Chapter Text
Steve’s head jerks up as he hears a thud against the side of the warehouse. He narrows his eyes. He’s been doing some of the books for Tony, ended up working late, and now fucking what? He rubs his fingers over his temples, then throws back the bourbon he’s been nursing.
“Rhodey?” he calls.
There’s no reply. He sighs, straightens his tie, picks up his hat and fastens his gun holster. He stands up from the desk. Listens. Nothing. He takes his gun from the holster and walks out of the office onto the warehouse floor. It’s dimly lit, it’s the middle of the night, after all, and there’s no one around but Steve and the guys on guard duty. Crates of moonshine fill the warehouse, throwing shadows, and Steve narrows his eyes, listens, sniffs. Nothing. Until.
He freezes at the sound of the safety of a gun being switched off, right behind his head.
“Drop it.”
Fuck. How did Barnes do that? Steve’s hearing was good, and he hadn’t heard a thing. Hadn’t scented a thing. He’s right behind him. Steve breathes in deep. Nothing.
“I said drop it, Rogers,” Barnes growls in his ear.
“You want a fight, Barnes?”
“I didn’t start this fight, your boss did. I got the place surrounded. Drop it. It’s clear, come out,” Barnes calls and Steve swears as he sees five of Barnes’s guys come out from behind the crates with those fucking Tommy Guns. He’s got no chance.
Steve sighs and drops his gun on the floor.
Tony’s gonna be so fucking mad. Steve swears again.
Barnes gives a low laugh behind him. It shudders down Steve’s spine.
“Well, least you’re not that stubborn Rogers. At least you know when you’re beat.”
Steve bristles, keeps his eyes on those guns and keeps still.
“Want us to start loading the crates on the truck, boss?” one of the guys asks.
“I dunno,” Barnes says thoughtfully behind Steve. Steve can feel his whole body tensing at having him so close behind him. He tries to relax, to act unaffected. Barnes’s breath is almost hitting Steve’s glands and it’s making him uneasy. “Stark’s really been overstepping lately. I think we might take something more valuable. Take half the crates… and Rogers. Tie him up properly, gag him, bag him, and take him to the basement.”
Oh, fuck.
“I’m not gonna tell you shit,” Steve says.
Barnes laughs, gestures to the warehouse.
“Does it look like I need intel from you?”
Then he’s smacked over the head and the world goes fuzzy and black.
*
“Oh, he’s awake,” a voice says as Steve blearily opens his eyes.
“Lucky us.”
Steve groans as a boot connects with his ribs. His hands are tied, but nothing else, and he jerks himself over onto the other side, manages to get himself to his knees before a fist connects and he goes back down.
“You reckon the boss will let us play with him all night?”
“Nah, said we gotta get this moonshine to the buyer.”
“Figures. Hey, stay fucking down, idiot.” The guy stamps down on his chest and Steve splutters. “God, this guy.”
“Maybe we should have tied him all the way up.”
“Why, you think you can’t take Rogers in a fight?”
“Course I fucking could.”
It’s then Steve realizes who’s talking, his head still throbbing from the blow, and he laughs, pulling himself back up onto his knees and jutting his chin out.
“Really? Brock? You scrawny fuck, you think you could take me in a fist fight?”
Brock stares down at him.
“Hey, fuck you, Rogers, I said stay down.”
Steve does, deliberately falling onto his back to start subtly working at the rope.
“Hey,” a voice calls down into the basement, “boss says we’re moving out in ten.”
“Ah, fuck,” the other guy says, the one that Steve doesn’t recognize. “You’re lucky we’re going easy on you tonight.”
“Fuck you.” He glares at Brock.
Brock’s boot catches Steve in the face.
He tries to get up again, but his head’s spinning and there’s another boot on his back.
“Hey,” he hears Barnes’s voice. “Thought I told you to tie him up, fucksake, gotta do everything myself?”
There’s another blow to Steve’s head and the world goes dark again.
*
He wakes blearily, this time tied to a chair.
“You have a nice sleep, darlin’?” Barnes’s voices brings it all flooding back. Fuck. He opens his eyes.
The image of Barnes comes slowly into focus. He’s sitting right in front of him, their knees almost touching. Barnes is wearing his black three piece suit still. He’s probably the most casual Steve has ever seen him. His top two shirt buttons are undone, his bright tie loosened, and he isn’t wearing his hat. Barnes’s hair is shorter than Steve imagined, with the sides shaved, and, fuck, Steve’s head hurts. His sides hurt. He has a feeling they must have kept kicking him after he passed out.
“Huh?” Barnes prompts when Steve doesn’t reply.
“Fuck you,” he spits back at him. He can taste dried blood in his mouth. It’s familiar.
His eyes flick around the basement. It’s empty aside from the two chairs, and dark. There’s a bare lightbulb hanging above them. Steve’s sitting on a metal chair, rope around his arms and chest, around his ankles. Fuck.
Barnes breathes in from the fat cigar in hand and blows it out in Steve’s face.
Steve glares at him. Hopes it’s going to hide his unease as he realizes that there’s none of Barnes’s guys down here. Being in a room alone with Barnes is deeply unsettling. His cool grey eyes stare into Steve’s. He’s wearing black leather gloves, like he always does. He’s sure that’s what led to the rumors of him having a metal arm, but Steve’s just as sure that’s nothing more than a ridiculous story. Maybe he just gets cold hands.
Barnes leans his forearms on his knees and smirks at Steve.
“You feel like talking to me, Stevie?”
“No, thank you,” Steve says and Barnes grins at him.
“That’s a little rude, don’t you think?”
