hydratrashmeme | Dumpster #2: ...'Cause a Hydra Trash Party don't stop

Dumpster #2: ...'Cause a Hydra Trash Party don't stop

Unholy hell-miracle achieved! Welcome to Bad Guys Do Bad Things To Your Faves 2: Electric Boogaloo. AKA the seamy sexual-violence-and-violent-sex underbelly of Captain America fandom, AKA the Hydra Trash Party kinkmeme. As usual, BLANKET NON-CON AND NSFW WARNINGS apply: just assume going in that everything in this landfill is unfit for human consumption.

Rules in brief: don't be a jerk except to fictional characters, warnings for particularly fucked-up garbage are nice but not required, thou shalt not judge the trashiness of thy neighbor's kinks unless thy neighbor is trying to pass off their rotting banana peels and half-eaten pizza crusts as a healthy romantic dinner for two, off-topic comments may be chucked out of the dumpster at management's discretion, management's discretion decrees that omegaverse, soulbond AUs, D/s-verse, non-superpowered AUs, and dark!good guys AUs are off-topic.

[Round 1] [Fill post] [Chatter post] [hydratrashmeme Pinboard archive (maintained by

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Round 2 is closed; comments and fills in existing threads are still welcome, but all new prompts go to Round 3.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

This comment is literally everything to me right now! THANK YOU.

One step forward for poor old Steve's Bucky and at least one or two back.

I love you, trash chat buddy. Steve's Bucky! Steve's Bucky! I just... My heart.

I LIKE THAT YOU LIKE IT! *flails*

Steve's sheer helplessness is the best part, he *thinks* he understands why Bucky needs to eat like crazy so he's trying to help him do that, and he's really confused when Bucky switches to nearly starving himself but he thinks he understands the compulsion to stay fighting-fit so he tries to help Bucky do that. And the more Steve tries to be helpful and supportive, the more he's just enabling the whole cycle! I bet sometimes Steve is even the one to set it off, like if Bucky's at the stage where he's eating like crazy, Steve makes some kind of comment about Bucky's appetite and it makes Bucky realize what he's been doing and after that he refuses to eat for like three days.

I actually recently wrote a bit if a continuation of this that has some caregiving Steve, sooooo... yeah. I might post it once I have reliable WiFi again.

Thanks for giving this a chance. :)

da

please do! godspeed to your wifi!

Bless you for this delicious terrible guilt-boner trash. Bless you for including Sam and Bruce so prominently. Many, many blessings.

For ease of reading, I wanted to point out that this is now up on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/4465532

So, a lot of exposition and not-porn has managed to make its way into this chapter. Hopefully Steve’s mindset is a little clearer, though both boys are still not exactly being safe and healthy.

****
Warnings for this chapter: At one point, Steve accidentally implies to Bucky that an erection equals desire. When his brain catches up to his mouth, he apologizes. Later, Steve ignores one of his own boundaries to continue sex that Bucky has initiated. A bit after that, he trips over one of Bucky’s boundaries, though he stops as soon as Bucky says no.

Also, at no point (yet!) do they have a proper conversation about boundaries or safewords.
****

And this is once more unbetaed, so all mistakes are my own.

Talking to Bucky was very distracting when he still had streaks of semen in his hair, and bits of it stuck in the stubble he refused to shave more than sporadically.

Steve and Bucky had ended up in the living room after Bucky pulled off Steve right when Steve warned him he was about to come. Bucky had outright refused to let Steve reciprocate, and had made only a cursory attempt to clean up his face. “They always gave me to the techs to clean up,” Bucky had said, swiping half-heartedly at his face with a towel. “You’re not a tech.” That had been the end of that conversation, but somehow Steve had managed to convince Bucky to sit with him afterwards, an old episode of Cutthroat Kitchen (one of Bucky’s favorites) playing in the background.

Bucky had tucked himself into the corner of the couch furthest from Steve. It had the effect of thoroughly dampening any residual arousal Steve felt, and he knew he had to talk to Bucky more than even before.

If only everything hadn’t become so much more complicated.

Steve stared at Bucky unsubtly, taking advantage of Bucky ignoring him. He wished that he didn’t find the sight of his own semen on Bucky so attractive. Bucky had always deserved a much better friend than Steve.

