Work Text:
The asset management manual has been updated.
If you asked Rumlow, this has been one of the stranger ideas H.Y.D.R.A has had, right up with the bionic spy cat.
Apparently some fuckwad thought it would be good to get some new protocols for the asset, went all the way to propose permanent change. And Pierce agreed. This cements Rumlow’s theory that there’s something wrong with the higher ups, possibly related to the lead in the base’s paint.
When he tells Rollins, he’s trying not to laugh. They both sober up when they realize that someone’s gonna have to sacrifice themselves to get cuddled. By the fucking murder bot. For the good of H.Y.D.R.A.
The logic is admittedly, pretty good. Cuddling the asset leads to associating completing missions with happiness and less pain. It becomes dependent on those warm fuzzy feelings.
This only becomes a problem when Rumlow realizes that a few things.
A. No one has touched the asset other than the techs for years.
B. They just programmed this as a need in the asset.
No trial run.
He needs to shoot Pierce in the dick. If he survives lovely dovey asset hours.
Inevitably, he draws the short straw on the mission. It goes off without a single problem. In fact, the asset performs much better than usual, despite Rollins keeping it up teaching it how to play rock paper scissors last night. (The asset picks scissors, then rock, then paper every time, despite them trying to say that it’s not in order of how efficient it would be to kill someone).
“So, you and big guy over there are gonna snuggle up, right?” Shithead himself, Rollins. Anderson barks out a laugh like a chihuahua with bronchitis, and everyone else giggles like schoolgirls.
“Yup”
In the car back, they give them the back row. For efficiency. Fuck that.
“Asset requires enhanced physical contact in approximately 2.5 minutes to uphold protocol.”
“Right… uh”
He scooches closer to it. It seems unaffected.
“How much skin to skin contact is required?”
“Approximately 15% or more. Equivalent to being shirtless and touching”
Someone wolf whistles in the front seat. He flips them the bird with no enthusiasm.
“Alright then. Take your shirt off asset” it starts working on the absurd amount of buckles its shirt has.
Rumlow hesitates for a moment, decides to fuck it, and strips off his shirt too.
By the time the fabric is over his head, the asset is shirtless. And staring at him. Does it ever blink? Rumlow ends up awkwardly leaning towards it. The second their skin touches, the asset sighs, relaxes a bit in its chair.
They really fucked you up, huh?
It’s honestly a little cute. Like a puppy. A puppy that is covered in blood and just killed ten men, but a puppy all the same. He (deep in the recesses of his brain) sort of wants to cuddle it now. That’s probably the nine month dry spell talking to him.
The asset moves to sit closer, intertwining limbs, their boots touching.
Rollins turns around in the front seat, smirking like a five year old. “So how long are you and loverboy over there gonna be feeling eachother up for?”
“One hour, however by the thirty minute mark physical contact can be reduced to two percent, equivalent to holding hands”
God he’s gonna get so much shit for this.
“How much longer do we have until the thirty minute mark”
“Twenty one minutes and fourty seven seconds”
“…fuck me”
He doesn’t mean it like that, but apparently whoever programmed the terminator last forgot to tell him about the concept of swearing. The asset lunges at him, tries to pin him down on the bench seat. Ruts at his hip for a few moments, launches adrenaline though him.
“Stop! Stop! Holy fucking shit.”
“The asset apologizes, and submits itself for disciplinary action”
“No. Just go to sleep or something”
Who taught it this shit. Who can I kill about this…How the fuck does it fall asleep so fast.
Still on him, by the way, and pinning him down with its overly heavy arm.
“Rollins. We have got to talk about what you’re teaching the asset to do. This has to violate the Geneva convention or something”
He cranes his head up, sees Rollins and the rest of the guys, all of their faces either flushed or pale. Shocked. Funny look on the STRIKE alpha team.
“I didn’t teach it that shit. Did you?”
They go around in a circle, denying teaching the asset to fuck. Either someone’s lying or- holy fuck it’s Pierce. Probably why he was willing to potentially get them killed to make the asset more comfortable with skin to skin.
Oh. Eww. The asset snores quietly seemingly oblivious to them all coming to the same conclusion.
Anderson and Higgins exchange money in the front of the limo. Rumlow spots more than one hundred dollar bill.
Only what? Fifteen more minutes until they can get down to holding hands? It’s fine.
