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The seedy pulse of Madripoor—ripe with illegality and those that fit in best amongst the shadows where anything could happen—thrummed around Bucky as he made his way through the streets of Low Town.
The contact he’d been here to meet had given him the info they wanted—the location of a secret Hydra base that him and Zemo could tear to shreds—and he should’ve been making his way back to the safe house Zemo had, but he found himself breathing in the sticky air and letting it cling to his skin instead, as blue, pink, and purple lights flashed in the darkness; various clubs and bars drawing people in like moths to a flame.
He slipped down an alley way behind one of the clubs, and just let his back rest against the brick wall; the music thumped against the wall from the inside and Bucky just took a second to close his eyes and breathe. Mismatch palms flat against the slightly crumbling brick, and his body tense. He was always dangerous, but here in Madripoor he felt it—more than normal.
Maybe because last time he’d been here, he’d been pretending to be a brainwashed soldier again under Zemo’s control. And only him and the Sokovian Baron had realised that beneath the self-disgust and the shame, had been the rush of adrenaline of a fight well won—and even more so—the wet, harsh stab of arousal from the praise.
Zemo had put him in a harness and then had enjoyed setting him loose.
And he was still doing it in a way. Only now, Bucky didn’t grumble or object.
Throughout the confusing twists and turns of their time together since then—Zemo on parole and a team mate as well as a personal nuisance—Bucky had discovered that as well as fighting, he felt the same illicit thrill when he fucked or was fucked by Zemo, too.
He may not be the Baron’s pet Winter Soldier in reality, but they were still inexplicably linked and both of them knew he wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone who hurt Zemo.
Zemo would do the same for him, after all.
They were together, but Zemo didn’t wrap him in any chains Bucky didn’t explicitly ask for.
Take your time, James.
Have some fun, then tell me all about it after.
Bucky read the text and huffed out a laugh.
Zemo told him that every time they split up on a mission—never wanting to hold Bucky back from whatever made him happy, safe in the knowledge that no matter the dalliance, he would always be Zemo’s in the ways that matter—but he’d never taken the man up on the offer.
No one had tempted him.
“Uhh..you alright, mate?”
Bucky flicked his gaze to where the voice had come from; the high-pitched British accent, most at home in the busy London capitol, cutting through the heavy coat of memories he had been lost in. The other man stood slightly nervously; the anxious hunch of his body at odds with his forward question considering the types of people that made Madripoor their home (temporarily or otherwise). He nibbled at his bottom lip with his hands stuffed in his light grey coat pockets, and stared at Bucky with dark eyes that bizarrely looked at him with soft inquisitiveness rather than wise caution.
The man had dark curly hair that brushed his forehead and the tips of his ears, thick eyebrows the squiggled on his face as one side of his mouth quirked up in a sort of smile. He was clean shaven with sharp cheek bones and a strong jaw, had tanned skin, and he had faint circles under his eyes that Bucky recognised from his own history of haunted sleep (whenever he got some that is).
Bucky’s brow furrowed in confusion because despite everything about the man saying that he was suited more to the quiet and calm of a local library rather than the dangers of Madripoor, there was something about him that told Bucky that he shouldn’t underestimate him. Not in a fight, and just generally.
Attractive and dangerous. Bucky’s favourite combination.
“M’fine.”
“You sure? Cos you like you’re sort of hugging the wall, and like, I’ve spent a lot of time doing that—well, not hugging walls exactly—but feeling overwhelmed…out of sync maybe?...so just checking. If you just really like walls, and are taking in the back alley sights, then just ignore me, yeah?”
Bucky snorted, and stepped away from the wall. “You’re kinda hard to ignore—” The man’s mouth parted in surprise at that, but Bucky carried on talking. “—and I like walls to keep buildings standing and to fuck against. Other than that, I have no feelings either way about them. And I’m not overwhelmed, just taking in the delightful filth that is Madripoor.”
“Didn’t realise you’d be this talkative.”
Bucky titled his head (ignoring the internal comparison to Zemo as he did so) at the smooth American voice that replied to him. The man’s posture changed minutely; no longer defensive or like he expected an attack, but ready and able to take someone down if he needed to. One hand no longer curled in his pocket, free to do what was needed, and his eyes sharp like flint rather than soft like melted chocolate.
Bucky had been right about dangerous.
“You know who I am?” He asked, rather than bring attention to the fact that he was speaking to a completely different person than he had been a minute ago.
