hydratrashmeme | Dumpster #5: We didn't start the trashfire

Dumpster #5: We didn't start the trashfire

Welcome to the latest, greatest, scummiest iteration of

hydratrashmeme. Come on in and please check your sense of shame at the door.

Rules in brief: Don't be a jerk except to fictional characters. Warn if you want, but read at your own risk, because this is emphatically not a safe space. Link your fills on the fill post. Unprompted fills: make a prompt or a header comment and reply to it with the full text. Continuations of fills from earlier rounds: just make sure you link in both places.

What's on-topic: Filthy and perverted twists on all the quality whump served up by Cap: Winter Soldier. Noncon, aftermath, uncomfortably sexualized violence, mind control, inappropriate uses of Bucky Barnes' metal arm, bad guys doing dirtybadwrong things to your faves.
What's off-topic: a/b/o, D/s-verse, soulbonds, mundane AUs, shippy/romanticized noncon, MCU heroes repurposed into OOC or edgydark delivery vehicles for your fave's suffering. If you've got a prompt for one of those burning a hole in your brain, head on over to

mcu_trash.

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The phone calls resumed. One key difference: the second time Bucky called, he told Steve to talk.

The words sounded a mixture of grudging and eager, but maybe that was wishful thinking. "I'm sorry Buck," he said, knowing it was so fucking inadequate. He didn’t look at Natasha, who was sitting with him.

He heard Bucky swallow and waited for him to speak. "All my programming tells me to not harm you, Steve."

Steve said nothing, what could he possibly say?

"But I've broken my programming before," Bucky continued, harsh now. "I shot you. Intentionally. Because I wanted to. Want to know how?"

Steve hesitated. While he would take more than a bullet, if it made Bucky feel better, there was a part of him that had never stopped reeling from the knowledge they could actually hurt each other in ways that were potentially unrecoverable. “Only if you want to tell me," he said, after a pause.

He caught the motion as Natasha nodded.

There was definitely something off about Bucky's laugh. "I'm not supposed to hurt HYDRA without orders."

When Bucky didn't immediately continue, Steve prompted: "I guessed that was why you were calling."

“You made it clear you’re not an operative of HYDRA," said Bucky, "But you’re still handler most of the time my head. Glad to eliminate traitors…" He trailed off, clearly confused and more than a little torn. “I've been making exceptions for you since you showed up."

He sounded so miserable about it, Steve just wanted to leap through the phone line and gather him up. Not only was that impossible, it was a bad idea. "I'd rather be your friend than your handler," Steve blurted and immediately went cold. He couldn’t even look at Natasha, unwilling to see the censure he knew would be there. That had been the verbal equivalent of trying to jump through the phone line and he didn't imagine it would be taken very well.

He was right.

Softly, Bucky told him, "I think it's gotta be too late for that.”

Steve bit his lip, squeezed his eyes shut, and shook his head. That was… No denying it. That was fair. It was more than he deserved that Bucky was even speaking to him.

Natasha squeezed his shoulder.

"So… Please? May I?"

"Yes," he said immediately. "You're a free agent, Buck. You can do wha–"

Bucky had ended the call.

“Steve.”

“Yes.”

“Why did you take out my trackers?”

Admittedly, Steve had wondered the same thing a few times since Bucky left. “Because you have a right to be free.”

Bucky scoffed. “That’s not how the world works.”

“It should be.”

“So you tried to make it the way you think it should be?”

Put that way, it actually sounded kinda terrible.

“You deserve to be free, Bucky.”

“You don’t want me to be free,” Bucky countered.

“Of course I-”

“You want me to be yours.”

Steve... couldn’t honestly say no to that. “I’d like to see you. I’d like to get to know you again. I want to help you. You’re no one’s possession,” he said carefully.

“You want me to belong to you,” insisted Bucky, and Steve couldn’t read his tone at all.

“I want to belong to you,” Steve confessed.

A sharp intake of breath, followed by a long silence. “Why?” Bucky whispered.

The line went dead before Steve could pull together a response.

When I said I wanted to see you, this wasn’t exactly what I meant.

Steve didn’t say it. It wasn’t completely true. He’d take contact however he could get it, even if that meant letting Bucky manhandle him away from the team while they explored the recently identified underground base Steve was now completely certain he recognised. Clearly, HYDRA hadn’t been willing to replace the bedframe they’d broken, or maybe the resident had decided to keep it as some sort of sick souvenir.

The sheets and pillow case were the same fucking colors.

“You know,” said Bucky, “I remember this bed bein’ a hell of a lot more comfortable.”

Breathing. All he could do was keep breathing. Comfortable was not the word- No. He had to breathe and not panic. We were drugged, he almost said, but he couldn't make a sound.

The hand not over his throat moved up from his stomach to his chest and then slowly back down. Up again.

“Steve?”

“Buh-” Steve choked.

The metal hand loosened. “Shit, sorry.”

“S’okay.” Whatever Bucky needed to do to feel safe was fine. Steve could take it. He coughed weakly.

Bucky looked stricken. “I should go. This was a mistake.” The hand on his chest was trembling slightly. The metal hand moved from Steve’s throat to his sternum.

“Please don’t.”

“I hurt you again. Not intentionally.”

“I deserve anything you want to do to me,” Steve said. His therapist might not think it was healthy, but really bothered Steve that no one would punish him. The military had refused to make his discharge dishonorable. He’d been removed from every list of SHIELDRA agents facing prosecution.

Bucky rolled off the mattress. It was a new mattress. Steve couldn’t smell either of them on it and they’d done a thorough job of ruining the old one.

“You need punishment?” Bucky seemed to read his mind. “You say you’re not a Winter Soldier.”

Steve swallowed. “I’m not, but yeah. I wish I could give more than apologies. I wouldn’t ask you to hurt me, Buck. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Next to the stacked mattress and box spring, Bucky shifted in clear agitation. “You keep saying that.”

“I mean it.”

When he tried to sit up, Bucky pushed him back down flat. “But that’s not how it works, Steve.”

“That doesn’t-”

They both froze as Steve’s earpiece came to life.

Tony Stark said, “Cap? You hearing me? We found the labs.”

Fuck. Steve closed his eyes for a moment and felt the rush of air as the door open and shut. Bucky wasn’t a threat to the Avengers. He had to let him go.

When he opened his eyes, he was alone.

The next time they met was in DC again. Steve had finally found a committee that wanted him to testify in person, even if it wasn’t against himself. It wasn’t like he was opposed to bringing others to justice. Reluctantly, he accepted the lawyers Tony had dropped on him. He wasn’t stupid.

Or maybe he was, because he refused to stay in a safehouse and instead got a room at the Hilton closest to Homeland Security Acquisition Institute.

Mentally and emotionally exhausted but physically restless, Steve considered going for a run. Eventually, he decided against it. He’d made enough people unhappy today. He went down to the lobby for directions to the workout room in the hotel but, when he got there, it didn’t take long to see that he’d break their equipment long before the exercise was of any benefit to him.

He went back to his room and did an hour of mindless calisthenics to a background of a British biologist searching for killer fish on the television.

When he eventually got in bed, he stared up at the rough texture of the ceiling for a long time before closing his eyes.

Sleep must have come to him because the next thing Steve was aware of was the warmth of another body near to his, not quite touching. Only supersoldiers were that warm without being sick. He turned his head, and Bucky was lying fully clothed on his back on the other side of the bed.

“How long you gonna be in DC?” Bucky whispered.

“A couple weeks, maybe,” Steve whispered back, drinking in the sight of him.

Bucky said nothing. The glow of the city through the curtain was enough to see his frown.

Tentatively, Steve asked, “That okay?”

