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Waiting for Zemo in his storage unit - if he can even call it that, it’s more of a warehouse - has Bucky pacing and on edge. He’s not sure he’s ready to see Zemo again, free with nothing between them. There’s an odd tension thrumming through him. He guesses it’s due to the way Zemo used him in Berlin all those years ago and not having a prison wall between them.
“Zemo's gonna mess with our minds. Especially yours. No offense,” Sam says from across the room.
“Offense,” Bucky says, frowning at Sam.
The door opens and Zemo strides in, Bucky straightening up on alert. It’s strange seeing Zemo in a prison guard uniform, but he looks completely at ease. Bucky wishes he could manage a sliver of that level of comfort existing, just the sheer confidence emanating through every casual line of Zemo’s stance makes him jealous. He even manages to make the kind of dumb prison hat look good.
Bucky gets distracted arguing with Sam about Zemo while the latter rifles through one of his many antique vehicles, surfacing only when Zemo straightens up with a bundle of clothing in his arms. He deposits the clothes on the car and Bucky loses his train of thought as Zemo starts stripping out of his stolen uniform.
It’s important to make sure that Zemo doesn’t have any hidden weapons, Bucky reasons as he watches. Or at least that he knows where they are, since Zemo will always have weapons. He glares at Zemo when he throws a look over his shoulder at them. Zemo pauses in his unbuttoning, raising an eyebrow at Bucky and Sam. He feels Sam turn away at his side and Bucky folds his arms obstinately, not looking away. Zemo smirks at him over his shoulder and resumes taking his clothes off, slower now and Bucky’s not sure what he’s up to.
He runs his eyes over Zemo’s slowly exposed form, noting that he must have stayed in shape in prison. His freckled back has strong lines and he can see the way Zemo’s muscles flex when he shifts his weight to a hip, pivoting slightly in a quarter turn so Bucky can see more of his profile. The low light of the warehouse highlights the cut of his hip as Zemo steps out of his pants, leaning against the car. Bucky supposes he’d be a bit short on modesty after years in prison and the military. At least the way Zemo’s decided to totally strip makes it easy to see if he has any weapons on his body.
Zemo throws him another sidelong look and Bucky stares back, unrelenting. Zemo flicks his eyes down Bucky’s body and he shifts defensively. Zemo might be looking for weapons to take off Bucky since he doesn’t seem to have any, with the way he’s checking around his hips intently. Bucky can see the shiver race up Zemo’s bare skin and he wonders why he’s not getting dressed if he’s cold.
The ripple in Zemo’s muscles as he shifts again, stretching across the car to reach his clothes is surprising. That sleek strength will come in handy for their mission. Bucky keeps a suspicious eye on Zemo as he pulls his clothes on, he’s never seen someone dress so slowly. He’s not sure what Zemo could possibly be doing right now but he’s never been able to keep up with Zemo.
Zemo swings a ridiculous coat on and clears his throat, turning to face Bucky and Sam with his trademark smirk.
“Well?” he asks, amusement curling through his voice.
“If you’ll put your eyes back in your head, Bucky,” Sam says with an exasperated edge to his voice as he turns back to Zemo.
“What?” Bucky asks, dragging his eyes from Zemo to look at Sam questioningly.
“I can’t believe this is happening. Why me?” Sam says under his breath. “C’mon, let’s go,” he says louder.
***
Bucky sighs, spinning his glass in his flesh hand.
“Something on your mind?” Sam asks him, sipping from his own drink.
Bucky sighs again. “Just thinking about Steve. You know.”
Sam makes a noise in agreement. “He’s earned peace, but it is rough that he left.”
Bucky stares into his drink. “Yeah…I guess it’s the first time he’s left me. Before it was always me leaving.”
“I don’t think you can say falling off a train was you leaving him,” Sam says, sitting up slightly.
Bucky waves that away. “That was just one of the times. I mean, I left for the war too.”
“Weren’t you drafted?” Sam asks with a frown.
“Yes, but I still left him in Brooklyn, where he was supposed to be safe ,” Bucky says, biting off the last word in remembered anger and fear. “Safer than the war, anyway. Considering how much I had to take care of him and keep pulling him out of alleyways.”
He takes a drink, lost in his memories for a quiet minute.
“We were inseparable, you know?” Bucky says suddenly. “All that time together, we lived together. Side by side. It was always Bucky-and-Steve, Steve-and-Bucky. I didn’t know what to do without him once I shipped out.”
Sam sits quietly, waiting for Bucky to continue.
