Pairings: Marc Spector/Original Male Character, Steven Grant/Original Male Character, Bucky Barnes/Sam Wilson
Warnings: non-descript depiction of violence, swearing
Words: 4585
A/n: why did I write this much. bouncing up and down like a rubber ball being thrown around by a hyperactive 4 year old. Which is essentially me. Help
_________________________________________
“You do know that what you’re doing here is illegal, right?”
Cem frowned. Many would say that facial expressions were readable, but truthfully, the cook felt rather illiterate at the moment.
Still, some kind of sense should be able to be made out of the mans drawn together eyebrows, observant eyes and pearly whites peaking out from the left corner.
“Not per se, no.”, he tried to argue as he adjusted his stance. “Looking you up on Twitter and finding your nephews account isn’t what I’d call illegal. Well, actually, it kinda is- would be- if I did it for like, you know, weird reasons.”
Another man entered the room. His expression was much more readable than the first guys’; Cem was very much fluent in One-Wrong-Move-And-I’ll-Whoop-Your-Ass, and he really hoped this wouldn’t end up in a scuffle.
Because he, without a doubt, would loose. Better clear this up quick then.
Raising his hands, he took a step backwards.
“Uhm, what I actually wanted to say; I need your help.”
Quick and spot-on, like ripping off a bandaid. Silence, sticky as the remnants of adhesive clinging to the skin, followed.
The men exchanged a look.
“Help? What kind of help? You know the Avengers aren’t your personal guard dogs to beat up sleazy landlords for you.”, Samuel Wilson finally spoke, crossing his arms. The man to his left, James Buchanan Barnes, chuckled.
“Exactly, that’s Jones’ job.”, he snickered, earning a shove.
Cem relaxed, if only slightly. At least they didn’t look as if they were about to beat his ass to a pulp anymore.
“Okay, okay.”, Barnes started again, feigning hurt as he rubbed at his vibranium shoulder. “You gotta use your words man. Help’s got a pretty broad definition, ya’ know? You gotta be more specific.”
Yeah, right. He did have a point with that. The cook shifted again, putting his weight from the right foot on the left.
“Yeah, um, maybe we could sit down for that? If you’re okay with it, of course. Because… it’s a damn long story.”
_______________________________________
Bucky nipped on his beer, the taste of alcohol on his tongue faint, but welcome. Sure, a Heineken was no match for his superhuman metabolism, though he couldn’t help but savour the miniscule amounts of ethanol in his system.
“Okay, so I think I got this part.”, he mused, setting down the bottle. “Your husband developed multiple alters whom you get along with or don’t, depends. And you want to get them professional help.”
The guy across from him, Cem, as he’d learned, shifted his head slighty to and fro, a frown written all over his features.
“Yeah, for the most part. We’re not sure how many alters there are yet, though.”
Now it was Sam’s turn to frown.
“That’s good and all…”, he spoke, taking a swig from his bottle aswell. “But how can we help you with that? I’m sure there’s a lot of qualified psychiatrists and therapists where you’re from, you wouldn’t really need the Avengers help to get a refferal.”
To their surprise the man in front of them flustered, a hand reaching up to rub at his neck awkwardly.
“Ah, well, how do I put this-”, Cem babbled, now nervously biting his lip and cramming around in his pockets. “Maybe it’s best I just show it to you. I can- I can trust you guys, right?”
See, if you’d have asked Sam to make a list of values most important to him, loyalty would be in the top three, no doubt. The guy would rather fight a murderous, mind-controlled supersoldier than break the trust placed into him, Bucky thought with fondness.
“If there’s someone you can trust, it’s this guy right here.”, the man proudly declared as he threw an arm over Sam’s shoulders. “You can trust me too, because if I’d break it, Sammy here would beat my ass.”
With growing satisfaction, Bucky noticed the tension in Cems body to fall, his chest rising with a deep breath.
“Okay, okay. Um, here- wait, it’s not turning full-screen… there!”
A phone was placed in front of them, the screen protector sporting a single, offensive crack from left to right. On the screen itself however, something else was going on.
A bathroom. Big, lots of mirrors and sinks. Then finally-
Screaming, banging, the sounds of stuff breaking. The door to the bathroom swung open and a man stumbled in, clutching at his arm and looking around with wild, panicked eyes.
“Who’s tha-”
“Shush!”
As if on cue, Steven animatedly started to talk to Marc, or rather, yelling at him. It took a moment for the two Avengers to realize this and that the man on screen was not, in fact, talking to himself.
Banging. Heavy banging. Debris flew towards the panicked man, but he didn’t seem to care much. His eyes were fixated on the mirrors, his reflexion, but Cem knew better.
Bucky cocked his head.
“Really don’t wanna know what’s behind this door if I’m being honest.”
Instead of shushing him, Sam seemed to be too invested in watching the screen and might’ve actually agreed with the other.
Then it happened, almost all too fast.
The walls flickering with ancient hieroglyphs, swallowing the offensive neon lights overhead; Steven going slack-jawed, his head tipping backwards with his eyes wide open; the door bursting from it’s hinges - something entirely made a claws and teeth and hatred launching itself at the man, tearing him to the ground with all but a single care about his wellbeing.
Cem flinched, looking at the horrified faces of the men in front of him. He had too, the first time Marc had shown him the recording. Which may or may not have resulted in a very tear-filled night and also several threats towards a certain someone.
An agonized howl ripped the cook from his thoughts, redirecting his attention to the jakal having been kicked off of the man in a fairly frightening display of strength.
He stood, eyes glowing with nothing but godly light and determination as bandages from beyond their plane of existence wrapped themselves around his body, covering every inch of skin that was to be seen.