Sighing heavily, Bucky said, “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah.” He couldn’t help smiling. That was pure Bucky, no Winter Soldier in sight.

They lay in silence for a while. It should have been awkward, and it was, a little, but it was comforting to know Bucky was there.

“Been thinkin’ about what you said,” said Bucky after a time.

Steve made a listening noise to invite him to continue.

“You said…” Bucky trailed off. “It’s stupid. Forget it.”

“Please, Buck,” said Steve.

A slow exhale. “You said you want to belong to me. That you deserve anything I want to do to you. And. Before, Steve. When I had you in Arizona. You said not like this.”

Heart suddenly racing, Steve nodded. “Yeah. I said all that.”

There was another long silence. Eventually, just when Steve had almost given up, Bucky said, “You’d let me touch you?”

That didn’t require a moment’s thought. “Yeah, Buck.” He hadn’t exactly stopped him last time.

“May I?”

“Yes,” Steve agreed, breathless.

Bucky inched over until their sides were pressed together and then propped himself up to put a hand over Steve’s heart. “Breathe, Stevie,” he whispered.

Steve woke from the best night of rest he had had in months and regretted it deeply. The only evidence Bucky had been there was the pile of crushed surveillance devices on the bedside table.

:D!

Aww this is so sweet.

(... Er, as much as it can be. Under the circumstances.)

(A!A) These two need SO much therapy.

Btw, a reader on Ao3 asked if there was a missing sex scene right before the end there. There is not. That would be so fucked up that I, after writing over 122k of other assorted awfulness, did not even consider it.

SA

oh yeah I see how you could read it that way in another fic but given the context here... no definitely not.

Yay for Bucky slowly getting his agency back again! This is so tender and sweet.

(A!A)

Yes, yay!

Bucky explained during his next call. “You brought most of those in with you and you didn’t sweep the place after you went out,” he said. His voice was both baffled and slightly critical. “I took three out of your jacket and one out of the clock radio.”

“I’m sorry, Buck,” Steve said. The words felt next to meaningless by now. He wasn’t even sure exactly what he was apologising for this time. Not checking his hotel room for bugs?

“Do better,” Bucky said, and there was as much fear and uncertainty in that order as there was anything else.

“Yes, Bucky,” Steve agreed. Evidence suggested Bucky wanted him alive. The least Steve could do was take care of himself a little better.

Later that week, when Bucky climbed heavily onto his bed smelling like leather, blood, sweat, and acrid smoke, Steve kept his eyes closed and simply inhaled.

“You’re awake,” said Bucky. He sounded like the asset.

“Pr’tty sure I’m dreamin’,” Steve mumbled, lips barely moving.

“So goddamn fucking stupid,” hissed Bucky, more like himself, except he was the asset was Bucky too and Steve was too bone-deep run-down to puzzle on it right then. “I could do anything to you right now. Anything.”

The bed was shaking a little. At first, Steve thought it was Bucky moving around, but it was too subtle and regular for that.

Bucky was shaking. Enough to affect the whole bed.

Steve opened his eyes and turned to look. “Buck?”

The Winter Soldier was curled up on the other side of the bed. He was wearing a full set of his old HYDRA gear, fully armed, black smeared around his wild blue eyes. There was dry blood misted and splattered all over him. “I don’t. I don’t. I. Another handler.”

But Bucky Barnes was curled in on himself, shaking and hugging his knees as close to his chest as what he was wearing would allow and that was all Steve could see. “Please, Stevie. I don’t wanna.”

Bucky flinched when Steve sat up. “You don’t gotta do anything you don’t want, Buck. I swear-”

“Almost took me back,” Bucky interrupted and Steve had to crush the impulse to grab hold of the shivering supersoldier. “Tried to gimme another handler. I don’t. I didn’ wan’it. Swear, Stevie. I’m still yours.”

“Bucky-”

“An’ an’, you said. You said. No one else is my handler now. No one gets t’ tell me who I am. I’m yours.”

Horrified, Steve wasn’t sure what part to try to tackle first since he couldn’t simply tackle Bucky himself. “You-”

“Steve. Please, Steve. Tell me. Tell me I remember right. I’m yours, Steve. Promised.”

“You’re my friend,” Steve said, inadequately. He reached out carefully, laying his arm out just short of Bucky’s knee. From the looks of it, those knees had been kneeling in blood at some point recently.

Bucky swallowed hard and shook his head. “I’m not.”

Before Steve’s pounding heart could plummet too far, Bucky continued: “Only. Not only. You don’t love me-”

Steve’s damned soul, if he still had one, lurched.

“-like that,” Bucky finished on a terrified whisper. He stared directly into Steve’s face, searching.

Breathe, Steve reminded himself. This wasn’t Bucky trying to seduce him because it was all he remembered or suggesting Steve make use of either of the asset’s functions. This was pure panic and demands for honest answers. He owed Bucky whatever he wanted and what he wanted right now was the awful truth.

“You remember right, Buck,” he said softly.

“Yeah?” Bucky’s breathed, terrified and hopeful, eyes locked on Steve.

“We’re more than friends,” Steve confirmed.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Bucky exhaled.

He surged across the bed, pressed Steve down into the mattress, and pressed their lips firmly together at an awkward angle that Steve was sure had to hurt both their noses.

Bucky.

Steve heard himself make a... noise and tried to bring his hands up to do… something.

Before Steve could fully process the kiss, Bucky rolled off him, evading the reflexive grasp quick as he’d ever moved, and was out the hotel window Steve hadn’t even known could open.

There were fewer crushed cameras and microphones left for him this time.

The Avengers weren’t out of the fight against HYDRA, even if Steve was taking a break. They weren’t looking for Bucky specifically, but Steve knew, before Tony told him, that there hadn’t been any evidence of the Winter Soldier more than a few states from where Steve remained in DC.

Natasha visited once, watching Steve closely as she investigated his hotel.

Steve didn’t so much as try to pretend Bucky hadn’t been there. He couldn’t. Not with Natasha.

How does he keep doing this? Is he drugging me? Is he just that quiet? I’m a supersoldier too, damnit. How do you keep doing this, Buck?

He might as well be a kid waiting up for Santa with all the luck he was having waiting up for Bucky. Natasha wasn’t going to be happy, but she wouldn’t be surprised either, given who they were talking about.

Steve didn’t bother sweeping the rooms he stayed in for more immediately deadly threats like bombs or assassins other than the Winter Soldier. Steve had no secrets other than those pertaining to Bucky and Bucky did a better job of it anyway.

Like Natasha could.

“Found it,” she announced, and withdrew a tiny white plastic ball from under the bed.

She brandished it at Steve. Steve had no idea what he might be looking at except that it didn’t look like any of the tiny cameras he’d seen before.

“Motion detector. Like a tiny pedometer.”

“That’s how he knows when I’m asleep?”

Natasha stared at him until it dawned on him what he’d admitted.

“Knows?”

“I’m not dead,” Steve pointed out.

Natasha appeared to be considering changing that.

It might not be what anyone else considered a reasonable answer, but it was true and that meant something. It meant a whole damn lot.

“Steve,” said Bucky.

“I love you,” Steve said immediately. It was the only greeting he wanted to give. His apologies were pointless and maybe what Bucky really wanted out of these calls was for Steve to say no and order him back. Steve wouldn’t do that. It might be his wishful thinking.

“How do I stop?” Bucky asked and for an awful wonderful moment Steve thought he was asking how to stop loving Steve. “I don’t… I’m a Winter Soldier. I only know two things. You stopped. How do I stop?”

God, I wish I knew.

Steve didn’t honestly know if he had stopped fighting.

“You know more than that now,” he said.

“Remembering and knowing aren’t the same thing, Steve,” Bucky argued. “How?”