“It was incredible to see him again, even though I was so mad he’d offered himself up for a science experiment. What if he’d been hurt, or killed? I couldn’t have…” he trails off again. “It was like seeing his personality reflected on his body finally. He’d always had such a big personality, the new height and muscle and strength just fit him, you know? I’d never seen someone with so much muscle until then.”
Sam’s face is doing something a little strange, but Bucky is lost in reminiscing.
“It was hard to have to share him. He was Captain America, always in demand. And then there was Peggy.”
Sam raises an eyebrow. “Peggy, huh?”
“Yeah,” Bucky sighs. “I was, I don’t know, jealous maybe that I had to share his time. No one but me had ever seen him for who he was before, and now that he was all muscle and height, now someone was paying attention to him?” Bucky shakes his head. “I tried to be happy for him though, of course, he deserved everything after all those years.”
“That’s why you were jealous of Peggy? Having to share Steve’s attention?” Sam sounds skeptical.
“Yeah? We used to be together all the time, and then he only had eyes for her. Why else?” Bucky asks, confused.
“No reason,” Sam mutters.
***
Bucky’s cleaning his metal arm one day in the living room when Zemo comes over, settling onto a chair in a way that has Bucky bracing for whatever is going to come out of the baron’s mouth. He’s been more cryptic and strange lately, which is saying a lot for him.
“It’s always important to take care of weapons, hmm?” Zemo says, innocently.
Bucky grunts in response, focusing on the tinier grooves along his wrist. He hates not knowing what Zemo wants, which is always, but he hates it more right now.
“I’m sure your former handlers took good care of you, didn’t they?” Zemo continues, quirking a brow.
The glare Bucky levels at him doesn’t ruffle Zemo at all.
“ I would take good care of a weapon, especially one like the Winter Soldier,” Zemo says, some strange tone underlying his words that Bucky emphatically does not understand but instinctively knows it’s bad news.
“They took care of me,” Bucky says finally, hoping to shut Zemo up. Unfortunately Zemo perks up at his words.
“Did they?”
“Yes, obviously,” Bucky grumbles, trying to clean the stubborn grit out faster so he can escape. He could move everything to his room, but it’s such a pain and maybe he can just finish before Zemo gets too annoying…
“I’m sure they had special ways to take care of their soldier,” Zemo says, weighing his words significantly again.
“I’m sure they did too,” Bucky snaps. “I wouldn’t know the difference, would I?”
He really has no idea what Zemo is trying to find out. The Soviets took good care of him, just as anyone would a weapon. He was their greatest weapon - he tries to suppress the instinctive surge of pride he gets at that and fails - and they made sure to maintain him in top condition for field work. Even HYDRA - while they were less adept than the Soviets, they still maintained him as a tool for the field. Why would they mess up their most expensive and dangerous weapon?
Zemo is still silent as Bucky finishes up the final grooves in the joint and he packs up without hiding his relieved sigh. It’s not like any of the agents liked taking care of the soldier - he got called creepy a lot - but they did their jobs just fine. He has no idea why Zemo wants to know that.
“Don’t you already know all this? You had the soldier’s book, didn’t you? They had all the instructions in there,” Bucky says in sudden realization. He narrows his eyes at Zemo, who looks absolutely stymied by his question. Bucky would love to enjoy getting one over on Zemo if he only knew how he did it. As is, he just leaves Zemo there, apparently as baffled as Bucky was by their conversation.
***
They’re at a seedy bar one night, searching for information when Bucky spots a woman being cornered by a suspicious looking man. He abandons Sam mid sentence and pulls the man away, sending him scurrying with a threatening look. He looks back at the woman who still looks scared and he realizes he probably seems just as dangerous.
“Hey, are you alright?” he asks, raising his hands and stepping back a little.
She gives him a suspicious look, but nods once. She opens her mouth, and then her eyes flick over Bucky’s shoulder and she relaxes abruptly.
“Thank you,” she says with a suddenly friendly smile.
He feels Sam and Zemo behind him, and he’s not sure why their presence is calming when it’s more men at once.
Zemo leans around him. “Our James is ever gallant, isn’t he?” he says with his trademark smirk.
She giggles a little. “He must be such a sweet boyfriend to have,” she says to Bucky.
“Boyfriend?” Bucky is confused, and then realizes she must mean Sam and Zemo. “Oh, they’re not boyfriends. They’re both straight.”
The woman stares at him a little, and Sam gives him an exasperated look.