The man nodded. “A man with your skill set is known throughout the mercenary world, regardless of the fact you didn’t really have a choice in who you killed.”
The plates of Bucky’s Vibranium hand shifted as he flexed his fingers, wondering if he should palm one of the knives hidden on his person. “And you are?”
“Marc.”
Bucky licked his bottom lip and nodded. “And the other guy?”
Marc narrowed his eyes slightly at Bucky’s enquiry, clearly protective of his alter, so Bucky relaxed his shoulders and stepped closer, so he wasn’t hidden in the shadows. He held up his palms to show he was unarmed (or as much as he could be with an actual weapon for an arm), because although he’d been approached by them, Bucky knew he needed to show he had no desire to hurt them if he wanted to speak to the cute, British guy again.
“Oh—uh—I’m Steven. With a V. Nice t’ meet ya.” He fanned his fingers in a cute kind of wave, and Bucky sighed internally at finding another Steve who was clearly going to cause him trouble. If only in the sense that his dick twitched in interest against the zipper of jeans, unsure whether he wanted to wrap Steven in his arms, or wreck him until he cried out his name.
Zemo had said for him to have some fun. Bucky just wondered if one or both of the men in front of him would be interested.
“Bucky. But you already knew that.”
“M—Marc did, I didn’t. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Fucking hell.
No wonder Marc looked ready to attack anyone that came close to his alter in this god forsaken city. Steven was like a puppy in a field full of feral wolves.
“You should be careful who you approach, doll, there are some black-hearted people around. They’d eat you up without a second thought if given the chance.”
Steven blushed and nibbled on his bottom lip again; white teeth pressing into plump skin. Bucky wanted to tug the lip out with his fingers and bite on it himself. Steven looked at the ground, shuffling his feet, as a blush stained his cheeks. His shoes barely an inch from a puddle; the water reflecting the lights of the club’s sign only a few feet away.
“T—That include you?” Bucky raised an eyebrow at the confident stuttering, the movement missed by the other man as he didn’t dare look at Bucky’s face just then. “I can flirt if I want, Marc!” Steven huffed, glaring at the puddle on the floor. Bucky assumed perhaps they could see the other alter when around reflective surfaces, and didn’t dare interrupt the argument. Mainly because Steven looked even more attractive as he flushed with anger. “So what if he knows how to kill people? Did you fucking forget that’s what you did for a living you numpty? Plus… he hasn’t hurt us yet.”
Bucky’s mouth twitched in amusement. “I’m not going to either…not unless you like a bit of pain anyway.” He winked as Steven’s head whipped up to look at him. He bit back a laugh at how quickly the tentative and innocent smile from Steven transformed into a glowering Marc.
“Stop flirting with him.”
“Why…you jealous?” He smirked, crossing his arms as he baited him.
“No, I’m not fucking jealous!”
Bucky ran his tongue over his teeth and grinned wolfishly. “You sound jealous. Or are you being territorial?”
“I’m not being territorial either, asshole. Yes, we’re together—sort of—but he’s free to go after who he wants.”
“But you don’t want him going after me?”
Marc just looked at him like that was a stupid question. Bucky smirked just to annoy him more.
“Don’t worry, babe, I can handle you both. No need to be upset.”
“Aren’t you with the Baron?” Him and Zemo may have made an impression the last time they were in Madripoor, but their determined slaughter of Hydra was also making waves amongst the underbelly of the superhero and criminal world. Hydra liked to think they were prepared, they never were. No matter the traps and ammo they had; there was no winning against an extremely pissed off and vengeful ex-Winter Soldier, and the man he loved at his side.
“I am. He’s not my keeper though. So…you interested?”
Marc’s jaw flexed as he sized Bucky up. He glanced at the puddle and sighed. “I’m only trying to protect you, Steven. Not that you appreciate it.” He grumbled, folding his arms. “I know you can look after yourself—you know I do—but I…I…care about you—no, I’m not saying it again, stop preening, you idiot, or I’ll flush Gus number 54 down the toilet.” Marc threw his hands up in frustration, Bucky watched in amusement; the pair of them as interesting to him as the smirking sonofabitch he went to bed with every night. “Ok, FINE, I wouldn’t do that to the fishy fucker, but it’s my prerogative as someone who shares this body with you, to make sure it’s not going to end up in a ditch because you want to get dicked down by the best assassin of the last fucking century!”