There was probably something wrong with how much Steve liked it when Bucky argued with him, but that wasn’t something he could fully blame on HYDRA.

At least he’s admitting to memories and not lessons.

“I… ah.” Steve cleared his throat, struggling for the words, which was ironic given what he had to say. “It’s hard, Buck. It ain’t like it use’ta be. These days, it’s all about talking. That’s what’s... Normal now.”

The silence on the other end of the line grew long enough to worry him. If he hadn’t been able to pick up Bucky’s breathing, he’d have worried more.

“You…” Bucky’s voice trailed off like he’d spun his volume dial down. “You… Steve. You talk?”

“I didn’t say I was any good at it,” he retorted in instinctive response to Bucky’s disbelief.

There was a startled bark of laughter from the other end and then the dial tone.

Steve imagined the laugh had shocked Bucky as badly as it had him.

“What’s a man-purse?” Bucky asked, waking Steve from one of his last nights in DC.

Steve’s excuse for staying would expire at the end of the week. He would have to go back to New York and who knew if Bucky would follow. He’d escaped the tower once, but that didn’t mean they would be able to continue as they had been.

“A what?” he repeated blankly, turning his head. Bucky didn’t appear to be wearing a purse of any description. The blood-soaked combat gear had thankfully been replaced by a civilian jacket and jeans. The ball cap that completed the ensemble was currently on his bedside table upside down like a cup. It was holding Bucky’s latest sampling of modern surveillance equipment. He didn’t think that was what Bucky meant by man-purse. “No idea, sorry.”

“I met someone,” said Bucky.

Don’t panic. He doesn’t mean it like that and even if he does, it’s okay. Whatever Bucky wants. It’s okay. Don’t panic.

But it would break his heart and, god, Steve hated himself. “Yeah?”

“For talking. Like you said?”

Relief crashed over him. Steve was a fucking monster for worrying. “That’s great, Buck.”

“People talk. He helps people talk.”

Had Bucky somehow acquired a therapist in the five days since his last call?

“Does it help?”

Steve should call his own.

“Listening helps,” said Bucky. “And being listened to.”

“I’m glad,” said Steve. He meant that.

Bucky didn’t call.

Bucky didn’t visit.

Bucky didn’t call.

“Captain Rogers,” said JARVIS.

“Yes, JARVIS?” Steve said, hope rising. It had been two weeks since he’d last heard or seen Bucky. Any longer and Steve was going to have start paying Tony for all the punching bags he was going through.

“You have a-”

Bucky! “Put him through, please,” he said.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” JARVIS said.

“Why not?” asked Steve. He knew he sounded desperate. “It is him, right?”

“Because you do not have a call, Captain Rogers. You have a visitor.”

Tony Stark had definitely created that robot, AI, whatever JARVIS was.

Steve didn’t even care.

“My other friend says fake it ‘till you make it is a legit coping strategy,” was the first thing Bucky told him.

Steve hesitated just out of hugging range. “Bucky,” he said, trying not to choke up.

Bucky smiled at him. The expression didn’t look any more fragile than Steve remembered from the war. “C’mere, punk.”

It had been so damn long since Steve had been the one to touch.

“I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let HYDRA screw up my chance to have what I’ve wanted since we were teenagers,” said Bucky into his shoulder. “Fuck HYDRA. They can’t have us. Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers ‘till the end of the line, right, pal?”

“Yeah, Buck,” Steve said. “Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers ‘till the end of the line.”

*HOWLS IN JOY* THIS IS SO WONDERFUL I CAN'T BELIEVE WE GET ONE MORE AFTER THIS
IT'S LIKE FINDING OUT THERE'S MORE ICE CREAM TO BE HAD

(A!A) Thank you! It’s now part of a series on ao3 too.

“I’m tired,” Bucky breathed, slumping into Steve instead of pulling away from the hug. “Can we go upstairs and take it easy for a little?”

Nodding rapidly, Steve said, “Yeah, of course. Whatever you want, Buck.” The elevator arrived without comment from JARVIS. Steve was grateful not to have any reminders that they were under surveillance. The AI was an ally, not an enemy, but it still grated.

Steve offered to get Bucky something to eat or drink, but the other supersoldier was already dropping his duffle bag by the door of the bedroom Steve had been using. Without hesitation, Bucky started to pull off his long-sleeved shirt. “I missed layin’ down with you.” He studied Steve’s uncertain hovering. “We don’ have to get naked or do anything else.”

It still felt like they were teetering on the top of a very slippery slope, but Steve couldn’t say no when Bucky was not only asking but also apparently willing to compromise. It had to be a good sign that he wasn’t so focused on fucking or fighting anymore. Maybe it was all pretend, but it was pretend for both their sakes, wasn’t it? Bucky wasn’t just trying to please Steve anymore.

They both stripped down to boxers and lay down on the bed.

“Y’know what else I want?” Bucky asked, rolling onto his side and bringing himself almost close enough to touch. There hadn’t been a repeat of the kiss.

That kiss. Steve had mixed emotions about that kiss. Very mixed.

“You not to talk for a bit, maybe,” Bucky answered himself. “Just nod or shake your head. I’ll take care of you, okay?”

Steve blinked at him in the semi-darkness and barely dared to breathe.

“Can I touch you, Steve?”

Last time Bucky had asked, Steve had got himself all worked up over an innocent gesture. This time, he nodded.

Bucky scooted closer until his legs and hip were pressed along Steve’s side. Then a hand, Bucky’s left, oh fuck, slid over Steve’s pelvis to cup Steve’s rapidly growing bulge through his boxers.

"Jesus, Bucky," Steve groaned, all attempts to stay quiet forgotten at once. Nothing innocent about that touch. He’d barely touched himself since their last HYDRA mission together. Still, this wasn’t right. “Wait, I’m not…”

”Shhhh," Bucky breathed, pale eyes intent and searching. "Anything, Steve. That's what you said. Whatever I want. Whatever I need to feel safe."

Chill metal cupped and held him. It felt like every single muscle in his fucking souped-up body tensed and relaxed. Gasping at the sensation, Steve nodded jerkily and tried not to break eye contact. He had said that. Anything.

"I need this," said Bucky, voice thick. "No one lets a weapon do this. It was different, with the drugs, with you, but I never got to choose it before.” His hand flexed and Steve’s whole body jerked in response. “Maybe I woulda, Stevie. If it was you asking.” The way his accent faded in and out lent an additional layer of unreality to what was happening.

“Buck, wait,” Steve gasped.

“I know you, Steve. When was the last time you let yourself feel pleasure? You said you wanted to be mine. Let me have you. Let yourself have this. Have me.”

“Bucky,” Steve said unsteadily.

“C’mon, pal. You know what I’ve been doing the last while. Really so unbelievable I want to do this instead now?”

Steve opened his mouth to explain his hesitation.

“Shut the fuck up, Captain Rogers,” Bucky snarled. The hand withdrew.

Captain Rogers shut the fuck up. Steve had almost forgotten how wrong that title was in Bucky’s mouth.

“You listen to me. You said. You said we’re not only friends. You said that. And if you try any bullshit about us being brothers, I swear, hand to God, Stevie.” Bucky fell abruptly silent and his expression made Steve intensely uncomfortable. What was left of his erection subsided completely.

When Bucky did nothing but stare down at him, face set, Steve tried prompting, “Yeah?”

In a low growl, Bucky repeated, “No talking. You said it. M’not gonna let you take it back,” but some of the confidence had gone out of him.

Steve made himself relax under Bucky’s sharp eyes. It was an act of will and he let the struggle show on his face while he kept his body easy and pliant.

“I love you, you goddamn fucking moron,” Bucky said, but he didn’t sound angry, or pleading, or even fond. He sounded tired. He sounded heartbroken. He stared into Steve’s eyes, looking for… something.