“Don’t bother,” Sam says, exchanging an eye roll with the woman.
“Oh, one-sided?” She gives Bucky a sad look and pats his arm. “I’m sure it’ll all work out.”
“Thanks?” Bucky says, completely lost. Zemo has an unreadable look on his face, and Sam looks completely done.
“Thanks for getting rid of that asshole,” she says to Bucky. “My girlfriends are just over there.” She slips out around the three of them, giving Bucky another sympathetic smile. “Good luck!”
Bucky stares after her, and then shakes it off. He hasn’t been good at understanding people in a long time.
***
“I see where you got your reputation, you player,” Sam says to Bucky with a grin as they’re walking back to the apartment, elbowing him and wincing when he hits one of Bucky’s knives.
“My reputation?” Bucky asks, distractedly, trying to keep an eye on Sam and Zemo at the same time.
“Bucky Barnes, ladies man,” Sam says with an expansive gesture like he’s reading from a marquee. “The scourge of Brooklyn fathers everywhere.”
“Sam, no - I, no that’s not-” Bucky sputters, whipping around to glare at Sam who is grinning unrepentantly at him.
“Sure,” Sam says, drawing the word out in a mocking tone.
“I wasn’t a player ,” Bucky bites out like the word offends him. “They liked me because I was respectful .”
“Respectful,” Sam repeats with a disbelieving eyebrow as they get into the living room.
“Respectful,” Bucky insists with a nod, folding his arms defensively. “The girls liked me because I was careful and respectful, unlike some of the other men.”
“Careful, huh?” Sam says, a teasing glint in his eye.
Bucky feels heat flood his face and he scrubs his hands across his eyes. “Not like that, fuck,” he groans. “I was a gentleman, always saw them home safely after a date.”
Sam’s got a thoughtful look on his face and it’s making Bucky nervous.
“What?” he demands after a pause.
“I’m sure you still got plenty of very sweet and respectful kisses,” Sam says, a calculating look in his eye.
Bucky turns redder somehow.
Sam’s mouth drops open and he leans forward, staring at Bucky. “No,” he gasps. “You’re not saying….Bucky, you haven’t…”
“Shut up,” Bucky says, face on fire and looking for an escape. He’s so thankful Zemo went ahead of them into his room and isn’t witnessing his embarrassment right now. He doesn’t know why it’s such a big deal but everyone always makes it one. He’d taken to dodging questions or lying if he couldn’t during the war but he hasn’t had to deal with this line of questioning since.
Sam makes an impressive effort to collect himself and clears his throat. “Really, though? You?”
“Yes,” Bucky says again, “really.”
“But…”
Bucky sighs. Apparently he’s not going to get out of this one so easily.
“Is it so hard to believe that I was respectful of the girls I took on dates?” he asks instead. He’s never understood why everyone was so surprised when he said he didn’t push.
Sam purses his lips and doesn’t reply, which says enough. Bucky huffs again.
“I took a lot of girls on dates in Brooklyn because they knew I was respectful! They knew I wouldn’t try anything.”
Sam’s mouth twists like he’s holding back from saying something but only nods. “Okay, okay. I get it. I was just surprised.” He offers a conciliatory smile to Bucky.
Bucky takes a deep breath and forces himself to relax and nod back. “Yeah, I get it. I got it a lot back in the war.” He shrugs.
“Well, what can you do,” Sam says philosophically.
***
Zemo corners him again a couple days later. Well, Bucky supposes, corners is a strong word when Bucky could just jump over the balcony to escape, but it’s the intent that counts. He braces himself for whatever weird questions Zemo is going to ask this time. Zemo perches on a chair next to him.
“Have you always been so …obedient?” Zemo says, with an annoying little pause.
Bucky glares up at him, the light catching Zemo’s honey brown eyes as he watches Bucky.
“I’ve been a soldier for a long time, Zemo,” Bucky says levelly, trying to not react.
“Surely the soldier was more obedient than most, though?” Zemo says, fishing.
Zemo has the weirdest trains of thoughts, Bucky thinks with a sigh. “Yes, the soldier was completely obedient. Don’t you already know this? You used my trigger words in Berlin.”
Zemo looks oddly irritated by his response. Bucky gives him an annoyed look when he doesn’t budge.
“Yes,” Zemo says finally, “but I didn’t ask you to do that much. How far does that compliance go?”
“ Did it go, you mean?” Bucky says with a scowl. Zemo tilts his head in acknowledgement and Bucky shrugs. Zemo’s obsession with the soldier might have some ulterior motive, but Bucky isn’t the soldier anymore and can’t be controlled like that. “All the way. Couldn’t say no. Couldn’t deviate from the orders.”