With the evidence of his own perversion still so obvious in front of him, Steve had to admit to himself that he’d always wanted Bucky in a way that he could never, ever tell anyone. It wasn’t that he didn’t know the idea of two guys together was possible. He and his ma had never lived in nice parts of Brooklyn, and he’d seen what went on in the shadier bars and back alleys of his home. But even there, there were rules.

If Steve had wanted Bucky to bend him over and treat him like a dame, it at least woulda made sense. Woulda still got him a beating from the nuns in school if they’d ever found out, but at least he’d have understood it. Instead, Steve had been born with an attitude about five sizes too big for his body, one that only grew (unlike the rest of him) when he’d hit puberty.

No matter how hard he tried to ignore thoughts of how pretty Bucky might look on his knees, looking up at Steve for once, they kept invading his dreams and his fantasies. As he grew older, he’d been horrified to find the fantasies growing darker and more perverted. The thought of Bucky’s strong arms tied behind him while he knelt, or all his pretty, muscular limbs spread out on the bed, each secured to a different post while Steve laid red lines down his back with his belt, Bucky begging him for release, spewing filth as easy as he’d started talking about the girls he’d begun to date, but all for Steve, all these images and more woke him gasping and wet in the middle of the night, infinitely ashamed of himself and feeling deliriously good at the same time.

It’d been quite a shock when he’d met Peggy. Now there was a dame who made him want to bend over and take whatever she was willing to give.

Course, Peggy was a standup gal. She never woulda tied Steve naked to her bed and flogged him till he screamed, or made him kneel at her feet and lick the mud from her regulation army boots. Never woulda wanted to watch him do the same to Bucky, either.

Peggy’d kill him, too, if she knew what happened tonight.

If she figured out how much the thought of her small, strong hands wrapped around his throat turned him on, she’d bring him back just to kill him again for being lewd.

Then again, Peggy Carter would use a bullet, not her bare hands. That thought was unsexy enough to bring him back to the matter at hand.

All of this was exactly why Steve had to talk to Bucky and figure out what the hell had happened in the kitchen. If Bucky tried to pull something like that on him again without any goddamn warning, he might just keel over and die, no matter how healthy his body was nowadays. Sam and Peggy wouldn’t be too impressed with that kinda behavior, either.

With that resolution, and a voice that sounded awfully like Sam in his head telling him to just get on with it, Steve cleared his throat.

Bucky kept his eyes fixed on the television. When Steve cleared his throat again, Bucky didn’t even twitch.

Finally, Steve spoke. “Bucky,” he said, “I know I’m not always the best at talking, but we have to talk about this.” He refrained from mentioned how often Sam nagged at him to talk about his feelings more, recalling the way Bucky had freaked out and punched him in the face the last time he mentioned talking to Sam.

“Why?” Bucky asked, still staring at his show.

“What do you mean, why?” Steve said, annoyed in spite of himself. The episode had ended, but neither of them made a move to stop the next one from playing when the Netflix countdown ended. “Because we need to talk.” It was admittedly not the most eloquent of arguments, a fact Bucky clearly picked up on.

“You keep saying you want to help me,” Bucky said, finally tilting his head enough to watch both Steve and the show at the same time. The flickering light from the television caught on a streak of white in his hair. It was very distracting. “So,” Bucky continued, “I showed you how you can help me.”

That response was entirely unhelpful, in Steve’s opinion. He raised his hands in a gesture of confusion. “You told me how HYDRA used to hurt you while blowing me in the middle of the kitchen,” Steve said, deadpan.

Bucky actually had the audacity to glare at him. Steve supposed he should be grateful for any emotion. He resolutely did not think about other things Bucky had recently been doing with his mouth.

“I guess I’m really stupid, because I’m not getting it,” Steve said, and Bucky’s face softened the smallest amount. For that reason, Steve’s next sentence came out as more of a plea than he’d meant. “Please help me out, here, Buck. I don’t know what you want.” He had a fair idea of what Bucky wanted, actually, but saying the words sounded impossible.

Luckily, Bucky appeared to have no such qualms. His voice was hard as he said, “You keep saying you want to prove that you care about me, so I’m giving you the chance to show me.” He had turned back to the television while he spoke, and his voice grew lower with each word. “I wanted them to fuck me, you know.” He reached up, drawing a finger through some of the dried come he’d failed to wipe off of his cheek. “I wanted them to touch me, to use me. I hated it because it was weak and stupid and disgusting, but I wanted it anyway. You want to talk about it, but talking’s not gonna help. Pierce loved to talk, too.”