Steve couldn’t take it. He closed his.

Bucky grabbed him by both shoulders and shook him until he opened them again. “You don’t get it. You’re… you’re my one good person. You get that, right?” he demanded, expression twisted wretchedly. “I’d say my one good thing, but you’re not a thing.”

Neither are you. Steve put his tongue between his teeth and bit down to the edge of pain.

“We made it to the future. We’re together. Do you understand that? How amazing that is? It’s not just the future. It’s a future where we can be together,” Bucky said, a hard metal pointer finger emphasizing each word by poking him in the sternum hard enough to bruise even a supersoldier. “I want you. I want to be with you. To hell with the rest. We’ll fucking figure it out, got me?” He punctuated the question with another poke of his finger that was more like a stab.

Steve did his best to suppress the flinch, certain Bucky would misinterpret any negative reaction.

Bucky stared down at him for a while longer and then carefully pushed himself back up and removed his weight from Steve’s legs and chest.

Steve didn’t try to sit up, just turned his head to look at Bucky resettling next to him.

Bucky closed his eyes for a long moment and then scowled somewhere in the vicinity of Steve’s hip. “Now you can talk.”

“Okay,” Steve said immediately.

Bucky’s head jerked up in an untrusting glower.

“You’re right,” Steve said. “I’m yours. You can be mine if you want to. We can…” He stared at his feet. “We can pursue any kind of relationship you want. I just don't want to jump into anything you might regret or… feel… differently about.... later.”

The glower, which had been softening, returned with double intensity.

Hastily, Steve promised, “It’s not up to me to decide what that means for you. I just want you to know…” He hesitated of the wording for a long moment. “I don’t think I’m going to feel comfortable initiating anything between us for a long time, if ever. So, ah. Ball’s in your court, Buck. You’re in charge now. Just… please, Bucky, let’s take it slowly. Don’t let me not be good to you.”

Glare softening again a little, Bucky eyed him pensively until he gave a little nod to himself and his eyes darted away. “What if I don’t want to be in charge?” His eyes flicked back to Steve’s face and then skittered away to somewhere on Steve’s chest. “What if I’m the asset?”

Please no. Steve mentally stomped on his first response and made himself take a few long slow shaky breaths before answering.

“Your asset,” Bucky clarified, unnecessarily.

Your asset and your Bucky. Steve remembered. “I love you,” he said. “You’re the most important person in my life. I want you to be safe and happy. If…” He had to stop and take another few breaths. “If that’s what you want… some of the time or all of the time, even-” He tried not to let his voice break and failed. “Can you promise me you won’t let me hurt you again?”

“I don’t need to promise that. You won’t.”

“But I already have. What if-”

Bucky interrupted: “I’m going to kiss you,” and forcefully cut off what Steve was going to say. “HYDRA and SHIELD made us hurt each other,” he argued, almost against Steve’s lips as they broke the kiss. “That wasn’t us. We didn’t have the choices we have now.”

“No, I mean, yes! I mean. You shouldn’t be the one comforting me,” Steve protested. “Not after what I-”

“So. Goddamn. Stupid,” Bucky sighed, peppering Steve with kisses between words. He kissed Steve on the lips again. “Punk.” Their foreheads rested together. “You need a goddamn keeper, I swear.”

Job’s all yours. Steve was startled by the watery laugh escaping his own throat. “Bucky, asset, whatever you want to be, sweetheart, I-”

“Good thing I’m remembering how to handle you,” Bucky said dryly and flashed Steve a grin that looked almost genuine, stunning him into silence. “My other friend.”

“The one from DC who listened?” Steve asked.

Bucky nodded. “He said there are different kinds and levels of intimacy, and if you’re scared…” There was a goading edge to the question as otherwise gentle as it was. “We can do some exploring before-”

“I’m terrified,” Steve blurted. On another occasion, he’d have risen to the challenge, but this was a different sort of challenge.

Flattening his upper body over Steve, Bucky nosed his cheek. It was the sort of gesture Steve associated with the asset, but it didn’t make his heart clench up in dread the way he’d expected.

“You think I’m not, pal?”

Neither of them said much of anything after that, though their cuddling brought them closer and closer.

Steve woke an unknown length of time later. He must have been sleeping with his mouth open because it felt gross and tacky. His eyes felt gritty. He went to lift his right arm to rub at them and when he couldn’t move, he looked down to find Bucky with both arms wrapped around it and a leg hooked over his waist, trapping him. Steve settled back and closed his eyes again.

“Hey,” said Bucky, quietly, not moving.

“I didn’t know you were awake,” Steve replied.

“I woke up when you did.”

Of course he had.

“Want to go back to sleep?” Steve asked.

There was another long period of quiet. Just when Steve was beginning to drift off again, Bucky said, “...No. We should eat.”

Steve opened his eyes and looked down to see Bucky eying Steve’s midsection. He’d continued to lose weight and Bucky knew and was clearly unhappy about it.

“Can we go out to get something?” Bucky asked, a tentative note to the question that Steve really didn’t like.

Does he think he’s trapped here? Should he be? Steve wasn’t about to check with anyone who might confirm their lack of freedom. “Sure. It’s New York. Something will be open.”

The elevator came when Steve asked, so he figured that was good enough.

They ended up with burgers and bar snacks. Deep fried battered vegetables, five flavors of chicken wings, and little squares of pepperoni pizza.

It felt so good to watch Bucky eat that Steve didn’t notice his own burger going cold until Bucky was holding up a lump of battered something in front of his nose. “Open up?”

Automatically, Steve opened his mouth and let Bucky pop the thing into his mouth. He bit down and the juice of the mushroom nearly burned his tongue. Steve wasn’t a huge fan, but Bucky had fed it to him. As he chewed and swallowed, he considered the hunger in Bucky’s avid gaze. All he’d have to do was suggest they pack up their food and go back to the tower. It would be easy.

But he wasn’t about to start anything. Not yet, if ever. He wouldn’t take advantage.

“You haven’t touched me once since I got back,” Bucky accused, pursuing Steve into the bathroom.

Fighting the urge to groan, Steve hid a scowl behind a facecloth. He was still benched from anything except HYDRA missions, which had tapered off considerably, but no one was stopping him from helping in a non-combat role. The last week had seen him hauling trees and bits of buildings in an Ohio town that had been hit with some sort of man-made cyclone grown out of control.

Bucky, whose legal status could best be described as optimistically pending, wasn’t cleared for anything yet.

“I did say I wasn’t gonna start anything, Buck,” he reminded him.

“Can I start something, then?” Bucky demanded. “Wait, no, I’m not asking permission to want you. Take your fuckin’ bath alone.” He turned on his heel and stalked out.

Steve blinked after him, not exactly sure what was going on. When Bucky didn’t come back, he went back to hunting for tweezers. He thought they’d removed most of the splinters on-site, but he kept finding new ones being pushed out. The bathtub filled slowly.

A washcloth took off the worst of the grime before he stepped into the hot water. It had been a few weeks now since Steve had started taking baths instead of showers and he had to admit it helped. He actually felt clean when he finished a bath.

Bucky refused to do anything except shower unless they shared. Steve was not prepared to do that yet. The tub was big, but it wasn’t quite big enough to comfortably fit two supersoldiers without encouraging more wet naked canoodling than felt safe.

Slowly, Steve relaxed into the steaming water and reached for his shampoo. It something Bruce had cooked up for him that smelled like honey and milk and potassium hydroxide lye, and not at all like the products SHIELDRA had provided.

“Steve!” Bucky shouted.

Steve was out of the water and leaving a wet trail to the bedroom before the timbre of the cry registered.