Marc didn’t waste a second to grab hold of the jakals hind legs, dragging it back into the bathroom to deliver blow after blow, increasing in fatality.
A last, pained wheeze, then; finally. The jakals body went limp, even the last twitches of pain subsiding.
The recording cut off just as Marc looked at the camera, the bandages and armor and otherwordly glow dissapearing until he was just a Marc again.
Silence.
“I know this is a lot to take in, but -”
“That was the freakiest shit I’ve ever seen!”, Sam interrupted the turk, face one of pure exasperation. “And- I’ve met a wizard, dude!”
“You’ve met a wizard dude?”
“Well he’s- nevermind. But, can you like, explain to us what the hell that just was?”, Bucky chimed in aswell. His previously emptied bottle was swiftly replaced by a new one.
Cem reached for his first.
“Okay, um, you know how I told you how Marc has DID?”
Both men nodded, something along the lines of “Duh.” written all over their faces.
“Still doesn’t explains how he turned into Casper and beat the shit out of this giant ass dog.”, Sam challenged, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
Oh dear.
“Ah…”, the cook fumbled with a bottle cab, tracing his thumb across the outer ridges. “Told you guys it was a long story. So, uh, Marc and I went to the Marines together. Was alright until he got discharged for his ‘history of mental illness’.”, Cem mocked, mimicking quotation marks with his fingers. “Anyway, we got married and joined CIA right after. Wasn’t really ours either so we ditched and he went to being a merc. That went well until-”
He stopped, blinking rapidly and licking his lips. He’d almost forgotten how much he hated talking about this part simply because of the horrid memories, but it couldn’t be avoided. Not if he genuinely wanted to get them the help they need.
Cem startled when a hand found his shoulder. He looked up to see Sam smiling at him, kind and carrying. Hmm. Bucky really seemed to have been truthfull when he’d proclaimed the others undying pledge to loyalty and kindness.
“Easy, dude, we got plenty of time. My sister and nephews will be here in ten, I’m sure she won’t mind us slackin’ a bit, okay?”, the Captain assured Cem as he squeezed his shoulder lightly.
Given how nice Sam was (and what he’d seen on his nephews Twitter), his sister surely would be as nice of a person as he’d envisioned.
A warm breeze caught them, tiny droplets of water sprinkling their faces like freckles. Cem had been too caught up in trying not to invoke the Avengers’ fury upon himself and his loves, that he’d completely missed to admire his surroundings.
The dock was hardy. Well loved too. Every blemish the cook had spotted had been taken care of; a slightly lighter colored plank, glistening nails and freshly painted handrails. People were out and about. Repairing the smaller boats, no bothering with the big one that had PAUL & DARLENE written on the side. A bunch of elderly men loudly arguing about the repair of a truck one of them had recently purchased. Children chasing after each other, their feet trampling over the weathered plank and almost crashing into a woman carrying a fairly delicious smelling pot.
As if on cue, Cems stomach rumbled.
The woman approached them, enamel pot now expertly balanced on her hip as she lifted her finger to her lips, daring the cook to say something.
Creeping closer and closer -
“Hey, where’s your husband if you don’t mind me- GOD DAMNIT! Sarah!”
Sam jumped in his seat upon being grabbed by the neck like a misbehaving kitten, his shoulders scrunching up in an instant. Both Bucky and the woman burst out laughing, the later letting him out of her grip only to ruffle over his buzzcut.
Must be his sister, then.
“Hi!” Cem stood, maybe a little too fast, laying his hand over his heart and then extending it towards her, a most welcoming smile exposing his teeth. “I’m Cem, nice to meet you!”
She took his hand, an equally as warm smile on her face.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Sarah, Sam’s sister. Did he try to invite you to the cookout already?”
Bucky snickered, obviously used to these kinds of conversation.
“Ah, not really.”, the cook confessed, scratching at his chin. “Just needed some help and I figured they could help me.”
He shrugged. Somehow this whole ordeal was starting to feel weird. Sure, he’d been really desperate (still was) when he’d sought them out for help, but that didn’t justify borderline stalking them on social media and showing up at their home uninvited.
The three exchanged a look, obviously aware of Cem’s inner turmoil. Given how none of the boys said anything, Sarah had to take matters into her own hands.
“Hey.”, she offered, putting a hand on the cooks shoulder. “Listen, how about you actually come to the cookout as I said? Everything’s better with food and I’m sure we’ll find a solution for your problem. 'kay?”
To put it mildly, Cem was stunned.
“I- yeah, yeah, that sounds… that sounds nice… uhm, can I by any chance bring someone? We can bring food aswell!”
_______________________________________
Marc hummed in approval as he finished licking the spoon his husband had just handed him clean, putting it in the hotel room sink next to the other used utensils.
So far, he had yet to discover a flaw in being married to a Michelin star chef.
Except for not being allowed to eat the curry because it was for a cookout, that was.
“You know I’m gonna be really mad if I don’t get to eat half of that later, right?”
Cem chuckled as he walked over to the mercenary and pressed a kiss to his cheek, his arm sneaking around his waist.
“Don’t you dare make a scene, you know damn well I could cook this for you anytime.”, he scolded playfully. “There’s also two Avengers there and I’m really not trying to get on their bad side.”
Marc huffed, turning in his husband’s hold to be able to look at him properly.
“I would never.”, he feigned innocence, though it was clearly betrayed by the sly smile on his face.
Cem rolled his eyes. He knew Marc was just messing with him, but he wasn’t going to be mad about it either. Instead he leaned forward, capturing his husbands lips in a tender kiss. The mercenary positively melted, his hand coming up to run his fingers through the short hair on the back of his head.