In an attempt to get more comfortable and try to make it look like the asset didn’t fall asleep while humping him, he shifts a little. Yup.
Okay then. I didn’t even know it could get hard.
Still. The fucking winter soldier is hard as a rock against its handlers thigh. And snoring. Like a fucking chainsaw. Rollins is still giggling in the front seat. “Oh shut up”
“Rumlow and Winter sitting in a tree F-U-C-K-I-N-G” it’s tough to believe that they’ve had a few inspirational military ads made about them.
“Are you a five year old girl? Or just stupid?”
“Jury’s still out” Rollins clicks his tongue and turns to Blackwell, talking loudly about hockey. Neither of them seem to know anything about the game.
The drive can’t be over soon enough.
They get to the safe house, and Rumlow gets the asset to wake up. It yawns. Half of the squad flinch thinking about what Pierce has probably done with that mouth. Rumlow finds it kinda cute. Am I turning into a teenage girl? Next I’m gonna be painting my nails and talking about that boy group, backstreet direction or something.
“I am never leaving any of you chucklefucks alone with the asset ever again” He pronounces.
The asset looks at him. It smiles. No. Not thinking about that. Thank you and good fucking night.
The rest of the day passes mostly normally. Rollins is a bitchy little shit. Everyone else is on edge. Anderson brings up Pierce and gets tackled by Blackwell and that one newbie he can’t remember the name of.
All they have to do is lay low for a bit. Sleep, eat, piss. Listen to Rollins jerk off. Seriously, the guy has a problem.
The asset is fucking following him. He does normally, since he's the primary handler on this mission. The crazy fuck is closer to him than normal. Like, stepping-on-your-heels-toddler-
following-his-mother close. Also? Still fucking hard.
The asset speaks, with a voice that sounds unused. Like he hasn’t made his own words for years. “The asset is… malfunctioning?”
Rumlow knows what he’s talking about, but on a Hail Mary, he asks what’s wrong.
The asset points down. At his own dick. “Why…? Why does that happen?”
Jesus fucking Christ. Did the techs microwave it’s higher reasoning?
“It’s uh, adrenaline. It’ll go down on its own, just leave it alone”
The asset sets his hand down, rocks back and forth for a bit, stares at its own dick trapped in its tac gear.
“Yup, good job buddy”
The fucking Winter Soldier (!!!) gasps, tenses a little, and watches as its dick jumps, and watches as a stain on its tac gear spreads.
Holy shit. It jizzed in its pants. If anyone finds out I’m gonna be fucking killed. Rumlow feels the thought creep up on him like a serial killer in a shitty b-movie. Does that happen every time someone praises it?
“What. What happened?” The soldier looks fuck-drunk, but confused on why it feels that way. It’s an uncomfortable look on his face.
“…so when a boy becomes a man- when a- holy shit. I’m gonna be killed”
“Permission to speak freely?” Sure, how can this get worse. Rollins is gonna skin me alive.
“Yup”
“The asset is… not-sad. It does not know the name for this feeling. It wishes to feel more of this feeling.”
“Good. You feel good.”
“Good… the asset felt good when there was the required skin to skin time. It… liked? It liked when the primary handler touched it. It does not feel these feelings when others touch it.”
Holy Christ on a cracker. Does it have a crush on me?
“Let’s just sleep, okay?”
“The asset requests to sleep in the same area as the main handler. For protection”
Yeah I’ll fucking bet.
“Sure”
The asset ends up sleeping in the twin bed with him. It is deeply uncomfortable. And sticky. And overall just kinda disgusting.
When Rollins finds them spooning (he is NOT the little spoon, Rollins is a lying liar) in the morning, he laughs so hard he sprays oatmeal at all of them. It comes out of his nose.
The next few missions go disturbingly well. Better and better, actually. There are no more unfortunate emissions on the asset’s part (although it does get hard every time it gets a hug). Rumlow starts teaching it how to talk about its own feelings. It definitely has a crush on him. But worse than that is Rumlow thinks he’s getting one too. When he jerks off, flashes of metal with red stars play behind his eyes. The look on the assets face when it came. Surprised, but happy. Like it couldn’t believe it. Cute.
Eventually it’s passed down that two cuddle buddies are needed for the asset. For two fucking hours. Less skin to skin contact, but Rumlow thinks that’s just because they’ve worked it down. Rollins gets to be cuddle buddy part 2.