Naked, hands and hair covered in foam, and dripping rapidly chilling water everywhere, all Steve could do was gulp and stare.

“Like what you see?” Bucky smirked at him, stretching his arms above his head so Steve had a clear view of the pearlescent strands and smears of come across his chest. His eyes went to Steve’s crotch, dilating even more than before. “Yeah, you do.”

Stiffly, Steve turned and fled.

Steve was in the middle of an intense workout when he became aware of Bucky’s presence near the elevator door. They were the only ones in the gym. Twenty-three days since Bucky had had any sort of violent episode, but the others were very careful about unexpected run-ins.

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky swore, focus glued to the sweat running down Steve’s neck and back. He licked his lips. “Mind if I go jerk off?”

Heat bloomed under Steve’s skin. He was certain his face was bright pink. How long had Bucky been watching him? “You, ah, yeah, go ahead.” He bit back the impulse to tell Bucky he didn’t need to ask. Buck would only look disappointed and tell him he was beating a dead horse. This was their compromise. “Anything I can do for you?” He wasn’t exactly unaffected by the knowledge Bucky was going to touch himself.

Bucky smiled. “Nothing you weren’t doin’ before. “

It was hard to go back to his workout when he had to keep adjusting himself in reaction to the faint sound and scent of Bucky’s pleasure.

Good stuff!!

Thanks!

“Shut the fuck up, Captain Rogers,” Bucky snarled. [. . .]
Captain Rogers shut the fuck up.
lmaoooooooooooooo

I can't believe this epic thing is almost finished! Once again I am absolutely DELIGHTED with how far you've followed the aftermath of Insight.

(A!A) I won’t even know what to do with myself when I’m done. (Lies. I made it a series.)

AYART
*breathless squealing noises*

“The CIA wants to send an agent to talk to the Winter Soldier,” Natasha told him. “To corroborate some of what they’re getting from other surviving agents in custody.”

She met Steve’s eyes levelly as he tried not to grind his teeth.

“He’s not,” he started to protest. Bucky’s not a prisoner. If anyone should be arrested… He cut the thought off as well as he could. He was trying to be more positive and he didn’t want to put more tally marks on his therapy homework.

“The perception that he is keeps him safe here,” Natasha reminded him. “You know how limited our options are since agents started talking about him.”

Exhaling, Steve deflated a little. It was true and he did know.

“Without you,” she added. “You influence him just by being present.”

Which made sense, considering the circumstances, but didn’t mean he was happy about it. Bucky was affected by Steve’s absence too. “I’ll let Bucky know,” said Steve.

Bucky and Nat were not safe to leave together. To put it very mildly, her presence confused and agitated him. Apparently, neither of them knew exactly what history they had together, but whatever it was wasn’t good. Since Bucky had come in to the Tower, they had met twice and both times had ended with some level of violence.

“I’ll ask Clint to be there,” she promised.

So far, Bucky had warmed to Clint more than any of the other Avengers. He was really the only option.

Bucky’s reaction to the news was a tired sigh and deepening furrow in his forehead. “Most of what I remember isn’t coherent or detailed, Steve.”

Steve knew that, but it still hurt to hear. “But you know things,” he said. “And you know more when you’re prompted.”

Bucky closed his eyes and leaned his weight into Steve’s side. “Yeah. You remember how I work.”

“You’re not a machine. You’re a real person.”

Chuckling weakly, Bucky pressed his chin against Steve’s shoulder. He said, “Easier if I was.”

Steve shook his head, afraid of how Bucky meant that and even more afraid to ask, and turned to put his arms around him.

Much too soon, there were debriefings, assessments, and arguments. Once or twice, Steve genuinely considered petitioning Asgard for asylum. Some of the attempts to debrief Bucky turned out to be outright interrogations Clint had to put a stop to or have JARVIS call Steve to put a stop to and Bucky’s current reality was still… fragile, particularly when he was tired or stressed, which was often. When he shut down, Steve knew it was exhaustion, confusion and fear, but to an interrogator it too often looked like hostility or resistance.

Steve would send Bucky off with whatever gesture of affection he could accept with an audience and hope he’d come back without retreating into being the asset.

They weren’t missions. This wasn’t HYDRA. Steve meant it when he said Bucky was in charge now, but as long as everything was as precarious as it was, Steve had to protect him.

And however frustrated Bucky was, so far as touching each other went, they didn’t go much past first base.

“Eat this,” Bucky demanded.

Steve looked up from the old reports on his tablet and nearly took a sandwich to the nose. “What?” He pulled back and swiped at a drop of what turned out to be mustard.

“Eat this,” Bucky repeated, even less patiently, standing over him.

“Bu-ghuh!” The moment his mouth was open far enough, Bucky took advantage.

“No excuses now, Rogers. This isn’t the Depression. Take a break and eat your fucking lunch.”

In addition to the mustard, the sandwich was beef and cheese with lettuce and tomato. Steve tried not to choke on it.

“So,” said Bucky, falsely conversational. “I can’t help noticing I’m a lot better at taking what you put in my mouth than you are at taking what I try to put in yours.”

“Not helping,” Steve told him, hoarsely, as soon as he could speak.

Both of Bucky’s eyebrows went up. “We could work on that.”

“How about I finish the sandwich?” was Steve’s weak counter-offer. He fought the urge to squirm under Bucky’s looming shadow.

“That’s a start,” Bucky allowed, and retreated. “I’ll bring you another one. What do you want to drink?”

It took a Steve a few seconds to realize the tablet had gone with him.

“I’m going to touch you,” Bucky announced the next time they were naked together touching themselves. He had already come, no prompting or permission required.

Steve was too close to immediately think to protest (he didn’t want to protest) and Bucky’s hand ran down his chest to rest over Steve’s own hand on his leaking dick. There was no direct contact. Possibility alone was enough to push Steve over the edge and that was it. Bucky was a warm weight relaxed against his side, slightly damp and impossibly perfect.

Okay, thought Steve. He repeated it aloud as soon as his breathing slowed. “Okay. We can do this. That was okay.”

“It’s easier once you get the touching boundary out of the way, I think,” said Bucky, languid and pleased.

Wait. What?

The afterglow of orgasm collided with reality like the words were artillery shredding a parachute. Steve twisted for the bedside wastebasket. Don’t think about it!

Rumlow and the Lockbox and first time he’d touched Bucky like that and how many times had Bucky heard that exact phrase that-

Too late.

Even after Steve assured him that it had been the words and not the touch that set it off, Bucky wouldn’t try again for weeks.

“I’m gonna say stuff like that, sometimes,” said Bucky. “All that stuff the Commander said about horses? Basically verbatim from the user manual the Russians put together. They never let me read the thing, of course, and the book’s gone now, but I heard enough of it I could probably write my own copy.”

Steve shot him a look from across the too-large bed. By now, he was fairly sure Bucky didn’t want to be the asset the way HYDRA had made the asset be, but there were moments he wasn’t sure Bucky remembered that.

“I won’t,” Bucky promised. “I’m not interested in another handler and you know the important stuff. Anyway, they tried. I’m here.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened in Ohio?” Steve asked hesitantly. He remember Bucky coming to him incoherent, shaking, and covered in blood. He knew it had been a close call, but the clean up had been especially thorough and the Avengers hadn’t ever had the complete story. If Bucky had shared more information in any of his interviews, they hadn’t shared the resulting intel with the Avengers.

“No,” said Bucky. “Unless the imagining is keeping you up.”

“The only thing keeping me up is your jabbering, jerk,” Steve told him automatically. “Wait, no. I kinda do want to know, but I mostly want to know how sure you are no one has this manual anymore.”

