For geriatric

[infligere]

Who: Brock Rumlow & Steve Rogers
When: After Soul bond - Timeskipping to Post-TWS
What: Rumlow and Steve deal with the shitty fall out of being stuck together after all that crap went down. They might even have sex for once.
Warnings: Maybe sex?


[He'd kissed Steve once after the Lemurian Star mission, but they'd made it no further than that in the year that they had known they were bonded. There were close calls, frustration and more than his share of horrible hard-ons that always seemed to appear whenever Steve walked into the room with him. They had gotten worse too, and the painful resistance only made his blood run hotter for the national icon.

No one knew about them.

And then HYDRA had been exposed, Insight had been destroyed, the new world order set to bring about peace in shambles and Brock Rumlow found himself confined to a hospital bed under going more skin grafts than he thought he had skin for. Like everyone involved in STRIKE and HYDRA, his name had been blown right open with some of the missions he had done, some of the missions where he had aimed the asset to set the world on a set future. Well, like his skin, everything had burned.

Steve, good guy that the man was, hadn't decapitated him. Most of their meetings involved asking him for information or sitting in silence with only the soft beep of machines their music. He hadn't apologized, not for any of it. It hadn't been personal, though he recognized that the only reason he was staying out of jail or worse was because of Steve's influence and the fact he was set to be the poor bastard's soul bond. Good guy, Rogers... too bad they stood on opposite sides of the scale.

So he'd recovered and mostly looked the same, though the scarring was evident in certain light or if he ever got wet. His life's work was gone in flames, and the only reason that he didn't kill himself was because of Steve. Even as unbonded as they were, he knew at this stage in the game the ripping of a compatible soul - which was laughable at best - would probably reduce Rogers to shambles for a little while. So he didn't; his one perhaps non-selfish act so far. He hoped Rogers didn't plan for more because he wasn't giving any more.

He also totally had it bad for Steve now that he had a body that wasn't about to fall apart on him. He had, by now, given up trying to hide his attraction. It was pointless. He'd either bone the guy soon or eat that bullet he was owed.]

Comments

this thread is so fucked LMFAO

[geriatric]

[ The sweatpants slide down and off and as an afterthought, he works off anything else that the man is wearing. With that finished, his hands slide up Rumlow's legs, over his knees and up his thighs. It seems strange to enjoy touching the guy who'd caused them so much trouble - who'd stabbed him in the back, but some part of his brain still enjoys this.

Steve tilts his head into the touch, leaning in and over Rumlow's thighs, sliding his hand up so the breath trails over his cock. It's strange as hell, handling one that isn't his own, but at the very least he knows how this works. It's even stranger not wearing much to do this, but that part isn't as much of a concern.

Shifting in, he drags his tongue up the underside, tracing the vein there, and eases his mouth down, lips and tongue sliding over the flushed head, licking salt off of it. He withdraws after a moment, glancing up at him. ] You try to hit me and I'll leave.

But you are loving every moment of its dysfunction

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[There was some appreciation in getting stripped, and he lounged around on the couch as comfortably naked as he had when he was fully clothed. It certainly didn't change his mind about letting Rogers get a mouth on him that was for certain. There was as much a risk to him as there was to his bond. He punched Rogers, he had no doubt the guy would bite and that would be a real shame for them both.

He released a sigh at the caress of hands over his legs, parting them a little further to accommodate Steve's broad shoulders. Once the other man was settled between his legs, he went as far to show how comfortable he was with this by lifting a leg and draping it over his bond's shoulder, heel sliding down Steve's back in response to the sudden wetness on his erection, a shiver running through him.

And seriously, being a cock-tease already? He looked down at Steve and smirked.] No you won't. I punch you and we'll be on the floor humping like a pair of rabbits. I guarantee it.

sob yes

[geriatric]

[ The idea of Rumlow punching him and him biting down in return just doesn't appeal in any way, shape or form. Steve shifts a little bit to better accommodate the other man's leg, pressing in closer. The tone of everything shifted a bit - less brutal, angry, and more tentative on his part as he tries to figure out how to do this, how to make it good. ]

Don't test me, Rumlow.

