar in the corner and alcoves with booths and couches tucked along the sides, everywhere else he looked there was equipment of all kinds that he’d never seen before or not in this context with this much naked flesh. Steve's eyes were drawn back to a raised platform at the center of the room where there was a large wooden X with a person chained to it, being whipped by someone who had clearly had a lot of practice and time to work their partner over to their evident enjoyment. Steve swallowed, suddenly dry-mouthed and hot, and headed to the bar to get a juice to cool his sweat-prickling skin and occupy his time until he could make contact with Tony and Rhodey.

He got his drink promptly--no surprise given the flirty smile the bartender gave him and the appreciative looks from the other patrons. He turned away and tried to make his lean against the bar nonchalant and not let himself stare like the embarrassed rube he felt like, glad that his mask hid his blushing face, even though the flush was apparent down his naked, oiled chest. Damn Tony anyway for picking this outfit, no doubt specifically to embarrass him. He was wearing nothing but combat boots, the tiniest booty shorts he’d ever seen, and a mask covering his whole face. Steve was sure it would have been the porn version of his Captain America uniform (marks 1 or 2) if Tony had thought he could get away with it; Steve was also sure he had Rhodey or Pepper to thank that he had not. As it was he resigned himself to being stared at like a side of beefcake all night (which honestly wasn't a new thing really) until Tony showed up.

And speak of the devil and he shall appear. Steve could hardly have missed Tony and Rhodey as they entered. Tony, always eye-catching and the center of any room, literally glowed, with modified repulsor gauntlets on and fake arc reactors set in the center of a leather chest harness and just over his crotch, strapped over pants that looked painted on. Rhodey was no less imposing in head to toe black, radiating easy authority even in a silky button down, tank top, jeans, and riding boots. Steve was used to seeing the two of them out on the town but not like this; in particular his eye was drawn to the collar and leash that Rhodey had on Tony. The casual but confident air with which Rhodey held it, the effortlessness of their pace together with Tony slightly behind, the way they settled into a booth in the corner of the room with Tony on his knees, how Rhodey surveyed the room like he owned it and pinned his gaze on Steve--something about it made his stomach flutter a little, even though he knew it was part of the masquerade. He licked his lips and looked away quickly, as if afraid to be caught staring. They were supposed to be strangers, but in this moment it felt too true. He was even feeling like a stranger to himself.

His eyes skated over the other patrons of the establishment, and he hardly felt more settled. Everywhere there were other pairs and groups in everything from elaborate costumes and lingerie to jeans to nothing at all. The main attraction seemed to be the cross on the stage, but in the little alcoves he caught glimpses of others kneeling or kissing or hands wandering to places he tried not to look to closely at. Everywhere he heard the low throb of music that pulsed in his gut and occasional cracks and low cries. Naked as he was, he should have been cool, but it felt like the temperature in the room was creeping upward. There was too much to look at, but he wasn't so distracted that he didn't catch Tony coming up to him with his distinctive strut.

"Hey baby, going my way?"

Tony’s once over made the bartender’s look chaste by comparison. Even the cheesiness of the line couldn’t cancel out Steve’s blush. The mask covered it and his eyeroll though. Steve turned and tried to make his bar lean toward Tony more seductive than sarcastic.

“Maybe. I guess it depends on where you’re going. Or where you’re thinking of taking me.” Steve gave himself points for the porn dialogue set up, and mentally stuck his tongue out at Bucky, who'd disparaged Steve’s undercover abilities. His exact words had been, “Jesus Christ Steve, you can’t lie your way out of paper bag.” Bucky’d argued that he had more experience with ops and should take the lead. Steve had pointed out, in a restrained fashion if he did say so himself, his own eidetic memory and lessons from Natasha as well as the difficulties of disguising Bucky’s arm in a clothing optional situation and Sam’s lack of spy training. Ultimately it had come down to him giving Captain America face and Sam calling a end to their “junior high slapfight” and declaring a compromise--instead of waiting at their latest botlhole, he and Bucky would both be in the car outside as lookouts and backup so all three of them didn’t get made.