Zemo incongruously brightens up at that.
“You - ah, the soldier, couldn’t refuse an order? No matter what?” Zemo’s eyes are lit with curiosity and something maybe a little manic. What a fucking weirdo.
“Yes, Zemo, that’s what I meant.”
“Like what?” Zemo asks, focused on him like a snake with a rat.
A memory surfaces suddenly and Bucky realizes he didn’t always follow orders. The old fear at his disobedience rises again and he forcibly shakes it off. It’d been so much when he’d been the soldier, now he’s free and it’s okay. No one can punish him for this.
“Almost always,” Bucky corrects himself, quietly. He’s not sure why he’s telling this to Zemo of all people, but no one else is around and it's always haunted him.
Zemo scoots forward at the change in his tone and almost falls off his chair, very catlike as he collects himself and pretends he didn’t.
“Tell me,” he all but demands.
“There was one time,” Bucky starts, lost in the sudden memory.
“Be more detailed,” Zemo demands again, confusing Bucky. “How many were there? Who was there?”
It’s not like Zemo would know any of the random agents Bucky’d worked with forty-odd years ago, but it’s not like the information matters either.
“I don’t know, a couple? I always had a group handling me,” Bucky says vaguely. “They never left me alone except for cryo, and it took a few people to prep the soldier.”
“That gear must have been hard to get the soldier out of,” Zemo says, eyes bright.
“Uh, yeah,” Bucky replies, thrown by the nonsensical bent of Zemo’s questions. He’ll never understand Zemo. “It was a bit strappy. Coming back from a mission was always…messy,” Bucky continues, remembering all the cursing his handlers had when the blood and dirt made the buckles impossible to undo.
“So, the time you didn’t follow orders? Fought back?” Zemo asks avidly.
“It was raining and I was on my way back through the streets of….of…” Bucky frowns, trying to remember. “Prague? Or was it…” he trails off again, frowning at the blur of his memory.
Zemo looks visibly frustrated.
“Anyway,” Bucky continues after a minute of silence, “it was raining and the streets were flooding. Weather wouldn’t stop the soldier, so I was completely soaked.”
“Completely soaked,” Zemo whispers, almost to himself.
“Yeah. My handlers were going to be so mad,” Bucky remembers thinking even then. The heavy rain would have made all his ridiculously elaborate leather swell up even worse than blood. “I think they had to cut my gear off me that time.”
Zemo’s face is flushed now, the light pink across his cheekbones bringing out the golden undertones of his eyes. It distracts Bucky for a long moment, taking in the strange beauty of Zemo’s aristocratic face in the warm sunlight. He shakes it off.
“What did they use?” Zemo asks, laser focused on Bucky’s face.
“Use?” he asks, thrown yet again.
“To cut it off.”
Bucky stares at him. “I don’t know, knives probably? It’s hard to cut through wet leather.”
Zemo’s eyes glaze over a little and he sucks in a sharp breath. Prison must have done a number on him, Bucky decides.
“There were these little whimpers, I remember not understanding where they were coming from,” Bucky says, deciding to continue regardless of how strange Zemo is being. “Those pained noises, I just…it cut through the conditioning I guess.”
Zemo licks his lips, mouth slightly parted. Bucky stares at it, the glistening pink that he wants to…? Apparently Zemo’s weirdness is infectious.
“It was like waking up in the middle of a nightmare,” Bucky says. “It was too much and I had to do something.”
Zemo looks like he’s going to pass out.
“Well,” Bucky decides to cut the story short. “My handlers were pretty pissed when I showed up with three wet kittens stuffed into my jacket. Not exactly standard procedure. I think I might have injured some of them when they threatened the kittens. Not like they let me keep them of course, but they were a lot more careful after that.”
The expression on Zemo’s face is completely frozen. Bucky blushes a little.
“I couldn’t just leave them there! They would have drowned!” he defends himself. “It was so hard to go against my orders, but…” The memory of how it felt to disobey floods over him and this time it feels good, it feels right that he managed to break free even if only for a short while.
Zemo is still sitting speechless, staring at Bucky. Bucky’s not sure what’s going through his mind, but he’s more than a little uncomfortable now.
“I uh, I’m gonna go,” he says, standing abruptly and bolting inside.
***
He’s sitting on a stool at the counter when something touches his lower back and he reacts before he knows what’s happened. Zemo hits the floor a few feet away, landing heavily on his back.