“I thought you said you didn’t need my intel, that you didn’t need me to talk?”
Barnes bares his teeth at him a little and, oh, yeah, he was an Alpha after all. Even if Steve couldn’t scent him.
“Well, maybe I just thought you could be a bit more useful than a punching bag.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
Barnes glares at him. Steve feels a weird shiver down his spine.
“Stark was infringing upon my territory. I supply the moonshine on the east side, he knows that. You know that.”
Steve shrugs.
“Maybe my moonshine’s just better. Maybe they asked for us specifically.” He allows himself a cocky glare at Barnes.
“Oh… is it your magic recipe, huh?”
Shit. Should he have told Barnes that?
“Did you try some?” he tries to deflect.
“No, you think I should?” he gives Steve a playful smile that’s almost as disconcerting as his glower.
“Knock yourself out, bet you took enough of it.”
“Hey, Clint!” Barnes yells and the door opens.
“Yeah, boss? You want me to get you the pliers?”
“No, get me some of this idiot’s moonshine.”
“Yes, boss.”
“So, how long you been working for the traitor Tony Stark?” Barnes asks Steve. “Feel like you’ve been on the scene a while now.”
“5 years. And you’re the traitor, everyone knows that.”
“Are you loyal to Tony?” Barnes asks.
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Unfortunately?”
“Well, if you’re bringing pliers into it, I feel like my loyalty’s gonna be unfortunate for me, yes.”
Barnes laughs.
“You’re funny. Maybe I really will keep you as a prize. It’s a shame, I reward loyalty like that, you know, Steve.”
Clint comes in and brings Barnes the liquor.
“So does Tony.”
“Well, I guess they just don’t make loyalty like they used to, then.” Barnes uncorks the bottle and upends it, taking an impressively long gulp. He brings the bottle down and swallows, looks pleasantly surprised. “I would have protected the family with my life, and that asshole betrays me and takes it all from under my feet. Just cos daddy liked me better than him… I never even wanted…”
Steve stares and Barnes stops talking.
“You know, that is pretty good, I’ll give you that.” He swipes a tongue over his lips and Steve… feels uncomfortable. “Clint. Leave.”
Clint scurries out.
Barnes walks closer to Steve, looming over him, and Steve thinks he’s about to punch him. He braces himself, but nothing comes.
“Close your eyes.”
“What?”
“Close your eyes.”
Steve does and feels liquid pouring down his face before it abruptly stops.
He splutters and shakes his head to try and get rid of it.
“You’ll thank me when all those cuts don’t get infected. Made a right mess of your pretty face.”
Steve blinks at the weird comment.
“You know that’s what they say about you, Steve, that you’re the pretty one. I’m sure I even caught Wanda ogling at you before.”
Steve has no idea what to say to that.
Barnes grabs him by the chin, turns his face one way and then the other.
“Maybe you could have uses other than a punching bag.”
Steve stares at him. The sentence isn’t any less unnerving the second time. Was Barnes suggesting he was going to whore him out to his own Omega?
“W…what?”
Barnes laughs.
“You’re a bit slow on the uptake, huh?”
When Steve still continues to look completely blank, Barnes leans down and rips open the few buttons that are remaining on Steve’s shirt. Looks up and down his chest.
“Oh, ouch. Ruining that lovely view, all those bruises. You think you’d like an upgrade from punching bag, Steve?”
“To… what? To be with… your Omega?” Steve’s sure he’s going to get punched in the face for guessing wrong.
Barnes just laughs.
“Maybe I could lend you to her occasionally but that wasn’t really what I was suggesting. You think Wanda’s my Omega?”
“Y… yes?” Steve is so confused right now. He thinks he might have taken too many blows to the head. Wanda was always on Barnes’s arm, draped in fur coats and pearls, her hair in perfect curls. How could she be anything else?
Barnes laughs low and Steve feels uncomfortable with him looming over him like that.
“God, maybe this is perfect,” Barnes says to himself, considering. “Turning Stark’s right hand guy into my bitch.”
Steve stares, finally catching up with what Barnes is getting at and not liking it one bit.
“I guess Wanda’s more like… my display Omega,” Barnes says, “Yeah? You getting it now?” he laughs at the look on Steve’s face. “Yeah. Well, maybe think about it for a bit.”
He runs his hand through Steve’s hair and Steve winces as his fingers go over a tender bump on his head from his earlier beatings. Barnes steps closer, pulling Steve’s face into his crotch. Steve tries to pull away but the pain in his head is too much. He can feel Barnes’s half hard dick against his cheek. He squirms but can’t help but breathe in Barnes’s scent and, yeah. There it was. Even his Alpha scent had a weird, terrifying edge to it. Steve doesn’t realize what he’s doing until Barnes laughs and Steve realizes he was scenting him, intrigued by the weird lilt his scent has, not like anything he’s ever breathed in before.
Barnes lets his head go and Steve jerks away. Barnes leans down to Steve’s neck and Steve can’t help the gasp he lets out. He’s no prude, but Alphas just didn’t do that to each other. Barnes takes a firm hold of the back of Steve’s neck and Steve feels fucking strange. He tries to pull back, but Barnes’s hand feels weirdly firm, stronger than it should, through that leather glove.
“What? You scented me,” Barnes says, “only fair.”
Only Barnes doesn’t just scent him, dragging his nose up Steve’s neck, over his gland, he licks.
Steve lets out something between a yelp of objection and a gasp.
Barnes chuckles, holds him tight with that gloved hand, and starts nibbling at his gland. Steve tries to pull away again, trying not to let a moan escape. He figures it’s to be expected, it’s just sensation, a mouth, it’s not like his body can tell those lips belong to an Omega or an Alpha.
