punched_hitler | For all of us who've seen the light

Entry tags:

(mcu),
meme

For all of us who've seen the light

Meme Thread Continuation
From: Here

"Seriously," Steve said quietly, trying to smile nonchalantly, even if he still felt a little on-edge. He took a breath, held, it, then let it out at the question.

"That's the long story part. The short answer is, we've both been on ice. In my case, it was unintentional. In yours - not so much." There. That was the simplest explanation, wasn't it? It was the truth, too, if not all of it. "Honestly, you weren't gone more than a couple of weeks before I... ended up taking a very long nap. I woke up a couple of years ago when SHIELD - that's what the SSR turned into - found me. By accident, it turns out."

He watched Bucky as he spoke, looking for signs that he should stop, that it was too much - or that he could keep going.

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No matter what he did, Sam couldn't permanently hurt Steve in this position, so he didn't care if Sam let got - a little or a lot. Not when he heard the tone of Sam's voice and felt the way he was grabbing Steve like a lifeline. It made Steve feel even hotter - and it made him want to make sure they finished together, or at least crossed the finish line relatively close. So even though it was what Sam already wanted, Steve started speeding up, pushing harder, pushing himself toward a second climax as his fingers kept working Sam, squeezing a little harder (but not hard enough to hurt, and definitely not hard enough to stave off an orgasm, that would defeat the point). He sure hoped Stark had made this bed sturdy, because Steve might have ended up damaging a few, in a couple of low-rate motels, when he and Sam were on the trail of the Winter Soldier.

Sam finally felt his orgasm roll over him and his eyes rolled back into his head. He went stiff, clenching around Steve, clutching him close at the same time. He came all over Steve's fingers and on his own belly then relaxed a little. He didn't let go of Steve, just went loose-boned and relaxed. It had been so long, and Sam was almost seeing stars as he started to recover. He looked up at Steve, smiling, scraping his nails up and down Steve's back.

Steve felt Sam stiffen, then his body tightened, just before he felt him spill over his fingers in the small space between them. He grinned, absently, feeling triumphant even as he tried to get his hips under control, make his movements smaller, tighter, trying to push himself over that edge, too, now that Sam had come. He lasted a few more short, hard thrusts, but by the time Sam scraped his nails over Steve's back, it was enough to send his body over the edge. His forehead dropped next to Sam's as he groaned - trying to keep it quiet, finally letting go as his hips pressed one more time into Sam's as he came, shivering a little with the effort - and the pleasure as his body gave in.

Sam hummed, feeling Steve's release pulse inside him. He switched from scratching Steve to simply running the tips of his fingers up and down Steve's back. He shifted his legs, letting his feet simply rest on the sheets. "It's been way too long," he said quietly, stroking his other hand through Steve's sweat-dampened hair.

The change in touches made Steve shiver, slightly, his mouth stretching into a broad, relaxed grin as his body sank down a little, though he was careful to keep his weight on his elbows to avoid crushing Sam. His eyes fluttered at the feel of fingers touching his hair, and he tilted his head enough to at least brush his lips over Sam's temple, nodding slightly. "Yeah. Sorry. That's my fault." He'd been a man on a mission, and Sam had gotten dragged along for the ride - but without a lot of the benefits. "That felt good."

"Yeah, it did." Sam grinned and closed his eyes at the kiss to his temple. "It was your damn fault, but it's hard to argue about sex with a super soldier even though it's been more than a week." He didn't blame Steve at all - Bucky had been all Steve had thought about for the past few months and Sam knew he took a back seat to Bucky, no matter what Steve might have said to protest that. "Now get out of me, you big lug." He pushed at Steve's chest playfully.

"No, I think it's just hard to argue about sex with me," Steve laughed, mostly because he knew he was damn stubborn. "But you should give it a go. Remind me how much I like it." And he tried to prove it, with a last slow kiss to Sam's lips, before he felt that hand on his chest.

"But I like where I am," Steve teased - even as he started moving, because he definitely didn't want to make Sam uncomfortable or sore - well. More sore. So instead he slid out of Sam, carefully, and moved to prop himself up on his side on the bed. "Are you tired?"

