Fic: Progress
Title: Progress
Rating: R
Pairing: Steve/Winter Soldier!Bucky
Word Count: 1,543
Summary: After months of fruitlessly searching for Bucky, Steve is visited by the Winter Soldier.
Warning: Dub-con, knifeplay, bloodplay
Author's Note: Written for the marvel_cinekink prompt Steve/Bucky, Post Winter Soldier, Poking around right now I seem to keep finding post WS fics where it's all fluffy and fine after Steve finds Bucky. What I want is something where Bucky finds Steve... repeatedly... in a way that Steve, being a gentleman, is not going to discuss in the morning. But hey, it's progress! He's not trying to kill Steve anymore! Well, mostly. Okay sometimes it starts with the trying-to-kill. It's still progress! And perhaps eventually Bucky will actually respond to the conversation attempts Steve keeps making! Or at least respond in a less groinal fashion.
Steve was sitting out by the little pool, watching the moonlight play on the surface of the water and wondering where he should go next, when he felt someone watching him. Natasha, he thought immediately. He called out her name, but she didn’t reveal herself.
He was still being watched. Natasha wouldn’t lurk in the darkness like that. An agent of the now defunct S.H.I.E.L.D. or a HYDRA assassin… Bucky! Steve knew it was Bucky. It had to be Bucky. He hesitated to call to him, afraid of frightening him away. It’d been months since Washington D.C. Bucky must have remembered more, remembered enough to seek him out.
He’d thought the trail had gone completely cold, had even insisted Sam leave him and go on with his life, but here Bucky was closer than he’d ever been. Steve realized he was holding his breath and forced himself to exhale and inhale. There were footsteps behind him. He turned. “Bucky…”
Bucky - no, not Bucky, the Winter Soldier - returned the greeting by smashing his metal fist into Steve’s jaw. It hurt, and for a minute Steve couldn’t talk. The Winter Soldier didn’t talk either. He just stood there, with his arm slightly drawn back, ready to hit him again. But the second blow didn’t come.
“Bucky…” Steve tried again.
“James Buchanan Barnes, sergeant, 107th Infantry,” the Winter Soldier recited emotionlessly. “Attached to the Howling Commandos. Killed in action.”
It felt like he’d been punched in the chest. If he’d insisted they look harder for Bucky after the fall, if he hadn’t given up on him… But Bucky was here now and that was the important thing. Steve could help him be the man he used to be, they could be friends again. “That’s you, Bucky. You’re a hero.”
Bucky made a sound too filled with disgust to be called a laugh. “I’m no hero.” The Winter Soldier aimed his fist at Steve’s head again and this time Steve’s world went black.
Steve stayed at the motel. He knew Bucky could easily find him again, but he was reluctant to risk moving on because it meant moving away from Bucky. What if Bucky didn’t follow him?
He waited outside on a lounge chair all night, every night, exactly where Bucky had come to see him last time. He was determined to wait forever if he had to. But the third night he fell asleep and was awakened by the cold press of a blade held to his throat.
He decided not to say anything. He’d wait and see what Bucky had to say to him. But Bucky didn’t say anything. The Winter Soldier pressed down on his knife, hard enough to cut the skin and draw blood, but not enough to cause serious harm. It was a threat, or a warning. Steve didn’t know what he meant by it. Maybe it was the only language he knew how to speak anymore.
The Winter Soldier put the flat of the blade to Steve’s mouth and smeared blood on his lips. Then he buried the knife into the chair, inches from Steve’s leg, with enough force to puncture the hard plastic all the way through. He leaned forward, bringing his face close to Steve’s, and then he was kissing him.
Steve was too shocked to respond at first. But then he did the only thing he could possibly do: he kissed Bucky back. He tasted his own blood and the taste of cigarettes. Did HYDRA buy cigarettes for their asset? Steve doubted it. From the information he’d put together, HYDRA treated their Winter Soldier like a literal weapon: brought him out for missions, gave him enough care to maintain his capabilities, and put him back in cold storage when the mission was over. Bucky had bought himself cigarettes and smoked them. The realization made Steve so happy, he attempted to wrap his arm around Bucky for a hug.