“Do we really have to go?”, Marc complained against his husbands lips, earning a mix between a groan and a chuckle. “We put on a movie, make it all nice and cozy, share that delicious kosher thai-curry you made…”
Dammit, why did he have to be so convincing? No, he had to be strong. Never show weakness.
“You know we can’t do that love.”, Cem shut the other down, as much as it pained him to do so. “Also, they seemed like genuinely nice people. I’m sure they can help.”
Marc nodded, but seemed… inattentive. His focus straying somewhere else. Following his line of view, Cem found his husband looking at the reflective surface of the hotel room dinner table; either not paying attention or speaking to one of the others.
Where they about to switch?
The cook carefully entangled himself from their embrace, putting a respectable distance in between them in case he’d be met with an alter he wasn’t… well, in a relationship with. Still, a hand on his upper arm remained to show Marc that he was still there, that he wasn’t leaving.
His lashes started fluttering; a telltale sign that someone different was about to front. A small twitch of his cheek, his breathing slowing.
Cem waited patiently as the other stood still. It had been some time since someone other than Marc had fronted, not since they’d left their appartement to catch their flight to Louisiana.
Their more or less spontaneous vacation had been booked immediately after Nazan, Cems sister, had excitedly called them to tell them that she was pregnant again.
See, you might’ve noticed already, but in this household the cook was the one with the best and most spontaneous ideas. This included booking a flight four days earlier than needed and not, as some might deem responsible adult behavior, to New York where Nazan and her husband had recently moved to, but instead to Louisiana.
To… pay some Avengers a surprise visit and ask for mental health care professional recommendations.
You know, like everyone would.
Cem looked back up and noticed that the others irises had dissapeared almost completely, his lashes still fluttering, if only lightly.
He blinked. Again. And again.
Finally, dark brown looked up, meeting Cem’s. A smile spread over his face, and the cook immediately recognized that expression.
“Well hello there…”, he greeted Steven, the corners of his mouth lifting aswell. The gift-shopist wasted no time to wrap Cem in his arms in a rather unusual display of impetuousity, burrying his face in the crook of his neck. Startled, but not negatively so, the taller reciprocrated, burying his face in the crook of Steven’s neck aswell.
“You alright?”, Cem whispered. The man nodded against the fabric of his shirt, drawing a deep breath.
A comfortable silence blanketed the two, the only sounds coming from the cook rubbing soothing circles into Steven’s back.
“We should start getting ready.”, he explained. “I told them we’d be there around five. That okay for you?”
Again, a nod.
“Yeah, yeah… Marc said they were nice?”, Steven asked, untangling himself from their embrace while fumbling with the fabric of the taller mans shirt.
Now it was Cems turn to nod in confirmation.
“Well, they were a bit intimidating at first, but they seem pretty okay. They’ve got those murderous looks down though, especially Barnes.”
Steven chuckled.
Yeah, maybe this wasn’t gonna be that bad.
_______________________________________
“You think this was a good idea?”
Sam looked up to where the other was standing in the doorway of the cabin, arms crossed over his chest.
“What, inviting Cem and Casper to the cookout?”, he replied sarcastically, tucking the photo he’d been looking at back into the window frame. Bucky shot him a look.
“No, buying only three packs of corn for the shrimp boil. Of course I mean them!”
The more or less newly minted Cap snorted, shaking his head. A small wave rocked the boat gently, but not nearly hard enough to throw the two men of balance. Neither could the soft breeze wafting through the cabin and out the window, filling their lungs with warm, salty air. Sam savored the taste as he made his way over to Bucky and gently placed a hand over his still crossed arms. The later scowled, averting his eyes.
“What if he loses control?”, he murmured, still not looking at Sam. “What if someone gets injured, hm? We’ve both seen the guy beat the shit out of that giant ass coyote.”
“It was a jackal, Buck. And I’m very sure Cem only wants to find help for his partners and that they’re not trying to do any harm. Very sure.” Bucky grumbled something under his breath, still not entirely convinced. “He also said that they can control themselves at all times, you know tha-”
“Sam, Bucky! Get your asses out here, the truck doesn’t unload itself!”
Both men groaned in unison. Almost managed to sneak away without being noticed, but no.
“Why’s Sarah so damn observant?”, the older groaned, tipping his head backwards until it hit the doorframe.
Sam snickered in agreement. Leaning forward he pressed a kiss to the other man’s cheek, staying close to his ear.
“Can’t wait 'til she busts out the toddler leashes. Did-”
“Sam!”
“Coming!”
_______________________________________
If Steven had really desired a concussion, he could’ve just rested his head against the bus window.
Thing was, he didn’t, and Cems shoulder was much more comfortable. He sighed as he made himself comfortable, his forehead resting against the others neck with his arm now around Steven’s shoulders.
The anxiety of being affectionate in public had faded from the first time they’d been out together, but it was still very much there. Sure, they had a lot of privileges and didn’t need to be nearly as cautious as others; still, even the faintest hint of a nasty look made Steven’s stomach turn.
Something, movement in his peripheral, caught his attention.
“Your think too much.”, Marc said nonchalantly, stifling a yawn.
“You say that as if it’s something new.”, another voice piped up. Where was… there. Jake’s face, distorted slightly by the single crack, looked at him from the black screen of Cems phone.
The gift-shopist remained quiet, shrugging as his only reaction. A sigh.
“We should sleep more.”, Marc tried to start up the conversation again. “Maybe getting a shrink is really not a bad idea.”
No one said anything, but the others… actually agreed. They couldn’t keep using Cem as their unpaid personal therapist anymore, that couldn’t be good for any of them. Besides, getting out of their little circle and meeting new people didn’t seem like that bad of an idea. Even Marc and Steven had caved after a, rather surprising, agreement of both Cem and Jake on the matter.