Sam smiled, though his eyelids fluttered when Steve pulled out of him. He moved a hand to his belly, where his own come was splattered over his dark skin. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to be with anybody else after you. You've ruined me for any other lovers." He grinned and rolled, tangling his legs with Steve's. "I'm a little tired, yeah." He blinked tiredly then said, "I might sleep, I think." He would regret not taking a shower when he woke up with his legs stuck together from Steve's come leaking out of him, but Steve was warm and comfortable and Sam leaned forward to relax against him, slipping a hand over his hips.

That compliment definitely made Steve flush, this time with true modesty. "I... didn't think I was that great," he tried to tease, though he didn't look exactly displeased, when Sam moved to tangle their legs together. Just because Steve had the stamina to get up and go several more times didn't mean he had to; he was pretty worn out, too, and while he knew they should shower, he didn't want to get up, either. They could shower in a little while. "Yeah... if you do, I will," he agreed, thinking just a little bit of sleep would be a nice reprieve from... well, himself. Sam had managed to clear his mind of all that worry. A part of him didn't want it back, just yet. "Thanks. For... uh, for letting me make things up to you." For the distraction.

"Oh, not a problem at all." Sam grinned. "You should mess up more often, so you can make it up to me." He grinned and leaned forward, pressing his lips against Steve's. He blinked tiredly then rested his head on Steve's chest. He was tired and well-fucked and Steve was like a radiator. "I'm gonna sleep." And he was almost immediately dozing, tucking himself up in close to Steve. "Wake me up in a little while, and we can shower," he said sleepily.

"Don't tempt me, or I just might," Steve teased, though his words were a bit cut off by that kiss. He could tell that Sam was pretty wiped out, though, and just made himself comfortable as the other settled against him. "Yeah. Good plan. I'll try and keep an eye on the clock." He'd probably doze, rather than sleep, which meant he could check the time every time he woke up a little. Even if he didn't need a lot of recovery time, it still sounded nice, and he was comfortable here with Sam against him. He slid an arm around Sam, holding him close as he pressed against Steve's body.

Unfortunately, JARVIS was waking them up a little over an hour later. "I hate to interrupt, Captain, but Dr. Goss says she needs to speak to you. Immediately. Bucky is... upset."

Sam jolted awake at the sound of the AI's voice and groaned. He rolled away from Steve, dragging the sheets up higher. But he was already awake. He opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. He looked over at Steve. "You should go to him. I'm going to shower." He sat up with a wince but got to his feet anyways, stumbling for the bathroom. He was sore and every step sent a jolt up his spine, but he didn't really mind it.

Steve bolted upright the instant JARVIS spoke; he's not sore like Sam is, but he was enjoying the sleep and he'd dozed off a little more heavily than he anticipated.

He blinked blearily, but the instant JARVIS said Bucky was upset, he was moving. He'd managed to roll out of bed by the time Sam had started to get up; he felt bad, seeing the way Sam was wobbling and wincing, even if the other man didn't seem to mind. Steve was already looking for his clothes; if he arrives downstairs a little rumpled, well, it just can't be helped. This is important.

"Yeah - hey." He jogged over to Sam, pressing a quick, desperate kiss to his lips before heading for the door to their little suite. "I'll see you in a bit."

Then he was running, full-scale, for the cell.

Sam smiled. "Yeah, see you in a bit."

Dr. Goss turned when Steve came in. "He was fine for a while. I was sitting here, observing. For some reason, he switched from the Solider personality to Bucky and then..."

Bucky was sitting in the middle of a destroyed cell. His mattress was flung against the wall, sheets everywhere and torn, the bed frame twisted.

Bucky was staring straight at the mirror, features blank. It was hard to tell if it was Yasha or Bucky just yet, but it could have been either of them.

Steve flinched when he saw the destroyed remnants of the cell. He stepped up to the glass, staring, but the face looking back at him was just blank. It gave him the chills. "Can I talk to him?" he asked, glancing back, but his hand was already going for the door. "I want to talk to him. Something's obviously wrong."

Dr. Goss hesitated, then nodded. "Yes. Please be careful, though, Captain."

He looked up when he heard voices on the other side of the door. He felt off, a mash of a broken-glass touch and an iron-hard first. He felt caught, trapped between the two extremes. He had torn apart his cell in a fury, and was now stuck.

"I hadn't started the therapy yet. It's possible one of them overheard our plan, though. Yasha could be trying to assert himself over Bucky, or the other way around. He may be volatile."

