hydratrashmeme | Dumpster #4: I Don't See How That's a Party

Dumpster #4: I Don't See How That's a Party

Okay, kids, you know the drill. Don't be a jerk except to fictional characters. Warn if you want, but read at your own risk, because

hydratrashmeme is about as far from a safe space as you can get. Garbage we like: noncon, whump, aftermath, violence, mind control, inappropriate uses of Bucky Barnes' metal arm, bad guys doing dirtybadwrong things to your faves. Garbage you should find a different trashcan for: a/b/o, D/s-verse, soulbonds, mundane AUs, OOC evil!good guys doing dirtybadwrong things to your faves, rotting leftovers dressed up as a romantic gourmet meal. Nothing wrong with 'em, but this isn't the crowd you should be pitching to if you're trying to sell Brock Rumlow as anything but a human dumpster fire.

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Zola proves himself a slippery little weasel. The SSR’s intel proves faultier than they’d like to admit. By October, Zola’s escaped the Howlies twice. There’s no scent of him for weeks.

The Howlies are on edge. Jim inventories, then re-inventories the medical supplies. Jacques does the same with his demolition equipment. Bucky’s rifle has never been cleaner.

They try something new that night. Steve lies on his back in his tent while Bucky goes down on him. Steve stays as quiet as he can, which is difficult, and as still as he can, which is even more difficult. He can feel Bucky’s arousal hard and hot against him. He loves it.

Bucky doesn’t panic until Steve reaches climax. Steve's too far gone to be of much help as Bucky pulls away wildly with a soft cry, shaking and spitting. There’s a mess all over Steve and his belongings. When he regains his faculties, Steve assures Bucky that he doesn’t mind, but Bucky doesn’t stay long after that.

It’s nearly Christmas before they try again. Unable to help with the fighting in Bastogne, the Howlies are reinvigorated with a new lead on Zola. They pack up and head for the center of Austria. During one of the long, cold nights of the trek, Bucky comes to Steve’s tent.

“I want this,” Bucky repeats his familiar refrain. “I want you.”

Steve believes him.

“Can we try- ” Steve hesitates, trying to figure out how to ask. “I had an idea, for how this could work.”

Bucky’s heart leaps, but he tells Steve to continue.

“Me on my back, and you lower yourself down on me. That way you’re completely in control.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything for a long moment, and Steve’s afraid he’s ruined it. That he’s pushed too far. He waits, hoping, for Bucky to respond. It was always Steve who started things, in his old body. In their old life. Now, he waits for Bucky.

“Well, what’re you waiting for?” Bucky asks eventually, sounding exasperated. “C’mon, let’s try it your way.”

Steve is relieved, and happy to oblige.

It’s too cold for them to take off more clothes than necessary. Bucky pulls his pants down to his thighs and sits on Steve’s face while Steve works him open with his tongue. Bucky makes soft noises of pleasure above him that drive Steve wild. Sometimes he worries about what’s going through Bucky’s mind when he touches him. What horrible memories Steve evokes that make Bucky freeze, panic, pull away. Not now. He won’t ever worry that those factory squids tried this. This is for Bucky. For Steve, too, but only so much as Bucky wants it.

“C’mon, please,” Bucky moans breathlessly. Steve hears him stroking himself. “Please, Stevie, let’s go.”

Steve retracts his tongue and Bucky lifts himself off Steve’s face. He sits on Steve’s chest while he unbuttons Steve’s fly and brings his straining cock into play. Steve stays on his back, as still as possible. He hands Bucky a condom without needing to be asked. Bucky’s particular about that, now. It’s beyond the fear of disease, since Bucky has no problem with Steve’s bare fingers or tongue. It’s something Steve doesn’t fully understand, but he doesn’t have to. It’s for Bucky.

Bucky rolls the condom onto Steve. He lifts himself up on his knees over Steve, and Steve hears the wet sound of Bucky’s fingers prepping himself with Vaseline. Steve’s cock throbs unbearably.

“Don’t move.”

Bucky’s warning is unnecessary. Steve’s learned by now.

“You’re in control, Buck.”

Bucky swings himself around so he’s facing Steve in the dark. Steve gasps when he feels Bucky’s hands on him, guiding him home. He gasps again when he feels tight warmth through the rubber sheathing him. Bucky lowers himself down on Steve, bringing Steve inside with one languid slide. It takes all of Steve’s restraint not to thrust. Not to put his hands on Bucky, though he so desperately wants to. He can hear Bucky’s heart hammering.

“You okay?”

“You’ll know if I’m not.”

Bucky’s tone is sharp with agitation, and Steve tries not to let that hurt. Bucky doesn’t move for a few minutes after positioning himself. Steve wants more, but he tries to quell that part of himself. If this is all Bucky will give him, so be it. This is more than he’d hoped for. It’s more than enough.