The bus jerked, smacking Steven’s head straight into the cooks jaw.
“Ah, fuck!”, Cem groaned, muffled by the hand in front of his mouth. “Bith my thongue.”
“You bit- you bit your tongue?”
Nodding, a pained expression on his face. Marc snorted.
“Stop laughing.”, Steven scolded. He reached up, carefully cradling the others jaw. The turk pinched his eyes shut, a sour expression on his face.
“Marc, ith you can hear me, you’re a thackass and I won’t thave any curry for you.”
“Wha- I didn’t even- I laughed at Steven!”, said jackass tried to defend himself.
Oh, now it was his fault.
“Marc said he laughed at me, not at you.”
Before the cook could even open his mouth for a rebuttal, an announcement bell rang throughout the bus, catching almost every passengers attention.
“Next stop: Sweetwater Guide Service & Marina.” Pause. “Prochain arrêt: Service de guides eau douce et Marina.”
The monotone women’s voice repeated the announcement twice more before quieting again.
“Come.”, Cem said as he wrestled himself out of the seating and took hold of Steven’s hand. “That’s our stop. And tell Marc this is not over yet.”
Sure enough, the bus stopped a few seconds later, opening it’s doors.
Both stepped off, hand in hand in bag with curry pot inside. Several other people had stepped of the bus with them, all loaded with food, drinks and broad smiles.
Together they made their way towards the dock, an elderly lady even striking up a conversation with them about their homemade cookings.
The dock looked even lovelier in the soft evening light, bustling with people setting tables, cooking or generally just having a wonderful time together. Steven’s grip on his hand tightened, Cem squeezing right back. He knew that big social gatherings and meeting now people wasn’t really the others forté; he also knew that they all had agreed on being in need of help and that surely no one would mind them excusing themselves for a few or leaving a bit earlier.
That was, if they didn’t deem that a danger to the general public and decided to throw hands on the spot.
“Cem! Over here!”, Sam’s voice ripped them from their thoughts, said man grinning and waving at them from a small group of people.
The cook recognized a few of them; he also recognized his partner going stiff. Another squeeze of the hand.
“Don’t worry.”, he whispered as they approached the group. “We’re all here. And we’re not afraid to kick ass.”
That actually coaxed a laugh out of the other, just as they reached the destined table.
“Hey guys!”, Wilson greeted both, a broad smile on his face. His eyes found the bag. “What did y'all bring? Smells delicious!”
_______________________________________
“And you- you got fired for vandalizing a toilet?”, Bucky wheezed, trying his best to not spit potato salad all over the table.
The others at the table were clearly amused aswell, if their expressions and poorly hidden grins were any indication.
Additionally to Sam, Bucky and Sarah there were also the laters sons, AJ and Cass. Joaquin Torrès, “Falcon in training”, had joined their little get-together shortly after the others, bringing mentioned potato salad with him.
To be fair, it was positively divine; Cem just had to ask for the recipe.
Steven blushed, staring into his plate.
“I’m just glad they didn’t press charges.”, he confessed, poking at a piece of lettuce with his fork. “Would’ve been really interesting trying to explain to the police that I was being chased by a jakal and Marc-” He sent a look towards AJ and Cass, as if contemplating what to say next. “I’m… you’ve seen the video.”
Sam and Bucky nodded. Sarah looked a little confused, but a look towards her brother who showed her the knife-across-throat gesture seemed to clear things up.
“Oh, oh okay.”, she nodded, pursing her lip. “And you had no idea you had DID?”
Steven shook his had.
“No, no idea. Cem was visiting Nazan and their parents long term at the time, so he couldn’t have cleared things up either. I really thought I was possessed or something.”
Sarah nodded again. Now she seemed even more intrigued than before.
“How did you find out then?”
“I found a phone and a storage key in my walls. Went all around London and to all the different branches, found- an ancient compass, threatened Marc with getting us locked away, saw a God and passed out.”, he shrugged, ignoring the faces the others made at the mention of a God. His hand found Cem’s under the table, the other squeezing his lightly and rubbing soothing circles into his skin. “Cem found us and we had a… conversation.”
The cook snorted.
“With conversation he means we screamed a lot and were momentarily convinced we’d gone bonkers.”
“Sorry, but can we go back to when you said you saw God?”, Bucky suddenly interrupted, his face scrunched up in disbelief. “Was that a metaphor or…?”
Steven looked up. His eyes went searching for something, scanning all over the place. They finally seemed to settle near one of the smaller boats, almost out on the water.
The others followed his line of sight, but obviously found nothing.
“Can you- can you see it?”, Torrès asked, sounding a tad bit antsy. “Is it here?”
When the gift-shopist nodded, many expressions changed. Excluding Cem. He’d seen too much shit that he rarely could be bothered to react to something miniscule like this.
“He’s looking at the water.”, Steven mentioned absent-mindedly.
The present Avengers exchanged a look.
_______________________________________
While the evening had started out a little bit concerning, it had all in all been amazing.
Cem and Steven were, as they’d found out, very pleasant company. Their thai-curry had been absolutely delicious and the later had spent almost two hours telling the a little too hyperactive kids about ancient Egypt while the cook had given them the baseline of what they were dealing with at the moment.
Turns out, they just needed a specialized psychiatrist. Maybe a few more friends. Sam and the others certainly wouldn’t mind inviting them again.
“Here.”, the hero spoke as he gave them a small piece of paper. “Call that number and say I sent you. Doctor Sherman is the best, I’m sure sure she can help you.”
