Chapter Text
“Finish your pasta, babe.”
It was 2014 and men called their boyfriends, ‘babe.’ Steve never would have imagined he would love the way it made him feel. Their ‘on the down-low’ boyfriends, anyway. Steve and Brock were nothing if not discrete. Hell, not even Nat knew about the two of them, and it felt like she knew everything. Steve smiled and took another bite of the spaghetti, walking over with his bowl to where Brock was tapping away on his tablet.
“Sure thing, doll,” Steve quipped.
“Fuck, you’re old.”
“Takes one to know one.” Steve grinned down at him, and Brock swatted at his arm before going back to his report. Steve settled down next to him on the couch and ate quietly.
“Hey, what’s in this? It’s good.”
“Italian sausage. I know how much you like it in you,” Brock replied with a leer.
“Don’t be crude.”
“You love it.”
Steve hummed. “Yeah, sure, finish your damn report.”
“You feeling frisky?” Steve did not respond, save for sucking in a long noodle noisily. Brock quirked an eyebrow at him. “Now I’m just gonna make you wait for it.” Steve groaned and Brock chuckled. “Finish your pasta, boy.”
“Not ‘babe’ anymore?”
“Maybe you can earn it back.”
Steve hummed again and kept working on the pasta. “You not gonna eat?”
“I’ll get some in a bit. Wanna work up an appetite.” They exchanged a grin before Brock went back to his report.
Steve had not liked Brock at first. There was something that was just off about the older man that Steve could not put his finger on. But they worked well together, and after a while Steve wondered if perhaps whatever it was that was off was just him feeling something new. Brock was crass and had stopped treating him like Captain America after about three days. And he made Steve laugh; like, really laugh. Laughing so hard he could feel it in his stomach afterwards, and Steve had been certain he would never feel that way again.
Maybe he would tell Natasha about the two of them. He thought she would be happy for him. He was feeling happy for himself. This was easy. Brock was fun. It felt alright.
He finished the spaghetti and fought back a yawn as he stood to clean his dish.
“Hey, just stick it in the sink and head to the bed. I’ll meet you there in a minute.”
“Hmm. And how would you like me Agent Rumlow?” Steve asked with a smile, leaning down over the back of the couch to murmur in Brock’s ear.
“Just go over to the bed and wait for me. We’ve got time.”
Brock always seemed to be pushing him into new experiences too. Steve believed he would not be able to feel anything again, but after a few months with Brock he was feeling things he did not even know were possible. Some of them were great — the things Brock could do with his mouth and with a plug should be illegal; and nipple clamps? that was definitely in the top ten things Steve loved about this century — but some of them were not.
•••
“Hnnng, Brock, wait. Stop, I can’t—“
The vibrator he had been pressing against Steve’s cock was instantly gone and Steve let out a shaky breath of relief. It was overwhelming, more pain than pleasure against his body’s heightened sensitivity.
“Too much?” Steve nodded, collapsing back on the bed, blushing hard and looking away. “No, it’s good you told me,” Brock replied reasonably.
“I really thought I could handle that.”
“It’s alright. We’re learning.”
“But you were really into it— I should’ve—“
“Relax. I’m looking for some good ways to make you scream. We’ll figure it out. It’s good to know.”
•••
“Rumlow, Christ, I’m not wearing a gag or blindfold. I already know I don’t like ‘em.”
“Oh? There something you ain’t telling me?”
“No, I’m shooting straight. No gags, no blindfolds. They make me uncomfortable.”
“Okay. Good to know
“Besides, I’m sure you can think of better things to do with my mouth.”
He grinned. “Consider it dropped.”
•••
“Wait, Brock. I don’t like that. Stop. Stop!”
“Okay, no problem.” Brock put the ice cube back in the bowl and took a towel and wiped down the wet trail of terrifyingly cold water from his chest. Steve had started shaking on the bed, erection wilting. “Woah, okay babe. It’s alright. No ice cubes.”
“S-sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, it’s good to know.”
Steve stretched his arms over his head after putting his bowl in the sink with a clatter and yawned again. His limbs felt heavy.
“Shit, I might be more tired than I thought,” he called out as he walked through the small studio apartment to the bed.
“No, don’t give me that. Perk up, babe. It’s been days since we got to do anything.”