Pretty much the moment they get it to the safe house (still splattered in blood by the way) the asset gets hard.
“Does it do that every time?”
“Every goddamn time. I have no idea what’s going on in it’s brain.”
“Have you ever… uhh. Let it let off some steam?”
“…no?” Rumlow mutters “sick fucking freak” (he pointedly does not think of the first time, when the asset came)
Rollins flops down on the bed, carrying the asset with him, turns towards it, points at its hard on and asks: “do you know what that’s for?”
The asset shakes its head. “Pierce uses it and the body sometimes. More now. It hurts. The asset does not think it likes it. The asset thinks- it thinks- it would be good if the primary handler would use it”
Rollins looks at it like a shark looks at fish. Like he can smell blood from a hundred miles away. “Yeah? What does he do with you?”
“Pierce puts things inside the asset. Makes it bleed. Touches it” Holy shit. I need to kill Pierce.
“Alright alright asset, give me and Rollins a bit of privacy”
Rumlow grabs Rollins, shoves him in a corner. “What the actual FUCK are you angling for here? Huh? Getting your rocks off making it relive the shit Pierce does to it?”
“Well I’m hoping we’ll both be able to get our rocks off. All three of us actually. Come on. It’s still a person. It could kill us if it didn’t like it. Let it have a good time, you know, live a little.”
Rumlow considers it. The asset’s hitched breaths, making it come harder than it did last time. Maybe rubbing up against it a little. Getting it in his mouth. Fucking it.
“Fuck you. Fine.”
The assets still sitting on the bed, dick hard and looking at himself. Maybe a bit scared of what they have planned for it.
“Rumlow? How do we wanna do this?”
“Let’s just get it off first, get it comfortable”
Rumlow sits down next to it on the bed, pats it on the head, feels it lean into him moaning in the back of its throat. Christ, it shouldn’t be this touch starved. It’s been getting state sanctioned cuddles for christs sake.
“You wanna take your pants off, buddy? Rollins snorts but Rumlow ignores him. The asset nods frantically, struggles at its thousand straps and buckles until it’s finally out and- holy shit.
Rumlow and Rollins look at eachother (only a little fear in their eyes. Hopefully) Why the fuck isn’t it wearing underwear. Who dressed it like this?
The assets cock is… pretty average to be honest. Cute. Bright pink and leaking more than Rumlow ever does. Maybe on the smaller side, but not by much. Perked up towards its stomach, practically begging for Rumlow to taste it, lick it, god he could probably get all of it in his mouth- Nope. Not a fag. And even if he actually did want to suck it, the asset doesn’t count, it isn’t a person. It’s not gay.
The asset is rigid under his hands, looking a bit scared. “Come on baby, you can touch it, nobody’s gonna hurt you”
The asset shakes its head and shys away.
“Aww, don’t be scared” Rollins cajoles.
“I’ll touch it”
Rumlow strokes over the expanse of its bare thigh, strokes over the hair, watches the muscles play under its skin. The asset rolls his head back, pants wet on the back of Rumlows mouth, twitches up into Rumlows hands.
He reaches out, runs his finger over the shaft of its dick, feels how feather-soft it is, listens to it pant and cry out and- it comes, spitting white all over itself and his hand, moaning like it's the first time.
The asset gasps, looks at him with wild eyes and pleads “I’m sorry sir, I’m so sorry. It didn’t mean to do it.”
“Do what?”
“Come, sir. Without your permission”
Rollins interrupts their moment (rude) “Oh come on asset, it’s fine. We don't mind, right Rum-Rum?”
Pet names? Holy shit, is Rollins high or something?
“Uhh. Yeah it’s fine asset”
Its still so fucking hard. Like it didn’t come at all.
Without his knowledge or permission, Rumlow’s hand strokes over the zipper of his tac gear, twitching pleasure up his spine. Hey, at least his dicks not out, unlike Rollins-
Holy fucking shit. No wonder he jacks off so much. He’s probably never been able to stick that fucking monster in a chick.
It’s not like he’s gay for Rollins dick. He just… admires it. And wants it. Not in a gay way. He just wants to look at it.
In a straight way.
“Asset. Get on your knees in front of me” the asset practically slides in front of Rollins, face close to that magical dick.
Wait. No. Not gay.
Smack. Rollins slaps his dick onto the assets face, smears its lips shiny. A wet, pink tongue slips out to lick at its lips, staring up at Rollins though hooded eyes.
