31: Lost Soldier, Found
WARNINGS: Reference Child Abuse, Post Traumatic, Abuse-induced Amnesia, Graphic Sexual Content
Translations:
Bună ziua, cineva aici?- Hello, anyone in here? - Romanian
Evacuăm clădirea - we're evacuating the building - Romanian
Cariad - Love - Welsh
NOTE: During this time jump, Clint is training TJ while Nat and Steve participate in Captain America: Winter Soldier. There are really no changes until after that movie. Thank you.
xxx
Setting: AU: Saturday, January 25, 2014: Miskolc, Romania
Sitting on the queen sized bed, directly on the dingy tan comforter, Clint scanned through different images on his laptop. He barely registered the sounds of his mission partner finishing up in the bathroom of the rundown hotel room as he worked, scanning bolthole after bolthole. He used the connections he'd acquired from Hydra's files, obtained when Shield and Hydra went public at the destruction of the Triskelion. That was a crazy series of days.
Shaking his head, Clint pushed the past from his thoughts so he could look for any little nuance that might indicate an agent or asset in hiding.
After going through half a dozen safe houses on the files, Clint stopped on a tiny bolthole set inside a dilapidated building marked for destruction. Something about that small space nagged at Clint and he sent out a drone for further investigation.
Someone suddenly plopped down beside him on the creaky, old bed, dressed in full uniform of dark grey and black. The uniform was made of breathable fabric, easy to move around in, and had the subtle S.H.I.E.L.D logo on the arm. It hadn't been an easy two years for the ex-Hydra assassin but with Natasha and Clint's help, the Alpha had been reformed. He had learned of the lies Hydra had told him growing up and, since he retained all the memories he'd gotten during his childhood, TJ knew that his old masters weren't exactly kind.
TJ threw a single M&M in the air and caught it easily in his mouth, chewing and swallowing before he asked, "see anything yet?"
"Howdy, boyfriend," Clint said, though both men knew TJ had been lovers with Natasha over the past two years, never Clint, and both men were Alphas. "Graceful as a polar bear, I see," Clint teased. "I've sent Harvey out to investigate this bolt hole. Something moved. Could be man or beast."
Grinning crookedly, TJ threw another candy into the air and caught it in his mouth. The young man, though technically older than Clint, but due to his serums and cryo freezes over the years looked younger, eased back up and peered over Clint's shoulder to watch the screen Clint had going. "Probably a rat or something. This particular safe house has been deactivated since the early nineties." He offered the bag of chocolates to Clint.
Without looking, Clint took a few in hand and popped three into his mouth, still watching the screen intently, guiding the drone using the small controller built into the side of his laptop. "Well, if it's human, he probably sleeps with rats. Look at the garbage and decay in that place. Shoulda been torn down in the early nineties I'm thinking."
Humming softly, TJ nodded his agreement, his eyes narrowing in focus as he watched the screen intently. He didn't carry a natural scent, his suppressants very strong in order to be cleared for any type of field work. He had to remember to take them every single day since his serum burned through them so fast. A slip in the field could be catastrophic. "Hey," TJ inched in closer and pointed to something on the screen, "there, look . . ." his finger pointed to a little pile of books and a picture of Captain Rogers - - one of the highly edited ones anyone could pick up in a souvenir shop.
"Yeah, I see," Clint nodded. "A fan or a target?" He maneuvered the little drone carefully until he could see a pair of worn out sneakers with holes in them. These seemed to be attached to a pair of ratty sweatpants. "Scarecrow or hobo?" Clint asked.
"I can go in and see if you want?" TJ offered, his pale blue eyes suddenly very focused. TJ had yet to meet Captain Rogers but, from what Natasha and Clint told him, Steve was a good man and the thought of his picture inside an old Hydra safehouse put TJ on edge.
"Let me see if I can just get Harvey to scan up a bit further . . ." Clint murmured. He finally got the drone into the little cavity in the wall, revealing not even a room but a dig out of the wall itself. Aside from the four books and photograph, there was a dirty pile of rags on the floor and a man. The man was dressed in dirty, ragged sweats and sweatshirt, hood pulled up, and sneakers. He lay curled as much into a ball as possible as he slept on the rags, a pair of old woolen gloves on both hands, the middle finger of the right hand with a big hole in it.
Whistling softly, Clint whispered, "looks like someone trying to get out of the weather. We should go in and give him a hand to a shelter before that building comes down on his head."
Nodding once, TJ eased to his feet, suddenly as graceful as ever. He made sure the handgun secured in his holster was loaded and ready to use if it came down to it. "Get the hobo out so we can start pursuing real leads. Maybe go stateside for a bit?" He missed Natasha and wanted to see her, if only for a night, before having to fly out to some other country. "I know Romanian. I can talk to him."