[ He's not sure how much the threat is worth when he's still bending down, still curling a hand around the thickness of Rumlow's cock and sliding down, swallowing him like there's nothing else in the world he wants in his mouth more than this. (For the moment, it's true; there isn't any thing else that he wants.)

The taste and feel of him on his tongue is strange enough as it is, salty and heavy, and Steve blames the lack of gagging on years of being sick and having any manner of things jammed in his mouth to try and do tests and figure out how to fix him. He slides up with a slick noise and focuses his mouth on the tip for the moment, finding that easier, using his fist and the resulting slickness to jerk him off while his tongue drags over the wet head. ]

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Aww, you can't expect any less from me. It'd get boring if I wasn't testing or pushing you.

[Of course, any other sort of crass he might have thought to give was immediately silenced with Steve's mouth on him like that. Even with the clear inexperience, it still somehow felt like the best damn hot little mouth he had ever had on him. It was the bond he knew, but his hips rose towards the mouth and tongue that lavished such fine awkward attention on him.

His fingers of both hands card into Steve's hair, not only purposefully messing it up but also enjoying the feel of it through his fingers. His head fell back on the couch and he issued a throaty groan of approval, his hips rolling with the pleasure of the teasing of both tongue and hand on his erection. He didn't even bother to hold back to cuss that whispered beyond his lips. Yeah, he was doing it right.]

[geriatric]

[ The strangest thing was that he was getting off on this too. He was getting off on Rumlow's pleasure, on his reactions, on the twist of his body underneath Steve's hands and mouth. It was a rush all on its own, having him react like that, greedy and eager, because of something Steve was doing.

He makes a throaty noise at the hand in his hair, parting his lips wider to let Rumlow's cock slip in and out with ease, flushing at the way it sounds, the lewd wet noises as he swallows spit and precome and bobs his head down over him. For all that this might be new, he's eager enough for it and enthusiasm makes it a hell of a lot easier to learn how to do this right. Steve catches a rhythm - it isn't perfect, but it's clear he tries, and each time Rumlow's cock slips further back, he's able to take him a little more. His free hand slips down, sliding up and over the other man's balls, mimicking what he likes, figuring he'll tell him if he does something he doesn't like. ]

[infligere]

[Brock was used to instructing people or at least telling them what to do. Even heavy into his pleasure, it's easy to use his hands to ease Steve's head one way or another with gentle urging, though not entirely necessary. Rogers had enthusiasm and a willingness to learn, and that hot mouth was not doing the man fewer favours either. He made certain to moan or curse when Steve was doing something right, something he liked in particular. He was also just as certain to not react to anything that he didn't.

Yet soon enough it was less about instruction and more about them sharing this pleasure. His hips encouraged a rhythm, pressing into Steve's mouth as his fingers massaged any part of his bond's scalp that he can reach, his breathing getting heavier and his cussing far more often as pleasure soaked through. He let out a strangled noise that sounded a lot like 'fuuuuuuuuck' drawn out at the sudden caress to his balls, hips jumping and fingers tightening. He knew he was getting closer the longer they explored, and he forced his chin towards his chest so he could stare at Steve's mouth on his erection.

And then he got an idea.]

[geriatric]

[ The guidance is appreciated, as is the actual vocal help he's getting. Steve bobs his head a little faster, tightens his grip a little more and goes where he's instructed with no small amount of enthusiasm, listening to Rumlow's noises.