Bucky sprang back. His knife was clutched in his flesh-and-blood fist, though Steve never noticed him pick it up. He slowly backed away.
“Don’t go,” Steve pleaded.
Bucky turned and hopped the fence and Steve had to watch him sprint away. It was all he could do keep himself from chasing after him. Bucky was remembering. That was twice he’d come to Steve of his own volition. Steve wasn’t going to risk scaring him off.
It was a full week before Bucky came again. Steve was asleep in the too-comfortable motel bed when his door burst inwards, knocked clean off its hinges. The previous times Bucky had been dressed in normal clothes, a hoodie and jeans. This time he was wearing the Winter Soldier’s uniform and there was a big, mean-looking hunting knife in his hand. He was agitated and there was look of fury on his face.
Steve instinctively knew he couldn’t afford to be passive tonight, knew it would only anger the Winter Soldier into seriously injuring him, maybe even killing him. So they fought. They were evenly matched. He’d beaten the Winter Soldier before, but the lives of millions had depended on it then. Now the only life on the line was his own. Steve defended himself, but he didn’t press the advantages that arose.
He thanked God that this was a tourist town and it was off season. He was the only guest staying in this wing so there was no one to overhear the commotion and call the cops. They completely destroyed the room. The table collapsed when he landed on it after being kicked. The chair was smashed into pieces when he used it as a shield against that powerful metal arm. The television got broken when the Winter Soldier picked it up and tried to bludgeon him with it. Luckily he rolled away in time. It was going to cost thousands to pay for the damage. He might have to accept a job working for Stark after all.
The Winter Soldier hauled him in close and Steve thought he was going to head-butt him, but then Bucky was kissing him. Again. Bucky shoved him backwards until Steve’s legs hit the bed and he fell onto the mattress. Bucky laid on top of him and kissed him again, hard. His kiss wasn’t the only thing that was hard. Steve felt his face heat with a blush as he realized his best friend had an erection. On top of him. While kissing him.
He didn’t know what to do besides kiss Bucky, so Steve just kept kissing him. Bucky was pressing his hips into Steve insistently, rubbing against him. Steve was ashamed to feel himself becoming aroused. But anything was better than Bucky leaving again. He put his hand in Bucky’s hair, fingers sliding through the strands until he was gripping it close to the scalp. He could pull Bucky’s head back and bring his own head forward to strike and break Bucky’s nose.
He didn’t. He didn’t do anything to stop Bucky. He just kissed him and played with his hair and wondered why Bucky hadn’t cut it if he’d remembered enough of himself to start smoking again. The Bucky he knew would never wear his hair this long. Only women had worn their hair long in their time. But that was a lifetime ago and things were different now. Maybe Bucky liked having his hair long.
Suddenly Bucky rose up off him. Only to flip Steve over onto his stomach. He yanked down his pyjamas pants and slapped his ass. Steve was terrified. The Winter Soldier was sitting on his legs and holding his right wrist pinned to the bed, but he was Captain America, he should be able to roll over even with no leverage.
It hurt. It was painful and a complete violation, and only the knowledge that it was his best friend made it bearable. It was Bucky’s cock in his ass. Steve concentrated on breathing in and out slowly. The Winter Soldier fucked him without mercy, hard and fast and uncaring. He stabbed into Steve and left him bloody and just kept stabbing him over and over, his cock worse than any knife.
Steve felt lips on the back of his neck, pressed there in a not-quite-kiss. He felt Bucky’s breath warm on his skin. The Winter Soldier bit him at his moment of climax, as if to silence himself with a mouthful of Steve.
There was no movement for a long time, and no sound save for the sound of Bucky’s breathing. Steve had no idea what to say, none whatsoever. What could anyone say?
Then Bucky’s body was off of him, out of him. The sound of him zipping up was loud as a burst of rifle fire. Steve inhaled deeply and turned over to watch Bucky. Bucky was looking at him. His face was unreadable.
“Bucky,” Steve said. “‘Til the end of the line, buddy.”
He wasn’t surprised when Bucky turned and fled. Steve sat up, wincing. He was sore and bloody and alone in a trashed motel room, yet he felt like he was making real progress. He was getting through to Bucky.
