The Big Bad Civil War Spoiler Thread a.k.a. The Extra Spoiled Trash

[kallanda_lee]

You asked for it. Here it is. Are you excited yet?

HERE BE SPOILERS. Enter at your own risk.

For those of you who have seen Civil War, or don't mind being spoiled: this is the spoiler prompt thread.

All spoilers here, any spoilery prompts on the other posts will be deleted.

All other new prompts still go to Round 3.

Rules from other rounds still apply.

Comments

Re: Touch-starved 9/9

[(Anonymous)]

Sorry this last bit took so long. First I was off visiting relatives, then I was sick. Also, upon re-reading I noticed that Bucky's left hand intermittently reappeared. In case it slipped past me again below, please just replace "metal hand" with "right hand" anywhere you see it. - Anyway, happy New Year everyone, thank you all so much for reading and commenting!!!, and please forgive me for starting the year on such a depressing note... *toddles off to look at fluff*

---

T'Challa woke to the sound of retching.

He floundered for a moment in hazy disorientation, wondering why there was someone in his bathroom, wrinkling his nose at the smell of the room - was that dope??? And … and sex? - before it all came crashing back into him.

Barnes.

He'd had sex with Barnes while the man was incapacitated by an apparent sex-slave trigger. He had raped Barnes. What was more, he realized with horrified disgust, in the end he hadn't remembered to make Barnes come. The man was probably still hard and trapped in his mind!

He felt sick. And disgusting. Following the emotion to his core, he realized he didn't just feel disgusted with himself for raping someone; he felt like a victim.

Which was stupid. Until the drugs, it had all been his own actions, he had been in control the entire time. And he had willingly allowed those drugs into his room, had been determined to go through with the sex even before them. He could have stopped and he hadn't. This was on him.

Then why did he feel dirty and used?

He angrily stopped that line of thought. He could deal with this later. For now, he had to ask himself: If he felt this bad, how was Barnes feeling? Surely he wasn't making those noises for fun.

Slowly, afraid of what he would find there, he made his way to the bathroom.

Barnes was kneeling, still naked, with his head bent over the toilet, gasping out bile from his empty stomach. From his position in the door frame, T'Challa could clearly see the line of cum trickling down his thigh.

For a moment, he wanted nothing more than to push Barnes aside to take his place in front of the toilet.

He hadn't even used a condom.

One of his hands reached out to the door jamb to steady him, holding on to the edge in a white-knuckled grip. "Barnes?" he asked quietly.

The man slowly sat up and turned toward him.

He was still hard.

"Oh no," T'Challa breathed. This couldn't be happening. He had done all this, sacrificed so much, and hurt Barnes so much, and for what?

This time, he couldn't quite control his body's response. Still, he didn't crash down onto the tiles as he wanted, but instead forcefully swallowed down the bile that rose at the thought he had raped Barnes for nothing.

"T'Challa," Barnes greeted him roughly.

T'Challa blinked. "You know me?"

"Yeah," Barnes said, vocal cords worn down by his stomach acid. "Trigger's worn off."

"Thank the goddess!" T'Challa said heart-felt. Relief crashed through him like a tidal wave. Then he frowned. "But... why are you still...?" He waved at Barnes's crotch.

Barnes looked down. "Oh, that? That's not connected to the end of the trigger. I remember now." His voice was dispassionate, just reciting facts, even while a shudder ran down his spine. "The compulsion always wears off after a few hours and I stop aching for touch. But the erection usually takes a bit longer to fade. Weird. But whatever." Another shudder, then he shrugged his shoulders, obviously trying to overplay it with a mask of false bravado.

T'Challa stood still as though struck by lightning.

The compulsion always wears off after a few hours.

The compulsion always wears off after a few hours.

None of this had been necessary. NONE OF IT! Not the wanking, not the shower, not the fellatio, not the intercourse. It had all been useless, it didn't take care of the erection, and the trigger wore off on its own anyway.

Fuck.

He slowly slid down the door jamb to the floor.

"T'Challa?" Barnes asked, scooting over to him uncertainly. "What's wrong?"

"It was all in vain," T'Challa moaned, "none of it needed to have happened!"

Barnes looked unsure of how to take that. "I... appreciate what you did for me," he said slowly.

"I raped you!" T'Challa roared. "How can you say you appreciate that?!"

Barnes shook his head as if to clear it. "That's not how I remember it."

T'Challa gave him a tight smile. "You had more of the drug than I did."

Barnes seemed unimpressed. "I know that. I also know that I convinced you to fuck me, not the other way around."

"You weren't competent to make that decision. I should have said no."

Barnes cocked his head. "Then why didn't you?" He asked neutrally.

T'Challa closed his eyes, head leant back against the cool tiles of the wall. "We thought you needed it to break the hold of the trigger."

"See?" Barnes said. "Reasonable medical decision." His eyes were still full of dark emotions despite his flippant tone.

T'Challa snorted inelegantly. "Right. That's one word for it. Another one is rape. Just because we thought it was necessary doesn't make it any less non-consensual."

Barnes seemed to get angry now. "Well fuck that legalese nonsense! It helped, alright? I wanted touch, you gave me touch. Friendly touch, even. You didn't even hurt me! And you didn't make me rape anyone else-"

He broke up abruptly, what little color there had been leaving his face.

"But I did."

His eyes were wide, his breath getting shorter. "I remember now. You promised to take care of the results of the trigger, otherwise you wouldn't have... You weren't even hard. There was... and you tensed when I started sucking you... You... You aren't bent at all, are you?"

T'Challa forced his face into a neutral mask. Barnes didn't need to deal with T'Challa's issues on top of his own. "It was fine."

"Oh god," Barnes moaned, "I raped you!"

"You did no such thing!" T'Challa fiercely denied. "I did this of my own free will."

"So I made you rape yourself, that makes it so much better," Barnes spat back, sarcasm dripping from his every word, before he covered his face with his hand. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck..."

T'Challa didn't know what to say. He wanted to soothe Barnes, to tell him he was wrong, to somehow make this better. But the words wouldn't come. Because in his heart of hearts, he felt that Barnes was right.

---

Two days later, Barnes found him on one of the balconies overlooking the jungle.

"Put me back," he said without ceremony.

T'Challa turned to look at him. Barnes looked thin, worn and pale. There were dark circles underneath his eyes that even the superserum hadn't managed to cure. Clearly he hadn't slept at all.

"I'm still not safe to be around," Barnes went on when T'Challa didn't speak. "And if there are any more triggers in my fucked-up head, I don't even want to know."

He looked so haunted. T'Challa's stomach cramped up painfully. He knew he was partially to blame for that.

"I can't risk hurting anyone else," Barnes continued. "You have to put me back into cryo."

Maybe T'Challa should have fought him. Maybe he should have reassured him that nothing like that was going to happen to him again, that they wouldn't let it. Maybe he should have told him about the night-shifts his team had put in since activating that horrible trigger and all the progress they had made.

But then Barnes said the one word T'Challa was sure the Winter Soldier had never said in seventy years of captivity.

"Put me back. Please."

Closing his eyes in pain, T'Challa slowly gave a nod.

Re: Touch-starved 9/9

[(Anonymous)]

Oh, ouch.

Re: Touch-starved 9/9

[(Anonymous)]

I know. Sorry. That's the way it wanted to be written.

Re: Touch-starved 9/9

[(Anonymous)]

SA, I'm not actually complaining.

Still ouch.