Nodding, Clint said, "be nice, Teej. He's probably a local with no home and needs a hand not a threat. Unless of course he attacks first. Want me to come in with you, call me." He never took his eyes from the screen, trusting the man he'd helped assimilate.
"Yes, sir," TJ nodded, shooting a quick wink to Clint before hurrying out of the hotel room and over to the dilapidated building across the street from them. Slipping inside, no one on the street seeming to care or notice TJ entering the building that looked on verge of collapse, he brought out his flashlight and shone it in the direction of the small hole he was heading towards. "Bună ziua, cineva aici?" He called, easing his way closer and closer to the small hole. TJ glanced up at the ceiling, cringing when he heard a shudder than ran through the building.
The man on the rags rolled over, a gun in his left hand, his pale blue eyes bloodshot, tired, and wary.
TJ instantly pulled out his own gun, aiming it at the man, but he didn't pull the trigger. He couldn't quite see the man's face in the poor light. "Evacuăm clădirea," TJ replied smoothly, sounding as Romanian as any of the native people.
Blinking, looking confused and very wary, the man watched TJ for a very long time. He slowly, very slowly, reached up and removed his own hood, revealing that the two looked very similar. "Who are you?" he asked in Romanian.
Suddenly TJ heard a very soft, "holy shit" in his earpiece.
TJ's own eyes widened as he instantly recognized the man as the Winter Soldier. "Soldat?" TJ could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He'd known the Soldier was alive; he'd seen the footage of Captain Rogers fighting him in DC, but he hadn't expected to run into, arguably, the best trained assassin to come out of Hydra in some small bolt hole in Romania!
Narrowing his eyes, searching his piecemeal memory for any recollection of the younger man, Bucky shook his head. "Who are you?" he switched to English.
"You helped train me, Soldier," TJ replied, still holding his gun steady, aiming right at the older man. "But, I'm not with Hydra any longer. I can help you. I can get you somewhere safe."
"We need to bring him in, Wolf," Clint instructed on a whisper. "We need to assimilate him like we did you. He's been fighting on the wrong side and didn't know it . . . like you."
TJ didn't reply to Clint, keeping his focus entirely on the Winter Soldier. TJ knew if he took his eyes off the man for a moment, the Soldier could easily kill him.
"Safe?" Bucky asked, softly, warily. "From Hydra? Safe from Shield? Safe from him?" He slowly rose to his full six foot height, but he looked like he hadn't been doing well scavenging the past few weeks, wrestling with confusion and bare pieces of memory.
"Safe," TJ nodded, keeping his voice even. He didn't question how the Winter Soldier looked so much like himself. He would ask Clint and Natasha about that later. "Safe with food and water and shelter. Safe."
"No chair," Bucky suddenly said firmly, holding onto his gun but lowering it so he no longer directly threatened TJ. "I won't go back in the chair."
Shaking his head, lowering his weapon as well but still keeping it in his grasp, TJ said, "no chair. I promise." TJ offered his free hand to Bucky, letting out a shaky breath. "Let me help you."
"Who are you? I . . . I can't remember?" Bucky sounded tired suddenly, but he reached out his empty left hand to take TJ's.
Helping Bucky to his feet and then allowing the weakened, most likely starving, super soldier to lean on him, TJ replied, "we've met before. Back when I was still in training at Hydra, you helped train me. I thought you were dead for a long time. That is until a few weeks ago back in DC." TJ put his gun back into his holster so he could start helping Bucky out of the crumbling, old Hydra safehouse.
"The man . . . on the bridge," Bucky rasped, "he called me Bucky. Said we grew up together." He put his gun away then, with great effort and pain, moved his damaged left arm, his right curled tight to his side, so he could touch his forehead. "I . . . flashes . . . sweet smells . . . blue . . . kissing fishes?" He shook his head, unable to sort the phrase out in his mixed up mind. "You know . . . Steve?"
"I know of him, haven't got the chance to meet Captain Rogers yet," TJ answered, tapping on his comm unit to relay to Clint, "getting him out now. Need medical evac, target is injured." Looking back at Bucky, keeping a firm, supportive arm around him, TJ said, "from what I've gathered, you guys did grow up together. Even fought in the war together."
"Which war?" Bucky asked, trying to focus on TJ. "You my brother? I . . . sisters? Don't . . . don't think I had brothers." He let TJ guide him, not hearing Clint's affirmative and quick orders for what TJ requested. "You in war, too?"
"I was in several wars," TJ confirmed and then added, "and you fought alongside Captain Rogers in World War Two. It's okay. Don't push the memories right now, alright? We're gonna get you out of here and someplace safe to rest and heal."