“What’s the second number for?”, Cem asked as he looked at the paper Steven was holding for him to see. They were both stocked up on leftovers from the cookout, the cook holding at least six styrofoam boxes under his arm.
Sam smiled.
“That’s my number, call when you need anything. Oh and, text when you’re in the states again by any chance.”
At that Steven looked a little surprised, even more so that his other.
“I- yeah, yeah, we’ll do. Wait-”, the later fumbled around in his pocket, producing a pen and a slightly crumbled napkin. He scribbled down something, using a styrofoam box as a writing board. “Here, now you’ve got our number too. Just, call, whenever you need something too, I guess.”
He smiled someone crookedly as he handed Sarah, who was standing next to her brother, the napkin. Bucky and Torrès had said their goodbyes a little earlier, due to cranky kids and some government officials calling for their services.
“Okay. See you guys then, and get home safe!”
Goodbyes, handshakes and even a hug were exchanged until the Wilson’s decided the two were good to be sent on their way.
The walk to the bus stop was spent in comfortable silence, hand in hand and a smile on each of their faces.
Things were starting to look up. For all of them.
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M | 6.6k | No warnings but violence | Tags: soulmate marks; up all night to get Bucky; post catws; canon divergence | Summary:
The Soldier gets his soulmate mark while on a mission in 1978, September 23rd.
It rips through him like a storm, a bright iridescent burn on his back like a hundred candles igniting at once, searing his skin beneath the leather.
He drops the rifle and unbuckles the straps that bind him. In the filthy rooftop window, he sees his reflection: his back alight with a pair of wings so beautiful and vivid it’s nearly blinding.
Really proud of this work, it too me literally forever to paint this, but I hope its worth it. Painting calms me down. Sam and Bucky are very tender in this picture, they are happy and love each other. this is an intimate moment and it seems that nothing else matters to them. There are only them in this world. That’s sweet.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Joaquin Torres x Sam Wilson Rating: ❗Explicit❗ Tags: Threesome, Double Penetration, Sex Toys, Pet Names, Blowjobs/face straddling, Top Bucky, Top Sam, Bottom Joaquin
This is a sequel to “butterfly” in which Joaquin has given up hope on ever being fucked by Sam and Bucky again, and figures he might as well help himself.
So, the thing is, Joaquin has been on edge ever since — The Mission.
The one where both his partners fucked him silly, with a sort-of promise for more, except it’s been two months and there’s been nothingdespite having been on missions with each of them.
Did he hallucinate the whole fucking thing?
He’s pretty sure he didn’t, because he was still sore as hell the next day and a bit. He’s pretty sure because Bucky and Sam both look at him with an extra glint in their eyes. He’s pretty sure because Bucky will casually call him darling and sweetheart and Sam is winking at him when nobody else is looking.
Still, he has nothing to show for it.
The next mission, he decides, fuck it, he’s not getting laid by these two again, and whatever that’s fine, he guesses. He’ll bringcompany.
Except, the next mission is also a doozy. They had to clear out one of AIM’s hideouts, and there were just so many of them. More than they anticipated, anyway, and way more evidence to take back with them. They’re going to have to call another jet out.
“Now what?” Joaquin asks.
“Looks like we’re staying,” Sam declares. “Hotel, then. There’s one two klicks north.”
They walk to the hotel, causally, like Joaquin’s not dying on the inside to ask them both if they’re gonna fuck him again.
But, you know, professionalism and all. So he nods, and smiles, corrects Bucky on the score for the Knicks game from last night and answers Sam’s questions about why it’s so fucking hot outside.
The correct answer was global warming, not the fact that Joaquin has an unbearable desire to ride either of them. Both of them.
It’s no surprise when they get two separate rooms, but it’s still disappointing.
It’s fine. It’s fine. Because unlike the previous times he’d been an idiot, this time, he’s actually brought relief with him. He’s past the point of embarrassment, really. If they weren’t going to fuck him, he would simply have to fuck himself.
“Night,” he chirps cheerfully as he waves at them, passing by them.
“Night, baby bird,” Bucky croons and Joaquin nearly brains himself on the doorway to his room.
No matter, Joaquin thinks, still a little nervous. He first takes a shower to calm himself, to wash away the mission stress and sweat. As the water cascades around him, he starts to relax, his hands drifting downward. Biting his lip to keep quiet – damn Bucky’s enhanced hearing – he thinks about the way Sam and Bucky move, all rippling muscle and perfectly executed maneuvers. He closes his eyes, recalling the way Sam flies and the way Bucky could so easily deflect a hailstorm of bullets with just his arm.
He takes his time under the steamy spray, sneaking his finger inside himself. Belatedly, he wishes he’d brought his toy with him, but he supposes the wait would be worth it. He cleans himself thoroughly, letting his body melt under the cooling water as he swallows and his fingers slipping in and out. Leaning his forehead against the tiles, he fingers himself slowly, eyes closed as he fantasizes about the both of them. He thinks back to the first time, to the feeling of both of them, and the stretch. Oh, that had him sore for a while.
The water’s running out of heat now, so he takes it as his cue to step out, hard and aching. In his travel bag, he takes out his beloved Kraken, his heart starting to race again. He eyes their conjoining door, which he knows he locked, but there’s something still thrilling about doing this so close to them.
Nervously, he goes to check the lock again, but as he nears the door he can hear…Well, everything.
“God, fuck, Sammy, always so tight, angel.
“Buck, baby, come on, all the way. Can handle it.”
“Mm, gonna let me fuck you right through the wall, aren’t ya?”
“Yeah, fuck, yes, harder.”
Joaquin’s entire body tingles at the exchange, and he curses himself, his cock twitching for attention. He’d accidentally just overheard something right out of his spank bank.
