He should have seen this coming. He noticed the distinct spicy scent of the alpha following him across the continent, always chasing him and never too far behind. He thinks he knows what the alpha wants, it was written plainly on that beautifully bruised face as they fought on the helicarrier. He knows that the alpha wants him to remember their past, their connection, what they mean to each other. It’s difficult to reconcile with that, how someone can know him so well when he has barely grasped at the straws of his own name. James Buchanan Barnes - designation Alpha - a sergeant in World War Two, best friend to Captain America, Steven Grant Rogers - designation Alpha. He knows what the museum exhibit says. What he doesn’t yet know is what his own heart says. Well, he knows some things but they have nothing to do with his heart and more to do with the dick that rests between his thighs. The damn thing won’t let him get a moments reprieve. It wakes him up at night, all hard, as if begging for attention. He never had to deal with that before he broke through decades worth of programming. His memories are sparse at best but sometimes he does get images pushing their way into his thoughts. Sometimes those images come with feelings, others don’t. The ones with Steve in them, leave him feeling all sorts of things. Sometimes when he dreams, he swears he can feel the phantom sensation of lips pressed against his own, of hands bruising his hips as something hard and hot pistons in and out of his asshole. The sensations always fade away when he wakes up, leaving him with a sense of bereft-ness that threatens to swallow him whole.
He really should have seen this coming. That alpha’s scent fills his nose as he walks into the kitchen of the apartment he’s been staying in. The alpha, Steve, is kneeling and using the wall to support his weight. James’ heart clenches at the sight, it reminds him of a young blond that used to fight every winter to survive. He rushes over to kneel before the other alpha when it hits him. The cloying aroma of cinnamon and cloves. It’s a familiar scent and something knocks loose in the back of his mind, but those memories are still foggy at best.
“Bucky.”
The other alpha latches onto him. The scent infiltrates his nose as he tries to keep both of them steady. It’s difficult though. The aroma seems to seeps his into pores, polluting his bloodstream as if he has been given an injection. A haze settles over his vision, rendering everything in shades of pale pinks and reds. His skin heats up, warmth pools in his lower belly. His eyes begin to water, going half lidded as he tries to get the other alpha’s attention.
“Steve, you— you’re in rut.”
“Need you, Buck.”
A small, sad sound erupts from the back of his throat. “I’m not him, Steve. I can’t give you whatever he used to—
A surprised squeal, that James will vehemently deny, slips from his lips as Steve carries him into his own room and tosses him onto the bed. Before he can even register what just happened, Steve is tugging his pajama pants down. He’s at a loss. He truly doesn’t understand what Steve thinks he’ll accomplish here. James is an alpha through and through, there’s a knot at the base of his dick that swells when he’s worked up enough. There’s nothing he can offer an alpha in rut.
A wisp of an image plays in his mind’s eye. Vaguely he can see himself kneeling before Steve but the hair is wrong. His hair is shorter and Steve cuts an intimidating figure in his memory. He can feel the slightest touch of a hand on the back of his neck, pressing in on his scent glands. He shudders in the memory, the action reflected in the present as he reacts to Steve’s rut scent. It’s almost overpowering now.
“My Bucky, need my Bucky.” Steve’s voice sounds like gravel has been poured down his throat.
He watches as the other alpha furiously rips the shirt off his own back. A series of broken chirps fall from his lips at the sight. James covers his mouth in surprise, he doesn’t think he’s ever made a sound like that before. Only omegas and pups can do that. He kneels up in the bed before slowly easing over to the edge. Steve is distracted and he is still the damn Winter Soldier, he can make it out of this apartment before the other alpha knows he’s gone. He could fight but that would bring unnecessary attention to him, so he doesn’t. He inches toward the still open door. He’s naked but so focused on his goal, he doesn’t notice that Steve is completely naked as well, and advancing on him. He’s almost through the door when Steve lifts him bodily into the air and carries him back to the bed.
Saliva trickles into Steve’s fully grown beard from his bared mouth. Steve’s fangs are elongating right before his eyes. The other alpha’s pupils are blown wide open and the growl that bursts free sends ice down James’ spine. A plaintive whine slips uncontrollably from his lips, he shocks his own self into silence. His eyes grow wide as he slaps a hand over his mouth again. Steve is going feral and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. His heart begins to beat frantically within the confines of his ribcage, his flesh palm grows clammy. His metal hand clenches hard in reflex, the whirring from his arm ominous in the silence between them. He doesn’t understand why he’s reacting this way to an alpha in rut, a feral alpha in rut.
“My sweet ‘mega, love you so much.”
The momentary smoothness of the alpha’s voice before it settles back into that gravelly pitch runs through him, makes him shiver but not as if left out in the cold. Warmth trickles down his spine then and curls around his heart, his body still almost frozen in place. It’s like he has just been given a command but that’s impossible, he has no handlers. What is this? He can barely move beyond the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. He’s wary to look Steve in the eye, almost afraid of what he might see in those blown pools. But wait, did Steve just call him an omega?