"The chair . . . takes the memories . . . replaces them with pain," Bucky reported softly. He'd functioned so much better with no thoughts in his head except the next mission, the next target. Now he found exhaustion and doubt warring with flashes that made no sense to him. He wanted to be told what to do, but he didn't want the chair, the pain. "Gotta burger or something?" he asked without forethought.
"How bad is he, Teej?" Clint asked over the comms. "Bleeding? Missing parts?" He was known as the Avenger who couldn't get out of a mission without injuries, so Clint was always well stocked for first aid. Privately, he thought the phrase a little off, since he wasn't able to avoid injuries with armor like Tony or thick skin like Hulk or Thor, and he didn't heal quick like Steve. He was just a man with damn fine aim and quick street smarts. That didn't make him accident prone.
"Hungry and his arms seem to be hurting him. He's malnourished and dehydrated," TJ reported, carefully bringing Bucky back up to the room he and Clint had been in minutes before. "ETA on medical evac?"
"They won't be here for two hours, Teej," Clint said, turned away from his laptop, which he placed on the little table in the room. "You see to his injuries since he seems to trust you. I'll get food and supplies. Be ready to coax him on a transport to safety when they get here." Once more, Clint found himself in the support role rather than the main one during the initial contact phase; he didn't mind.
Nodding, TJ eased Bucky onto the bed and frowned as he was able to get a better look at the man in real light. "How long has it been since you ate, Soldier?"
"Three days," Bucky responded instantly. He looked up at TJ above him. "Five for cleaning. Water rationed everyday from the rain. Had to stay low. Hydra and Shield exposed, enemies uncertain." He yawned behind his damaged left hand, not using the dislocated right arm, which had been injured for some time.
"Clint, get a lot of food and water for him, okay?" TJ asked, easing off the dirty, rags of clothing from Bucky's body.
Without a word, Clint left, making sure to lock the hotel door behind him. He trusted his partner could take care of himself against the wounded soldier.
Bucky aided as he could then sat as TJ left him, not protesting being stripped. He smelled as bad as he looked. "I trained you? I don't remember. The chair . . ."
"Hey, it's alright," TJ cooed gently, stroking fingers through Bucky's matted hair. "You'll remember with time, okay?"
"Yes, in time." He blinked and horror flashed through his eyes at some shred of waking nightmare. Bucky looked up. "You are a Winter Soldier, too." It wasn't a question. "You are hunted? Is he a Winter Soldier? I don't recognize him."
"I was a Winter Soldier, but I'm not anymore and," TJ eased off the bed to walk to the bathroom to wet a washcloth. Walking back to the bed, TJ eased down and stripped Bucky the rest of the way, beginning to wash away weeks worth of grime. "He is a good guy. He's gonna help get you someplace safe."
Studying TJ's face very carefully, Bucky took in every line and crease and freckle. Finally, he said, softly, "you smell like a child."
Flushing a bit, TJ said, "they halted my age at eighteen. I won't age any more." He continued to clean Bucky's skin, "but, you smell like a nursing home." His tone teased the older man.
Looking slightly puzzled, slightly surprised, Bucky responded softly, "I do not know what age I am. I feel like I'm a hundred." Suddenly he turned his head, pushing TJ to the floor and moving over top of him as he drew his weapon. He seemed on instant high alert, protecting TJ as Clint came into the hotel room.
The former Shield agent assessed the situation immediately and shut the door quickly behind him then stayed still by the door. "Teej? Am I interrupting? I bring gifts."
TJ blinked up at Bucky and said, "it's okay, Soldier. He won't hurt us. He probably has food for you." TJ looked over at Clint, "he's just a bit jumpy is all."
Nodding, Clint asked, "may I came in? I've got food, some medicine and bandages, and your bug out bag so he can borrow an outfit until we can get him clothed." Clint was shorter than the pair of six foot tall men so couldn't really lend his own clothes.
Easing off TJ, Bucky moved back to the bed to sit once more. "I'm sorry?" he asked softly. "It's instinct." He sounded like he wasn't as programmed as he should have been, probably due to not being put through the chair he kept mentioning.
"It's alright, I was the same way," TJ reassured Bucky, pushing off the floor and then walking over to Clint. "Please tell me you got some of those sarmales from that market down the street?" He peered into the bag Clint had brought up. Bucky perking up at the mention of the food.
The food was exactly as TJ had hoped for. While he looked over Clint's offerings, the shorter blond man laid out everything so Bucky could see and not feel threatened. He wasn't firm and take charge like he had been initially with TJ, probably because Bucky's programming seemed to already be breaking down. "Yup, good local food and some questionable local medicine."