His own cock isn't entirely uninterested in the proceedings; one hand drops down to stroke over himself a few times, his nose nearly down against Rumlow's stomach, a throaty little groan escaping him when the other man fucks up into his face. He might not be the best at it, but he's enjoying simply doing it, enjoying giving Rumlow a show as he rolls his eyes up and makes eye contact with each deliberate slide of hands and mouth down, swallowing around him. ]

[infligere]

[There was something delicious of watching the motions of Steve's other hand, not doubt stroking himself. His leg tightened on Rogers' shoulder, wanting to smirk but feigning the ability to as his mouth hung open a bit to make as many lusty cussing sounds that could just fall from his lips. When their eyes met, he gave a little shake of his head as if in disbelief of his good fortune of having Steve right there between his legs.

And he was so close, thrusting into Steve's parted lips, his fingers tightening as he bucked and groaned as a signal of his rather imminent release. Getting this blow was like finding religion and getting baptized; that's really how amazing that dirty mouth was. Yet, he arched as he was that close to his release and with his fingers tight in Steve's hair, he hauled on the man's head to force it off of his erection as he came and hopefully had snipers aim to nail the man right in the face. Once he knew Steve's mouth was free, he released his hands in the man's hair to do the classic - and no longer used - HYDRA two-armed salute as he hollered]

Hail HYDRA!

[geriatric]

[ He was used to cursing - the guys in the military always did, he was used to some vulgar language, but he didn't ever take to it much or find it particularly tasteful. That said, hearing Rumlow say those things - hearing his voice low and rough like that, well, that's a turn on all on its own.

Of all the things he expects, being jerked off of the cock isn't one of them. Steve sputters, swallowing hard once his mouth is clear and opens it to ask him what the hell he wants, only for him to get a mouth and face full of the mess. For a moment, he can't even believe what the hell just happened, but it clicks into place all too soon and he jerks back, wiping his face off and spitting into Rumlow's discarded sweatpants. It's not even offensive so much as it is infuriating, because he knows, he knows what he's doing, but he's not going to fucking deal with it. The sweatpants get thrown at Rumlow's face and Steve jerks away to go find his own clothing, his own erection forgotten. ]

I still can't breathe well

[infligere]

[It was worth it to see the look of infuriated shock on Steve's face, to picture it all and wish not for the first time that he had a camera to capture the moment. It's just as good in his mind's eye, but he really would love to review that kind of look and the mess that he made on his bond's face just like that. It was probably one of the best feelings in the world even when Steve got all offended and threw his pants at him. He was laughing as he pushed himself off the couch, ignoring his pants and stumbling after Steve.]

Come on, don't go!

[Instead, he moved to see if he could tackle his bond or at least latch on because he really wasn't done with their adventuring now that it had started. They were supposed to go at it like rabbits, remember?]

fffuckkk

[geriatric]

[ Anger's easy enough to deal with, burning hot and steady in his stomach and chest. Steve shoves at him, once, and then again to get him away, determined not to sink to his level and hit him, no matter how fucking tempting it is. He knows what the intent behind it was, and doesn't care; he's not sinking to that level, not yet. ]

You clearly don't want me here.

[ This whole thing feels ridiculous and petty, and it's fucking difficult to put on boxer briefs when he's got a full-sized man latching onto him. ]

[infligere]

[He was shoved off twice before he managed to evade or at least duck enough to get a good enough position to snag onto the top of Steve's thighs with both arms and just hang on for dear life. He literally allowed himself to be dragged around, still sort of chuckling as he remembered the look on Rogers' face from before. It was brilliant.]

Shit Rogers, I want you even more now. Come on, stay! You might even be able to think of pay back for that... oh man, do I want to see what creative debauchery you can think of.

[He hung on like a half-burnt leech to the man's thighs, before he applied himself to trying to bite Steve's ass playfully.]

[geriatric]

[ Christ on a cracker. Steve stops, dragging a hand down and fisting it in Rumlow's hair with a furious look on his face. He doesn't bother hiding it, doesn't bother softening the jerk on Rumlow's already mussed hair. ]

You don't get it. That isn't how this is supposed to be. We don't hurt each other and try to one up each other worse and worse just because it's fun.