“You feel so good, Buck,” Steve attempts, balling his hands into fists so he doesn’t touch. “You’re so- ”

“Don’t.”

Steve doesn’t. He closes his mouth and waits for Bucky.

“Fuck,” Bucky growls with longing, mercifully starting to move. “God, I want you so bad, Steve.”

“You have me,” Steve says before he can stop himself. Bucky keeps riding Steve, so Steve figures it must be okay. “You’ll always have me.”

“You’re so beautiful, Stevie,” Bucky moves faster, up and down, knees flexing. “You’ve always been beautiful, and now you’re like a fucking god.”

Steve restrains himself from matching Bucky’s movements. He focuses on Bucky’s words. Everything he wants to hear. Everything he finally believes.

“I want this,” Bucky groans, pounding himself on Steve’s cock, one hand behind him on Steve’s thigh for balance, the other pumping his own cock. “This feels so fucking good, I want this so fucking bad!”

Steve doesn’t last long after that. He moans, long and high, and his hips stutter against his will, but he doesn’t put his hands on Bucky. Bucky rides him through, and if he’s afraid, he doesn’t show it. A few seconds after Steve begins to come down, he hears Bucky swear in rapture and feels his hot essence coating his face in bursts. Steve laughs, relieved. Proud. Content.

Until he hears Bucky fail to suppress a sob.

“Buck?” Steve asks helplessly, horrified. He props himself up on his elbows. “Bucky, what’s wrong?”

Bucky pulls himself off of Steve’s softening cock. He falls heavily to the side, hitting the vibranium shield. Steve winces in solidarity as he sits up.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Bucky snaps, voice muffled. “Everything’s fine.”

Steve longs to hold him. To wrap his arms around Bucky from behind and bury his face in the sweat of Bucky’s neck. He’s still covered in the proof of Bucky’s pleasure, drying pungent and sticky on his face and in his hair. He doesn’t want to wipe it away. Not yet.

“We did it,” Steve begins with tentative joy. “You did it.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything. Steve waits for him, listening to his heartbeat slow. Eventually, Bucky pulls his pants up and starts to leave.

“Wait. Please.”

“I can’t,” Bucky sounds tired and angry. “I love you, but I can’t.”

When he’s gone, Steve cleans himself up. He falls asleep clinging to the smell of Bucky lingering in his tent. He dreams of a warm summer night in a rundown apartment. He dreams of his small hands on Bucky’s face while he makes love to him.

There are no tears.

Christmas passes. The Howlies don’t make a big fuss about it. They’re narrowing in on Zola’s location. The SSR tells them Zola will be traveling to Switzerland soon, and the best time to intercept him will be while he’s in transit. They make camp near the base of Piz Buin in the Austrian Alps. They stay there for several days.

Bucky stands closer to Steve. He knocks shoulders with him in a show of good-humored posturing for the other men. Steve waits in vain for Bucky to come to his tent, or to invite Steve into his. He reminds himself how hard Bucky is trying. How, soon, they’ll have all the time in the world to try together.

They get the message on December 31st. Zola’s train will pass through the following morning. Steve and the Howlies talk strategy all day. According to Monty’s calculations, double-checked by Jim and Bucky, only three of them can zipline onto the train in time. Even then, it’ll be risky. Steve will lead, of course, but there’s a discussion about who will accompany him. It comes down to Bucky, Gabe, and Dum Dum. Then Gabe and Dum Dum. Gabe narrowly beats Dum Dum in an arm-wrestling contest and wins the third spot.

They celebrate the New Year that night. Jacques passes around his carefully guarded flask. Bucky hums “Auld Lang Syne” in Steve’s ear until Steve tells him to quit it. Dum Dum starts talking to Gabe again, and by midnight they’ve got their arms over each other’s shoulders, singing along with Bucky by the fire.

“There’s no way any of you are drunk enough for this,” Steve teases.

“Like you would know, Cap,” Bucky shoots back.

Monty and Jim join the song. Steve’s pretty sure they’ve forgotten some of the verses.

“We two have run about the hills and pulled the daisies fine- ”

Jacques offers his flask to Steve. Steve waves it away. There’s not much, no need to waste it on him. Jacques takes another swig and joins the song, looking expectantly at Steve.

“But seas between us broad have roared since long, long ago- ”

Steve joins the chorus with a smile. He watches his friends enjoy themselves. He watches Bucky beside him, his face illuminated in firelight. He’s grinning. It’s beautiful.

“For auld lang syne!”

Bucky comes to Steve’s tent later. He lets Steve hold him for a little while. Not nearly long enough, but they have to sleep. They have to be sharp for the mission ahead. Bucky kisses Steve goodbye and lets Steve squeeze his hand. It’s enough for now. It’s enough, because it has to be.