Bucky reached out to touch Marc’s shoulder, and only just stopped himself from jerking back in surprise as Marc rounded on him with fire in his eyes; though from the curling snarl of his lip and the way he suddenly had a knife pressed against Bucky’s throat, he didn’t think it was Marc.
“You hurt them—either of them—I’ll cut your throat before you can take your next breath and dump you on your Baron’s doorstop like the morning’s newspaper. Comprende?”
This alter had a Spanish accent, and was clearly the one that protected both Steven and Marc. Though Bucky had no idea if the pair of them were aware of his existence.
“Got it.” He breathed out; the bob of his throat as he swallowed pressing his skin against the sharp edge of the blade. Going against common sense though, his cock got harder in his jeans instead of wilting under the threat of violence. He had a feeling Zemo would have fun getting to know the three of them if they ever met. “Not gonna hurt them. Only hurt the bad guys now, and you’re not them.”
The Spaniard stared at him intensely, and if Bucky was anyone else, he would’ve felt his palms sweat and his heart thump in panic at the silent interrogation. As it was, he raised his metal hand slowly and wrapped his fingers around the other man’s wrist, one by one. He didn’t squeeze or break bone, just held it there, feeling the steady thump of his pulse under the built-in sensors.
“So you can either kill me now, or accept me at my word.”
They stared at each other for a few moments that felt like they stretched time—almost black meeting steel-blue; both stark in their beauty, flames dancing just below the surface ready to raze everything to the ground if needs be—until the other man nodded. A slight jerk of his head; shadows and multi-coloured lights bouncing over the ridges and lines of his face as he did so.
“You got a name?” He asked as the knife was removed—slightly reluctantly—from his neck.
“Jake.”
“Charmed.” He smirked at Jake. He meant it. “The other two know about you?”
Jake pursed his lips, rubbing his hand across his jaw. “Don’t think so—not entirely anyway. They’re happy together; in perfect harmony now. You’re the first person either of them has shown interest in apart from each other. I’m…” He squinted up at the night sky; Bucky noticed he didn’t look down at the puddle, like he was used to not being an acknowledged part of the system like Marc and Steven. “I’m the last resort. I protect us when the other two idiots can’t.”
“Yeah? What’s so special about you then, apart from your fondness for knives anyway? Marc’s a mercenary right?...or was, from what I can gather. What have you got that he doesn’t?” He kept his voice level, to show he was just curious, not judging.
“Khonsu.”
“….That another alter or some fancy weapon you’ve decided to name like a pet?”
Jake rolled his eyes and sighed in what Bucky thought was annoyance. He wondered if Jake ever spent this much time fronting because he seemed like conversation wasn’t his favourite past time. He wondered if he should feel honoured that not only had Jake not killed him, but he hadn’t disappeared straight away either.
“He’s an Egyptian god. I’m his human Avatar. I do his…. bidding.”
Bucky narrowed his eyes. “He’s not forcing you right? Because I’ve done the whole ‘do other people’s bidding when it’s not your choice’ thing, and it’s not fun.”
“We have an agreement.”
“Okay—” Bucky carded his hand through his hair. “—cos I’ve fought a lot of weird shit, I’ll find a way to fight an actual god if I have to.”
Jake looked at him in confusion as if trying to work out why Bucky would do so, but before he could explain that he just felt strangely protective of all three of them that shared a very attractive body, Jake disappeared and he was facing Steven again.
“Woah, what happened there? You alright, mate?” Steven blinked in confusion, pushing his curls out of his face. Bucky smiled softly, completely enamoured by the gentle man who was protected by two layers of danger and seemed attracted to it as well, judging by the way he had approached Bucky.
He decided not to mention Jake, figuring the alter would make himself known when—and if—he wanted to, so he just answered the second question. “I’m fine. What about you, doll? Am I gonna get to play with you and Marc?”
Steven chuckled nervously, tugging on his jacket. “Bit forward, innit? I mean I know I was flirting, but actually doing is a bit different, right? We haven’t even kissed!”
His dark eyes widened as he finished speaking, as if giving away some secret desire to kiss Bucky, but Bucky didn’t mind. He bit back a smile and stepped closer; reaching up slowly to stroke a thumb across the ridge of Steven’s cheek bone. “Apologies for the oversight.”