Staying on the bed, Bucky watched both men moving about. He softly asked, "may I have some, please?" He knew they kept saying they'd picked up supplies, hinting that he would get a share, but Bucky wanted to make sure he knew if he'd really get any or not. If not, he was going to have to find something soon . . . even if it meant stealing from these men. The idea of stealing from them felt off, but he was desperate.
"Yeah, we'll get you patched up," TJ nodded, taking one of the sarmales, wrapped up, out of the bag and handing it to Bucky. "Eat that while I get your bandages and stuff ready."
"Thank you," Bucky responded and carefully took the food with his metal hand, gears whirring very softly. He used his fingers to unwrap it as his thumb held it in place, thus avoiding using his right hand at all. Beginning to eat, not acting shy that he had been stripped down and sat in front of two unknown men, Bucky studied TJ very carefully. "Not Winter Soldier . . . Winter Wolf?"
Smiling gently, TJ nodded and said, "that's right," he quickly ate his own sarmale before washing his hands in the bathroom. Coming back out, drying his hands on a towel, TJ said "Winter Wolf is what they called me. I like to be called TJ now, if you don't mind. We only use Winter Wolf during missions." He handed another sarmale to Bucky before beginning to tend the other injuries.
"The man on the bridge . . . Captain America. He called me Bucky. Why?" Bucky asked, finishing off his food and licking at his fingers to get every taste. "This tastes good."
Giving Bucky the other sarmale again, since the older man hadn't taken it, TJ said, "I think that might be what you were called before Hydra."
"Before Hydra was cold and pain and darkness," Bucky recited, as if he'd been taught to say it. "Before Hydra was weakness and fear. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't think." Bucky sighed. "I . . . but I don't remember much before the chair." He shook his head and carefully unwrapped the sarmale one handed again then began eating.
Clint sat nearby, not touching any of the food because he wasn't hungry. He could spare his own share for the rescued man. Instead, he handed medicine and bandages to TJ, as he needed them, as well as supplies to wash Bucky off. Very softly, he asked, "Teej, we gonna tell Cap first or those looking for him." He rolled his eyes towards Bucky, "assuming our evac didn't already alert them."
Glancing over to Clint, TJ frowned softly in thought before he said, "have Nat tell him? They're close. She'll be able to keep him level headed." Looking up as he heard the engines of a quintet landing on the roof of the hotel they were staying in, TJ said, "sounds like our ride is here."
"That it does," Clint agreed. "Let's get those bleeding wounds covered and some clothes on him. We can finish our patch up on the jet where we'll have some real medical equipment. Bring the sarmales. I think he's still hungry," Clint offered a smile, his eyes worried.
xxx
Setting: AU: Sunday, January 26, 2014: Washington DC, United States of America
Sitting in the chair of his apartment, a vinyl record playing and filling the space with music of his time, Steve tried to concentrate on the book he read, but something felt off. Steve couldn't explain it but . . . he felt antsy and like something was happening. Pulling out the high-tech phone Tony insisted all the Avengers have, Steve shook his head as he saw he had no messages.
Get it together, Rogers, he mentally scolded himself.
A soft knock on the window alerted Steve to a visitor - - one which didn't want to use the door for some reason.
Frowning softly, instantly on alert, Steve pushed out of his chair. His thoughts instantly went to Bucky, his husband who was out there though neither he or Sam could track him down. It'd been two weeks; Steve knew he needed to give them both more time to make any headway . . . but, Steve wanted his husband more than anything in the world.
Warily, Steve inched closer to the window and then frowned fiercely when he saw the petite form of Natasha on his fire escape. Walking over, Steve unlocked the window and opened it, "Nat? What are you doing here?"
"Don't invite a girl inside without your Mom's approval, Rogers?" she flirted lightly. The pretty redhead smirked up at him, looking rather pleased.
"Something tells me she would have really liked you, actually," Steve commented right back, a smile of his own playing across his lips as he stepped back to allow her to step into apartment.
Natasha climbed easily into the room and looked around. "Cleaned up nicely after the last time I visited. No more bullet hole theme." She slipped her hands into the pockets of her dark blue hoodie and rocked on her heels. "They found him. Clint and his partner are bringing him in right now. Straight to medical for a check up."
Steve's shoulders instantly stiffened and he blinked in shock, "I didn't know Clint was looking for him." Everything in him screamed to go to Bucky's bedside and be with him, but he had to keep his composure.
"Clint wasn't," Natasha said smoothly. "He was looking for Hydra agents hiding in abandoned safe houses. He was in Romania, Steve." She watched her longtime friend carefully. "And the report I saw . . ." Natasha trailed off.
"Natasha," Steve cut in smoothly, "tell me honestly, is Bucky alright? Is he safe?" Steve's bright blue eyes searched her emerald green ones, trying to get as much information about his husband as he could.