[ That's the biggest difference between them, perhaps. Rumlow finds all of this fun, and it turns Steve's stomach. He's not sure why this sort of thing is so different than the roughness and force during sex, but it is. ]

[infligere]

[It seemed like a small victory to force Steve to stop trying to get dressed to leave. However, that victory seemed momentarily short-lived with the rough jerk on his hair, and he wasn't certain if anything tore. His scalp was hardy, but yeah, not after all the shit he had been put through in the building collapse. He thoroughly enjoyed the furious look all the same, even with his eyes watering a bit from pain.]

And how is it supposed to be with you? Mercenary style for twenty years with paper-bags over our heads? Come on... it's fun to test the limits. Besides, I didn't hurt you, did I?

[Now that Steve had stopped moving, one hand shifted to see if the man still had a raging hard-on to stroke.]

[geriatric]

I don't know.

[ Steve clenches his teeth tighter, shoulders hunching. He's not an expert on this, he just doesn't know, but he knows that this much is not how it's supposed to be. ]

I don't - don't mention them, don't mention my title, none of that. It shouldn't be that di-- ngh-

[ The worst of it, really, is that when Rumlow's hand slides down, it's true; he's still hard, thick and flushed against the material of his briefs. Steve tenses up, jerking a moment as he tries to figure out if he ought to move forward or stay, and doesn't move. ]

[infligere]

[Well it was easy to figure out what had really gotten the bee in Rogers' bonnet here. It was the declaration rather than cumming all over the man's face. It was the definition of their titles, that he was HYDRA, that Rogers was Captain America. Perhaps Steve wanted them to be normal people when they were being intimate, not want to dislike each other and their differing life choices.]

So... you want me to just be Brock Rumlow and you to just be Steve Rogers. No one and nothing else, just people with nothing to do but let the bond happen, huh?

[His hand stroked the front of Steve's boxers before tugging them down enough to free the show of his bond's arousal, stroking as he licked and nibbled his way up one of Steve's ass cheeks until he was at the small of the man's back, breathing hot breath against the skin. He hid most of his amusement and some of his attitude in a single moment - to be saved for the right time later to be sure.]

Stay, Steve. We haven't broken any furniture with furious copulation... and we really should get on that.

[geriatric]

[ It's simple enough, he thinks. He doesn't need romance - he's sure that there won't be any, given what's going on, who they are. The most that he can hope for is that they don't end up ripping each other apart over something utterly stupid. ]

I'm not an idiot. I don't want anything complicated.

[ He's not looking for declarations of love or any sort of sap. He knows they can't keep resisting the bond, not with any level of comfort so this is a necessary evil. Steve's back tenses up, swallowing hard at the press of lips and teeth up the curve of his ass. It doesn't take much to get him going, these days, not when Rumlow's involved. Steve squirms again, twisting around to look at him just a bit. ]

No Hydra, no SHIELD, no Captain America.

[infligere]

[Brock could fake romance, but he hadn't actually felt it was required for any kind of relationship that he was engaged in. However, he was able to push aside the HYDRA thing if Steve was willing to push aside the SHIELD and Captain American thing. It might even be very exciting to just be a guy who was forced to bond with another guy. Like some strange make-believe, since he was confined to this place and had no access to technology. Real low-grade make-believe.]

When does sex have to be complicated? The bond might make it a bit complicated but nothing two soldiers can't contingency plan out, right?

[He shifted his feet to the floor so he was no longer just literally hanging off of Steve, his lips and teeth making their way higher and higher on Steve's back as he came to stand, his arms sliding higher save the hand that still stroked Steve.]

Fine, just soldiers, you and I. You leave your alter-ego at the door, and I'll leave mine in the garborator with the rest of my productive life.

[geriatric]

[ Yeah, he has his doubts about that, but there's precious little else they're able to do. The most that he can manage right now is making the best of all of this, and hoping it's enough.

Rumlow shifts up behind him and Steve leans his weight into the other man, rolling his hips up with each slow stroke of the man's hand. It's a little dry, a little rough, but it's just what he needs right now, the friction and heat of his hand. ]

Fine.