Tony at least seemed to appreciate Steve’s undercover abilities and innuendo skills, as well as other things; his smile grew even more lascivious, and he leaned further into Steve’s space. “Well I was thinking of taking you over this bar, but my partner insists we should do the polite thing and invite you to play with us properly.” He gestured at Rhodey, who was leaning back in the booth, coolly watching this bit of theater unfold. Steve suddenly felt ten times more naked under that appraising gaze, with the heat of Tony at his side. He licked his dry lips and was about to stutter out a hopefully suave reply when another arm slid around his waist. He managed to keep his jerk of surprise in check, recognizing the hardness of Bucky’s metal arm even under the long-sleeved T-shirt and leather glove.

“Is that an open offer?”

Bucky’s grin, the only thing visible under what looked like a balaclava, was pure Brooklyn charmer, so familiar from Steve seeing it aimed at him and tons of girls and still pants-tightening after all this time, but the tenseness in his arm and around his eyes was all Winter Soldier. The sight of what had to be Sam beside him, equally obscured by a balaclava, made Steve's stomach flip for reasons other than ill-timed arousal. Whatever was going on was pretty clearly an emergency. Bucky brushed what would look like an absent kiss to Steve's temple, murmuring at supersoldier volume, "New member in the red's Hydra. Might be more."

Steve managed not to let his spine straighten or to look around obviously. They had done a thorough background check of all the existing members, but there had always been a danger with anyone new added to the party last minute, either a member or a plus one. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the beefy guy in red leather pants who was watching Tony and company with what might have looked like barely concealed lust if it hadn’t been so cold. Steve slid his hand around Bucky's side and, pretending to fidget, tapped out in Morse code, "Abort?" Bucky tapped back, "No. Continue and evade."

Meanwhile, Tony was answering with admirable nonchalance, "Hi. Tony and I don't often say this but sorry if I overstepped. Didn't realize he was a package deal. We can call the whole thing off, but the more the merrier if you're OK. My partner would certainly not say no." Tony gestured at Rhodey who was leaning forward in the booth and staring at them all intensely, clearly poised for action not just appreciation.

Sam grinned, tossed off an easy salute that made Rhodey lean back slightly. "Hi. Robin and no problem, man. We were outside for a minute, since we saw that guy in the red. Miles here knew him back in the day, and we wanted to see if any more friends were coming in. And Grant's worth overstepping for, and luckily we like to share. Don't let us stop the party."

Tony's eyes were telegraphing the same wariness now that Steve was feeling, having clearly caught the Hydra reference and the mission go-ahead, but none of that showed in his usual flippant tone. "Well then, let's get this party started shall we?" Tony led the way over to Rhodey whose pose was showing the same restrained tension. "Honeybunch, it looks like we have more people to play with; this fine ass came with some friends. And I guess there are even more around?"

Bucky was a past master at quick and covert surveillance, and Steve could see him already casing the room out of the corners of his eyes and in quick glances, even as he “introduced” them to Rhodey. “Miles, Robin and this here’s Grant. We got held up by an old acquaintance over there in red, but we’re ready to play if you are.”

Rhodey nodded, accepting Bucky’s sitrep and assessment, but then looked to Steve. “You can call me Sir. And what are you up for?” In this situation, that was his version of “Call it, Cap.” Steve knew as well as them all that this required an adjustment in their plans. They had to go forward since they needed the intel that night for the attack on a Hydra installation in a couple of days. They’d agreed on a face-to-face meet instead of their usual dead drops because Tony and Rhodey indicated they had crucial information to exchange and had to consult on planning the attack--how many people in the Hydra installation, the layout of the facility and where things were, and how to disable the alarms and what tech to look for. But now, instead of the fake negotiation and heavy petting they’d planned on, it was going to have to be a whole scene to convince the Hydra operative that this assignation was on the level, to explain the presence of five people instead of three, and to cover the exchange of information with music and--activities. Steve thought rapidly about their objectives, what he knew of this place and its protocol, and, briefly, of the flutter in his stomach on seeing the cross and of some of his buried late night fantasies.

He nodded at the center of the room where the scene had just finished; the shaky bliss the the sub's face and the tender guiding hand his partner laid on his arm as he led him over to a futon to the side made something clench in Steve’s gut. He quickly focused on the objectives at hand. “I want that,” he said, nodding at the cross. “For Sir and Tony to tie me to that and hit me with the flogger and make me take it. Make me count. Miles and Robin can help.” He could think of no better way to let all of them know number of the guards, and Steve was practically made for this. He’d do anything to complete this mission and take down Hydra, and if so happened that even the idea of it was making him hot again, well so much the better. He got the rest out in a rush. “I can take anything you can dish out, whether it’s a beating or sex.”