Rating: R
Pairing: Steve/Winter Soldier!Bucky
Word Count: 1,543
Summary: After months of fruitlessly searching for Bucky, Steve is visited by the Winter Soldier.
Warning: Dub-con, knifeplay, bloodplay
Author's Note: Written for the marvel_cinekink prompt Steve/Bucky, Post Winter Soldier, Poking around right now I seem to keep finding post WS fics where it's all fluffy and fine after Steve finds Bucky. What I want is something where Bucky finds Steve... repeatedly... in a way that Steve, being a gentleman, is not going to discuss in the morning. But hey, it's progress! He's not trying to kill Steve anymore! Well, mostly. Okay sometimes it starts with the trying-to-kill. It's still progress! And perhaps eventually Bucky will actually respond to the conversation attempts Steve keeps making! Or at least respond in a less groinal fashion.
Steve was sitting out by the little pool, watching the moonlight play on the surface of the water and wondering where he should go next, when he felt someone watching him. Natasha, he thought immediately. He called out her name, but she didn’t reveal herself.
He was still being watched. Natasha wouldn’t lurk in the darkness like that. An agent of the now defunct S.H.I.E.L.D. or a HYDRA assassin… Bucky! Steve knew it was Bucky. It had to be Bucky. He hesitated to call to him, afraid of frightening him away. It’d been months since Washington D.C. Bucky must have remembered more, remembered enough to seek him out.
He’d thought the trail had gone completely cold, had even insisted Sam leave him and go on with his life, but here Bucky was closer than he’d ever been. Steve realized he was holding his breath and forced himself to exhale and inhale. There were footsteps behind him. He turned. “Bucky…”
Bucky - no, not Bucky, the Winter Soldier - returned the greeting by smashing his metal fist into Steve’s jaw. It hurt, and for a minute Steve couldn’t talk. The Winter Soldier didn’t talk either. He just stood there, with his arm slightly drawn back, ready to hit him again. But the second blow didn’t come.
“Bucky…” Steve tried again.
“James Buchanan Barnes, sergeant, 107th Infantry,” the Winter Soldier recited emotionlessly. “Attached to the Howling Commandos. Killed in action.”
It felt like he’d been punched in the chest. If he’d insisted they look harder for Bucky after the fall, if he hadn’t given up on him… But Bucky was here now and that was the important thing. Steve could help him be the man he used to be, they could be friends again. “That’s you, Bucky. You’re a hero.”
Bucky made a sound too filled with disgust to be called a laugh. “I’m no hero.” The Winter Soldier aimed his fist at Steve’s head again and this time Steve’s world went black.
Steve stayed at the motel. He knew Bucky could easily find him again, but he was reluctant to risk moving on because it meant moving away from Bucky. What if Bucky didn’t follow him?
He waited outside on a lounge chair all night, every night, exactly where Bucky had come to see him last time. He was determined to wait forever if he had to. But the third night he fell asleep and was awakened by the cold press of a blade held to his throat.
He decided not to say anything. He’d wait and see what Bucky had to say to him. But Bucky didn’t say anything. The Winter Soldier pressed down on his knife, hard enough to cut the skin and draw blood, but not enough to cause serious harm. It was a threat, or a warning. Steve didn’t know what he meant by it. Maybe it was the only language he knew how to speak anymore.
The Winter Soldier put the flat of the blade to Steve’s mouth and smeared blood on his lips. Then he buried the knife into the chair, inches from Steve’s leg, with enough force to puncture the hard plastic all the way through. He leaned forward, bringing his face close to Steve’s, and then he was kissing him.
Steve was too shocked to respond at first. But then he did the only thing he could possibly do: he kissed Bucky back. He tasted his own blood and the taste of cigarettes. Did HYDRA buy cigarettes for their asset? Steve doubted it. From the information he’d put together, HYDRA treated their Winter Soldier like a literal weapon: brought him out for missions, gave him enough care to maintain his capabilities, and put him back in cold storage when the mission was over. Bucky had bought himself cigarettes and smoked them. The realization made Steve so happy, he attempted to wrap his arm around Bucky for a hug.