Rumlow should probably feel like a third wheel. It feels more like watching a sunset, or an amazing movie, really. They are an absolute picture together. God, he wishes he could have this every night, all the goddamn time.
Maybe he’s a bit gay. But not gay gay. Just gay for these two people. Really only one person if you think about it.
In for a penny, in for a pound.
Rumlow gets his dick out, teases the head for a bit, shockingly feeling less inferior than he thought he would, revels in the scene in front of him.
Rollins glances over, eyes lidded, sweating down his neck, thrusting into the assets throat.
“Oh come on, you’re making me sad out there all alone, get over here”
Closer, closer, standing right next to them, leaning against the wall next to Rollins.
“I mean, it’s not fair if it’s just me, right? We should share the asset.”
Rollins looks into his eyes, worries at the cut on his lip, waits for Rumlow to nod slightly. When he does, they shuffle a little closer, both looking at the assets mouth, wet. Rumlow's hand is in its hair before he knows, ruffling greasy dark strands just to watch it moan and drool.
The asset moves a little closer to them, sticks its tongue out, hungry for it. When Rumlow's dick touches the softness of its mouth it feels like a revelation, like he’s been reborn. Wires cut and house remodeled.
“Yeah it feels good right?”
Rumlow makes a deeply embarrassing sound, thrusting into the asset's mouth like he can’t control it. This is gonna be over so fucking quickly.
He shoots down the asset's throat, barely 30 seconds into the blowjob.
“Woah, it’s been a long time huh?”
“Fuck you” Rumlow pants while attempting to recover.
Rollins grabs him, and pushes them into a bruising kiss. Holy shit. What the fuck.
It’s a good kiss. Amazing actually, even though Rollins mouth tastes like the shitty chocolate in their MREs and Rumlow seems to have forgotten everything about kissing that he’s learned. At this point he knows he can touch Rollins, so he does, grasps down where he can barely see, touches up on spit-wet soft skin and feels for the head, motions for the asset to suck again. Okay, break for air, It’s not a very long break, hip to hip with the assets spit dripping down his fingers, feeling Rollins lose it, grunt into his mouth, feel his dick jump in his hand.
They both end up collapsing on the ground together, the asset crouched over them.
“We have to clean this up. The rest of the team’ll kill us” He's never felt so grateful for Rollins’ seemingly infinite supply of wet wipes. They’re still damp and maybe a little smelly, but at least no one’s gonna think they fucked the asset.
Speaking of the asset, it’s practically making heart eyes at him and Rollins. “Asset” Rollins says “you need to not tell anyone what happened here, okay? Otherwise me and Rumlow will get in trouble”
Why the fuck is he talking to him like he’s a person. Oh god. I’m talking about it like it’s a person too.
Either way, the asset nods, grins at them (too many teeth still but it’s getting better) and says “the asset agrees with this statement. It also requests that Rumlow and Rollins repeat this with it regularly”
Yeah, everything is gonna be fine.
Everything is pretty much immediately not fine. The asset won’t fucking leave them alone. No matter how many times the techs wipe it and reprogram it, it still refuses to part with Rumlow and Rollins. It’s performance in the field is down, unless they’re on the team, then it’s better than ever.
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what might’ve happened. At least not for the higher-ups, who are definitely taking advantage of the asset. Unlike you? You’re taking advantage of it too, fuckwad. Rumlow pictures crushing his conscience under a hydraulic press until it stops moving. It’s a very relaxing exercise.
Either way, life’s been getting better. Rollins is still a bitchy little shit, but nicer. They got the asset to learn how to talk about itself and others with slightly more emotional maturity. There’s a lot of sex.
Rumlow is very close to completely destroying his gag reflex with how much he has the assets dick in his mouth. It’s like a honeymoon period. If a honeymoon was between two murderers and the terminator with brain damage.
Eventually the asset’s field performance gets so bad away from them that it draws attention from the really high up scientists.
They take away cuddle time first, since the asset has started to hurt people who aren't them who touch it. The techs take the asset away for a long time, to wipe it. The lights in the base flicker for a few hours, way longer than usual for a wipe.
When the asset comes back, it’s clearly had a deeper wipe than normal. A “total reset” apparently. But, when they get it back on the team, there’s still a flicker of recognition in its eyes. Yeah, maybe it’ll be fine after all.