His body is big, and strong, and fast. It’s everything he’d ever wanted. The constant pain he’d felt from childhood is gone, and he never wanted to feel it again.

Except there’s a new pain now, and this pain is worse. So much worse. Steve wants to howl from it.

He wants his old pain back. He bargains with any deity that will listen. His old pain for this new one. His old body for this new one. Anything, everything, for the feeling of Bucky’s hand clutched securely in Steve’s and pulled into the safety of his arms.

There was only air in his hand. Cold, howling air that couldn’t deafen Bucky’s scream as he fell. Steve hates that every memory he has of Bucky will now be overshadowed by the echo of that scream.

This body is big, strong, and fast, but it’s wrong. It’s a lie. It’s not good enough. It wasn’t good enough to save Bucky. It wasn’t good enough to find what was left of him in the snowy river valley. It can’t even get drunk to numb him from this new pain.

Once they’d got Zola, the SSR extracted them by air to London. Phillips is interrogating the doctor. Hydra’s days are numbered. Steve sits in the bombed-out shell of the pub where Bucky foolishly promised to follow him. Back when Steve didn’t know or understand.

Goddammit, why can’t he get drunk?

Peggy saves him. His other friends don’t know what to do or say, but she does. She reminds him of his duty. He has an obligation. He has a purpose.

He can avenge.

Once, Steve didn’t want to kill anybody. Squids, Nazis, or any combination of the two. That’s changed. Hydra dimmed Bucky’s light. Then it took him away from Steve. It wants to do the same to the rest of the world. Steve’s going to burn it down and salt the ashes. All he’ll leave of Schmidt will be a red smear.

He doesn’t think about after. As far as he was concerned, after was Bucky. After was all the time in the world to be together. There is no after for him anymore.

He knows better than to think life could ever be fair, but the injustice of it all sucks the breath from his lungs like he’s back in his old body. Bucky had been trying so hard. He’d come so far. He’d loved Steve so much.

He’d screamed with so much fear as he fell to his death.

For that, Steve’s going to kill them all. He doesn't care if that's wrong.

*

When it’s over, Peggy tries to save him again. She tries, but Steve’s beyond saving.

She cries for him over the radio. He’s touched, and he regrets causing her pain. She doesn’t deserve this, any more than Bucky deserved anything that was inflicted on him. At least they can’t hurt him any further.

Steve’s not sure if there’s an afterlife. He thinks probably not, but if there is, he’ll be there soon. Bucky will slap him on the back of the head, call him an idiot, and then Steve will hold him and never let him go.

There’s light on the horizon, gleaming off the water and ice where Steve is guiding the plane to crash. It’s a different kind of light than the one that consumed Schmidt while Steve shielded his eyes. It’s a beautiful light sparkling in the blue. It looks familiar. It looks like home. It looks like all the time in the world.

There’s a faint smile on Steve’s lips as he closes his eyes and lets the darkness take him.

End

* * * * *

(A/N) I wanted to thank everyone who left a comment. I read over them many times. I'm sorry I broke your hearts (but also pleased with myself for it). If it's any consolation, I broke my own heart several times while writing this.

Thanks to everyone who stuck with my trash! I'm curious to know what you think of the ending.

This was absolutely beautiful, author!anon. Hot, sad, and beautiful. Good job. :3

This was such a lovely, sad story! Especially this:

At least they can’t hurt him any further.

T_T

[BEACHED WHALE NOISES]

You brought it right back around to the beginning beautifully, here.

I loved the line He can avenge. because that's what Steve does, and what he becomes, even though it'll be seventy-odd years before he formally gets the title of Avenger.

Steve crashing the plane into the ice was sad, but you showed how Steve was at peace with his decision. It was also a tiny bit hopeful, because Steve is thinking he's going to see Bucky again. We all know that he will, but not in the way Steve expects.

This has been an amazing read, from start to finish. Thank you so much for putting in the time and effort to write it.

It looks like all the time in the world.

This is just achingly beautiful and sad. Gorgeous, gorgeous work. I loved this story from start to (perfect) finish.

This was beautiful, thank you.

Ugh *cries* break my heart why don't you

That was so beautifully done. Thank you

The little new year's celebration was so sweet.

This line just broke my heart: Bucky kisses Steve goodbye and lets Steve squeeze his hand. Neither of them knows it's the last goodbye, yet.

I am so glad they had a little more time to heal! I thought for sure that they were on the verge of the actual capture and Bucky's presumed death at the end of the last chapter.

What a lovely chapter! And Bucky finally did it! He's far from completely healed, but he reached a major milestone!

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Dumpster #4: I Don't See How That's a Party

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