The sheet rustled as Bucky turned on his side to face away from Steve. “Very,” he said. The word came out dark and hard.

“Good,” said Steve. He ached to reach out, but Bucky’s intentional distance preventing him from even trying.

Steve was going crazy. There was no other explanation. He had lost what was left of his mind.

The thing was, Bucky wouldn’t touch him unless they were sleeping. He wouldn’t even touch Steve while they were going to sleep. Worse, the more tightly wound they both were, the more nightmares they had. Bucky had had more violent episodes in the past week than in the previous six weeks all put together.

Starvation was a good word for it.

Steve felt like scum all over again because if this was how he felt after two and half weeks, Bucky had clearly been the exercising all of the asset’s superhuman restraint not to simply jump him and demand physical intimacy. While Steve often felt raw immediately after therapy, he didn’t usually burst into tears at a gentle touch to his shoulder. Clint had looked almost comically taken-aback and pushed him at Natasha for an embarrassingly long hug.

Nat hadn’t appeared too comfortable either.

Steve had to do something. This wasn’t a situation he could solve with punching. How could he convince Bucky that he really meant it when he said he was ready to let Bucky do what he wanted? What they both wanted?

“Holy shit, Rogers!“ Tony Stark blurted upon seeing him.

“Didn’t JARVIS tell you I was here?“ Steve crouched to pick up the clipboard Tony had dropped when Steve had apparently startled him. “I thought you were expecting me.“

Tony’s frown was incredulous. “I wasn’t. That’s not.” He pulled off the protective glasses he had been wearing and squinted at Steve’s bruised neck and bloodshot eyes. “Have you, oh, looked in the mirror today, Cap?”

Steve sighed. “Yeah, but I swear that has nothing to do with why I’m here.”

“Really,” said Tony. “You think maybe it should? I’d offer you an armor to stand guard or something, but that didn’t turn out great for me and Pep. Then again, your boyfriend clearly is a danger to your physical health, so-”

Interrupting, Steve pulled the set of STRIKE-issue magnetic cuffs out of his shield bag and said, “I was hoping you could either improve these or do something to make them a little less… SHIELDRA?” He didn’t have the energy to worry about whether he should be upset by the label Tony had given Bucky.

The question itself appeared to insult Tony. “Can I? Did you seriously just ask me that? Can I?” He took the cuffs. “Tell me you’re planning to use them for your safety. I don’t want to make it easier for him to beat you up.”

“He’s not beating me up,” Steve insisted tiredly. “He woke me up and I triggered him because I forgot...” when we were, what we were, “...to be careful.”

Tony Stark scoffed. “So, he is beating you up, but it isn’t his fault.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Capsicle.”

He started to rub at his face and immediately thought better of it. “Will you do it? Ideally, I’d like them to be relatively comfortable for several hours.” There was no fighting the rising flush. “Ah, comfortable to lie on, too. Not just to wear.”

Tony’s expression softened. “Yeah. Sure. I can do that.”

It was obvious, as soon as he stepped onto the floor and saw Bucky’s face, that the Winter Soldier had found a way to listen in on his conversations again.

“Buck…”

“I know they aren’t for me,” said Bucky, but he didn’t look like he knew.

“They’re not!”

“But. Are they for the asset?”

“No!” Steve only realized he hadn’t said it loudly enough or that Bucky was lost in a memory, when Bucky continued to talk.

“The girls were cuffed to the beds at night. To help them remember, not to stop them escaping.” He was smiling slightly, but it was wrong. “No one ever-”

“Jesus, Bucky, no. No, I’m not cuffing you to the bed. The cuffs are to use on me.”

Bucky stopped and Steve realized what had been so off before. Bucky hadn’t really been looking at him.

He was looking now.

“We’re not cuffing you to the bed,” he announced, focused and intense. “It’s not safe. I’m not safe. You gotta fight back better next time. You can’t count on confusing me.”

This was not a conversation Steve was interested in having for the umpteenth time. “No one is getting cuffed to the bed,” he said, and immediately knew he was turning pink.

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Punk?”

Well, that’s done it. “...Unless you’re into that?”

The expression dropped off Bucky’s face. “What,” he said, affectless.

Steve winced and fumbled for the words he needed. “Into me, I mean. In them. For you. So, they are for you, but not to use, except, fuck, I mean, to use on me. I-“

Still without discernible emotion, Bucky said, “I’m always into you, Stevie.” He turned away and walked into the bathroom without giving any more clues to what he was thinking or feeling.

Shit.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said aloud. Bucky would hear him, but he could pretend he hadn’t. “I could have thought this out better. I’m more comfortable with letting you do what you want if I know I can’t do anything you don’t want. That’s all. We don’t have to use them. Hell, Tony hasn’t even had a chance to do anything with them yet.”

The silence was long enough that Steve gave up on a response. There was no sound of Bucky doing anything in the bathroom, though, so Steve kept an ear out while he went about the first task that occurred to him and began to set out ingredients for sandwiches. Hot sandwiches. This wasn’t cooking, just assembling. The sandwich press had to be Steve’s favorite small kitchen appliance. Tony Stark had tried to tell him about maybe a dozen other things it could do, including burgers, bagels and small pizzas, but Steve and Bucky were mostly interested in hot sandwiches.

Lettuce was waste of space for them anyway. There weren’t very many calories in lettuce. If they wanted lettuce, they could put it in a salad and get junk calories from the dressing.

Had he heard a noise? No.

Salad. Half a dozen sandwiches was enough. He could make salad. They had some other vegetables. He could add sliced apples and maybe heat up some strips of steak. In the back of the fridge, they still had a most of a block of weird artisan farmer’s cheese made from raw milk with peppercorns. It was probably one of Tony’s attempts to broaden his horizons. It was fine in small quantities.

Apples. He would slice the apples first and they could eat them even without a whole salad.

“He’s had them twenty-two minutes,” said Bucky said from behind him. His voice was quiet but not so horribly flat now. “He is a genius.”

Steve put down the knife in a smooth motion that almost certainly did nothing to hide the fact that he had almost changed his grip on it. “Okay.”

“I don’t want us to be afraid of each other.”

Bucky had definitely noticed.

“Sorry. Stupid reflexes.” Steve tried to relax his neck and shoulders. It didn’t work so well.

“My friend in DC says it’s hard for people to make well-considered decisions when they’re afraid.”

Someday, Steve was going to find out exactly who Bucky’s friend was and thank him. Some of what Bucky repeated made him want to punch the guy, but that wasn’t an usual desire for Steve, so he couldn’t weigh it too heavily against all the good. Bucky didn’t respond nearly as positively to any professionals he had met in the Tower.

“I’m not afraid of you, Bucky. I’m afraid of me.”

“That’s stupid,” said Bucky. He picked up a sandwich and stalked to the corner of the entertainment area to eat it.

(A!A) I am aware it has been much longer than usual since my last post. I'm still here. I'm still alive. I'm still working on the last part of the last chapter.

(A!A) omg that was meant to be "unusual" not "usual" desire.

Everything is painful and beautiful. I'll just go cry myself to sleep over this masterwork of a mess. It's all good.

Re: Fill 110b/110: Undeniable Plausibility - On to the aftermath!

(Anonymous) - 2018-10-26 19:05 (UTC) - Expand

Unsure of Bucky’s actual stance on the matter, Steve didn’t ask Tony about the cuffs until four days later when he learned Tony had made completely new ones. Two pairs, in fact.

The new magnetic cuffs were definitely not of SHIELD or HYDRA origin. Steve didn't think he wanted to know the thought process behind the result, but he felt it was safe to say no one would be confused about where the cuffs had come from.