“Don’t touch me like that,” Bucky says irritably.
“Like that, specifically?” Zemo asks from the floor.
Any way,” Bucky snaps. “I don’t want to throw you through the window accidentally if you startle me again.”
“Such a strong reaction to a friendly touch,” Zemo says, calculations running in his eyes.
“After seven decades of my handler’s oh so tender mercies, any touch is a potential threat,” Bucky says, exasperated.
Zemo looks inexplicably victorious.
Sam walks over to Zemo and offers him a hand up.
“Any touch?” Zemo says, a strangely intent look on his face again. Bucky has no idea why he keeps getting that look from Zemo.
“Yes,” he says annoyed. “I spent too long in combat to not react defensively to any potential attack.”
Zemo narrows his eyes. “Attacks only?”
Bucky gives him a weird look. “Yes? What else would there be? I was a weapon.”
Zemo looks frustrated again. Fucking weirdo, Bucky thinks.
“Just drop it man,” Sam says to Zemo, shaking his head. “It’s like talking to a brick wall.”
Zemo looks more stubborn at that. Bucky has no idea what they’re talking about and he decides to ignore them again.
***
The way Zemo watches him has shifted noticeably the past few days and it has Bucky on edge. He’s still not sure what Zemo is up to or what he’s looking for, but it’s got him unbalanced.
“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” Zemo purrs, stalking over to where Bucky is sitting.
“What? How I …what?” Bucky stutters. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“There’s no need to pretend, Samuel is not here,” Zemo says, eyeing Bucky like he wants to eat him.
Bucky is increasingly flustered, opening and closing his mouth without making a sound. Suddenly he has a lapful of Zemo, straddling his legs and his hands running down Bucky’s shoulders.
“Pretend what?” Bucky chokes out, trying to lean back from all the Zemo in front of him.
“You want me,” Zemo says confidently.
“I… no!” Bucky protests, confused and flustered and an uncomfortable heat and tension rising in him he doesn’t know what to do with. “I just have to keep an eye on you!”
Zemo looks unconvinced. “Samuel keeps an eye on me. You can’t keep your eyes in your head.”
Bucky blushes and doesn’t know why he’s blushing. “I don’t know what you mean,” he protests again.
Zemo frowns suddenly and sits back, searching Bucky’s reddening face.
“You don’t actually know, do you,” he says, sounding shocked.
“Know what?” Bucky asks, lost in this conversation.
“You’re attracted to men,” Zemo states.
“I…no!” Bucky stutters again.
“You’ve never done any of this before,” Zemo continues, looking absolutely fascinated. “You’ve never touched anyone before. Have you ever even kissed someone?”
Bucky turns redder and looks away. “I was being respectful!” He says, weakly.
Zemo rubs a hand over his face. “All this time…” he mutters to himself, shaking his head. “You were ‘respectful’ of women because you’re gay,” he says louder, giving Bucky a firm look. “How many men have you watched and found attractive?”
Bucky sputters. “That’s…that’s normal!”
Zemo gives him an exasperated look. “Not the way you watch me, it’s not. Look how you’re pushing into me, begging me to touch you.”
Bucky looks down and sees Zemo is right and he’s been unconsciously leaning forward towards Zemo’s body and he leans back embarrassed. Zemo clicks his tongue.
“Let me show you,” Zemo says, voice softer now.
Bucky hesitates, feeling exposed and stupid and lost. He finally nods jerkily, sitting frozen and unsure. He doesn’t know what he wants but Zemo’s offer is drawing him in.
“Shh, relax,” Zemo says, stroking his arm soothingly.
Bucky forces himself to relax a little and Zemo hums approvingly. “We can go slow,” he says comfortingly.
After a moment, Bucky nods, trying to lose some tension under Zemo’s weight, but Zemo’s closeness is scrambling his brain. Zemo leans in slowly, sliding his hand up to cup Bucky’s jaw and he shivers at the intimate touch. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands or his face or anything and he stays frozen, waiting for Zemo to take charge.
The first brush of Zemo’s soft mouth across his makes Bucky tremble and suck in a breath. Zemo touches their lips together again gently, testing the waters and Bucky appreciates the careful approach even as he feels weak with need. He tries to press up into Zemo’s mouth and misses a little and embarrassment drowns him. Zemo gently tilts his head to a better angle and deepens the kiss, still gentle but firmer and Bucky shivers and presses back.