“D… d… don’t…”
Barnes ignores him and starts to suck and Steve feels a little light-headed, feels blood rushing to his dick. Fuck. No. That’s not fucking right. He jumps as he feels Barnes’s other hand on his dick, squeezing lightly, and Steve gasps.
“No, d… don’t.”
“You like that, sweetheart?” Barnes purrs in his ear.
Steve finds he can’t talk for a second, his brain refusing to work.
“No!”
Barnes laughs.
“Uhuh. Not at all, huh?”
Steve just hasn’t had sex in a long time. He’s sure this is all this is. He’s so busy with work, it’s not like he had any time for that, and even if he did, he could never trust Omegas since he started the job with Tony. They never wanted him, or, maybe they did, they sure seemed attracted to him, but they wanted everything else. The association with Tony and his gang, the status, the money. Sometimes they were spies, sent for Barnes or whoever, and Steve just didn’t have the patience for it.
“Oh,” he gasps completely involuntarily as Barnes undoes his fly and wraps his gloved hand around Steve’s dick. It feels weird. “Fuck, don’t, I… I’m not…”
“You sure?” Barnes smirks at him, dangerous, and Steve has never been terrified while someone had their hand around his dick before and this is not okay.
“Yes!”
“Oh, okay,” He says, letting go and stepping back, and Steve lets out a groan of frustration.
Barnes laughs at him, takes another gulp of the moonshine and goes to walk out.
Steve swears, looking at his now fully hard dick in betrayal. Barnes winks at him and Steve’s sure his dick throbs. Fuck.
“I’m a reasonable man, Steve. I’m offering you two options. You can learn to be my bitch and maybe I’ll take you upstairs, get you a bit more comfy, have a wash, clean clothes, some food… or you can stay down here and be a punching bag until maybe me and Stark come to an agreement.”
Fuck. He was going to die down here. Tony hates Barnes after what he did. Tony’s Steve’s best friend, but he’s sure Tony would let him die down here out of pride, rather than concede any territory or victory to Barnes.
“Fuck you,” Steve growls at him.
“You sure I can’t do something about that for you?” Barnes asks casually, looking at Steve’s hard dick, still holding the moonshine bottle.
“No. I’m not a fucking fairy like you, you sick fuck,” Steve spits at him.
The back of Barnes’s hand stings against his face.
“Alright,” Barnes says evenly like he hasn’t just smacked him, “scented pretty aroused to me, but what do I know.” He looks at Steve’s hard dick again and smirks. “See you later, honey.”
He walks out of the room, swinging the bottle of moonshine, and Steve has to resist the urge to growl.
*
Eventually Steve’s dick goes soft, mostly due to the pain and the cold air in the basement. He could have at least done his fucking fly back up. Fucking fairy. Maybe that’s why Tony kicked Barnes out of the gang all those years ago. Everyone said he did something unspeakable.
He hears footsteps on the stairs and he groans. Multiple footsteps. Except. Steve can definitely smell food. His stomach growls.
“Oh, look, was the boss playing with you?” One of them laughs. Steve glares at them. There’s two this time, Brock, and another one Steve doesn’t recognize. The one he doesn’t recognize has a plate of food, Brock has a bucket.
“Get fucked.”
“Oh, do you not want this then?” the one Steve doesn’t know says, gesturing to the dinner he’s brought. He sits down on the chair opposite Steve’s and starts eating the dinner in front of him. Brock laughs. Steve glares at him but says nothing.
“Should probably still give him a wash, though,” Brock says after the other guy has finished eating.
“Yeah, guess so,” he says, stands up and steps back. Brock throws the bucket of water over Steve. It’s lukewarm at best.
He glares at them some more, trying not to show his reaction.
“See you later, honey,” Brock drawls at him.
It’s about ten minutes before Steve starts to shiver as the water goes cold, his wet clothes cling to him unpleasantly.
Yeah. He’s gonna fucking die down here.
*
They come again in the evening. At least, Steve thinks it’s the evening. He really has no idea how long he was out for the first or second time. He’s shivering, starving. His shoulders hurt. His back hurts.
“Aw, you cold?” Brock says. “The boss said if you were good you could have some new clothes, do you feel like behaving?”
Steve’s freezing, and hungry, but like fuck is he going to give in to these people.
“Fuck you.”
They laugh, put the food down on the chair and roll up their sleeves.
“Remember what he said, not his face.”
*
Steve’s lying sideways on the floor of the cellar, still tied to the chair. He starts wondering if he actually wants to die for Tony Stark. If he wants to die for his pride. He stares at the bare concrete. The light bulb starts to flicker.
*
They’ve put him the right way up this time. The plate of food has been left on the other chair, but he’s still tied to his chair. He can move the chair around, kind of, little shuffles and jerks. He has to be careful or he ends up tipping onto his side again. He wonders if he could tip it forward enough and some how get his face to the plate. He wriggles in the rope, wondering for the 100th time if he might be able to get free.
It's pointless.
He’s going to die down here.
*
A different guy comes the next day. Sam, Steve thinks this one’s name is. He’s black, big, muscular, and Steve really isn’t looking forward to what this guy’s going to do to him. He sits on the chair silently, the plate on his lap. The food is cut up this time. He offers some chicken to Steve on a fork. Steve stares at it, stares at Sam. He is so hungry. He’s so tired. He doesn’t want to die down here.
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
It catches Steve off guard, his gentle, soft voice, his non-threatening manner.
“Sure,” Steve says. His mouth feels weird, talking feels weird. God. He needs some water. “Sam, right?”