Bucky sprang back. His knife was clutched in his flesh-and-blood fist, though Steve never noticed him pick it up. He slowly backed away.
“Don’t go,” Steve pleaded.
Bucky turned and hopped the fence and Steve had to watch him sprint away. It was all he could do keep himself from chasing after him. Bucky was remembering. That was twice he’d come to Steve of his own volition. Steve wasn’t going to risk scaring him off.
It was a full week before Bucky came again. Steve was asleep in the too-comfortable motel bed when his door burst inwards, knocked clean off its hinges. The previous times Bucky had been dressed in normal clothes, a hoodie and jeans. This time he was wearing the Winter Soldier’s uniform and there was a big, mean-looking hunting knife in his hand. He was agitated and there was look of fury on his face.
Steve instinctively knew he couldn’t afford to be passive tonight, knew it would only anger the Winter Soldier into seriously injuring him, maybe even killing him. So they fought. They were evenly matched. He’d beaten the Winter Soldier before, but the lives of millions had depended on it then. Now the only life on the line was his own. Steve defended himself, but he didn’t press the advantages that arose.
He thanked God that this was a tourist town and it was off season. He was the only guest staying in this wing so there was no one to overhear the commotion and call the cops. They completely destroyed the room. The table collapsed when he landed on it after being kicked. The chair was smashed into pieces when he used it as a shield against that powerful metal arm. The television got broken when the Winter Soldier picked it up and tried to bludgeon him with it. Luckily he rolled away in time. It was going to cost thousands to pay for the damage. He might have to accept a job working for Stark after all.
The Winter Soldier hauled him in close and Steve thought he was going to head-butt him, but then Bucky was kissing him. Again. Bucky shoved him backwards until Steve’s legs hit the bed and he fell onto the mattress. Bucky laid on top of him and kissed him again, hard. His kiss wasn’t the only thing that was hard. Steve felt his face heat with a blush as he realized his best friend had an erection. On top of him. While kissing him.
He didn’t know what to do besides kiss Bucky, so Steve just kept kissing him. Bucky was pressing his hips into Steve insistently, rubbing against him. Steve was ashamed to feel himself becoming aroused. But anything was better than Bucky leaving again. He put his hand in Bucky’s hair, fingers sliding through the strands until he was gripping it close to the scalp. He could pull Bucky’s head back and bring his own head forward to strike and break Bucky’s nose.
He didn’t. He didn’t do anything to stop Bucky. He just kissed him and played with his hair and wondered why Bucky hadn’t cut it if he’d remembered enough of himself to start smoking again. The Bucky he knew would never wear his hair this long. Only women had worn their hair long in their time. But that was a lifetime ago and things were different now. Maybe Bucky liked having his hair long.
Suddenly Bucky rose up off him. Only to flip Steve over onto his stomach. He yanked down his pyjamas pants and slapped his ass. Steve was terrified. The Winter Soldier was sitting on his legs and holding his right wrist pinned to the bed, but he was Captain America, he should be able to roll over even with no leverage.
It hurt. It was painful and a complete violation, and only the knowledge that it was his best friend made it bearable. It was Bucky’s cock in his ass. Steve concentrated on breathing in and out slowly. The Winter Soldier fucked him without mercy, hard and fast and uncaring. He stabbed into Steve and left him bloody and just kept stabbing him over and over, his cock worse than any knife.
Steve felt lips on the back of his neck, pressed there in a not-quite-kiss. He felt Bucky’s breath warm on his skin. The Winter Soldier bit him at his moment of climax, as if to silence himself with a mouthful of Steve.
There was no movement for a long time, and no sound save for the sound of Bucky’s breathing. Steve had no idea what to say, none whatsoever. What could anyone say?
Then Bucky’s body was off of him, out of him. The sound of him zipping up was loud as a burst of rifle fire. Steve inhaled deeply and turned over to watch Bucky. Bucky was looking at him. His face was unreadable.
“Bucky,” Steve said. “‘Til the end of the line, buddy.”
He wasn’t surprised when Bucky turned and fled. Steve sat up, wincing. He was sore and bloody and alone in a trashed motel room, yet he felt like he was making real progress. He was getting through to Bucky.