He jumps when he feels Zemo’s tongue ghost along the seam of his lips.
“Open for me,” Zemo murmurs against his lips, and Bucky opens obediently.
The first touch of Zemo’s tongue against his own breaks Bucky’s brain and he moans into Zemo’s mouth, hands coming up automatically to fist in Zemo’s shirt and wrap one in his hair and pull him down and into Bucky. Zemo’s hands tighten on Bucky and he grinds forward on Bucky’s lap and Bucky’s head spins at the sudden drag against his cock. He’s never felt anything like this before.
Zemo tries to pull back a little from Bucky, panting and Bucky chases his mouth automatically. Zemo smiles and pauses him with a hand on his chest. “Is that okay?” he asks, and Bucky is warmed by his care even as he’s impatient with the pause.
“Yes,” Bucky says emphatically, shamelessly using his superior strength to pull Zemo back into him. Zemo goes easily and somehow the kiss gets hotter and messier and Bucky whines into it, writhing under Zemo searching for something he doesn’t know. Every rocking movement of Zemo against his hard cock wrings another whimper out of him and Bucky is riding an edge of pleasure-pain.
Zemo breaks away again. “Let’s go somewhere more comfortable?” he asks, and Bucky nods eager to experience whatever Zemo wants. He has no idea how he’s gone so long without ever experiencing this. Zemo slides off his lap and Bucky misses his weight, and lets Zemo tug him to his feet, trailing him to Zemo’s bedroom. The sight of Zemo’s bed, the rich purple sheets tossed back sending a bolt of need through Bucky and his legs wobble a little.
He lets Zemo push him back onto the bed, edging his way up into the middle. Zemo crawls on the bed after him moving like a panther and Bucky can barely breath at the sinuous way Zemo’s body moves. He’s never seen anything like it and he’s never wanted anything more.
Zemo’s hands slide under his shirt and Bucky arches into the light touch, skin burning as Zemo pushes his shirt up slowly. Every inch the fabric drags over makes him pant and when Zemo’s fingers graze his nipples Bucky outright mewls as he collapses against the bed under the unexpected bolt of pleasure. Zemo pauses and flicks one of Bucky’s nipples with a fingertip and Bucky jerks and bites his lip, trying not to be too loud.
“Make all the noise you want,” Zemo purrs, seemingly reading Bucky’s nerves. “I want to hear how much you’re enjoying yourself.”
The slight embarrassment at his earlier noises fades and he helps Zemo strip him out of his shirt. He barely manages to feel the usual shame about his shoulder scars before Zemo pounces on his chest and catches one of his nipples in his mouth. Bucky cries out at the scrape of teeth, shocked how sensitive his chest is. He scrabbles at the sheets, not sure what to do with his hands until Zemo catches one and moves it to his shoulder. He clutches Zemo’s shoulder like a lifeline, trying not to grip too hard but it’s so difficult with the way Zemo is teasing both his nipples with his mouth and fingers at the same time.
His hips lift automatically, Zemo’s sharp hips digging into his inner thighs. He fists Zemo’s shirt in both hands and it starts sliding up, baring a stretch of freckled back and Bucky is pretty sure he’s going to die. He tugs on it and it slides up more, the pale skin begging to be tasted and marked in ways he’s never thought about until this moment.
Zemo pulls back and strips his shirt off and Bucky devours him with his eyes, hands hovering forgotten. Zemo’s chest is flushed and lightly furred, and Bucky wants to rub his face in it, wants so much he doesn’t have the words to describe. It must be clear in his face because Zemo’s eyes brighten even more and he tilts his head with a smirk. He opens his mouth, but Bucky manages to get his brain back online and yanks him down again and Zemo lets out a grunt as he impacts Bucky’s body.
Bucky catches his mouth in a messy kiss, desperate to taste Zemo and feel the way his chest hair tickles Bucky’s completely smooth skin. He hauls Zemo up farther and they groan in unison when Zemo grinds their hips together. Bucky resents the pants that are blocking the rest of Zemo and he bites a little at Zemo’s lip. Zemo shudders and thrusts against Bucky.
He strokes his hands down Zemo’s bare back, reveling in the smoothness as it slides under his fingers. He hits Zemo’s pants and tries to wiggle his fingers under, but Zemo’s belt is too snug. He growls a little. Zemo smiles against his mouth and thumbs a nipple just to make Bucky twitch.
“Off,” Bucky demands, tugging at Zemo’s pants.