"Steve, he was malnourished and dehydrated. Confused." She didn't sit down, staying by the window as she spoke. "He's having trouble remembering anything from before his last mission, though he recognized Clint's partner." She didn't look away, meeting Steve's eyes squarely.
"Clint's partner? Who's his partner? I thought you worked with him?" Steve questioned with a soft, confused frown.
"Winter Wolf. I tried to have you go after him before Loki attacked New York," Natasha answered. "We managed to bring him in and rehabilitate him. It's the only reason Bucky's not being arrested and thrown in a cell. They're debating if he can be rehabilitated enough to make up for his crimes." She studied Steve's vivid blue eyes for his reaction. "He's being held in a classified location."
"I want to see him," Steve demanded, squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin a bit, "if anyone has a chance of breaking through to him, it's me. You know that, Nat." Steve hadn't told anyone about the true nature of his and Bucky's relationship, so used to having to keep their marriage a secret.
"Okay," Natasha agreed easily. "Let's go." She turned back for the window.
"You know, I do have a door . . ." Steve called after her, slight amusement in his tones.
Turning as she began to slip out the window, Natasha answered with a smirk, "and nosy neighbors." She slid out into the night.
Glancing over his shoulder, Steve let out a breath before slipping out after her, shutting the window on his way out.
xxx
Setting: AU: Sunday, January 26, 2014: Washington DC, United States of America
It took some time to reach the facility Natasha claimed they held Bucky at. It took even longer for her to convince those in charge that Captain America had every clearance needed to go interrogate the prisoner. Finally, they only let him in on strict orders that he observe and not actually interrogate. Natasha seemed not to care either way as she led Steve down several corridors before ending at an observation room filled with screens.
"In here, Steve," she said quietly. "We can watch and hear from here. He's in medical right now."
Nodding, Steve stepped into the small observation room, his heart skipping a bit as he saw the shape that his husband was in. Bucky had always been strong, even after Azzano and all those damn nightmares and flashbacks, Bucky had been physically strong. Right then, the brunet appeared to be scared and confused and obviously malnourished.
The woman monitoring the screens, a very attractive dark-skinned woman in uniform, didn't take her eyes off the screen. "That's the infamous Winter Soldier. He was brought in by Barton and his partner about four hours ago. He's been silent and apparently cooperative so far, but everything he does takes him longer than it should." She gestured with a finger to Bucky and two medical staff members, as if her visitors wouldn't know where to look.
Bucky sat on a hospital bed in a hospital johnny with the back open. He watched the two medics warily at all times, looking like a wild animal about to bolt, despite looking sick enough to possibly collapse in the attempt. One medic asked him to raise his right arm and Bucky merely looked at him without responding.
The officer observing from the surveillance room shook her head and made a notation on a tablet by her hand. "He either responds slowly or not at all. We're still trying to figure out what language he communicates in."
"You said he recognizes Barton's partner . . . this White Wolf?" Steve asked, turning his attention to Natasha for a split second before looking back into the room and watching Bucky intently, "was he able to talk to him? I know he," Steve jutted his chin in Bucky's direction, "spoke English to me two weeks ago."
The officer looked up, surprised. "He hasn't spoken English to us. Actually, he hasn't spoken at all. He seems to either not understand the languages we've tried or he picks and chooses what he wishes to acknowledge. You've met him before and he spoke to you? We'd get Barton, but he and his partner are being debriefed."
"Let me go in there and talk with him. We have history, ma'am," Steve suggested once more, not knowing how Bucky would react to seeing him again, but Steve had to try. Bucky had pulled him out of the river so obviously a part of him recognized and cared for him.
Frowning and looking behind Steve, the officer finally shook her head and said, "you need to be debriefed first on the last time you encountered him. The time he spoke to you? Then we can determine if it's viable for you to go in."
"I've already told it," Steve said with a bit of frustration snapping into his tone and blue eyes, "it was on the helicarrier in DC when Shield fell. It's all in the reports, ma'am."
"And in the reports, you are listed as a dubious contact since you haven't been cleared as not working for Hydra," a stern male voice said from the doorway.
Whirling around, Steve couldn't help the glare that came to his features.
The man standing there looked to be vaguely familiar, someone Steve had seen but never talked to. He was solidly built and wore a general's uniform, with a thick mustache and a very old fashioned style military cut to his greying hair, buzzed on the sides and square at the top. "So, Captain, you will submit for an official debriefing for clearance . . . new clearance."
"And, who are you?" Steve asked, wishing there wasn't so many political loops to jump through so he could be reunited with his husband once more.
"General Ross. I worked with Fury on the Avengers Initiative for a time," the man snapped back. "But he went against my advice and recruited that . . . dangerous monster, Banner. I'm in charge of this facility, and I say who sees which prisoners. Am I understood?" The man crossed his arms in a very disapproving manner as he glared at Steve.