Steve swallowed around a lump of rage. If only Pierce were alive, he’d happily shoot the asshole again. Bucky must have heard the grinding noise Steve’s teeth were making, because he finally looked over.

“Don’t be mad,” he said, “there’s no point being mad. Being mad doesn’t do anything. I just….”

Steve waited for Bucky to finish, but he seemed to have lost the thread of his words. “Just what?” Steve asked, prying his jaw apart with a great deal of effort so that he wasn’t growling through his teeth.

“I thought,” Bucky started, then stopped again. Steve waited. “I thought that maybe I’d believe you wanted to touch me if you could see exactly what they did and still touch me anyway,” Bucky said in a rush.

“Of course I want to touch you!”

The words burst from Steve without even consulting his brain. The thought that Bucky might think Steve didn’t want to touch him was so ridiculous that it took Steve’s brain a minute to process. In the meantime, his mouth jumped ahead.

“Bucky, I’m pretty sure I’ve never not wanted to touch you! Did you not notice how hard I was when you were blowing me? Cause you were pretty up close and personal with my dick so I woulda thought it would be obvious how much I wanted you, but maybe you managed to miss it.”

Bucky looked away again, snorting softly. His metal hand kept forming into a fist and relaxing, and his gaze went far away.

When Steve’s brain finally caught up to his mouth, he backtracked immediately. “Not that that means someone wanted it, I mean,” he said, cursing himself. Bucky definitely deserved a better friend than Steve. “I know you didn’t have a choice with what they did to you. It doesn’t matter how you reacted, that doesn’t make you – doesn’t make you dirty, or, or anything like that.”

Bucky glanced sidelong at him again. The play of light across his face from the silly cooking show he liked made half his face glow, and left the other half in shadow. The sight made Steve’s heart speed up and his breath come short with how beautiful Bucky was. No matter what he looked like, Bucky was always beautiful.

“You tried to stop me,” he muttered, looking at Steve with challenge in his eyes.

“Well, yes,” Steve said, trying to think about his words before saying them this time. “You did spring it on me outta nowhere. A little more warning would have been nice.”

Bucky contemplated those words. “So,” he said slowly, “if I gave you more warning you would want to touch me?”

“Yes,” Steve insisted, scooting closer to Bucky.

The reaction that got had Steve scooting right back again. “Ok,” Bucky said, and then he slid to all fours on the thick carpet (and Steve told the part of himself thinking that this was much better than earlier, because the carpet was less likely to bruise Bucky’s knees, that it could go fuck itself).

“That’s really not what I meant by a little more warning,” he said, instead of several other, far more inappropriate thoughts that had sprung to mind. “We really shouldn’t do this tonight,” he continued, leaning back against the couch arm and resolutely keeping his hands to himself. “It’s late, and we’re both tired, and we should probably go to bed. Maybe tomorrow we can continue this discussion.”

The way that Bucky collapsed in on himself almost made Steve relent. Even as he stood, he managed to look smaller than he had when kneeling on the floor at Steve’s feet. He shot Steve one of his blank looks and said, “Tomorrow?” Steve nodded.

Apparently that was all Bucky wanted if he wasn’t going to get sex, because he walked from the room after Steve’s nod. A minute later, Steve heard the familiar sound of Bucky’s door clicking closed.

Hopefully, things would make more sense tomorrow.

Hopefully, Steve would manage not to think with his dick tomorrow.

As he shut off the Netflix and walked to his own room, what Steve hoped for the most was the he wasn’t going to dream that night. He didn’t know if it would be worse to have nightmares about Bucky with HYDRA, or to have his old dreams intrude upon his new life and leave him breathless with desire for things no decent person ought to want from his best friend. Either one seemed likely enough, after the evening he’d just had.

In the end, Steve dreamed of HYDRA.

Steve woke up to soft golden sunlight spilling through his window, and Bucky in his bed. “What?” he asked, eloquently.

Bucky grinned at him, though the expression was more a show of teeth than one of happiness. “You said tomorrow,” he explained. “It’s tomorrow.”

Steve realized a few seconds later that Bucky was naked.

“Don’t you want to have breakfast first?” he asked.

He was finding it extremely difficult to think with a freshly showered, naked Bucky hovering over him.

“No,” Bucky said. “I want you to fuck me.”

