"Would you look at this," Rumlow says. It’s hard not to look at this, when this is Hydra’s prized super soldier, strapped to an operation table, missing not only his metal arm, but all other limbs as well. Where his arms and legs used to be, golden rings of some kind are screwed into the respective flesh. The metal arm has been removed so only the shoulder part remains, leaving not even a stump behind.

Rollins stares. "I never knew you could take the arm off," he says eventually.

Rumlow laughs, hysterical. "That’s it, that’s what bothers you about this picture?"

Rollins ignores him, taking in the sight before them. "Why did they do it?" Then his eyes go wide. "Wait – not because he kicked you, right?"

Rumlow’s eyes glimmer dangerously for a second, but then he just snorts. "Nah, if anything that was the last straw. They’ve been toying with the idea for a while now. Four enhanced limbs are better than one, I guess." He traces the freshly healed, still very pink skin at the soldier’s hip where metal eats into flesh. The procedure seems very recent.

"When we need him functional, we attach them here. And we’ll no longer have the storage problem."

Rollins raises an eyebrow at him and Rumlow shrugs. "We’re done with the mission, we pop 'em right off again. No more super security cells, a trolley will do." He smiles. "Even if he goes wild again, what’s he gonna do? Throw a fit on the floor like a child at the supermarket?"

Rollins considers this, humming. Makes sense, but he still feels nauseous at the sight. He wonders what happened to the missing limbs, if they’re still around somewhere. He side-eyes the wide drawers lining the wall.

"Does he know?"

Rumlow grunts. "I doubt they told him. He’ll see when he wakes up."

"Jeez."

"Mmh, and I’m the babysitter. He’ll be out for another hour or so, but even the way he is now they won’t leave him unguarded. Feel free to keep me company."

"Yeah, think I’ll pass," Rollins says. "I got a 16 hour shift behind me and I still got some paperwork to do before I can turn in." He’s about to leave, when Rumlow asks. "Do you wanna see a trick?"

Rollins gives him that very, very tired look. "Make it quick."

Rumlow’s smile stretches so far he’s showing teeth, it looks irritatingly creepy, and only when there’s a low sound from the table’s head side Rollins jumps and looks down. Rumlow presses his thumb into the swollen ridge of flesh at the asset’s hip.

"What are you –" Rollins falls silent as as Rumlow digs his thumb in hard, and the asset moans.

"Look." Rumlow gestures towards the soldier’s groin, and sure enough there's something to see: the asset’s dick filling up underneath Rumlow’s ministrations.

Rollins stares. "What the actual fuck."

Rumlow chuckles. "If that ain’t the truth." Taking a closer look himself, he says: "Mag told me. They dosed him up with some pretty hardcore stuff to keep him down for the procedure. How’s that for a side effect?"

Rumlow grins, digging his nails into the freshly healed wound. Another slurred moan from above, obviously pained this time, and Rumlow presses down harder. By the time Rumlow’s made his way all around the golden insert, prodding and poking, the soldier’s skin has turned from pink to angry red, and his cock juts out in a similar color.

Rumlow looks smug. "Mag says when they clamped the leg ones in, he came."

"Jesus," Rollins huffs. All of this is sick, and the sight before him makes him nauseous; half a body, pale and flat but for that flushed dick flagging up obscenely. It’s disgusting. It’s all kinds of wrong.

"They should have cut that thing off, too," he murmurs.

"Hm." Rumlow looks at the asset’s dick thoughtfully, and eventually reaches out and gives it a squeeze. The soldier’s entire body (what’s left of it, Jesus fucking Christ) surges up to meet Rumlow’s touch, who withdraws immediately, laughing. "Kinda cruel, don’t you think? Now he’s got no more hands to take care of that."

Rollins shoots him an irritated look. "Not his biggest problem, I’d say."

Rumlow makes a sound of mocked sympathy. "Aw, come one. Right now it looks like a pretty big problem." He pats the soldier’s flank. "Don’t worry boy, I’m not gonna leave you hanging."