Steve smiled, taking his shoes off by the dresser and shuffling over to the bed. He paused, blinking. His vision went a little hazy around the edges. He shook his head trying to clear his mind, but it made things worse. He pitched over, barely catching himself on the edge of the bed. He crawled onto it and sat down, head spinning.
“Brock,” he called out. Even his voice did not sound right.
“Yeah, babe?”
“Something’s wrong.” His body was growing hot and flushed and he could feel a sheen of sweat on his brow. He felt a hand on his chest. Brock. When had he gotten there? He could hear everything, he could feel everything. It was hitting him like a sack of bricks and making the blood under his skin churn. “Brock— what—“
“You’re fine babe. Just lie back. I got you.”
“It’s hot— what’s—“
“Let’s get that shirt off.”
“What’s happening?”
Brock’s hands were on him and he was shirtless, pushed back down on the bed. Things were spinning. The change was so fast. He was going to pass out, he was sure. He couldn’t lift his arms, I can’t lift my arms! He could feel his heart already pounding in his chest and everything was telling him to run but he couldn’t. And he felt so hot all of a sudden, his nipples were taut, his breath coming heavy in his chest, and—
“Christ you could cut diamonds with that thing.”
God, when had that happened? Steve looked down at his crotch and saw his jeans tenting. Seeing it now he could feel his cock straining against the rough fabric.
“Brock, what’s going on?” he slurred back.
“Just something to make you feel more. Didn’t think it’d work this fast.”
“You coulda told me…”
“I just wanna make you feel good, okay babe? I want you to let go. Don’t be scared, okay?”
“Uh—“ he did not say okay. It was not okay, and some part of him far away knew that. His head fell back down on the bed, his eyes could not focus.
He ran a hand along Steve’s ribs and Steve gasped and moaned. It was too much, he was shuddering on the bed. It was too much, it was too fast. All of his already-heightened senses were exploding. He was sure he was going to vibrate out of his skin. His cock felt so hard, he was sure even a puff of air would make him come.
“Brock, please,” he murmured. Stop.
“What do you need, babe?”
“It’s too— too much— I can’t—“
“Shhh. You got this, you’re good, you got this.”
Steve whimpered on the bed, almost convulsing from the way his body was reacting to the drugs. What had happened? He had been fine, he was joking just a minute ago, he had been watching Brock work on his report and had eaten dinner. The spaghetti. “Finish your pasta, babe.” Brock drugged his food. Steve felt sick. He didn’t like this. He didn’t want this. But it didn’t matter, he could barely focus, it was happening.
Brock’s hands were on his chest, everywhere, they were everywhere and he was quivering beneath them, completely helpless. He could not even push Brock away. It was like his skin was on fire wherever Brock’s skin met his. He shook his head, he did not like this, he did not want this. Another whimper tore through his lips.
“Shhh. You got this babe. You’re doing good.” He squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the sheets beneath him, muscles shifting and tensing beneath his skin. “You want me to talk you through it?” Steve was not sure if he nodded or not, but Brock started whispering in his ear, hands wandering over his skin making Steve shudder and spasm on the bed. “You look like something else like this, babe. God, I could fucking eat you up. I’m gonna keep you like this forever, hard, and desperate, and happy, and cock-hungry.”
Now that Brock said it, Steve could feel it in him. He was desperate for it. He could not even piece together that he wanted to be fucked until Brock suggested it and now it was all that he could see in his mind’s eye. He moaned deeply, hips thrusting up into the air of their own accord. He could not stop himself. He could almost feel the chemicals in his system making him go blind with lust. It was too much, he was going to explode.
“You’d like that. You’d like that a lot huh?” He moaned in response, words failing him. “You like being pushed to the edge. You think you don’t, but you do. You need it. You’re so scared. I don’t want you to be scared anymore. Remember the little bullet vibe on your cock?” The image shot through Steve and he thrust up with a cry. “You wanted me to keep going. I could see it. You were saying no, but I knew you didn’t mean it.”
“Br-r-ock, wh-at?”
“You wanted me to push you then, you want me to push you now. This is it. This is the beginning of the push you’ve been waiting for.”
“What?”