Why am I being tortured like this?? He scrambles into bed now, burning with impatience. He’d planned on continuing his activities from the shower, the slow, sensual fingering, but that plan is out the window now.
With a generous amount of lube, he slicks up his dildo, closes his eyes and brings up the same memory that he’s been jerking off to for months now.
“Yeah, sweetheart,” Bucky croaked. “Let me come inside you, huh?”
“Gonna let your Captain fuck you silly?”
“And are you gonna be good, and suck your Sergeant off?”
“Well, ain’t that a sight.”
Joaquin’s eyes fly open as he looks up, to Sam standing at the foot of his bed, arms crossed over his bare, broad chest with a smirk.
“Well, I can see why you didn’t hear us checkin’ in on ya,” Bucky murmurs, sidling up to the side of the bed, in just a pair of briefs.
Joaquin, still frozen and impaled on his own toy, he’d apparently been so lost in thought that he hadn’t heard them call for him, or, maybe, he’d just thought it was part of his fantasy.
“Uh –”
Bucky grins and leans against the dresser beside the bed. “Well, don’t let us interrupt you.”
He’s close enough that Torres can make out the outline of his semi-hard cock in the black briefs.
Christ, is he drooling? Maybe.
“Not yet,” Bucky answers.
Oops, was that out loud?
His brain finally reboots, and he slowly pulls the Kraken out of himself, biting his lip to stop himself from moaning.
“Nuh-uh,” Sam says, kneeling on the bed between Joaquin’s legs, nudging the toy back in. “We were enjoying the show.
Joaquin flushes from head to toe, and he really can’t hold back the groan at feeling Sam pushing it back in him. It’s like he can feel every ridge and bump as Sam takes his time inching in. Clutching the hotel sheets beneath him, his toes curl as Sam begins to slowly fuck him with it, licking his lips.
“Please tell me I’m not dreaming,” Joaquin manages, looking up at Bucky. Bucky, who’s tugged his briefs down and is casually jerking himself off.
Oh my god. Joaquin swallows dryly, watching Bucky watch him. The briefs are stretched dangerously over Bucky’s Thighs™, digging into the muscle, and Joaquin wants to tear them off. With his teeth.
“Aw,” Bucky chuckles. “Did you think we forgot about you, baby bird?”
“Couldn’tpossibly forget about this,” Sam jumps in, with a particularly deep thrust, causing Joaquin to cry out. “But looks like you just couldn’t wait for us, huh?”
“I did!” Joaquin blurts out. “Fuck, I waited – so long.”
“Iunno,” Bucky contemplates, finally — finally– coming closer, stepping out of his last article of clothing. “How do we know you haven’t been getting off like this, without us, the whole time?
“I haven’t, I haven’t,” Torres blabbers, his feet dragging up the bed as Sam continues his tortuous assault. “Promise.”
“Oh, you promise, huh?” Sam mocks, stilling. Then, he puts a firm hand over the base of the tentacle, keeping Joaquin filled.
“Iswear,” Joaquin tries again. Anything to get them fucking. “S’not – not enough, not you, god, please…”
Bucky surges forward to kiss Joaquin fiercely, and Joaquin makes a needy noise. It’s like Joaquin had been stranded in the desert and Bucky was an oasis. He hangs onto the back of Bucky’s neck with both his hands, as if trying to keep him there, though Bucky could obviously easily pull away. He feels Bucky smile against his lips.
“Baby slut, you jus’ trying to make us feel better now?”
“No, I swear,” Joaquin protests vehemently. “I want you, both of you, think about it all the time, toy’s not enough –”
“Prove it,” Sam challenges, with a small push on the dildo. Joaquin’s legs try to close, but Sam pries them open again. “Nuh-uh, none of that now. Go on, you were saying something about missing our cocks, weren’t you?”
“Sammy, ever the genius,” Bucky adds, now also kneeling on the bed, beside Joaquin’s head. “Miss my cock so much? Then prove it.”
He shivers at the growl in Bucky’s voice and instantly takes Bucky’s heavy cock in his mouth. He moans, sucking greedily because he’s determined to show them he meant every word. His hands reach out to skim up the muscular thighs, and he squeezes them, simultaneously jealous and turned on.
“Fuckingdammit,” Bucky curses, his hips starting to rock slowly in time with Joaquin’s eager bobbing. Bucky smells like sex and Sam’s body wash, which inexplicably makes Joaquin that much more turned on. Which really, really shouldn’t be possible.
“Come on, you can both do better than that,” Sam goads, spitting in his hand to wrap around Joaquin’s neglected dick, while slowly taking the toy out.
Can I? Joaquin thinks to himself, because he’s doubting his abilities to even think let alone do better. Do better, like: take Bucky’s dick down like a champ the way he wantsto. Sam runs his fingers through the mess at Joaquin’s hole, making a content noise, and taking himself in hand. He helps himself to the lube that Joaquin’s left on the bed before smoothing his free hand up Joaquin’s thigh, stopping to cup his balls lightly.
He makes a noise muffled around Bucky’s cock when Sam nudges at his entrance. Bucky pulls himself out, so they can both watch Sam push in and while Joaquin hisses out in pleasure, Bucky rumbles hungrily.
“Fuck, you feel good, baby J,” Sam purrs, his hands underneath Joaquin’s thighs to hold his legs open. “So nice and wet for me, all prepped like a good boy. Now come on, get back to it. Now try not to bite down, I’m pretty fond of Bucky’s dick.”
I’m fond of Bucky’s everything.
“Tch,” is all Bucky replies with, before he gracefully hikes his leg over on the other side, until he’s straddling Joaquin’s face.