“Right. You remember I work for Barnes, you don’t remember me from before.”
Steve looks hard at Sam, trying to work out where the hell he might know the guy from, or what he’s going on about. Steve shakes his head.
Sam laughs, shaking his head and smiling at Steve.
“Wow. That’s… yeah, well, I guess why would Captain America remember knocking a small fry like me out of the running.”
Steve cringes at the old nickname.
“I boxed with you?”
“I dunno,” Sam laughs. “The way you kicked my ass I’m not sure you could really call it a boxing match, it was more like someone swatting a fly.”
Steve laughs for the first time in… fuck. How long has he been down there.
“Well, I’m sure you put up the best fight you could.”
“I sure did. Man. It was a while ago, though, I’ll forgive you for not remembering.”
“Thanks,” Steve says dryly.
“You were really something back then. Heard you even had Pierce backing you.”
Steve winces.
“Look,” Sam says, “you want some of this or not, I’m not hungry.”
Steve looks at him hard. His stomach growls. God. He just. He doesn’t want to die down here.
“I’m not gonna go tell Stark or something.”
Steve sighs. He opens his mouth.
Sam doesn’t say anything else, so Steve doesn’t either, and Sam feeds him the dinner, one bite at a time. He offers him a bottle of water. Steve drinks the whole thing straight down.
“You need the bathroom?”
Steve nods. He’s already had to piss his pants, it stinks. He feels so disgusting.
Sam points to his gun.
“If you try to escape, either I’ll shoot you, or they’re gonna kick the shit out of you, and next time you’ll have to just shit yourself. You got that?”
Steve nods. He lets out a sigh of relief as Sam cuts the rope, watching Steve carefully. He points to a door that had been behind Steve. He’d not even realized it was there. Sam keeps the gun on him, and Steve wants to sit on the toilet so bad.
“I’m gonna shut the door, don’t make me regret it,” Sam says, “shout when you’re done.”
Steve goes to the toilet, then realizes there’s a sink in there, soap, and set of fresh clothes sitting on a shelf. He stares. Has this been here the entire fucking time? Steve swallows his pride, and starts to undress. He winces. His ribs hurt like hell, as do his shoulders, so sore from being tied up for so long. He takes off the disgusting pants and throws them on the top of the pile. He washes quickly, dries off with the towel that actually feels brand new and fluffy, and pulls on the clothes that have been left for him. It's a plain pair of briefs, a black pair of suit pants, a white sleeveless shirt and a white button down. It feels so incredible to put on clean clothes. He’s a traitor. Maybe. But, god, he couldn’t sit in those disgusting clothes another second. He carefully washes his bruised face. Wishes they’d left him a razor, but he knows why they haven’t.
He looks like absolute shit. There’s bags under his eyes and his hair looks awful. It’s only been three days. Maybe? He has no idea.
“I’m done,” he calls.
Sam opens the door, gun on Steve. Barnes is standing next to him. Fuck.
“I was told you were behaving a little better today,” Barnes says. Today Barnes is wearing a three piece grey tartan suit, a black and orange striped tie, and the same black gloves.
God, he could punch him. He could run at him. He could…
Barnes’s lips twitch up into a smile, clearly Steve’s thoughts are plain as day on his face.
“Maybe I’ll take you in the ring one day, Steve, let you work out some of that frustration.” He winks at him. “You can take that back upstairs,” Barnes says to Sam, indicating the plate and Sam nods.
“Yes, boss.” He takes the plate and leaves.
It feels weird to be standing up after to so long, to be able to move freely. He wants to stretch, but he feels pinned to the spot by Barnes’s gaze.
“Got your size right,” Barnes says, smiling, as he looks at his clothes. He steps up closer to Steve.
Steve’s breath hitches and, Jesus Christ. That wasn’t right.
“Let me check your ribs,” Barnes says.
And then he… then he takes off his gloves and Steve stares. They were right. Holy fuck. Barnes has a fucking metal hand. Barnes gives him an amused smile, laying the gloves on the chair and undoing the buttons on Steve’s shirt. Steve keeps perfectly still, even as Barnes’s fingers brush his skin and, oh, shit. There’s something wrong with Steve. Blood is rushing south again. He can’t look at Barnes’s face. He can’t. He stares at his neck instead. Barnes feels down Steve’s side and Steve hisses in pain. Barnes doesn’t apologize, just feels his way around.
“That’s good, they’re just bruises. And they won’t get any more bruised, if you behave yourself. Look at me.”
Steve reluctantly pulls his eyes up to Barnes’s. His grey eyes are intense and it takes every bit of constitution he has not to step back.
“You are a pretty thing,” he muses and Steve’s stomach turns at the same time that his dick throbs.
Barnes breaks eye contact and Steve nearly stumbles forward in relief. Barnes circles him, ends up standing behind him, puts his hands on Steve’s hips and pulls him backwards. He can feel Barnes’s hard dick against his ass and this is so fucking wrong.
“I’ll revise those options for you, Steve. You can be naughty again, and you’ll get the shit kicked out of you, maybe starve to death down here. You can behave, stay down here and I’ll keep feeding you and I won’t tie you back up. You can use that bathroom all you like. Or, if you’re really good, you can come upstairs and have a nice, hot bath with me.”
Barnes’s words in his ear sound like the best thing he’s ever heard.
“And a shave.”
God. It sounds practically pornographic the way Barnes says it.
“Maybe even some coffee. Or some liquor?”
Steve doesn’t mean to groan at the thought.
Barnes chuckles.