His hand slid down and played at the skin where Steve’s pants ended. It was like being shocked with electricity, he squirmed but could not slide away, his body wouldn’t cooperate. That did nothing to help the panic rising in his mind. This was not Brock playing around in the bedroom, this was something different. He could not get away, he could barely function, barely think. Brock started undoing the button of his jeans and a high whine fell from Steve’s lips. He tried to focus and slowly brought his hand up, trying to push Brock’s away, but his limbs were so heavy. Brock laughed and took his wrist and put his hand back down on the bed, so far away from where he wanted it to be. His pants were unzipped and soon his cock was free. Brock pulled his pants down, bunching them at his ankles. Steve wanted to kick them free but he couldn’t. It felt like he was tied down.
You’ll metabolize this soon, you always do, he tried to reason with himself, but even then it did not seem like it would happen. He was sure he was about to spontaneously combust, his very nerves would catch fire and spread it into him, burning white hot until there was nothing left.
“You wanna come? You’re leaking everywhere. Think you can do it without me touching?”
“What?” Steve looked back down, there was a puddle of precum splashed across his stomach, and he had not even noticed. Even that happened too fast, there was too much on his stomach for the short time his cock had been free. His brain caught up with Brock’s words. “What?” he gasped again.
“Ahh, you just listen to me babe. I’ll take care of you. I’m gonna push you over the edge just talking. Doesn’t that sound fun?”
No. No it doesn’t. Steve’s heart was pounding and his vision was blurring and his mind could not get past the panic, the pain from his hard cock, the terror of being unable to move his limbs the way he wanted to.
He could feel Brock’s breath on the skin of his face, he could smell his aftershave and the alcohol he had been drinking. His hand was splayed over his stomach, near Steve’s cock but not touching it. The contact was like a stone pushing him down into the bed.
“Just think how nice it’ll be when you finally get to come. Think about all those times I’ve made you come before; shaking on the bed like you exploded. You want to be pushed. You’re so sensitive and it makes you hold back. You just gotta let go.”
“Holy shit, Rumlow. Where’d you learn to do that?”
“A queen named Leroy in Jersey.”
“I didn’t even know my body could do that.”
“Christ, are you shaking?”
“It’s the serum, I feel everything way too much sometimes. And that was— wow…”
“Good to know.”
Steve wondered if his face would burn Brock’s lips his skin was so hot to the touch. He was sweating, certain it was steaming up from him, vaporizing over his firebrand skin.
Brock sunk his teeth deep into the flesh of Steve’s neck and Steve finally screamed for the first time that night. Brock drew blood, then sucked a sick bruise into Steve’s skin before lapping at it with his tongue. Steve shuddered. He felt sick. He did not want this. His eyes were stinging.
“Oh, baby. Are you crying?”
He was. It hurt. His skin was burning, he could not stop shaking, his cock ached, he did not know what was happening.
“Sh-hit Brock, you g-gotta stop.” Please.
Brock leaned up on his elbow peering down at Steve. Steve could barely meet his eye for how bad his vision was blurring. He ran a hand through Steve’s hair, and Steve could not help but lean into the touch; the other man’s thick palm cradling his head was almost comforting.
Brock pressed his lips to Steve’s. Steve could taste his own blood on Brock’s mouth. It was gentle. It was too much.
Brock chuckled and pinched one of Steve’s nipples, hard. Steve screamed once more. Usually he loved it when Brock touched him there, but now? Now it was worse than being stabbed. He was falling apart. Everything felt too much and he was sure it was going to kill him right there on the bed. Brock slowly ran circles around his chest, squeezing his pecs and digging his nails into the skin.
Then his hand moved. It slid down Steve’s body, past his cock, and between his legs. Steve’s hips bucked up sharp and fast and he keened in the back of his throat when Brock brushed against his hole.
“S-stop,” he said. He could not even hear himself, he was not even sure the word made it past his throat.
Brock spit into his hand and started pressing into Steve with a finger. Steve sobbed, trying to squirm away. It felt good, too good, too much. One finger felt like it was as thick as a wrist; he was certain he was going to be split apart.
“Good boy. You like that, huh? I could keep you like this forever.”
From another world Steve thought he might have heard the top to a container of lube clicking open. He shuddered at the cold slick touching him after a second. It felt like ice, and it was growing colder as Brock started pressing it into him.
“I bought this just for you. It’s cooling lube. Because you liked the ice cubes so much.”
It was so cold against his skin, Steve started shaking even harder. He could not breathe. Brock was killing him, he knew it. He kept wanting to roll away, to run, and he couldn’t. He was sobbing on the bed, trying to pull back and all around him Brock was chuckling into his skin, pumping his ice cold fingers in and out of Steve.