They were wider with less potential to bite into skin. The first set was bright blue with little cartoon rainbows and multicolored smiley faces. The interior of the new cuffs was lined with tan suede or something very like it. The outside gave slightly to the touch but was another material and clearly meant to be water-resistant. The second was striped in pink, purple, and blue. The lining was the same purple as the exterior stripes.

"I'd like to be clear," Tony stressed, "that these do not constitute fuzzy handcuffs." He paused. "Or furry ones."

Steve did his best to look confused, but he could feel the blush rising. “Th-anks?” Just to add to his embarrassment, his voice cracked on the word.

Tony Stark gave him a knowing look. “There are a handful of ways to open them. Saying red,” the cuffs opened with with a muffled chh-clunk, “is one of them, but feel free to pick another safeword or multiple safewords. Tell JARVIS what you want.”

“Oh my god, Tony.” If spontaneous combustion was real, now would be a great time.

“I think you mean thank you, Tony.” He smirked. “Sleep, fuck, whatever. These things are safe and comfortable. The sane and consensual parts are up to you two.”

Steve sighed and covered his eyes. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I want to hang you up like in Arizona,” said Bucky, like it was a perfectly normal thing to say over lunch. “The anchors for the bags should be able to take your weight.” They’d installed a pair of heavy bags in the spare bedroom, despite the concerns of nearly everyone Steve knew in the tower that he might become a recluse again without a reason to go to the gym.

They needn’t have worried. Bucky had taken vengefully to his old role of making Steve socialize, even if that now made Bucky himself a terrible hypocrite.

“Okay,” Steve said.

“You’re not even gonna ask what for?” Bucky looked more than a little disgruntled.

Steve shrugged and smiled a bit sheepishly. “Not much you could do that I’d say no to, Buck.”

Bucky’s frown deepened. “Yeah, see, if I said that, you’d worry.”

I’m not the one who was brainwashed and tortured. Not for decades.

“I’ll stop you if I don’t like it.” He still wasn’t fully convinced Bucky would do the same, but that was why Bucky had to be the one in control.

“So, if I wanted you to replace the bag?”

Buying time to consider his words, Steve chewed his bite of chocolate cake slowly before swallowing. “I… might actually feel better if you hurt me.”

With a humorless chuckle, Bucky pointed his fork at him. “Haven’t I hurt you enough?”

I don’t think you could ever hurt me so much I wouldn’t still want you.

He didn’t say it, but Bucky caught his thoughts anyway. “Damnit, Stevie. We’re a fucking matched fucked up set. We fucking deserve each other. Why can’t you believe I feel the same way and there’s nothing you could do to change that?”

Steve took another bite of cake instead of answering. Steve had no good answer to that. Steve knew it and Bucky knew it.

“Well,” said Bucky, “I wanna hang you up and do things to you. Not gonna ask me what those things are?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Steve shook his head. “I trust you, Bucky.”

Bucky only scowled.

There were only a few things that occurred to Steve to expect. Bucky had said like in Arizona, and Steve didn’t exactly anticipate he’d be used for target practice.

It was with a heady mix of nerves and arousal that he helped take down the reinforced heavy bags, stripped, let Bucky snap him into the striped cuffs, turned his back to the door, and then waited while Bucky attached the cable to the joining of the cuffs and hoisted them up until Steve’s bare heels were only lightly resting on the carpet.

Still fully dressed, Bucky looked him up and down, lingering briefly on Steve’s half-hard cock. “Comfortable?”

“Yeah,” Steve croaked.

“Good.” Bucky stared at him for a minute in silence, then licked his lips, turned away, and walked past him out of the room.

After a few minutes, Steve admitted to himself that he might have misjudged Bucky’s intentions.

There was a series of loud noises from the kitchen, followed by Bucky’s multi-lingual cursing.

Steve waited.

“You okay in there, Stevie?” Bucky called, maybe ten minutes later.

“I’m fine, Buck,” Steve promised.

About the same length of time passed again before Bucky came back.

“Close your eyes and open your mouth.”

Steve did and listened to Bucky set something on the carpet. He could smell… almost everything they had that was ready to eat.

“Take what you’re given. No…” Bucky hesitated. “No… chewing.”

Oh God, Bucky. Futilely, Steve tried not to imagine the reason for that hesitation.

The first thing Bucky fed him was a square of milk chocolate. It was easy to let it melt on his tongue until Bucky told him to swallow. Next was a section of orange, bright and sweet and clean. Steve used his tongue to press it against his hard palate until it burst. He sucked the juice out and swallowed the remains whole. The cube of cheddar after that wasn’t a challenge. He rolled it around his mouth until it became soft enough to swallow.

Bucky said, “Good,” and continued to feed him. There were crackers with a variety of jams and condiments, more fresh fruit, more cheese, slices of hard boiled eggs, and various desserts from cookies to caramels.

After a while, Steve’s throat hurt a little from morsels that weren’t quite soft enough and he found himself swaying slightly, waiting for...something. The muscles he was using to keep himself in place didn’t burn yet, but they were slowly getting there. He knew Bucky had a thing about making sure he was fed, but this couldn’t be all Bucky wanted, could it?

The frown was clear in Bucky’s voice when he spoke again. “You’re a rotten liar, Steve. No, don’t say a fucking word. You trust me with you and I trust you with me. If we thought we could be trusted with our own damn selves we’d a’been fuckin’ for months.”

Steve struggled against the urge to speak. He hadn’t been lying.

He couldn't say that Bucky was wrong, either.

“I’m gonna tell you some things for about the millionth time and I need you to listen,” Bucky whispered, suddenly close enough to break against Steve’s neck and ear.

Steve shivered.

“I got ‘em written down and everything so you know I’ve thought about it and I mean everything I say. Gonna listen? Let me have what I want?”

Letting himself slump, Steve nodded. This was Bucky’s show. Steve would do whatever he wanted.

“Good.” Bucky kissed him and smiled into it as Steve responded. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna put away the plates.”

Oh, sweet mother of all that is good and filthy in this world. Tony with the cuffs, OMG! Steve's feels over being hanged up and Bucky's feels in response to that, OMG! The FEEDING, OMG THE FEEDING OF SMALL NICE THINGS BUT NO SHEWING, OMG! BUCKY HAS THINGS TO SAY THAT HE WROTE DOWN AND NEEDS STEVE TO LISTEN, OMG! Steve, just please don't fuck this up!

(A!A) It took me a long time to get the next part to a satisfactory ending.

I've extended the chapter count on AO3 to 115, so this would be 112 now, but I'm going to keep going with letters here.

The anticipation was… difficult. Steve was sorely tempted to open his eyes, even if he'd kept them closed so long now the lids felt heavy. He shifted and tried to alleviate some of his increasingly uncomfortable tension. When Bucky returned, he wasn't trying to move quietly. His tread and the whisper of paper in Bucky’s hands helped Steve to focus.

"Huh," said Bucky. "Nod if you're okay or shake your head if you need me to let you down."

Steve nodded immediately. This level of discomfort was nothing really, but it was nice to know Bucky had noticed.

"It's been about an hour and twenty. Got any idea how weird it feels that you're letting me do this? I'da done myself an injury by now in your place."

Steve started to shake his head and then stopped, concerned that Bucky might thing he was asking to be freed.

“Okay then. Here goes." Bucky cleared his throat. Paper rustled. "Steve. I know I love you and you love me, but I also know you're scared about being together. Being together sexually. I want to be clear. The fact that I can and want to and do consent now, and I'm sure you want to too, in no way alters what happened in the past. Multiple people, including me, choose not to hold either of us responsible. But.”

There was a long pause filled only by the quiet crinkling of paper. But what, Buck? Because there was no way Bucky didn't have any reservations. Steve had had enough for both of them and no matter what he tried it still felt like they were on opposite ends of a see-saw. As Bucky's confidence rose, Steve retreated, and then as soon as Steve's confidence rose, Bucky retreated. There had to be a reason they couldn't get on the same page for more than few minutes.