He nods at Rollins. "Hand me a glove, will you?" He gestures at the metal table near the asset’s head.

"Are you serious," Rollins asks. "Do you – no. Tell me you don’t actually wanna jerk off the Winter Soldier."

Rumlow smiles, darkly, and leans over the table to grab a glove from the box himself. He puts it on his left hand with relish. It doesn’t quite sit right, but Rumlow looks satisfied.

"Oh no," he replies, half to Rollins and half to the strapped body beneath him. "He’d like that, you know? He’d really like my hand on his dick right now." The soldier’s body shivers as Rumlow runs a gloved index finger down his erection so lightly they barely touch. Rumlow hums. And then he drops his finger lower. "But that’s not what he gets."

By now, Rollins can guess what’s about to happen, yet he stares transfixed as Rumlow’s gloved finger creeps between the asset’s butt cheeks. Rumlow goes slow, almost tenderly. Rollins can’t help but watch as his finger disappears inside the asset, who sucks in a breath. His dick twitches.

"Yeah," Rumlow coos. "That’s more like it." Rumlow looks up at Rollins, who shifts uncomfortably at the sight before him. "You know," Rumlow says, "I always suspected he’d like this. Even before." He laughs softly and turns his eyes back on the asset, rubbing its flank with his free hand. "Right, soldier? That’s why you act all mighty and scary, so nobody suspects all you really want is having your fag hole played with until you nut all over yourself."

He starts moving, slowly fingerfucking the asset. From the looks of it, it doesn’t go easy.

Rollins licks his dry lips. "Don’t you need something to slick that up?"

"Nah," Rumlow shakes his head. "He can take it. In fact, I think he appreciates the little extra sting. Don’t you, asset?"

As if prompted, he lines up a second finger. It doesn’t fit, until it does, until the asset’s hole just sucks it in. It sighs in discomfort. Its dick is leaking.

"There you go. Isn’t it nice to finally get what you always wanted? I hope you like it, because you can’t touch that ugly dick anymore and I’ll personally make sure nobody else is gonna do it, ever. The only reason we’ll let you keep it is so you can show us how much you love it up the ass."

He starts picking up the pace, pushing deep into the asset’s body. Rollins scrunches up his nose at the rising smell of rubber. The asset’s sighs get more intense and it looks as if he tries to jerk away. Its dick is rock hard, dangling up and down with the force of Rumlow’s punches.

"Get that thing out of my face," Rumlow growls in that tone that makes Rollins step forward and press the asset’s dick down without thinking twice.

"Look at those ugly balls," Rumlow says. "Look how full they are again, what a perf. Maybe we should’ve cut that junk off after all. Maybe one day we will."

With his free hand slaps the asset’s balls so hard the body on table twists in his restrains. The second slap is even louder, only drowned out be the raw sound out of the asset’s throat, and Rumlow bares his teeth and shoves his fingers in knuckles deep as he hauls off again.

The last punch has the asset squeal like he’s dying, and thick spurts of come spill through Rollins’ fingers.

He’s so surprised he yanks his hand away but Rumlow catches him, pushes it back on the asset’s cock, so they're both holding it in position as the asset makes a huge mess over his abdomen, all the way up to his chest.

"Oh yeah," Rumlow says lowly and Rollins shivers as he glances over at Rumlow’s eyes, hard and cold. When he lets go, Rollins quickly wipes out a handkerchief to clean his hand.

There’s a rustling sound as Rumlow takes off the glove, leaving its finger stuffed inside the asset, rest dangling out obscenely.

He straightens up and Rollins looks away quickly, trying not to acknowledge the prominent bulge in Rumlow's pants.

"Thanks for your help," Rumlow says. "You better take care of that paperwork now."

Rollins knows an order when he hears one. The asset’s wheezing in his ears, he walks off, even though he’d rather run, seeing Rumlow looming over that stripped body with a merciless expression on his face.

He draws the heavy door shut behind him to make it close faster, and he’s never been so happy in his life that the medical cabinets are soundproof.