OH.Joaquin quickly gets his hands back on Bucky’s Thighs™ — Jesus, they feel amazing, especially when he flexes them to get deeper in Joaquin’s throat. He’s doing his best to tilt his head and relax his throat for Bucky, but his eyes are watering regardless, especially when Sam keeps inching in slowly. The headboard creaks dangerously under Bucky’s vibranium hand, while the other gently skims along Joaquin’s cheek and neck, no doubt feeling himself inside Joaquin’s mouth. Fuck, that’s hot.
“Mmff!” He lets his nails dig into the meat of Bucky’s legs, daring to get his hands on Bucky’s ass to wordlessly say keep going.
“Ooh, now that’s an idea,” Sam sings. “Yeah, baby, you keep your hands there, spread him open for me, just like that.”
It hadn’t even occurred to Joaquin that he was doing anything other than hanging on for dear life, but he feels Sam’s hand over his, pushing on it, forcing him to really grab a handful of Bucky’s ass. The moan Bucky lets out spurs him on, driving Joaquin to really knead at the ever-moving glutes in his hands.
Sam’s hand moves up Bucky’s back, urging Bucky to lower himself a bit, and Joaquin nearly yelps when Sam tugs him up enough he ends up in Sam’s lap.
“Fuck!”
Joaquin’s eyes fly upward, and he stares in fascination as Bucky’s jaw goes slack, his eyes fluttering. His hips stutter, cock jerking inside Joaquin’s mouth as he turns his face into his own arm, panting.
“Mmm, taste like heaven, baby.” Sam’s voice is muffled, and it’s then that Joaquin realizes Sam’s got his tongue inside Bucky’s ass, while Joaquin’s spreading him open. Bucky swallows a groan, his body shuddering.
Oh, fuck, Bucky’s about to come. Joaquin hollows his cheeks to try and bring Bucky over the finish line.
“God,” Bucky’s strangled voice manages as he comes, hard enough to make Joaquin splutter and cough as he swallows the endless fountain greedily. There’s just so much of it, that he feels some of the hot fluid escape, leaking out of the corners of his mouth onto the pillow below. Bucky swipes his finger up Joaquin’s face, and with his deep blue eyes, unblinking, he dips his fingers in Joaquin’s mouth to clean off.
As Bucky rolls off, dropping onto the mattress beside them, Joaquin watches his chest rising as he catches his breath, dog tags catching the light every now and then.
“My turn,” Sam declares, wiping his face off with the back of his hand.
“Gnnh –” Before Joaquin can finish, Sam descends on his mouth like a man starved, and his pace picks up instantly as well. He lets out a string of curses, clutching onto Sam’s well-built shoulders like a life-raft as his legs lock behind Sam’s back.
He’s so close, when Sam stops abruptly – too quickly for him to have come already, and Joaquin tries to lift his head to see what was wrong.
Sam meets his eyes, with a challenging grin. “You wanna come on my cock –”
Joaquin nods furiously, because he was rightthere.
“Or… You wanna come on both our cocks?” Sam finishes his question, pulling himself out, and watches as Joaquin’s brain churn.
“YES,” Joaquin nearly shouts, ravenous by now. “Both – please, fuck.” He drops back on the pillow, his own precome smeared all over his stomach.
Bucky rolls Joaquin on top of him to kiss him absolutely stupid before he nudges at Joaquin’s open hole, dick hard again. Sliding in with barely any resistance, his face is of pure bliss.
“Oh, sweetheart, you stretched him open for me,” Bucky says to Sam with a grin.
“Pfft, he would’ve been all open and waiting for you anyway, isn’t that right, baby?” Sam demands an answer with a light slap to Joaquin’s exposed cheek.
“Y-es,” Joaquin moans.
“Good,” Bucky soothes, rolling his hips upward, building a nice steady rhythm to get himself to full hardness. “Come join me, angel, s’nice and tight in here.”
Sam doesn’t need to be told twice. He drinks in the sight of Joaquin stretched out over Bucky, aroundBucky.
“Oh, baby, if only you could see this, lord,” Sam curses, his hands feasting appreciatively over the smooth flesh of Joaquin’s ass.
“Mmhmm,” Bucky moans, mostly because his tongue is busy inside Joaquin’s mouth, taking him apart bit by bit.
“Safe word still butterfly?” Sam asks.
“Mmhmm,” Joaquin answers, because Bucky’s tongue – “Ah!”
“Oh,” Sam breaths out as he nudges the head of his cock in.
“Yeah, theeeere we go,” Bucky chimes in, his face looking completely blissful.
Joaquin has missed this, has craved this ever since Moscow. It burns just as much as the first time, enough to make his whole body quiver, and he’s so glad that Bucky has no problems whatsoever supporting his weight since his arms have become useless.
Sam rocks in, inch by inch, and Bucky’s tensed up underneath him, desperately holding himself back. It’s so very reminiscent of the first time in Mogilevich’s bed that Joaquin nearly laughs, a little delirious.
“Still afraid you’re gonna shatter my hips?” Joaquin asks lightly, dick-drunk. Bucky smirks up at him, nipping at Joaquin’s chin.
“If I did, it’d mean no more fucking for you,” he answers coolly, while he bucks upward just once, causing Joaquin to shout out, tears prickling his eyes.
“Fucking hell,” Sam cusses, his hands digging into Joaquin’s hips even harder. “Almost there baby.”
At least this time around, Joaquin had known what to expect. How it would feel like he was being ravaged, how he’d come this close to calling his safe word, how stretched he would feel. It’s only because of this that he manages to keep “butterfly” to himself, and instead whine.