It was a fact, but didn’t come out as challenging as he’d meant it to, more a plea for them to see he could do this. He felt more than saw Bucky and Sam shift beside him, and Tony licked his lips, but Rhodey just held his eyes steady on him. Steve resisted the urge to say more and let his eyes do his talking. Rhodey must have heard him OK, since he simply nodded once and said “Safeword’s are standard red-yellow-green, and you can tap out of this whole thing anytime. No harm, no foul.” He waited until Steve nodded acknowledgement. “What are y’all’s limits? And don’t tell me none.”

He fixed Steve with a gimlet eye until Steve muttered, a little sulkily and still turned on despite everything, “No permanent damage.” He could feel Bucky rolling his eyes at him without even looking. “And no, no temperature play.” Sam brushed his hand slightly, as good as a squeeze. Rhodey simply nodded again, and turned to Bucky. “And you?”

Bucky actually considered for a moment. “Same as him but no bondage or impact for me. And I get to hold him while you do it. And kissing’s OK but no sex except for Grant and Robin. Otherwise I’m cool and I’ll safeword if that changes.” He met Rhodey’s eyes steadily, but Steve knew that reassurance was as much for him and Sam as anybody. Steve’s other reason for wanting to come on this mission had been to spare Bucky the sight of anything he might find triggering, and he’d bet Sam had come in with him for the same reason. But Bucky was letting them know he’d be OK and would take care of himself and have their backs as lookout.

Sam and Tony both specified no blood, but were fine with sex (Tony with another exaggerated leer that broke the building tension), but it was Rhodey finally rising and turning Steve so that they were back to chest that brought Steve to attention and negotiations to an end. His voice was a low warning in Steve’s ear and Steve looked at the half circle of men in front of him--lovers, brothers-in-arms, men he would trust with his life--all looking at him with a kind of pre-mission anticipation tinged with a darker note. “It should go without saying but I’ll call it if I see any danger and I won’t spill your blood. Are you ready?”

He drew a finger down Steve’s lips and chin, along his neck and over his bare chest. Steve shivered and stared the rest of them in the eye. “Yes. Use me how you need.” He’d never meant anything more in his life.


The spotlight on the stage, low as it was, still obscured the rest of the club beyond. Steve could still hear everyone around him who was going to watch this display, including the Hydra agent they had to trick. But his awareness rapidly narrowed down to the cross in front of him and the four men around him. He stepped up and stretched himself out against the cross’s comparatively cool surface. With the lights and heat and the sound of his blood pounding in his ears, Steve felt a moment of disorientation, cut off when Bucky stepped up on the other side of the platform into the vee of the crosspieces and ruffled his hair. Rhodey trailed his own caress along Steve’s arm and back, leaning in to murmur “Number of guards first.” The mission. Right.

Rhodey adjusted the length of chains on the cuffs, closed each one securely, and checked the fit, even though he knew Steve could break out of them in a heartbeat and that they couldn't cause him any lasting damage. He did it with such care that, even knowing that the stakes, Steve calmed even further. Rhodey stepped back and Steve locked eyes with Bucky in that moment of anticipation. With his hearing, even over the bass of the music that moved in a low throb through the room and his body, he sensed Rhodey's test swings and shivered at the soft sweep of the tassels against his back on the warm up. He gripped the chains in anticipation of the first blow, and it thudded onto his upper back, solid and heavy and sure. "One," he counted. The next landed and the next in steady rhythm, criss crossing his back and ass and upper thighs until his whole back side was a warm and building ache all over. He sank into the count, aware only of his body and Bucky’s eyes on him and distantly of his own voice. The heat and ache built and built until he couldn’t help crying out, count faltering but not stopping. Bucky wiped the sweat from his brow murmuring, “You’re doing so good baby. You look so beautiful taking it like this. You’ve got this.” And Steve did. He could have hung here forever, for however long they needed him. Minutes or ages later, Rhodey finally stopped and stepped up behind him, the heat of his body and silkiness of his shirt activating and soothing the growing pain. Steve felt Rhodey's breath flutter against his ear. "How are you doing?"