“As you wish,” Zemo says hoarsely, sliding off the bed to strip his pants off. Bucky wriggles out of his own as fast as possible, never taking his eyes off of Zemo as he reveals more and more mole-flecked skin that Bucky needs under his hands. He’s never felt this much before, never needed anything more than he needs Zemo right now. He doesn’t even have the energy to feel self conscious about being naked and hard in front of someone for the first time, not when he’s focused on how hard Zemo is and how Zemo’s eyes are blown and worshiping Bucky’s body like he’s a treasure.
Bucky spreads his legs for Zemo to crawl between, the slide of skin against skin rolling his eyes back. He’s never…he never knew it could be like this. He’d heard all the talk, but never understood it until now. He wraps his thighs around Zemo’s hips and drags them closer, moaning when their hard cocks rub together. Zemo drops over him again, elbows on either side of Bucky’s head and bites down his neck. Bucky tilts to give him more access, shivering at the bursts of delicious pain and the heat of Zemo’s mouth on his skin.
He digs his hands into Zemo’s sides, tracing random scars and the muscle Zemo hides so well under his toxic little outfits. Bucky had thought he just hated the fancy looks Zemo pulled off so well, but maybe he’s just wanted to rip them off this whole time. Zemo bites his collarbone, tongues along it and Bucky needs that tongue all over his body.
“Please,” he begs breathlessly. He doesn’t know what to ask for, but he trusts anything Zemo does will be amazing.
Zemo releases his neck with a wet pop and sits back on his knees, staring hungrily down at Bucky spread out under him.
“What do you want, James?” he asks hoarsely.
“I don’t know,” Bucky confesses. “More.”
“More,” Zemo says with a heated curl to his vicious little mouth Bucky can’t get enough of.
Bucky nods, watching as Zemo’s pink tongue darts out along his lips. Zemo inches down the bed and Bucky drops his legs from his waist. Zemo leans across him to dig through the side table drawer, pulling out a partially used bottle of lube. Bucky flushes a little as Zemo drops it on the bed by his hips. Zemo catches his blush and pauses.
“We don’t have to-”
“Yes, please ,” Bucky interrupts, desperate to find out more of what he’s been missing.
Zemo pours some on his fingers and strokes along Bucky’s thigh with his other hand. Bucky’s leg falls open automatically under the light touch and Zemo scoots in closer, running his fingers up higher and higher. He slides his lubed up fingers behind Bucky’s balls, trailing lower until he brushes gently across Bucky’s hole and Bucky starts. Zemo circles it lightly, letting Bucky get used to the strange feeling.
He’s a little uncertain about this and Zemo reads it in his face. “Trust me, James,” Zemo says gently, turning his head to kiss the inside of Bucky’s knee without breaking eye contact. “I think you’ll like this, but we can always stop.”
Bucky hesitates, and then nods. He does want to try, even if it sounds weird to have something inside him. Zemo’s smile broadens at his nod and increases the pressure on Bucky’s hole until he works a fingertip inside him. Bucky shifts a little, frowning at the strange pressure.
“Relax, James,” Zemo says gently.
He tries to follow Zemo’s instructions and forcibly relaxes his body. He doesn’t know if he’s doing it right, but Zemo hums approvingly and pushes his finger in further. It’s a weird feeling and Bucky’s not sure he likes it. It’s not really doing anything for him as Zemo works it in and out of him. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s mostly just odd.
Zemo nips at his leg, drawing Bucky’s attention back to him. “Patience,” he says against Bucky’s skin. He nudges a second finger against Bucky and it slides in with a bit of pressure. The lube makes everything move smoothly. He supposes at least Zemo seems to be enjoying this. Zemo is almost entirely focused on the point where his fingers are disappearing into Bucky and his mouth is slightly parted, lips wet and inviting. Just watching Zemo is doing a lot for Bucky right now.
Zemo focuses a little, twists his wrist, and lightning shoots through Bucky and he yelps loudly. Zemo smiles triumphantly and makes the same movement, and Bucky is suddenly drowning in white hot pleasure.
“Wha-” Bucky pants as he writhes under Zemo’s fingers.
“Your prostate,” Zemo says smugly. “I thought you’d be responsive.”
“Oh god,” Bucky moans as the pleasure builds harder and faster than he can handle. He’s chasing it, chasing Zemo’s fingers, thrusting his ass back down on Zemo’s hand shamelessly. He’s so close but it’s just not quite enough, maybe if he could…
Zemo fits a third finger into his hole and the stretch isn’t weird anymore, the pressure is delicious and Bucky wants to be filled and wants to feel Zemo inside him. It's the strangest neediest feeling and he doesn’t know what it means or how to satisfy it.