And fuck if those words didn’t go right to Steve’s dick.

“I always went into cryo naked,” Bucky said, cutting off any attempt Steve was making at words of his own. “Sometimes when they pulled me out, they’d have a little fun before I was fully thawed out. Move my limbs wherever they wanted them, and I couldn’t do anything because I couldn’t move myself yet. I think it mighta been Rollins who started it. He and Rumlow used to make bets about what they could do to me.”

That statement just sent a burning rage through Steve. What he wouldn’t give to have both of those back-stabbing bastards where he could make them pay for what they’d done to Bucky. He sat up with a growl, and Bucky flopped down on the bed, right across where Steve’s upper body had been.

“Now it’s your turn to put me right where you want me,” Bucky said, refusing now to meet Steve’s eyes when Steve snapped around to look at him. “Though I’ll understand if you just want me to cover up and get out of your sight.”

Steve could hardly breathe. Bucky’s body, bound with hard muscle and covered in a patchwork of scars, was the most beautiful thing Steve had ever seen. He wanted to trace each one of those scars and promise Bucky that he would never hurt again. He wanted to sketch every line of Bucky’s body. He wanted to show Bucky exactly what he thought of the body laid out before him. If Bucky thought Steve was going to tell him he was gross and undesirable, then Bucky was very much mistaken.

“You sure you want me to do this?” Steve asked, adding for clarification, “You want me to do the – the things you’re telling me about?”

Bucky huffed out a breath. “Only if think you can stand to touch me,” he said.

That was hardly the enthusiastic yes that Sam would have probably told him to ask for, but Steve had a feeling it was the best he was going to get. He also had a feeling that if he turned Bucky down, Bucky would take it as eternal proof that Steve didn’t want him. As though Steve wasn’t so attracted to his best friend that the sight of Bucky naked and stretched across his bed made him feel like what little brains he had had gone on vacation to the other side of the world, taking his lungs with them.

Steve reached out a hand to gently caress Bucky’s leg, and Bucky pressed into the touch. “Come on Steve, you’re supposed to move me where you want me,” he said. A slightly more mischievous grin took over his face as he looked at a point over Steve’s shoulder. “Some of them really liked fucking me while I still had frost in my hair and ice in my eyelashes. I figured you’d never spring for sticking me in cryo for a bit, so I brought the ice with me.” He stretched out his left leg to poke at a large plastic mixing bowl with his toes, that Steve finally noticed sitting on his nightstand.

When he was able to tear his eyes away from the view that Bucky’s spread legs gave him, he saw that chips of ice filled the mixing bowl right to the brim.

Fucking ice.

Steve hated ice.

“They didn’t just stare at me, Steve,” Bucky said, pulling Steve’s attention back. Bucky was spread out diagonally across the rumpled cotton sheets, his head resting just below Steve’s pillow. His legs were still splayed open, giving Steve an unobstructed view of his half hard cock hanging between his legs.

Steve licked his lips. He reminded himself to be gentle.

He shifted Bucky’s right leg up slowly on the bed, admiring the way the muscles contracted and shifted beneath tan skin. The left leg moved just as easily, and Steve settled on his knees between Bucky’s spread thighs. Sam wouldn’t even need to kill him for this. The way his heart was nearly beating out his chest, sending all of his blood between his legs instead of to his brain, would do the job just fine.

“Close your eyes,” he said, a little bit disconcerted by the way Bucky wouldn’t quite meet his gaze. He knew he’d made the right choice when some of the tenseness he’d hardly registered in Bucky’s muscles melted away.

“I was so cold when I woke up that every touch felt like fire,” Bucky said, while Steve ran his fingers gently up and down Bucky’s thighs. He wanted to press, to mark Bucky as his, but Bucky was leading this show. “I could hardly feel any pressure, I was so cold, but I could feel their heat. They wouldn’t touch my dick, though. Said it was gross,” Bucky continued. Steve jerked his hand away from where it had been about to do just that, running it back down Bucky’s thigh instead.

“I’m not cold yet, Steve.” A hint of reproach laced the words. “They never let me lay around long enough to really get warm.”

Steve shuddered, his erection flagging as he looked over to the orange plastic mixing bowl. He wanted Bucky warm, but more than that he wanted Bucky happy. The complete lack of arousal he felt towards the ice almost made it easier. Fear was much less complicated than desire.