“But if you come up there, Stevie, I can do whatever I want to you. I’ll make you feel so fucking good, I swear, you’ll never want to leave my bed.”
Steve violently shakes his head.
Barnes laughs but shrugs.
“Alright. You gonna behave down here?”
Steve nods.
“Say ‘yes boss’,” Barnes says.
Steve’s breath falters. He knows it’s dumb. No one else would ever know.
“Say it. Or it’s back tied to that chair and no bathroom privileges.”
Steve just. Steve doesn’t want to die down here.
“Yes, boss,” Steve forces out.
Barnes hums approvingly.
“Good boy,” he purrs in Steve’s ear and Steve’s knees nearly give out. What the fuck. “If you change your mind, I’ve got the comfiest bed upstairs, plenty of room, think about it. I bet I’d suck your dick better than any Omega you ever fucked.”
And with that, he’s gone. Leaving Steve staring at the door. He quickly does up his shirt.
*
Barnes is true to his word. His men bring Steve basic food, water. They don’t hit him. Don’t say anything to him. They seem a bit disappointed. Apart from Sam, sometimes Sam chats to him about boxing, about the world outside. Every now and again, he gets fresh clothes. Everyday, he gets fresh underwear.
It gets cold at night, so fucking cold. The floor is so hard. He misses his bed. He misses his friends. Misses talking to someone, anyone. At the week mark, he wonders how long Barnes plans on keeping him here. He’s not sure he wants to know the answer.
He misses daylight.
He jerks off in the bathroom. Just once. He accidentally starts thinking about Barnes standing behind him. About how his dick felt against his thigh. How his fingertips had felt against his chest. He comes hard thinking about Barnes’s steel colored eyes.
He refuses to do it again.
He doesn’t see Barnes for another week, by which time he thinks he might be going insane. He’s so fucking bored. He does press ups. Squats. He runs around the room for a bit. He’s still fucking bored.
He starts wondering if maybe he did get close to Barnes, he could find out information. Find out who all his people were. Fuck, maybe he could even pretend to work for him. Feed it all to Tony somehow.
He's starting to wish Barnes had just shot him that night. Except he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to die. But he doesn’t want to live down here either. He sighs.
It’s so cold down here.
*
Barnes comes down and sits down on the chair. Steve’s sitting down in one of the corners.
“How you doing?”
“Great,” Steve says sarcastically.
“At least you’re not covered in piss.”
“There’s that.”
“What’s wrong with your accommodation?”
Steve rolls his eyes.
“It’s cold. The floor’s hard. I’m bored.”
Barnes smirks at him.
“Well, you know, it’s nice and warm up in my room. I got a comfy bed, a big, hot bath, lots of books. I might even let you come and play poker with the boys, bring you to the casino once in a while. I could take you down to the boxing gym and let you work out some of that tension. Lots of daylight, up in my room. Might even let you out in the garden.”
Steve’s skin crawls. Can he do this?
“And all I have to do is let you fuck me?”
Barnes huffs a laugh.
“Yeah, it’s gonna be a real terrible experience for you, I can tell. You do as I tell you, that’s all.”
“I can’t say no to anything?”
Barnes shrugs.
“You can try me. I might feel generous. Or, you can end up back down here.”
Steve supposes that’s better than nothing.
“Alright.”
Barnes raises his eyebrows.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Barnes tsks at him.
“Yes, boss,” Steve says, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
Barnes grins.
“Okay, well, we’ll go one time down here, just to make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into, and a test run for me, you know, and then we’ll go upstairs.”
“I… go… uh… what do you….?”
“I’m going to fuck you, Steve,” Barnes says, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He takes off his gloves. “Stand up.”
Anxiety grips Steve’s chest, but he stands up. He thought maybe Barnes would build up to that or something.
“Don’t you believe in foreplay?” he manages to say.
Barnes grins at him, walking over to him in the corner he’s rapidly backing into.
“Of course. Why didn’t I think of that? Get on your knees.”
Fuck. That was dumb. He sighs and drops back down.
“Maybe I kind of like your beard, you know. Open your mouth.”
Barnes opens his fly so transactionally that Steve thinks maybe he can survive this if he can just pretend he’s somewhere else and spend the next week in confessional and then the scent of Barnes really hits him and he feels nearly dizzy with it.
“Yeah?” Barnes grins at him and Steve realizes he’s just kneeling there, gazing up at him and looking dopey.
“Fuck,” he mutters.
Barnes laughs.
“What are you looking so worried about, honey?” He doesn’t let Steve reply, that metal hand on the back of his head, pushing him forward.
Steve braces himself. Barnes’s dick isn’t as… bad as he expected. It’s hard to think exactly what he had expected as Barnes pushes his dick into his mouth. He does it slowly, not too hard. Steve was expecting to immediately be choking on it. Instead, it does something Steve thinks might be worse. It doesn’t make him gag, it makes his own dick throb. He tries to tell himself it’s out of envy and not because his body is telling him that Barnes has a nice dick. That he likes having it in his mouth. That he likes the way Barnes moans.
“Fuck, yeah, that’s good.”
It sends a weird shiver through Steve.
He remembers that he’s meant to be making nice with Barnes, meant to be getting on his side, and lets his head be easily maneuvered, sucks, licks, tries to do what he thinks he likes when Omegas suck him off.
“Mmm, yeah, good boy, you’re such a good pet, aren’t you? You’ll be such a lovely companion for me.”
Steve’s head spins at his words and he does gag a bit when Barnes pushes at the back of his throat.
“Mmm, it’s okay, baby, feels nice around my dick still, and we can work on that.” He pulls back. “Suck on the head, lick around it, yeah, mmm, just like that, honey. And get your dick out, get yourself hard.”