He bent his head, giving Steven plenty of time to back away or for Marc—or even Jake—to front instead, but Steven stood there—trembling slightly—and let Bucky press their lips together. He cupped the back of Steven’s head, gently curling his fingers into the curly black locks, and tugged him closer.
He licked at the seam of Steven’s mouth, and slipped his tongue into the wet heat when Steven gasped in surprise. Steven bunched his hands in the front of Bucky’s jacket, and he clung almost desperately to him as Bucky kissed him. Lazy and slow, letting him feel every swipe of his tongue, and the soft caress of skin on skin. He nipped lightly at Steven’s bottom lip like he’d wanted to do before, and grinned at the little kitten mewl that escaped the Brit’s mouth.
Bucky massaged the nape of Steven’s neck with his thumb and sipped at his soft mouth. He hadn’t kissed anyone else but Zemo in over a year, and before that he hadn’t willingly kissed anyone since before World War fucking Two. Zemo often devoured his mouth possessively, kissing him passionately and usually touching every inch of skin he could find as he did so; smirking against Bucky’s lips when Bucky had no choice but to submit to the pleasure he gave him.
Steven’s kisses felt like spring rain; soft, gentle, and refreshing. Opening up under Bucky’s ministrations like a blooming flower, and making Bucky want to see what he looked like under the rays of the sun.
Steven blinked at him when Bucky pulled back, unable to resist wiping his thumb over the spit-slick and swollen curve of his bottom lip. “Well, that was definitely a kiss. Yup, yeah, a kiss that most definitely was. Mmhmm.”
Bucky grinned and scritched his nails over Steven’s scalp, enjoying the way his shivered and arched like a cat.
“I’m not a fucking pet.” Marc growled at him, announcing his arrival to Bucky, even as his body shivered again in pleasure against his will.
“Such a grumpy kitty.” Bucky teased, grabbing both of Marc’s wrists to stop him from punching him. Not that it wouldn’t be fun, but he kind of wanted to kiss him too. See how different his lips tasted when twisted in a frown rather than curved in a smile.
“You’re an asshole.”
“You want me anyway.” Bucky dared him to deny it.
Marc glared at him, and then surged forward, crashing their mouths together. Marc pushed him back until Bucky’s back hit the wall. He let out a grunt at the impact, and nipped at Marc’s mouth in rebuke. Marc kissed him hard; like he wanted Bucky to know it was him and not Steven he was kissing—like he could forget.
His hands found Marc’s hips; fingertips teasing the warm skin above the waistband of his jeans as they slid under the hem of his t-shirt. Marc chose to grasp Bucky’s face now his hands were free; holding him still as he sucked the breath from his lungs, his thumbs stroking the underside of Bucky’s jaw, pressing against his throat just to make him even more breathless.
Bucky pulled him closer and rolled his hips; pressing the hard length of his cock against Marc’s belly. He felt the other man’s dick throb against his hip.
“Fucking hell.” Steven moaned, tearing his mouth from Bucky’s. His thigh was slotted in between Bucky’s own as Bucky moved them slightly so they could press even closer together, and he liked the way Steven cupped his face as if he was something precious.
Only Zemo had ever done that to him before.
“Want me to stop?” Bucky asked, even as he pressed his thigh against Steven’s dick, squeezing his ass encouraging him to rub up against him.
“N—No. S’good. Bit overwhelming, but good.” He sucked in a breath but smiled at Bucky. “Ah—fuck—what are you doing?”
Bucky nosed at the Steven’s neck, and licked at the hint of sweat that clung to his tanned skin. “Trying to see if I can get you to come in your jeans. What are you doing, doll?”
Steven whimpered at the friction from Bucky’s thick thigh rubbing against his aching cock. “T—Trying not to come in my jeans?” He hiccupped out a laugh, and tilted his head so Bucky could nip and suck love bites into his flesh.
“Yeah? Feel good?”
Steven nodded and moaned; the noise going from a high-pitched whine to a lower, deep rumble. Bucky wasn’t surprised to see the sharpened slant of those thick eyebrows indicating it was Marc he was kissing and touching.
“For someone who keeps trying to deny wanting this, you sure are joining in quite a lot.” Bucky murmured the words into Marc’s neck; huffing out a strangled laugh as Marc squeezed his clothed dick in retaliation.