The first touch of ice against Steve’s fingers punched a shallow breath from his lungs.

It wasn’t safe, wasn’t ok, everything was ice and snow and wet and cold.

Steve shook off the flash of memory and plunged his hand fully into the bowl. He was doing this for Bucky, he reminded himself, grabbing a handful of ice and removing it.

He ran the ice filled hand through Bucky’s hair, then gently lay a chip of ice on each of Bucky’s closed eyelids. Bucky shivered at each touch. Steve shivered as well, feeling his erection flag even more at the site of Bucky with a halo of ice chips.

He’d be damned if he backed out on Bucky now, though.

He reached for another handful of ice without looking, and left a trail of it from the hollow of Bucky’s throat to the dip of his navel. Bucky arched off the bed, and Steve traced his collarbones with frozen fingertips. Both of them were still only half hard, but Bucky seemed to be enjoying himself, and Steve’s body was working its way back to full arousal with each twitch and moan from Bucky.

When Steve ran his cold hands down Bucky’s chest, Bucky’s breath hitched. “One of them, I can’t remember his name, liked to touch my nipples really gently,” Bucky whispered. “I’m very sensitive there, you see.” A wry twist of Bucky’s mouth preceded the next bit of information. “He liked to laugh about how hard they got, and how cold they were.” Steve ran the tips of his fingers over Bucky’s nipples. True to Bucky’s word, they hardened almost immediately at the feather-light touch. Steve ran his fingers over them again, a little bit harder. Heat pooled in his belly, and he tried it again.

A hiss escaped Bucky, before he continued talking. “Said if he wasn’t careful, they might just shatter, and then I’d have to live without ‘em. Woulda been such a shame, when I liked having ‘em touched so much.”

“Yeah?” Steve said, his own voice surprisingly hoarse. Bucky’s body was mesmerizing, the way it reacted to even Steve’s gentlest touches. His cock had taken interest in the proceedings again, and he didn’t stop to think before asking, “Can I pinch them?”

The reaction was immediate. Bucky’s eyes shot open at the same time he said, “No!” His breaths grew shallow with obvious fear, and Steve moved back so quickly he fell off the bed.

When he sat up on his knees to apologize, the words stuck in his throat. Bucky had squeezed his eyes back shut, and his flesh hand had a death grip on the sheets. A few moments later, the soft sound of, “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” penetrated the panicked ringing in his ears.

“Bucky,” he said, reaching out a hand and stopping just shy of Bucky’s left knee. “You ain’t got nothing to be sorry for,” he said, flinching when Bucky shook his head the tinniest fraction.

“It’s ok,” Bucky said, trying and very obviously failing to hit a carefree note. His eyes were still squeezed tightly shut. “Some of them liked to be rougher. I can change the script. You don’t gotta stop touching.”

“Bucky, look at me,” Steve began, but Bucky shook his head more emphatically this time.

“Don’t wanna,” he said, turning his head away from Steve’s voice as though to emphasize the words.

Steve swallowed down a few false starts. “Okay,” he finally said. “You don’t have to look at me if you don’t want to. But Bucky, if you say no, I’m gonna stop. I don’t care what those fucking HYDRA bastards did to you, I’m not going to keep going and just let you change the script if you don’t want to do something.”

Bucky stayed quiet for almost a minute. Steve spent the entire time trying to think of how he could get across to Bucky how much he meant every word he said.

Finally, Bucky squinted open one eye, tilting his head just enough to look at Steve through his still wet lashes.

“Pierce used to tell me I was being ungrateful if I said no,” Bucky said. The words were so quiet Steve wouldn’t have heard them if not for his serum enhanced hearing.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, making his voice as firm as possible as he met Bucky’s gaze and said, “First of all, I am not Pierce. Second of all, you got every right in the world to be as ungrateful as you want to that – that HYDRA scum. Because third of all, no one has any right to do something to you that you didn’t ask for.”

Both of Bucky’s eyes had crept open during Steve’s small speech, and Steve couldn’t decipher the look on his face. It made him uncomfortable, how many expressions Bucky had now that Steve couldn’t read at all. So, he kept talking.