Sighing softly, Steve glanced into the room once more and said, "yes, sir." It was obvious the super soldier wasn't happy with the orders.
Ross blinked then looked smug. "Well, at least one person can follow orders." He turned to the officer at the monitor and opened his mouth to speak when suddenly someone came running into the small room. "Sir, the prisoner is escaping. He's using an air shaft?"
Ross growled and bolted form the room, calling for Fulmer to follow with weapons drawn. The woman got up and bolted out, the young intern following, going after a different prisoner being held in the compound. The two medical staff members in with Bucky heard the call and ran off, as well. That left Steve and Natasha in the observation room watching a placid Bucky not trying to escape. Bucky seemed to slump on the medical bed, eyes closing, hunched over and barely sitting up.
Steve glanced over at Natasha, and she could see that he fought himself with the urge to run into the observation room. Bucky was right there! He needed to be with him!
Walking over to the monitor, Natasha slid into the seat and kicked up her feet onto the desk. She didn't look back at Steve as she said, "I wonder if they get Seinfeld on this thing."
Taking that as a cue, Steve quickly hurried across the hall and slipped into the room, shutting the door behind him softly. Turning back to his husband, the man he thought he'd lost seventy years ago and just recently learned to have been tortured and brainwashed by the enemy, Steve called out softly, "hey, Buck." He kept his steps slow, his hands easily seen by his sides.
Lifting his head wearily, Bucky's pale eyes held confusion, wariness. He watched Steve approach but seemed to lack the energy to try to avoid the man who'd been his last target. Instead, he sat there, almost as if dejected or even broken. Very softly, he said, in a rasping whisper, "I know you."
"You've known me since we were kids," Steve nodded, keeping his eyes on Bucky, his movements slow, but he did continue to step closer and closer to Bucky.
"You were little once?" Bucky asked, his pale blue eyes roving down the entire length of the blond before him. "Nah, don't believe it. You musta just hatched from a dinosaur egg or something." He sounded tired.
Unable to stop the soft laugh that escaped him, Steve said, "I was a scrawny, scrap of a kid and you were always pullin' me out of fights there was no way I would win. You'd call me a punk." He stepped right up to Bucky, breathing in Bucky's natural scent . . . a scent he'd missed so much.
"You look like a punk." Bucky blinked slowly and added, "fight like one, too. Shields are cheating." Bucky began to lift his right hand and stopped, wincing in pain. He changed to the metal left hand, lifting it to touch the hem of Steve's shirt. "Can't find clothes to fit ya, punk?"
Plush lips pulling into a smile, Steve breathed out, "I've been assured this is how shirts are supposed to fit nowadays. Though, I'm starting to think Natasha is lying." Steve lifted his own hand and then hesitated a moment, "it is okay if I touch you?"
"Natasha? The redhead with the stingers." Bucky blinked slowly and let his fingers drop. "You can touch if you want. 'M clean now." He still didn't move the right arm, which Steve could see was bandaged and splinted in place.
Suddenly, he recalled a night in their dingy little apartment . . . something Steve would have never thought he'd miss but his heart yearned for in that moment, Steve carefully stroked Bucky's stubbled cheek. "I know what you need, Buck . . ." Steve breathed out before carefully falling to his knees between Bucky's legs.
Blinking dully, Bucky watched without protest, some hint of memory trying to break through. "You know what I need?" he asked, watching the beautiful blond with the familiar sweet smell. "What do I need?"
"Yeah, Buck, I do," Steve confirmed with a nod before reaching up with one hand to gently ease down Bucky's underwear under the johnny, exposing the brunet's cock. Not giving himself a chance to think or doubt himself, Steve leaned forward to engulf Bucky's cock in his warm mouth.
Surprise lit Bucky's face and he began to push Steve back, away. Suddenly, however, the brunet groaned and clutched Steve around the back of the neck. He didn't force the blond, merely holding him. Eyes closing, Bucky let his head fall back, exposing his throat, a low purring moan coming from him. His cock swelled instantly, responding to a touch long remembered even if not actively.
Steve moved his mouth up and down Bucky's cock, gagging a few times before he managed to fall back into a rhythm. His tongue pressed against and massaged the sensitive vein running along the underside of Bucky's shaft. Very carefully, Steve reached up with one hand to gently squeeze and caress Bucky's full balls.
Moaning again, Bucky panted slightly, "God, Stevie . . . what you do to me." He didn't even seem aware of his own words, lost in the sensations that felt so right with this near stranger. "You always treat me just how I need." Bucky slowly realized his words were accurate; somehow, this man always had treated Bucky the way he needed.