Bucky cleared his throat and continued. "What happened between us under HYDRA was not consensual. I don't mean to upset you, but I wasn't the only one who couldn't freely consent. Our superiors had life and death power over us. They could do or make us do just about anything. We had no options other than compliance. You can tell yourself that you could'a refused or fought or left, but those weren't real choices you could'a made, Steve. You tried, didn't you? Compliance was the least bad choice."

That's what everyone kept telling him. Steve was still working on believing it. He might even have argued if he hadn't been holding his tongue for Bucky.

"Any idea how hard I worked to seduce you? You were my fucking official secondary mission, straight from the Secretary."

Steve inhaled sharply, mind racing. He hadn't known that. He might have expected it, but he hadn't known.

"Yeah, that's right. Compromise Captain Rogers. Half the time, I didn't even know how that could be possible until Rumlow introduced you. You were supposed to be fucking dead. No way were you in front of me, talking to me, touching me, looking at me like I might be the person I'd fantasized about one day getting to be. You looked at me like we were more than a story. I'm not a fucking Black Widow, Stevie. A honeytrap isn't in my goddamn skillset these days. Orders were orders, though, and I was supposed to make you want me so bad you'd get stupid. I didn't know how to do that, so I tried what I knew worked on me and took advantage when you were stupid anyway. I told you before. I drugged you to get you through that first time. I don't know why that first time is one of the clearest, but I was fucking proud of myself. I fucking dream about it now and it's not a damn nightmare until I wake up and think about what I did. I helped them rape you, rape us, and I'm sorry, but I did it."

That wasn't right. That couldn't be right. Putting it that way make it sound like Bucky had had a choice and there was no choice at all.

Isn't that what Bucky just told you? He pushed the thought away. It wasn't the same at all. There was no comparison.

Bucky waited, maybe to see if Steve would try to argue. When Steve stayed still and silent, there was a faint noise like Bucky had shifted position- nodded maybe. The paper rustled against skin and metal. Steve tried to picture it in his head. Was it a whole page, a half-sheet, lined or unlined? Handwritten? Typed and printed? He didn't smell printer ink, but there was no telling how long ago Bucky had finished-

Steve' desperate attempt to distract himself from the actual content of Bucky's words shattered as Bucky said, "I know it's a hell of a lot to ask, but can we try to forgive and move on? Try to stop actin' like guilt is an Olympic sport you gotta constantly train for? They don't get to take our future as well as our past. I. I." For a long moment, Bucky broke off speaking and shuffled his feet. "I want our future. I want us. As a fuckin' couple, fucking pun intended. Fuck HYDRA. They don't get to stop us from having our happy ending and the only happy ending I want is with you. HYDRA didn't tell me to want that. They only cared what I thought so far as it affected my behavior. They couldn't take you out, so they had to convince me they'd put you in. They had to work with what was already there and what was already there was you and me, pal."

God, I want that to be real. Please let it be real. His eyes burned and he struggled against the urge to blink.

"So, you gotta know, Steve. The reasons I would try to make you happy weren't the same as the reasons I would try for the Commander. I might have been afraid, but not of you, not like the others. There was always more to it. You didn't have to get to me. I was yours for the asking since sometime in the mid '30s. My biggest regret about us isn't what we did under orders. It's what we haven't done on our own."

Liquid ran down Steve's face, dripped off his chin onto his chest. He tried to tell himself it was only sweat, but he wasn't under that much physical strain and he still wasn't a good enough liar.

“You should know-" Bucky continued, but Steve couldn't take it anymore.

"Kiss me, Bucky," he gasped, then reflexibly recoiled. Fuck, I gave him an order and...

The thought trailed off as cool metal settled on his hip and warmed flesh and blood fingers skimmed over his shoulder to cup the back of his head to draw him forward into the press of lips. Steve throat emitted a breathless broken sound and he couldn't even be embarrassed at the fresh burst of tears now wetting both their faces.

"Shh, Stevie. I'm right here. I'm with you-"

"I know. I love you. I'm sorry."

"Steve." Bucky sounded desperate, disappointed.

"Yes," said Steve, as firmly as he could, which wasn't very at the moment. He turned his head, coughed to clear the lump in his throat, and said it again. "Yes, Bucky."

There was a long silence filled only by their mutual breathing.

"Okay, then," Bucky whispered thickly. "Look me in the eye and say it. I love you, I forgive you, I still want to be with you. Your turn. Let' hear it."

"I love you, I. I forgive you," Steve repeated, staring into those perfectly Bucky-blue eyes and only stumbling over the second vow because he still couldn't imagine blaming Bucky for any of it. "I still want to be with you."

"No more begging. Let's have sex," Bucky supplied brightly, both hands now on Steve's hips, thumbs making gentle circular motions.

Steve worked his jaw a moment. He let his eyes dart around the room. The paper, a single unlined handwritten sheet, brushed his toes where it had fallen between them. "No more begging. Let's have... Right now?"

Bucky smiled, and Steve realized that somehow the asset's small smile had become Bucky's too. He stepped back and then dropped gracefully to one knee to retrieve the paper.

"I'm not saying no," Steve tried to explain, but then Bucky was down on both knees looking up at him and the familiarity left the rest of his words caught in his throat.

"Well, that's good," said Bucky, "because I have the rest of this written out on goddamn paper. And it's different because I'm the one wearing clothes and you're naked and tied up, so you can tell whatever second thoughts you might be havin' to take a fuckin' hike while I go down on you."

A hard swallow and Steve nodded. "Okay. Please, I-"

The cuffs opened, Steve's knees buckled, and only the Winter Soldier's reflexes saved Steve's genitals from an unfortunate encounter with Bucky's left arm.

There was a heartbeat of shocked stillness as Steve found himself abruptly relocated to Bucky's lap.

"Shit. Guess I oughta said I added another safeword. No more begging."

"Please?" Steve repeated, incredulous. Though, as he thought about it, it only felt more and more appropriate.

They stared at each other until Bucky ducked his head, more happy than sheepish, and then both of them started to laugh, tension evaporated.

"My biggest regret about us isn't what we did under orders. It's what we haven't done on our own." Oh, I love this!

Fill 108/110: Undeniable Plausibility - On to the aftermath!

Re: Fill 108/110: Undeniable Plausibility - On to the aftermath!

Re: Fill 108/110: Undeniable Plausibility - On to the aftermath!

Re: Fill 108/110: Undeniable Plausibility - On to the aftermath!

Re: Fill 108/110: Undeniable Plausibility - On to the aftermath!

Re: Fill 108/110: Undeniable Plausibility - On to the aftermath!

Re: Fill 108/110: Undeniable Plausibility - On to the aftermath!

Fill 109/110: Undeniable Plausibility - On to the aftermath!

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Fill 110a/110: Undeniable Plausibility - On to the aftermath!

Re: Fill 110a/110: Undeniable Plausibility - On to the aftermath!

Re: Fill 110a/110: Undeniable Plausibility - On to the aftermath!

Re: Fill 110a/110: Undeniable Plausibility - On to the aftermath!

Re: Fill 110a/110: Undeniable Plausibility - On to the aftermath!

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Re: Fill 110b/110: Undeniable Plausibility - On to the aftermath!

Re: Fill 110b/110: Undeniable Plausibility - On to the aftermath!

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Fill 110c/110: Undeniable Plausibility - On to the aftermath!

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Re: Fill 110d/110f: Undeniable Plausibility - On to the aftermath!

Re: Fill 110d/110f: Undeniable Plausibility - On to the aftermath!