He brushed that spot inside of him that made Steve see stars. Steve gasped, convulsing.
“There it is…”
“N-no—“ More of the cooling gel, more fingers, more brushes against his prostate. He could feel his balls growing tight. “Brock, B-brock.”
“Almost there, huh?” Steve sobbed again. He felt Brock slide closer to him, pressing his body against Steve’s, his rough clothes like sandpaper against his too hot skin. “That’s good, because I wanted to tell you something, and I want to see you come when I say it.”
“W-what are yo—?”
Brock’s hand was pounding inside of him, smashing against his prostate over and over and over. Brock was barely moving, but it felt like Steve was being impaled It hurt, it was cold, it was too much.
“Your head will clear up in a little bit, but this—” He grabbed Steve’s cock, digging his nails in and Steve screamed once more. “—this ain’t going anywhere for a long time.” Steve’s stomach flipped inside of him. “I got the techies to make it especially for you. Super-soldier aphrodisiac. I want you like this. Helpless, terrified, hard. Because I’m going to break you. They said you couldn’t break, you couldn’t be turned, but anyone can be turned.” His cock was growing harder, it was too much, it was too much. He gasped up into Brock’s neck as Brock continued to pump into him. He was close, he was so close. “Are you ready?”
Steve thought he might have nodded, or he might have been shaking his head, he was not sure. The cooling lube inside of him was making him feel nauseous, and the chemicals that made him run hotter were burning through him. White splotches of light started flashing behind his eyelids. Brock took his face in his other hand and forced Steve to meet his eye.
“Hail Hydra.”
He was coming. He was screaming. He could not breathe. Brock was right next to him, pumping him through his painful orgasm. He tried to flinch away but he couldn’t, Brock was everywhere.
Hail Hydra. He hadn’t heard those words in years and Brock made him come with them in his ear. His orgasm felt like his body was glass and he was shattering, like being punched in the stomach. He could not stop himself from crying it hurt so badly, it felt like such a release, he was shaking so much, he was helpless on the bed, he was scared.
When it was finally over he crashed down, sinking into oblivion for a moment, for an hour, for a day, he could not be sure. Brock pulled his fingers out from him, and left the bed. Steve did not even want to open his eyes, he was not even sure he could. He had to get out of here.
A hand on his face, lips on his.
“Good boy,” Rumlow whispered. “You’re so good, babe.”
Steve slowly made his mouth start working again, “Brock, w-what are you doing? Why— why would you say that? Why are you—”
“It won’t be the last time,” Rumlow said. “Do you think I can make you come every time you hear it? Like the dog and the bell?”
“Stop, s-stop—”
Steve tried to push himself up off the bed, opening his eyes. He thought maybe his mind was growing clearer, and his limbs less heavy, but it was still impossible to move quickly. Rumlow easily pushed him down on the bed. Steve stared up at him as he reached over to the nightstand and opened a small case.
He pulled out a syringe.
“What the f—“ Steve was shaking his head, enough so it was making him dizzy as he desperately tried to push his noncooperative body away from Rumlow.
“This is just gonna make you sleep for a few hours,” he said, flicking the small tube with his nail, getting rid of air bubbles. He took a small alcohol wipe and ran it over the inside of Steve’s arm “I need you rested. We’ve got work to do. This is not going to be easy, but you need it.”
Steve’s brain was desperately telling his limbs to run, to pull away, to find the shield and smash it against Rumlow’s skull until it cracked, but it was useless. He tried to pull his arm back when Rumlow took his wrist. Rumlow laughed.
“And look, the drugs are working. You’re still hard. Miracles of modern science.”
Steve looked down, horrified that Rumlow was right. It was as if he had not come at all. He thought he was going to be sick. He did not even realize that Rumlow was looking for a vein for the sedative until he felt a prick in his arm. He gasped and tried to pull away once more, but Rumlow’s grip was firm.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
“Go to sleep, babe. I’m gonna take care of you. I need you knocked out before the initial burn of the drugs wears off.”
“What?”
“I’m taking care of you. You don’t have to be scared anymore.”
“I don’t want this.”
“Good to know.”
His vision went dark. The drugs were so fast. The last thing he saw was his boyfriend grinning down at him before his head fell back onto the pillow; the fan spinning lazily counterclockwise above him. The last thing he felt was his body shaking on the bed and the ice cold remnants of the cooling lube inside of him.