"Green," Steve mumbled, trying to moisten his mouth. Bucky somehow materialized a water bottle from somewhere and tipped a few small sips into his mouth.

"Good boy." Rhodey petted him again, and Steve felt a pleased lassitude but was simultaneously aware of every inch of skin, especially where Rhodey was touching him. He was hard but feeling Rhodey touch him anywhere would be good. He tried leaning back a little into Rhodey, who said, lower voiced, "Now I'll draw out the floor plan and location of the guards." He brushed a kiss against the side of his face, then pushed him flat again. Steve whined and squirmed a little as Rhodey's fingernails scratched down his back.

"Miles, hold him." Bucky put the water bottle down and held Steve's face, dipping in to kiss him, nearly distracting him from the floor plan Rhodey began sketching out on the hot, sensitive skin of his upper back with what felt like a knife. He forced himself to focus on the layout and not on Bucky's dilated pupils. He knew Bucky's dissociated face and his turned on face well by now and this was definitely the latter. Bucky was all the way here with him.

Looking beyond Bucky for a moment, he saw at the edge of the platform Tony with his back up against Sam; Sam had his hands down Tony’s pants and was jacking him slow while whispering in Tony’s ear, both their eyes hot on Steve’s face. He'd long since been hard, and paying attention to that wasn't helping.

Rhodey drew the building in precise lines of fire on his aching back, and Steve felt like the layout was etched into his mind as clearly as on paper, though sketching was rarely this arousing. Rhodey punctuated those strokes with sharp pinches that made Steve cry out and bury his face in Bucky's neck. "Guard towers in the northwest and southeast corners," he panted in a pained whisper. "Ohh!" His voice rose to a pained shout as Rhodey raked his nails down his back and pinched sharply again. "Grid patrol and security room in the center," he choked out.

Rhodey stopped and swept a hand down Steve’s back, as if to brush away the pain, while Bucky wiped his brow and ruffled his hair again. Steve sagged against the cross and reveled in the soft touches, breathing heavily. Everything felt distant and floaty.

“You’ve done so well, baby.” Rhodey murmured. “You took everything so beautifully. That’s all the info and the man in red’s gone so we’re all clear.” He paused. “Unless you want anything more.”

Steve managed to turn his head enough to catch Rhodey’s eye. He was done; he’d completed his mission objective. Rhodey was asking what Steve wanted, not what he had to take. “More,” he mumbled.

Rhodey stepped back out of Steve’s line of sight and even Bucky moved away. Steve felt momentarily adrift, bereft and then almost before he registered the familiar low powered whine of a repulsor, he felt electricity arc through his body. He jerked in the chains, nearly coming apart at the pain pleasure of it. Just as quickly as it had come, it was gone.

“You didn’t think we’d miss all the fun, did you?” Tony asked. Sam came around and stood beside Bucky.

“Having a good time?” he asked. He stepped up and kissed Steve sweetly, seemingly not minding that Steve couldn’t coordinate well enough to kiss properly.

“Green green green,” Steve mumbled when he drew back, and Tony wasted no time in zapping him again and again, always unpredictably in different spots that had him crying out, nothing in his mind but that static wash of sensation prickling over him. He was nearly out of his head with want, so he didn’t even tense when the zaps centered down his ass and up his inner thighs. Tony paused for an agonizing minute and Steve was reduced to begging “please please please,” broken only by unashamed sobbing. Tony aimed a final jolt at his balls, and Steve howled, coming untouched, and blanked out.


He didn’t remember being let out of the cuffs, and only vaguely tracked two people on either side of him moving him onto something large and soft and urging him to lay his head in someone’s lap. Someone lay down behind him and another spooned up in front. He felt something warm cover him, and hands--whose he didn’t know or care--stroking him all over--through his hair, on his sides, even softly and carefully along his back, sending aftershocks through him. He was content to drift, warm and swaddled. He stirred a little at a kiss to his forehead and let himself be coaxed up to drink some water, then lay back down. He saw that it was Sam in front of him with the water bottle, which made the hand stroking his side Rhodey and he recognized the fabric of Bucky’s cargo pants under his nose. Tony flashed him a thumbs up and a surprisingly sweet smile from Sam’s other side and whispered, “We’ve got your back. Go back down.” Steve felt entirely unworried and as content as he’d ever been. He didn’t have to worry. His guys had him. Mission accomplished.