“Just a bit more, baby slut,” Bucky coos in his ear.
Ohfuck.
Hesobs – the pleasure, the closeness, the names, all of it has his head floating in the clouds. When they’re finally — finally— both seated in him, he lets out a breath, which nearly seems impossible with how full he is.
“Nggguh.”
“That’s a good boy,” Sam praises, dropping a kiss on Joaquin’s spine while Bucky takes the liberty of marking up his neck.
“M – mo – move,” Joaquin begs. “Please, fuck, please.”
“Hmm, Bucky, why don’t you take the lead this time?”
“Fuck, yeah,” Bucky agrees enthusiastically, already rolling his hips upward, causing Joaquin to scratch down his chest. “Mmm, wanna try and mark me up, huh? Yeah, you go ahead, baby.”
God, fucking, fuck, shit –
“Eloquent,” Bucky teases, stilling. “D’ya need a moment?”
“No, god, no,” Joaquin shakes his head, sweat lining his forehead as Sam’s hands rake down his sides.
Sam leans over his shoulder, to give Bucky an absolutely filthy kiss that reverberates in his ear. “Come on Buck, you gonna make us come or what?”
Bucky growls and flips them all over, pinning Sam to the bed with Joaquin lying on top. While it pulled a surprised yelp out of Joaquin, Sam seems to have expected it, since he chuckles softly and wraps his hands under Joaquin’s thighs. He rolls up into Joaquin slowly as Bucky starts to build up his own rhythm before he starts to pump faster.
The sensation of both of them moving in tandem inside him, stretching him to his limits, has him crying, the pathetic sounds coming out between thrusts. He’s so close to coming that he has to wrap a hand tightly around the base of his cock so he doesn’t blow.
“So goddamn tight,” Sam slurs, his hips faltering. “Perfect fucking ass, baby, and all for us.”
“Yeah, such a good little fuckhole,” Bucky groans against Joaquin’s neck “Let go, sweetheart.”
Sam grunts underneath them, chasing the feeling as his mouth drops open euphoria. “Come on, come with me, baby bird.”
GNAH. Joaquin’s going to die via orgasm, he’s sure of it.
“Y–eah, mhm,” Joaquin pants. “Yes, yes!”
Bucky bats Joaquin’s hand away from his dick, pinning his wrists to the best. “Hang on.”
I can’t believe he has the audacity to wink at me, this mother – FUCK.
He doesn’t know how he could possibly do anything other than writhe between them and come harder than he has in his entire goddamn life. It’s with a strangled, hoarse cry and a tear rolling down his cheek that Bucky chases with his tongue.
“Can feel the both of you, y’know,” Bucky tells him, his voice husky and strained as he snaps his hips, rubbing against Sam’s softening cock, squelching as he forces the come out of Joaquin’s swollen hole. “Feels like – fuck– heaven.”
Joaquin’s so thankful for Sam’s hands holding his legs in place, because his body’s completely given out. The only thing he feels is the drag of Bucky’s cock, furiously fucking into him hard enough that he can’t get any words out. His breaths come out in punched out puffs of air as he grits his teeth. His cock aches, body empty, but fuck does he want to come again just like this, with Bucky’s teeth in the meat of his shoulder. Bucky comes with a rumbling that Joaquin can feel in his chest, licking at the mark he’s just made, while Sam sucks an identical one on the other side of his neck.
He’s died, and gone to heaven.
“Not quite,” Sam murmurs into his ear, laughing softly.
Fuck, he’s gotta stop thinking he’s talking in his head when he’s actually talking out loud.
“Maybe,” Bucky quips, slowly pulling out, dragging Sam’s cock out along with him. They sigh in relief while Joaquin hisses, cutting off another choked sob. Sam rolls him over onto their sides, still spooned up behind him, his hands running up and down Joaquin’s side, soothingly.
“Did good, baby,” Sam whispers as Bucky wipes them down with a warm towel before climbing into bed with them, pecking Joaquin softly.
“Mhm,” Bucky hums, letting Joaquin’s grabby hands pull him in. He tucks Joaquin’s head under his chin, his arm thrown across the other two. “Sogood.”
God, he wants to stay like this forever.
“Sure thing, sweetheart.”
Oops.
Thank you for reading! Hopefully you’ve enjoyed enough to check out my masterlist for other thingies.
A cover of Vormir, Sam diving downward, the phrase “Everything I’ve Loved Became Everything I’ve Lost”, the sacrifical grounds of Vormir, and Bucky crying.
T || 1,712 || James ‘Bucky’ Barnes/Sam Wilson || Pre-canon, fluff & angst, one-shot, roommates
There is a shift and they do not talk about it, perhaps he misread him. But when they’re sat here, in an empty room with the soundproof walls and only Dr Raynor to watch, Bucky cannot think of anything he wants to say.
He scoffs, it’s almost laughable what they had once meant to each other.
A: Oh, nothing. You’re just not exactly known for caring about people you don’t like, or think are stupid, or get on your nerves etc. So yeah… figured you wouldn’t remember me.
B: What is THAT supposed to mean, huh?! Don’t you remember we did that thing together!?
A: I remember YOU constantly criticising my every move, YEAH! OF COURSE I REMEMBER ?! But not YOU ever CARING ABOUT ME?!?
B: THAT’S LITERALLY WHAT I SAID?!?
A:NO, IT’S NOT?!
B: WHY WOULD I GIVE SOMEONE ADVICE TO DO BETTER IF I DONT CARE ABOUT THEM , HUH?!?
My full piece for @tfatwszine~ Just A Couple of Guys zine is having a Leftover Sale! If you missed the opportunity to buy the first time around, here’s your chance!