Steve flushes but does as he’s told, hoping that Barnes doesn’t notice that he’s already hard.
“Mmm, yeah, you’ve got a lovely dick haven’t you? Lovely dick, lovely mouth… can’t wait to feel how your asshole feels, honey.”
Steve isn’t sure if he can do this, even as his dick throbs in his hand.
“Mmm, good. Get up, honey.” Barnes says.
Steve gets up on shaky legs and Barnes pushes him back against the wall. He’s expecting that, almost. He’s not expecting him to push him back first against the wall, or to do the unforgiveable. To push his lips against Steve’s. Steve looks at him in wide-eyed horror and Barnes laughs at him, the bastard. He distracts Steve, slotting their dicks together and wrapping his flesh hand around both of them at once. Steve moans and Barnes takes full advantage of Steve’s open mouth, keeping him pushed against the wall with his metal hand and sliding his tongue inside his mouth.
Steve groans, can’t help it. Barnes kisses him filthy and rough. No Omega ever kissed him like this and, god, Steve loves it. His body betrays him, pushes up against Barnes for contact, and Barnes grunts in approval and he just has no right being so sexy. What the fuck is wrong with Steve?
“Mmm, fuck, you feel fucking good, Steve.” Then his mouth is on Steve’s gland, kissing and sucking, and his hand’s still pumping their dicks together, and it’s just been so long since he had sex, that’s got to be all it is, the reason why he lets out a wanton moan that he’s sure would put a porn star Omega to shame.
Barnes groans back.
“So far, Steve, you are passing with flying colors. Turn around.”
Steve gulps. Barnes pushes Steve’s pants down, along with his briefs, and Steve takes a deep breath, resisting the urge to run.
“I’m not gonna fuck you dry or something, Steve, I’m not a brute,” he mutters in Steve’s ear.
He feels lube on his ass and nearly hits the ceiling. Barnes chuckles in his ear.
“Hey, at least it’s not cold.”
“You’re so considerate.”
“Trust me, Stevie, you’re gonna love this.”
“Don’t call me Stevie.”
“Why not?” Barnes asks right at the same time as he slides a slick finger inside Steve and Steve immediately tenses. “Heyyy, shhh,” he coos in Steve’s ear, leaning down to kiss and suck at his gland again, and Steve can’t control the way his body goes lax, letting Barnes’s finger slide in.
Steve gasps.
“That’s weird.”
Barnes huffs a laugh.
“Uhuh, just relax. Why don’t you like ‘Stevie’?”
“It’s silly. Sounds like an Omega’s name.”
Barnes huffs a laugh.
“Well, exactly, you’re going to be my Omega, aren’t you, Stevie?”
He pushes his finger in deep as Steve tries to reply, starts stroking Steve’s dick with his other hand, sucks on Steve’s neck, and Steve moans.
“Mmm,” Barnes agrees.
Then his fingers hit something and Steve gasps.
“Oh, wh –”
He’s cut off by Barnes chuckling and pushing his fingers there hard. Sparks of pleasure zing through Steve’s body.
“Oh!”
“Mmm, yeah, just there. Good boy, gonna make you feel so good, Stevie.” He pushes another finger inside before Steve can reply, still stroking Steve’s dick, nibbling at his gland, and Steve’s brain is dissolving. Particularly when Barnes’s fingers are pushing just there.
He whimpers. It’s mortifying, but there’s no other word for it.
“Feel good, Stevie?” Barnes asks and Steve moans, nods. There’s no point in lying, given his objective. “Tell me, words.”
“Feels good, b…boss,” Steve says, moans as Barnes pushes on that spot.
“Good, gonna fuck you now, Stevie, gonna feel real good, I promise.”
Steve gulps, but Barnes never takes his hand off Steve’s dick, keeps sucking on his gland, and it’s hard to tense up when pleasure is rippling through him.
“That’s it, baby, legs a bit wider, yeah, just like that, good boy.”
Then his fingers are gone and that feels weird, and then his dick is there and, oh, fuck. Is Steve really gonna let him do this? It feels big, too big, and –
“Shh, I got you,” Barnes’s words are like soothing, warm honey. They shouldn’t be, but – “Oh, yeah,” Barnes sighs as the head pushes in and, god, that feels weird, feels thick and Steve doesn’t know if he can, and, “mmm, yeah,” Barnes moans in his ear and Steve shivers. “So good, yeah, fuuuck,” Barnes moans as he fucks in deeper and, god, Steve feels used, but it doesn’t feel bad like it should, and it’s so weird, and – he gasps as Barnes pushes in another inch. “Doing so good, don’t worry, it’ll get easier every time after this. Fuck you so good, so much, I’ll just be able to slide in here, baby.”
Steve shakes in Barnes’s grip.
“Mmm, fuck, yeah, ah!” Barnes groans as he finally gets all the way in.
Fuck. He feels huge. Barnes is still playing with Steve’s dick. Even though it’s gone mostly soft, it’s still sensitive and he gasps. Sweat beads on Steve’s forehead. He feels hot all over.
“Breathe, breathe in deep for me, Stevie, come on.”
Steve does as he’s told. His head’s a mess, he can’t think straight, it feels good, but it’s so much and he feels winded, gasping for breath.
“Relax, relax, baby, all the way down to your toes, I got you, honey.” His voice soothes Steve and, god, it shouldn’t, but it’s low and gravely and –
“Oh, god,” Steve gasps as Barnes starts to fuck him, slow strokes but, god, he’s so fucking big.