Spurred on by Bucky's reaction, Steve continued his ministrations, wanting, desperately, to bring Bucky pleasure. He hoped that Hydra hadn't completely ruined orgasms for his husband, wanting Bucky to be able to feel and enjoy the pleasures of completion.
Fingers clenching into Steve's short blond locks, Bucky let out a low moan and came, hot, thick cum splash against the back of Steve's throat and quickly filling his mouth.
Steve quickly swallowed what he could, finding that he'd missed the taste of his lover, his Bucky. Some of Bucky's cum escaped down the corner of Steve's mouth but he'd managed to swallow most of the large load. After several long moments, Steve started to pull off, lapping and making sure that Bucky was completely clean.
Blinking down at Steve, watching the man lovingly tend him, something inside Bucky seemed to snap. It wasn't exactly recognition, but it was long-learned reaction, almost instinct. Bucky gripped Steve's neck to help lift him, telling him, "get up," in a soft growl. "Get up now!"
Steve stood up, letting Bucky have that control he so desperately craved, "yes, Bucky," Steve breathed out softly, cheeks flushed and lips swollen.
With another soft growl, Bucky let go of Steve only to reach forward and pull down the sweatpants Steve had been wearing that night before Natasha pulled him into the darkness. "My turn . . ." he growled in lustful warning. "You ready for me?" Bucky caressed the underside of Steve's cock ad balls, right back to his passage.
Groaning softly, Steve nodded frantically, his passage slickened and opened already, as if he'd prepared to have sex recently. "Yes . . . yes, please, Bucky? I've missed you so much . . ."
"Gotta help me, Stevie. My arm's kinda dead here," Bucky said without thought, gesturing towards his right with his chin. He continued to stroke Steve's underside, his calloused fingers massaging under cock, balls, and across anus. After a few strokes, and the obvious signs of Steve being very slick and open, Bucky carefully slid the tips of two metal fingers inside Steve's passage, checking if he really was stretched and well slickened. Bucky removed his fingers with a growl, "good boy, Stevie."
Nodding, Steve eased down carefully on Bucky's lap, reaching behind him so he could line up Bucky's cock with his passage. With a groan, eyes fluttering shut with an expression of pure bliss and pleasure, "God, Buck . . ." Steve moaned, rocking his hips to impale himself on Bucky's still full, hard cock.
Bucky groaned, wrapping his left arm strongly around Steve's waist. He began to thrust up to meet Steve, taking moments to establish their old rhythms. Bucky seemed not to take it gently this time, as if he'd forgotten his fear of breaking his once small lover. Instead, the brunet's thrusts were hard and deep, powerful.
Steve's body rocked with the thrusts, rising and falling on Bucky's cock, his strong body taking the hard rhythm easily. He, for once, didn't worry about being quiet, too wrapped up in the pleasures of feeling Bucky inside of him once more.
Sealing his mouth over Steve's shoulder, right over the faint scars from his bite years ago, Bucky thrust up hard and his cock swelled at the base, locking him inside his lover. He seemed to know instinctively to just stay there, releasing his load of cum as he remained locked with Steve. Bucky bit down on Steve's shoulder, inadvertently breaking the gland and releasing mating endorphins neither of them new about.
For the very first time, throughout all the matings they'd shared in their past, Steve shouted in very deep bliss. His cock twitched and splashed cum across their abdomens.
xxx
Setting: AU: Sunday, January 26, 2014: Washington DC, United States of America
"Shit," Nat swore softly in the observation booth, knowing Steve's scream would have been heard by more than her. She tried to set a security lock on the doors, hopping that would keep unwanted visitors at bay while Steve came to his senses. With a frown, she leaned forward, towards the monitor. "Why the hell aren't you getting up, Rogers?" she asked no one. He couldn't be so damn lost as to have ino/i security awareness, could he? The revelation that Captain America enjoyed anal sex with a man seemed the least surprising of recent revelations.
The sound of men trying to open the door across the hall, shouting to each other, came to Natasha and she shook her head, flicking the monitor off just as someone thought to go into the observation room to try the automatic unlock. Just as the door to her room opened, Nat whispered into Steve's comm unit, "you've got military visitors, Rogers." She hoped he heard her.
xxx
Setting: AU: Sunday, January 26, 2014: Washington DC, United States of America
Bucky's swollen cock base began to release and ease from Steve's body. He kissed Steve's lips and whispered, "Cariad."
The door burst open and several armed military officers hurried in amid shouts and orders. They pulled Steve from Bucky and slammed both to the ground, face first, restraining them. In the doorway, Steve caught a glimpse of Natasha being led out, arms cuffed behind her back, before General Ross strolled in and blocked the view. He frowned down at both men being arrested and said, "so, the science experiment is also a traitor? I shoulda known you were in on it."