“I think you’re ridiculously beautiful, and I’d happily spend the whole day proving how much I want to touch you, Bucky,” he said. “But I’m not going to do anything you don’t want. I’d never forgive myself if I hurt you.” He was ashamed of the way the last sentence trailed off. For all he knew, he’d already hurt Bucky as soon as he accepted that blowjob in his kitchen. For all he knew, this was some twisted punishment from God for the things he used to think about doing to Bucky, no matter how hard he tried to suppress those thoughts.

Bucky’s raspy voice brought him out of his self-flagellation. “Prove you want to touch me?” he asked.

Steve laid his hand on Bucky’s knee as gently as he would if Bucky were made of spun sugar and eggshells. “Can I just hold you for a while?” Steve asked. He was still hard as a rock with Bucky spread out naked for him, limbs still just as Steve had placed them and melted ice dripping down his sides. The thought of doing something about his erection at the moment, however, was almost enough to make it go away.

Bucky stared at him for another minute. His half closed eyes flicked between Steve’s hand on his knee and Steve’s face, and Steve did at least know his friend well enough to know that Bucky was making a decision.

Finally, Bucky rolled over, curling into a ball on one side of the bed. “Blackwell used to hold me sometimes,” he said into the pillow, closing his eyes again. “Used to tell me he’d keep me safe from the others if I begged real pretty for him to fuck me. He got his head blown off during a mission in Belarus. I never knew how to beg right, so he never actually fucked me. At least, not alone.” Steve silently told his erection that it could go fuck itself if it was going to insist on being interested in that story of all things.

One of Bucky’s eyes cracked open again when Steve didn’t move, and Bucky’s mouth turned down in a frown. “If you don’t want to hold me now, you don’t have to,” Bucky said.

“No,” Steve said, recognizing the challenge and clambering onto the bed. “I mean, yes. I do still want to hold you.” He did his best to banish the image of some HYDRA scumbag holding Bucky and whispering filth in his ear while pretending to be kind. Worked even harder to banish any thoughts about what sort of things he could whisper in Bucky’s ear from this position.

Instead, he wrapped his arms around Bucky and buried his nose in Bucky’s hair, and kept his mouth firmly shut.

Oh please, continue! I love this story. Best portrayal of broken Bucky I ever read. He is broken, but also strong and stubborn. God, I love this story.

Hey, so I'll be trying to continue this on round 3 because I still have a tot to go: http://hydratrashmeme.dreamwidth.org/1634.html?thread=2949218#cmt2949218

This chapter is my new best friend! Obvi as hot as fuck and can we talk about how Steve's attraction to Peggy is all wistful shame? "Wouldn't even wanna watch me lick Bucky's boots..." SO GREAT

+2000

Definitely definitely want to see what happens here.

Poor things... Trash resume is exactly what he is offering here

You are very welcome! It was a fic that demanded my tears and love. :D

I.... Yes. This is very true. I am trying to imagine him explaining this to Steve (probably as part of a, "Um, yeah, Sam is right, I'm not the type you save" argument), or Steve reading reports about this and trying to puzzle out what the fuck happened. Just... uuuuugh.

I would be all over either of these situations. Poor Steve, trying to pierce together what horror could have broken Bucky, and then later learning something from Bucky that was worse than what he'd feared. Or I'm imagining Bucky in a debrief situation, and they'd want to know all about the process by which he became the Winter Soldier. So there's Steve, behind the glass, kept from intervening as the debriefing agent draws out Bucky's tortured description of the events of this fic...

You asked earlier when Bucky was going to learn Captain America was dead. Yeah, probably later in the process when they can't use Cap against him anymore, and want to show him exactly how pointless this betrayal was.

It's good to know how much more misery is awaiting Bucky. This is one of those great Hydra-era fics that makes me sit back and think: how could he ever recover from this? How could he ever learn to like himself again? Lots of material to agonize over even now that it's finished!

(Sorry for the delay, real life has been rather busy the last week. Thanks for Trashchat for helping me work out where this is going)

Bucky's insides knotted with guilt. He was betraying Steve, he knew that. Steve would always prefer to take the punches than have someone else get hurt, but this was different. Bucky was made for this, used to it. Steve deserved better. If it was just pain, that would be one thing, but this was something worse and he couldn't let Steve get hurt.

"What the hell is going on?" That was Steve, and he sounded angry as he stepped into the room. Bucky fought down the urge to apologise. He couldn't back down. He swallowed, and broke the kiss, turning to look at Steve. This lack of respect was dangerous, but he couldn't avoid it.
"I know I'm only good for one thing. But I want to keep you safe Steve. I'm talking to Sam, explaining..." He hesitated, words failing him. How could he ever think he would be preferable to Steve. He shrugged. "That if he needs stress relief, maybe sometimes he could..."