“Fuck, mmm, that’s so good, god, you feel so good, Stevie,” Barnes’s voice rasps in his ear and Steve shivers.
He starts moving faster and it’s intense, it feels… way more like a bonding experience than Steve’s ever had with an Omega, but he tries desperately not to think about that and then – The horrific thought occurs to him that Barnes is going to want to knot him and he absolutely cannot take that.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”
Steve splutters, unable to find words.
“Taking it so good, baby, don’t freeze up on me, enjoy it, tell me when I’m hitting that spot and I’ll make this so good for you,” he purrs in his ear, “my perfect little pet.”
“You’re not gonna… you’re… don’t… you can’t…”
“What?” Barnes stops for a second.
“You can’t… knot me.”
“Oh,” Barnes chuckles like he’s being adorable. “Not like this I can’t, no. Barely managed to get my dick in, honey, you’re so fucking tight. We can build up to that later.”
Steve gulps, but at least they’re not going to do that now. He takes a deep breath.
“Just enjoy it, honey.”
Steve’s not sure what Barnes does differently but suddenly his dick is pounding into that spot and he yelps, his hands scrabbling at the wall for something to grip.
“Yeah,” Barnes says, sounding smug. “That’s it. Gonna make you scream.”
Steve clenches his jaw for about five seconds, because he’s an idiot and he’s not going to let Barnes tell him what to do and –
“Fuck! Oh, oh, god, fuck!” he yells as Barnes picks up the pace.
“Yeah, that’s better,” Barnes croons in his ear and keeps hitting that spot and Steve is losing it. He can’t stop the moans coming out of his mouth. It’s not even just Barnes’s dick, it’s his voice, his scent, his body behind him, his hand on his dick, all of it.
“Oh, god, I… I…” Steve stutters.
“Yeah, you gonna come for me, Stevie?”
God, Steve doesn’t want to, it just feels wrong but –
“Fuck!” he yells as it takes him and Barnes groans loud in his ear.
“Yeah, god, so hot, fuck, gonna come inside your perfect ass, Stevie, yeah, god…ah!” He starts fucking him harder, so hard that Steve’s ribs start to object, but then he grunts in his ear and latches onto Steve’s neck with his teeth, not breaking the skin but holding and, oh, shit. Another wave passes over Steve and he shudders.
“Fuck,” Barnes sighs in Steve’s ear. “Mmm.” He runs his hands over Steve, kissing and licking down his neck, and Steve realizes with relief that Barnes didn’t even try to get his knot inside.
He pulls out and Steve can feel come dripping down his thighs and that is just fucking weird and –
Barnes turns him around, kisses him again, and Steve is such a mess that he just opens his mouth and lets Barnes lick into him, kiss him slow and filthy, and he’s pretty sure he whimpers.
Eventually he stops and rests his forehead against Steve’s. Steve wishes he could break free from his intense grey stare.
“Gorgeous,” Barnes tells him. “Good job, Stevie.”
He grins at him then, wide, and Steve feels some of the intensity break.
“I got some work I gotta do, you clean up in there,” he says, indicating the bathroom. “Sam will take you up to my room.”
And then Barnes is just... gone. Steve leans back against the wall, trying to catch his breath, to make sense of all the sensations running through his body. His pulse still thuds in his ear. He can’t ignore the euphoria, the post orgasm rush that he’s not sure he’s ever felt so hard before. He feels Barnes’s come running down his legs and pulls a face. Disgusting.
What the fuck has he done? The cold of the cellar seems to overtake him suddenly and he shivers. He stumbles over to the bathroom, grabs his pants and briefs on the way, and shuts the door quickly. Can’t stand the thought of anyone seeing him like this. Fuck. He washes himself the best he can with just the sink, thinking he can do a better job upstairs in Barnes’s room when he gets up there. Does he want to get up there?
He dries off and pull the briefs and pants back on. Stares at himself in the mirror. The bruises on his face have all faded to a yellowy brown, he’s still got bags under his eyes, his hair’s a mess, and he’s got marks on his neck from where Barnes was sucking at his skin. He shivers, like he can still feel it, then tries to snap himself out of it.
He needs to get upstairs where he can have a proper wash.
He comes back out and calls for Sam, who appears almost instantly. He’s still got a gun on him, but indicates for him to walk up the stairs. He doesn’t comment on what he must know has just occurred in the cellar, thank god. Steve thinks he might get a bag put over his head or something, but Sam doesn’t bother. Steve has a fair idea of where he is already. Everyone knew where Barnes and his gang resided. It’s dark outside. Steve’s a bit disappointed, he had no idea what time of day it was and was hoping for daylight. He doesn’t look around too much as Sam leads him up and up, two flights of stairs, to what appears to be Barnes’s suite. There’s no one else around and Steve’s grateful. The fewer people see him like this, the better.
Sam indicates the door to him and Steve walks in.
“Don’t try to escape. It won’t end well. The windows open, but they look over the garden and we’ve got guards all around the house. I wouldn’t bother.”
Steve’s heart sinks a little bit but, at least there’s windows.
“Thanks,” he manages to say, because at least Sam isn’t a dick like the other guys. Sam shrugs, and shuts the door.
The room’s low lit, burnt orange velvet curtains cover the windows, the wood is all mahogany and the wall paper is dark orange with a gold pattern. Several paintings hang on the walls in ornate gold frames. The bed is a huge four poster with dark chocolate covers. A dark studded burgundy sofa sits opposite the bed. A large wooden wardrobe stands in the corner next to a matching chest of drawers and a small desk. There’s two doors, one on each side of the room. One leads to a bathroom with the biggest bath Steve’s ever seen sitting on gold ornamental feet. The tiles are dark red and cover all the walls, the cabinet is a matching dark red with golden handles, and it’s all so jarring compared to the grey of the cellar than Steve almost has to look away. He turns on the bath taps instead.