“Steven keeps telling me to have some fun and pushing me to the front. He’s big on sharing. Often oversharing too, to random strangers, but this—he—ah—” Bucky gripped Marc’s ass in one hand and brought the other to the front; popping open Marc’s fly so he could palm is dick under his boxers. “—in this he wants us both to enjoy it.”
Bucky licked a wet stripe along the sharp line of Marc’s jaw. “Yeah? Which one of you is going to come then? Cos your dick feels hot and hard in my palm, like it’s not gonna take much for you to make a mess everywhere, so tell me….who’s name should I whisper as I encourage you to let go, hmm? Yours or Steven’s?”
Bucky watched as Marc’s eyes fluttered in pleasure. He bit his lip as his hips bucked as Bucky dragged his nail over his leaking slit; thumbing at the swollen and slick head of his cock. His brow furrowed like he was having a discussion in his head—taking Bucky’s question seriously—and Bucky was happy to wait. He pumped Marc’s cock slowly, encouraging beads of pre-cum to drip down the shaft to make the slide of his palm easier; breathing in his musk of arousal as he rested against the brick wall.
Marc’s face eventually softened and his mouth parted in open pleasure. He opened his eyes, and Bucky smiled softly seeing that despite the fact that Marc wanted to protect Steven, he was letting the more gentle one of them have the fun of letting go this time.
“Looks like I’m gonna be whispering Steven then, huh?”
Steven nodded. “With a V.”
Bucky chuckled, because Steven was adorable and sexy at the same time and he didn’t seem to realise, and sped up his hand. Steven curled towards Bucky’s chest as Bucky twisted his wrist on the upstroke, and then he was sobbing out Bucky’s name as his hips jerked, and his cock spurted sticky white all over Bucky’s wrist.
“Such a good boy, Steven. That’s it, let it all go. Give me all of your come, doll.”
“Christ. Shit.” Steven panted out against Bucky’s shoulder, the aftermath of his release rippling through him. Bucky brought his clean hand up to stroke his hair. “You’re a bit good at that, aren’t ya?”
Bucky shook his head fondly, and kissed him on the side of the head. He pushed him back gently, just so he could pull his hand out from his boxers; his scarred and calloused knuckles splattered in ropes of pearly white.
Steven looked at his hand, flicking his gaze from it to Bucky’s face and back, and then tentatively grasped it bringing it to his mouth. Steven lapped at his own come, cleaning Bucky’s hand until his tongue just rasped against skin, and then he smiled bashfully as he shuffled, doing up his trousers.
“Not normally that kinky. Marc’s normally the one for cuffs and shit—” Steven fiddled with his jacket in embarrassment. Bucky looped his arms around his waist because he didn’t want him to run away. “—so not sure what came over me.”
Bucky kissed him, smirking at the surprised squeak that escaped Steven’s mouth. “I liked it. Don’t worry.”
Steven nodded his head. “Alright. If you say so.” He looked down at where Bucky’s cock strained painfully against his jeans. “You want some help with that?”
“I’ve got to be getting back.”
“Ah right. Yeah. To your… Baron?”
Bucky nodded. “Zemo. He’s a smug bastard, but I happen to like that.” He rearranged his dick so it wasn’t being completely strangled by his clothing, then pushed away from the wall. “Want to come with? I know he’d love to meet you both.”
“Uhh…” Steven looked down at the puddle (Bucky figured it was easier to speak to each other if they could see one another, but he wasn’t sure how exactly their system worked). “Yeah alright.” He looked at Bucky again. “Marc said, and I quote, ‘fuck knows why we’d want to hang round with two assholes, but sure’. He means assholes in the affectionate way…I think. At least I do—if I called you an asshole—which I’m not gonna. Unless you act like one.”
Bucky laughed in delight, and curled his arm around Steven’s shoulder, leading him out of the alley way. “Come on. You can meet Zemo, and then if you still want to, you can help me with the problem in my pants.” He bent his head so his breath tickled Steven’s ear. “Because of the serum I can even stay hard after coming, so you can both help if you like.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
The pained murmur was said with a British accent, but Bucky was sure the mixture of arousal and exasperation wasn’t just Steven, but Marc too.
He was going to have a lot of fun with the pair of them, and he knew Zemo would too.
Who knows, maybe if he cracked out his favourite knife collection he might be able to encourage Jake to join him for a little sexy siesta too some time.
He lived in dangerous hope, anyway.
For an ex-assassin who was in love with an ex-terrorist, it was the only way to live.