[ They can work with that. He can. Steve dips a hand down and curls it in with Rumlow's, showing him the grip he likes ( a little harder ) and the speed ( a little slower, tight towards the head ) and when it goes just right, he shivers, hips jerking again. ]

[infligere]

[It was interesting that Steve leaned on him when the guy had half a foot and at least fifty pounds on him. He braced with his legs all the same, his lips kissing along Steve's one shoulder as he peered at the other man. He couldn't help but snort softly at the single word that tied them together. Just a simple 'fine' like this was some kind of death sentence when really, it would always be worse for him.]

Fine. [He mimicked the tone.

He growled in soft approval when Steve's hand covered his own, allowing himself to be shown what the man liked. He too was a quick learned, keyed to pick up details and still have the big picture in mind. He swayed his hips a little against Steve's ass, humming as if it might be a soothing sound.]

[geriatric]

[ This isn't the most comfortable position, but it's not a bad one. He might not be able to lean on Rumlow any longer as a partner, as someone he trusts with his life in the field, but this - this is less complicated. If he tells himself it's just sex enough times, maybe he'll start to believe it.

A breathy little noise of appreciation slips out, not quite a moan but almost, his hips rolling into their joint hands on his cock. Good, it's good, it's really, really good just like this, simple as it is. Doesn't stop him from opening his mouth and asking, ]

Did you-- do you like that? What you did.

Sorry, just reading the beginning of this and smiling

[infligere]

[He shifted his other arm around Steve's chest, his fingers petting at a nipple and occasionally twisting it as he licked a line up the salty skin of Rogers' neck. It tasted good, better than dinner, better than it had a right to be and he was hooked in his own way. Well, they were just men now, not agents. He was allowed to enjoy this, wasn't he?

He caught Steve's earlobe between his teeth and worried it as he started to speed up, pushing the grip on his hand to follow, working to see what more he would work out of this super-soldier body with its highly impressive stamina. The question caused a huff from him.]

It's called a prank, Steve, and yes I enjoyed it. The look on your face was priceless.

8)))

[geriatric]

A-ah-

[ Steve's whole body jerks at the twist and stroke of Rumlow's rough fingers over his nipple, like it's a direct button that drives fire down to his belly, straight to his cock. The quicker motion feels better, too; it's no surprise Rumlow's good at reading him. He was good at reading people before, the bond helps. ]

That's not what I, mmn, meant. [ Another shift, and Steve drags their hands down between his thighs, squeezing at his balls a moment before shifting back up. ] I meant- on my face. [ No, he needs to say it or Rumlow's going to give him endless shit. ] Coming on my face.

[infligere]

[His fingers make certain to torment that nipple for a little while so he could feel the bump and twist of Steve's body against his own. It was a real turn on and he didn't bother to hold back on that either, just enjoyed it all. Once he was satisfied about his torment, his fingers walked along Steve's chest to bring up some anticipation before tormenting the other available nipple.

He kissed just under Steve's ear, bumping his groin against Steve's ass and savouring the way the guy knew how to sound out pleasure even in the middle of a damn conversation.] Ah well, it seemed like fun at the time. I'd have been just as content making you swallow or amused if you're the spitting type.

[geriatric]

[ Okay, well, so it wasn't a fetish or something, it was just Rumlow being a dick. That's...good to know. A relief, at least. Steve huffs out an irritated little breath at the knowledge, all the same, and rolls his hips back, rubbing himself on Rumlow's cock. ]

Wouldn't know, considering.

[ And oh, he sounds catty there, even with the way the last word ends with a little groan as his fingers swap nipples. He wants Rumlow's mouth on them, goddamnit, but he doesn't want to twist, doesn't want to lose what he's got going on right now. The serum makes it easy to go again, sometimes even if he doesn't exactly want to, but right now it's a blessing of sorts, because all of this feels so good. ]