"When am I not?" he tossed over his shoulder - a bad joke, because Steve Rogers had the tendency to do just the opposite. He wasn't always careful - with himself. But he would be careful with Bucky. Always.

He opened the door, slipping through and closing it behind him to protect Dr. Goss. Steve held up his hands, tried to look neutral, but friendly - but he was ready, if the Soldier decided to spring. "Hey, buddy," he said, slowly. "Redecorating?

He looked up when Steve came in, spinning and raising his right arm up. There was a long, deep gash along his forearm, gushing blood, that hadn't been visible from outside the room. It was already starting to clot - Bucky's serum had left him with heal rates close to Steve's, but unlike Steve's, Bucky's body would simply heal around a bullet instead of push it out, or heal right around cloth. There was no finesse, just brutal efficiency. It also left him scarred where Steve was unmarked. Bucky's body was a mess of bullet wounds and stab scars.

He asked calmly, voice an odd blend of Russian and Brooklyn accents, "What are you going to do with us?" He met Steve's gaze calmly, expression inscrutable.

Steve moved to block the possibly blow - but it never came. Instead, he frowned, dropping his arms (though not relaxing his stance) as he stepped forward to get a better look at that arm. It might be clotting already, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

He looked up, still frowning, at the question. "I don't know. We're going to try to help you. I think... I think that would be best for... all of you." He didn't say how, because no, he didn't want to give anything away. He didn't know if he - they? - knew about the plan, but he wasn't going to risk it. Help was a general enough term, and it wasn't a lie. "Let me see your arm."

He hesitated, the thin line of his mouth spoke of distrust while his eyes were definitely trusting. Finally, he offered his arm to Steve and sat perfectly still, watching Steve closely. His body was tense, ready and waiting for danger to spur him into action.

Dr. Goss watched carefully. There was no telling how long this delicate balance of Bucky and Yasha would last. He could snap to either side or just fall to pieces at any moment. She didn't want to break the concentration in the room, didn't want to influence things one way or the other. Steve was so close - if Yasha suddenly took over, Steve could be in mortal danger.

Steve took the proffered arm carefully, both because he didn't want to jostle it and because he didn't want to scare - or anger - whoever he might be dealing with. He didn't really seem to care that he could be in mortal danger, mostly because he didn't. He'd risked his life so many times for people he didn't know, how could he not risk it for someone that meant everything to him?

"Here - " he said, carefully pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket, pressing it to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding for good. "I can get you something for that. To wrap it up. If you trust me."

He winced at the touch of cloth to his arm, then nodded. He pulled his hand away, pressing the cut to his body with the cloth in the way to try and keep pressure. "Alright." Part of him trusted Steve with his life, and the other part of him didn't, would do anything to tear Steve apart. So he couldn't tell Steve he trusted him, because it was only partially true.

Steve nodded - glad that he was at least letting Steve treat the wound, even if there was nothing said about trust. He wasn't a doctor, but he'd learned field medicine and the healing factor should be able to make up for what he lacked. He turned, heading back for the room, pointing through the glass at where the first aid kit was. He'd need Dr. Goss to get it for him, and open the door, since it couldn't be opened from in here. Which was a good thing, if that Soldier ever did come back.

Dr. Goss turned and grabbed the first aid kit off the wall. She stepped into the room only a little, offering the kit.

He looked up at the doctor, eyes suddenly going wide. Then he jerked and turned his face away, breathing hard. She looked like one of the scientists who had reprogrammed him, wiping away part of his mind and replacing it with something harder, darker, colder.

He squeezed shut his eyes, trying his hardest to hold himself back.

"Steve..." Dr. Goss glanced over at Steve in worry then over at the man practically huddling into himself. He flinched when she spoke.

He had been trained to be still and silent and that was the only thing keeping that part of him back. As much as he wanted to lash out at her, for what she had done to them, he couldn't.

"It's okay," Steve said steadily - though he wasn't sure if he was talking to Bucky, Dr. Goss, or both. Probably both. He took the first aid kit, motioning back to the door with his chin. "I think other people make him nervous." And confused. She probably already knew that, but he needed to get over to Bucky and treat that wound without him being terrified, so it would be best if the doctor wasn't in the room. Then he'd head over - carefully - in Bucky's direction to deal with that cut. "We'll just take it slow."

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