“Steve?” The alpha in question flips him over onto his stomach instead of replying. A warm hand presses against his scent glands. The pink and red haze comes back bringing with it a peculiar heat that fills his veins that reminds him of the rare ruts he endured ever since he got free. His body relaxes under Steve's touch. It’s when those hands pull him up and onto his knees that he realizes what’s going on. “Steve! I’m not an omega, I can’t help you like this!”
That hand at his neck squeezes against his glands again, he quiets down. The warmth floods his senses, flashes of color light up behind his eyes. The barely there clink of metal on metal is his only warning before his left arm is jerking toward one of the bed posts. He tries to yank it back but there’s a cuff holding his arm hostage. His metal limb isn’t responding to him. None of his flesh and blood limbs are either. He can barely jerk his hips away from the hands spreading his cheeks apart, exposing him to the elements. He whimpers at the cool breeze he feels on his hole.
“Relax, ‘mega, this is the only way.”
“Wait Steve,” he slurs. “What do you mean?”
The words are barely out of his mouth before a blunt, hot head is forcing its way into his hole. His eyes widen then. The sensation sends adrenaline coursing through his veins. With a burst of energy, he yanks his metal arm hard and cries in relief when the cuff breaks. The sound of the metal twisting grates on his ears. He tries to buck Steve off of him but the alpha’s hands are clamped around his waist, his grip is too tight on James’ flesh. He tries once more but all that does is help Steve ease his way inside. James chokes on what little air is making its way into his nose when one hand makes its way back onto his glands. The resulting squeeze sends James’ vision into a pink haze once more and it’s all Steve needs to ram his cock all the way inside.
James mouth drops open but no sounds slip from his lips. It’s like he can’t breathe because he can practically feel Steve all the way in his throat. It’s not a pleasant feeling. There’s a searing ache that keeps building as his hole is torn open. Nothing could have prepared him for this. The burn intensifies as Steve’s thrusts become rougher. A whine finally rips from his throat and they don’t stop, they keep falling from his lips. James doesn’t understand how he got here, he never saw this coming. He never would have dreamed that the man who was the catalyst of his torture ending becoming a giver a pain.
“Please.” His plea falls on deaf ears. Either that or Steve just doesn’t care to listen anymore. James can hear him muttering filth but does his level best to tune everything out. It’s difficult, the pain in his backside continues as his hole is brutally taken. It’s when the feeling of something white-hot catching on his rim garners his attention that James finally understands what’s going to happen. He begins his struggle anew as Steve’s knot continues to expand. He cries out when Steve leans over him, licking at his neck.
There is no warning before an excruciating ache lances through him from both ends. Steve’s knot seems to completely obliterate any tightness that could have been left, he feels so open. He can’t clench his hole. The rush of heat as Steve spills inside of him gives way to stings as semen seeps into the tears in his flesh. The needle-like intrusions in his neck sharpen until teeth pierce deeply into his mating gland. Unable to handle the compounding sensations as they continue to build, James’ vision goes black.
Bucky wakes slowly. The scent of sex heavy in the room as he stretches. He hisses at the tenderness in his neck and his ass. Reaching up, he feels the marks on his neck and his eyes widen almost comically. He shifts in the bed and whimpers immediately. His ass hurts. He doesn’t even dare feel around there. Looking over to the side, he sees Steve standing by an open window. Stevie?
“Stevie, what— what’s goin’ on?” He asks, shifting onto his side. “Why does it feel like I’ve been to rode hard and put away wet?”
“Buck?” Bucky’s brows furrow when he fully takes Steve in when the man faces him. The alpha is naked, there’s blood drying on his lips, and his cock is hard. “Sorry, Sweetheart, but I’ve got to finish this.”
“Finish what?” Although the pain in his ass and the sinking feeling in his belly already tell him what happened. Something is seriously wrong here. He’s weak and can barely move as it is. He’s alarmed when Steve climbs onto the bed and settles behind him, between his thighs. “No, wait Steve—”
His protests are cut off by the sharp keen that tears from his throat as Steve spreads his cheeks wide. He can feel everything. Steve is manipulating his flesh, digging his hands into his skin. His ass is on fire, it feels like one giant bruise. Tears fill his eyes before falling onto his cheeks as Steve positions him on his knees. He can’t do anything but take it when Steve pushes his cock into his sloppy hole.
Memories of him in a similar position fill his thoughts. He and Steve had walked a ways from the Howlies. Things had gotten heated between them and before he knew it, he was taking Steve’s cock like he was an omega in heat. That was so much better than this. At least then, Steve had made it good for him. He doesn’t understand how Steve has fallen so far, how Steve could take him like this. How Steve could bitch him.
A particularly brutal thrust reminds him of exactly how this happened. Steve was feral when he first took him. Now? He doesn’t really care to find out. He just closes his eyes and hopes for it to be over soon.
Bucky sits in a rocking chair on the cabin porch holding a baby in his arms. The pup is a perfect mixture of him and Steve, dark hair with a divot in their chin. The shade of their blue eyes an exact mirror to his alpha’s.
A shift in the wind brings with it Steve’s scent as his alpha drives up the hill toward their little corner of the universe. They had a rough start, sure, but he would never go changing anything. He is home now, safe and sound.
ns 15.158.61.20da2