"You want..." Steve asked slowly, then frowned and shook his head, walking over to Bucky and carefully moving him away from Sam. "Tell me what you think is going on. Honestly."

"I want to ...to reduce the workload on you. Give you more time to heal. You were so nice to me, and I know... I know Sam is in charge. I know you have to pay him for every nice thing I got, and we should...we should share that burden. I'd be good for him."

Sam was motionless, frowning. He opened his mouth to speak then closed it again in silence. Steve embraced Bucky tightly.
"You were protecting me?"
Bucky shook his head.
"I couldn't make him say yes. I wasn't going to be able to protect you, I'm sorry. But you could tell him...I mean, you know about Hydra, what they did. They trained me really well. You can tell him." His words became more frantic, pleading, begging. "Just let me keep you safe. Just some of the time. Please..." At the last word, a single teardrop ran down his face. He had failed. Steve's face was cold, stern, his lips pressed together with anger. He had failed, and he would go back to his room, with his bed and his window and his book, and Steve would go to Sam's room once more and pay.

"You... you think he's raping me?" Steve asked softly. Bucky hesitated.
"I listened. I don't hear you scream." Bucky murmured. "But I hear...I hear other things."

"I want those things." Steve said softly. Bucky could hear the lie in his voice, the embarrassment. Being forced to lie about wanting it was always bad. Maybe that was where he had gone wrong. Sam wanted humiliation, not pain. Sometimes, that was worse, but it meant Steve would recover quicker. He had judged this wrong, and it had been a dangerous mistake. It had made him fail.

"I love Sam." Steve continued, and that was another familiar lie. Smiling at whichever tech had control of him that week, telling the how much he needed him, how much he wanted him. It was hell. But that was what he could do. He could learn from his mistakes, and ensure that next time he offered himself, he did it right. "I promise...you think he's hurting me?"

"I know he is. I'm sorry. I wouldn't have been so greedy if I-"
"You weren't being greedy Bucky." Sam joined the conversation, his voice surprisingly kind. Bucky tried not to listen. "It's okay for you to want things."

"If I'd known you would have to pay." Bucky finished petulantly, staring down at his feet.
"I don't... I..." Steve heaved a sigh and tried again. "What can I do to convince you he's not hurting me?"

Bucky stayed silent. He felt for Steve. Always the martyr. He jumped as Sam cleared his throat.

"How about... how about you see us together Bucky? Not all of it, nothing... just us kissing. Just us cuddling up in bed together. You can see how we interact. That might help you not to worry. I would never hurt Steve. If that’d help prove it to you, I’m more than happy. If Steve agrees.”

Steve looked a little pink around the edges, but he didn't protest, so Bucky nodded. It would enable him to see that Steve was safe, and more than that he would be able to learn what it was Sam enjoyed. It was vital research, and if he wanted to take Steve's place, it was information that he truly could not afford to ignore.

Woops, I meant for Steve to be thinking about how Peggy wouldn't want him to lick her boots, and wouldn't even want to watch him make Bucky lick his. I have this headcannon that Steve wants to be dominated by women and wants to dom men. Or maybe I just think Peggy directing Steve in dominating Bucky would be stupidly hot.

Thanks for the review though! I love the term "wistful shame" to describe Steve's attraction to Peggy.

Yeah... I thought that was what you were going for but the wording was unclear. SO GOOD THOUGH.

VITAL ACCIDENTAL VOYEURISM

Heeeeeeeeeeere for itttttttttt!

<33333333333333333333333333333333333333333

I want to cry this is perfect and awful and I hate this and love this.

This is really really good.

Oh gods what if Bucky sees them together and can't keep thinking of it as Steve paying Sam, he just sees it as a relationship of equals, and that just shatters him and he can't COPE ... *bites nails*

Oh my goddddddd oh my goddddddd

Oh man, this is so deliciously cruel. I love the way Pierce manipulates Steve, convincing him that he ignored the safeword for his own good. So perfectly evil!

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Page 203 of 222

Dumpster #2: ...'Cause a Hydra Trash Party don't stop

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Now on AO3

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Re: Steve/Pierce, corporal punishment [FILL, Part 2]