He walks back out to the bedroom and wanders through the next door. He desperately wants that bath, to sort his head, but some survival instinct is telling him he needs to know his surroundings first. Tony might have taught him that.
The other room looks like a study. Bookcases line the walls, aside from a few gaps with more gold framed pictures. Same curtains. Another oriental rug. A sofa and chair set in a similar oriental fabric are arranged around a large, dark wooden table. There’s a desk in this room too, large with a gold lock on it.
He walks back to the bedroom, pulls back the curtain to look out. He can’t see much, just lights of the other houses around. He closes it and goes back to the bathroom. The hot water feels incredible, even just running his hands through it. He pours in some of Barnes’ bubble bath and strips down. There’s a huge, ornate mirror on one wall that Steve declines to look in. There candles on the side, but no matches. Figures. He slides into the hot water. The noise he lets out echoes around the bathroom as he finally feels warm.
He dips his head in the bath too, winces as the soap gets in the cuts, but he’s desperate to feel clean again. He closes his eyes for a while, trying to make sense of his racing thoughts, to quell the panic threatening to rise up. He only needs to stay here long enough to build Barnes’s trust, or until there’s an opportunity to escape. The Omegas that went after Steve weren’t stupid, Alphas that thought with their dicks, that fell in love with pretty Omegas, were easily tricked. Easily fooled. He’s sure this isn’t that different. Barnes said he thought he was pretty, cooed over him like a pet, and, yeah, that was a little disturbing, but Steve could use that.
And it isn’t like it was awful. In fact it was kind of… Steve pushes the thought out of his mind. He isn’t going to die here. But he isn’t going to be a traitor, either. He is going to be useful, as much as he can. There was no point suffering down in that cellar when he didn’t have to.
The bath water is turning cold when he hears footsteps in the next room.
To his complete surprise, Barnes knocks on the door.
“Come in?” Steve calls.
Barnes opens the door, leans on the door frame. He drags his eyes up and down Steve and smiles.
“I knew you’d look good in there.”
Steve has no idea what to say to that.
“Thanks?”
Barnes laughs.
“Do you want a shave?”
“Please,” Steve says, one thing he’d be willing to beg for.
“I do like your beard, but you were so good for me earlier. Step out, come sit on here.”
Barnes pulls in a stool from the next room and passes Steve a dark red towel. Steve dries off and Barnes watches him the entire time. Steve sits down on the stool and drapes the towel around his shoulders. Barnes takes off his jacket, takes off his waistcoat, his shirt and – Steve stares. He’s actually thankful for the shock that is seeing the whole of Barnes’s metal arm, it distracts him from the involuntary reaction he’s having to seeing the rest of him topless.
Steve opens his mouth to ask and then closes it again. Barnes smirks at him, setting the brush and the shaving cream on the side of the bath, then starts putting the cream on Steve’s face. It’s weird, having someone do this for him. He knows you can go to a barber for it, but he’s never been that comfortable with someone having a blade to his throat. Barnes comes to stand behind him and tilts Steve’s head back. Barnes takes out the blade and Steve tries to keep his breathing even.
It's very unlikely Barnes has orchestrated this whole thing just to then slit Steve’s throat, but it’s hard to quell the sense of threat. He slides the blade up Steve’s neck. He’s silent as he does it and Steve is horrified to find the feeling of threat is giving way to weird arousal and– what the actual fuck is wrong with him?
It doesn’t help that Barnes is insisting on keeping constant, intense eye contact.
Barnes finishes his neck and moves to sit opposite him, running the blade across Steve’s face with careful, confident precision and Steve can’t help but stare into those eyes and start wondering about Bucky Barnes. About who the hell he is, and why he got thrown out of the gang. And how the hell he ended up with a metal arm.
“There you go.”
“Thanks,” Steve manages to be polite, at least. Barnes gestures to the sink for him to wash his face. Steve does, wrapping his towel around his waist.
“What do you think?” Barnes asks him as Steve checks it in the mirror, sounding amused.
“Oh, yeah, good, thanks,” he says. Barnes comes up behind him, takes the towel and undoes it, and– why is Barnes starting to turn him on when he does shit like that? He shouldn’t, it shouldn’t…
Barnes steps back and flicks his eyes up and down him.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” he sighs. “Turn around.”
Steve does. Bucky takes his hairbrush and carefully brushes Steve’s hair, being extra light as he goes over the slight bump.
“I’ll need to get the tailor to come up tomorrow and get you some new clothes,” He says, seemingly mostly to himself.
Steve feels a skitter of panic. His fucking tailor? How long was he planning on keeping him here?
“Why don’t you go get into bed, sweetheart? You look exhausted. Think you deserve that nice bed, yeah?”
“Okay, boss,” Steve says.
“You can call me Bucky, if you want, but only in here.”
Steve nods. Bucky steps back and Steve walks to the bed. He falters.
“What’s wrong?”
“Uh, which… side?”
Barnes smiles at him like he’s being adorable.
“Why don’t you take the left?”
Steve nods and gets into the bed and he nearly groans at how soft the sheets are, how warm it is. Bucky smiles in satisfaction.
“Sweet dreams, Stevie,” Barnes says and goes back into the bathroom.
Steve thinks it’s gonna be hard to sleep, in this strange place, with Bucky lurking around, but he’s so tired, the bed feels so good, he passes right out.
*