“Zemo,” Bucky gasps, pleading with his eyes.
The look that crosses Zemo’s face at Bucky’s begging is downright feral and Bucky shivers. He whines when Zemo pulls his fingers out, leaving him clenching around nothing. He watches, fascinated and so turned on as Zemo slicks his hard cock with lube. Zemo pushes up on one of his legs until Bucky takes the hint and pulls it up to his chest with a hand under his knee. He feels more open and exposed this way, but Zemo is circling his hole with the head of his cock and Bucky forgets how to think.
He’s not sure it’ll fit, even if Zemo is so sure and he tries to relax again. Zemo leans into him, the pressure against his hole increasing and increasing until the head pops into him and Bucky sucks in a breath.
“So good, James,” Zemo purrs, and Bucky melts at the praise. “So good for me. Look at you. Gorgeous.”
Zemo pushes in steadily, the stretch increasing until his hips hit Bucky’s ass. Bucky feels so full, exactly what he was searching for before. It’s still a little strange, but he’s adjusting quickly. Zemo is still, eyes scrunched closed as he breathes heavily over Bucky. Bucky takes a risk and runs a hand down his side and Zemo jumps at the touch. He opens his eyes and smiles at Bucky.
The first thrust catches Bucky by surprise - he’s constantly surprised by everything right now - and he scrabbles at the bed, not sure what to do with any of his limbs. He wants to participate but he doesn’t want to throw off the incredible rhythm Zemo’s set.
Zemo pulls Bucky’s leg over his shoulder, tilting his hips up and changing his angle. Bucky lets him rearrange his body, curious about what he’s doing. The next thrust hits his prostate dead on and Bucky fails to stifle a sob. Zemo grins, triumphant, and fucks him relentlessly and dragging across his prostate with every thrust.
The fullness and constant stimulation has Bucky floating on the edge of painful ecstasy and he hooks his other heel behind Zemo’s ass, pulling him in closer. It only takes a few more thrusts until he whites out and screams as he comes on the knife’s edge of pleasure. He clenches around Zemo’s cock automatically and Zemo makes a choked noise and comes deep inside Bucky’s body before dropping bonelessly across his chest, heedless of the mess.
It takes Bucky a long minute to return to earth, his life irrevocably changed. Zemo pats his chest absently, still breathing heavily. He pulls out slowly and Bucky makes a protesting noise as he leaves Bucky empty and leaking cum. It’s such a delicious feeling and Bucky wants more immediately, even though Zemo is obviously not up for a second round yet.
Zemo flops onto his back and folds his arms behind his head.
“They really never used you that way, I guess,” he muses quietly.
“Who?” Bucky asks, turning to face Zemo.
“HYDRA,” Zemo shrugs. “I thought for sure…” he trails off and shakes his head.
“You thought what?” Bucky presses, determined to finally get an answer for the weirdness Zemo seems to carry around.
“A perfectly obedient soldier? I thought for sure they’d have used you, but I could never find proof.”
“Used…they did use me?” Bucky says, confused.
Zemo snorts. “Used you sexually , James.”
Bucky’s brain stalls as that sinks into him. “No!” he exclaims belatedly. “They never would. I was a weapon. They wouldn’t have risked the soldier for that.”
“Okay, okay,” Zemo says placatingly. “I was wrong.”
Now the thought is planted in Bucky’s mind and it won’t leave him alone. He imagines what it would have been like if they had used the soldier like that. He couldn’t say no, he was programmable. He shivers at the thought of what they could have done to him or had him do for decades.
Zemo flicks a look at him. “What’s wrong?”
Bucky shivers again, involuntarily. He doesn’t know how to explain that he’s getting turned on by the thought, and it feels so wrong.
Zemo turns to face him more fully. “You’re getting turned on,” he observes.
Bucky flushes.
A calculating look crosses Zemo’s face. “Is the thought of being commanded and controlled turning you on, James?”
“What if it is?” Bucky says defensively.
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Zemo soothes. “I would be open to exploring that dynamic if you wanted. If you wanted to be used…” he trails off.
Bucky’s mind shuts down completely imagining being dominated and helplessly obedient under Zemo’s control.
“Yes,” he chokes out, face burning red.
“Give me a little to recover,” Zemo says, hungrily scanning Bucky’s naked body like he hadn’t just fucked him to screaming. “I’d be more than happy to help you with this.”