Steve struggled and bucked against the soldiers holding him down, "I'm not a traitor."
Bucky didn't say a word from where he lay beside Steve, being cuffed, his damaged arm wrenched backwards during the process. He didn't make a sound, his eyes almost blank and staring ahead. However, as he was hauled to his feet, Bucky rasped out, "he's not a traitor. He's done nothing against America. Never would. Too stupid for that."
The apparent insult took the General by surprise and he frowned. "Take the prisoner to a secure location. I'll speak to the Captain myself." As the majority of men lead Bucky away, General Ross glared at Steve. "Tell me, Captain, is that a standard interrogation technique? Being ass fucked by the prisoner? I generally thought it was supposed to be the other way around, actually."
Narrowing his eyes, Steve lifted his chin in an act of defiance, "he's my lover. Anything he's done, it's been under brainwashing, it's not his fault."
Staring at Steve a long moment, looking incredulous, Ross suddenly grinned and said, "so you admit to collaborating with a known terrorist for some time? Who'd have thought Captain America actually worked for Hydra?" Shaking his head, the General looked delighted, "I argued with the best of them that he couldn't possibly, that half of Shield didn't know. But . . . you knew. You lied on the stand!"
"Collaborated? I didn't even know Bucky was alive until two weeks ago. I have never worked with Hydra," Steve replied honestly, wishing in that moment his hands were free so he could punch Ross' smug face.
"But you admitted to being lovers," Ross pointed out. "You just meet a guy and let him fuck you in the ass two weeks later?" Ross rocked on his heels, looking triumphant. "I don't think you're helping his case, Captain. He's a world terrorist and murderer. You wanna go down with him?"
"Did you actually read any of my testimony, General?" Steve finally snapped, "I've known Bucky my whole life. We grew up together, fought in the war together. We didn't just meet."
"And fucked in an interrogation cell for a prisoner together," Ross cut off. "Doesn't look good for you does it?"
"If you're not going to listen to a word I'm saying and just come to your own conclusions, then I'm not going to waste my breath," Steve replied.
"Good," Ross agreed. "Save it for the trial. You are permitted to leave once we fit you with a monitoring anklet. Register your place of residency with my men so we can monitor you and make sure you don't leave the state you're designated in . . . or of course DC for the trials. Hey, we'll push for a speedy trial. It won't last forever." The General sounded as if he truly believed he was giving Steve some kind of benefit instead of putting him on house arrest until Bucky could be tried for treason. "If you cooperate, this will go down easier for you Captain."
Steve didn't say anything, remaining stoic, though his jaw was set in a hard line.
With a signal from the General, several military officers came up and led Steve from the medical exam room. As they walked, one whispered to his fellows, "Captain Ahab, much?"
Another man shushed him and said, "it'll get sorted at trial. They'll throw out the not so important stuff and focus on the real crimes. Don't make it worse by throwing a fit. Are you okay, Captain?" Apparently the military police arresting Steve saw the lunacy in Ross' whale hunt, but no one knew how to stop it at their level.
Steve still didn't say anything, not even looking at any of the men.
Steve was led into a room and offered a seat. The man behind the desk looked pretty impressed and confused to be processing one of America's greatest heros. Once they were alone, except for two armed guards at the door, the military police officer asked, "Captain? Do you wish an attorney? And . . ." he glanced towards the MPs then back at Steve, "is someone arranging an attorney for Sergeant Barnes or will the court choose one? One can be hired by a friend or family member."
Looking to the man, Steve simply said, "we'll arrange for an attorney."
Nodding, the man knelt and fastened the restraint on Steve's ankle. He stood and offered his hand to Steve. "For what it's worth, Captain, we believe in you. The General has a strong sense of . . . wanting to catch a super bad guy? We think he's going to come down hard targeting you."
"Then, he'll end up wasting everyone's time because neither I or Bucky are super bad guys," Steve met the man's eyes, offering a quick shake to the man's hand, and then took up his stoic silence once more.
Nodding, the soldier actually saluted Steve then turned to the transport officers. "Try not to rough him up if he doesn't give you a reason. No need to make the public aware of military affairs, men." The officer once more turned to Steve. "You know the rules? You cannot leave that address you wrote down in New York without prior permission. Agreed?"
"Agreed," Steve nodded once.
"Good luck, Soldier." The officer signaled Steve and the men to go to their transport so Steve could finally accept Tony's offer of a place to live, even if only during his trial.
Tony seemed thrilled when Steve called, apparently a lonely social butterfly who would even accept a teammate that frustrated him to come live as a roommate. He even told Steve that Bruce and Jarvis and Lucky would be delighted. At Steve's confusion over the phone, Tony said, "oh, that's a story I gotta tell you! We'll do popcorn."