It's all the Past. (Closed to captain_asthmatic)

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Who: Steve Rogers & Brock Rumlow
When: Summer of 1941
What: Rumlow is sent to the past in order to alter the future for an assured victory for HYDRA in the Second World War.
Warnings: Rumlow being Rumlow. Violence. World domination


HYDRA was finally strong enough to have partial access to the Tesseract and the power that it held. Most of SHIELD science was trying to use the cube in a different way, as a power source but also as a gateway to another world. That was what it was for, but HYDRA had other plans for the Tesseract. The failure of the war was considered pivotal enough where some believed that if the past was altered then the miserable future that they currently lived in would have never come to pass. It would be a better world under the Red Skull.

He was just a boy when they started to study the ability to use the Tesseract as a gateway to span between time and space. He hadn't even decided what he wanted to be when he had grown up save that he would be a drunk and he would be a better man than those who were weak enough to die in the ditch. New York was a tough place to live where he did, but he survived and he go tough despite being in trouble with the law.

He was recruited in juvenile detention, and his life changed. His life became something worth living, so he served and went where he was told, learned the skills that they told him to. He survived, and he learned that just like the miserable kids on the streets, he could lead if he said the right word. It didn't matter to him about race, gender or social class. If one could get the job done and do it well, he would respect them. If not, they were no better then dirt under his boots. He drove men to better though because he wasn't dying because they were weak.

When he was twenty-four, he was taken off of his final tour and sent to New Jersey. He and twenty other men were put into Project Rewind and they were drilled hard and fast into the early forties such as culture, class, history, fashion, currency and even linguistics patterns. The Tesseract was going to sent one lucky man back to alter history to assure HYDRA of a win it was owed. He studied hard, but he wasn't top on the list to get chosen for trial; he was somewhere in the middle.

The first six men never came back. Rumors began to circulate that the project was never going to work. He ignored them and kept fit and loyal. He had to know what to do if it was him that made the transition. He knew the people he was supposed to talk to, the hands he was to shake, the men who would get him in and let him follow the final order to the best of his ability. The next three men never came back either.

Brock volunteered as the tenth. He was given his orders: find Steve Rogers, get close and deliver the super soldier to the Red Skull. Do that and victory was assured.

He was dressed in clothing appropriate to the time era he was supposed to be going to save that he snuck his favourite knife into his boot. He was given some currency with the appropriate dates and told to stand in a particularly spot. He was staring right at the Tesseract, and it seemed far more beautiful than the potential of a horrible death. He noted the spot where he was standing smelled like burnt flesh. It made his toes curl in his boots, but he set himself.

Brock Rumlow was born in 1971. When he opened his eyes after the blue flash of light and the frigid cold of energy that felt like it was burning his flesh right off of his bones, he was standing in the streets of New Jersey in 1941. He was twenty five, and he hadn't even been born yet. He was here to change the future, a future that no longer existed for him because he was here. This was his present. This was his future.

Slowly, he tottered off on shaky legs to get in touch with the right people. He enlisted at the right time, at the right station with the right doctor and he was chosen for Project Rebirth. He was shipped to Camp Lehigh to form a unit of special forces for the United States military under the SSR. The first day was debriefings, a set of their itinerary, books, the start of the rigors of usual boot camp. It wasn't even as physical as his boot camp had been.

It wasn't hard to spot Steve Rogers, and he admitted to not finding the kid anything to look at, but this was going to be a legend. This was going to be Captain America, and he knew what that small frail body was going to turn into and what that stubborn man was going to do for America. Rogers was the joke of the group on a lesser level than Agent Carter. Everyone expected Rogers to drop out or die. No one even really talked to the guy for the first day, not even in the mess hall.

Rumlow sized the guy up all day, waiting and looking for opportunity to approach. Their assigned barracks were pretty much like ancient cabins, the bunks were alright, but the living quarters the usual crammed pieces of crap. He took the bunk on top of Steve's when it was apparent no one else would; he knew guys were punished for not pulling their weight. He swaggered over and stood in front of the scrawny man with his pack on his shoulder and his uniform jacket hanging open.

"Do you mind if I take the top bed?" Everyone stopped to look, but he paid them no mind. Instead, he reached out with his right hand. "Brock Rumlow, pleased to make your acquaintance." Ugh, he was going to barf on his shoes with all this niceness.

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"I know, and that's all that's ever expected of any of us," he whispered into Steve's ear, though out of the two of them, only he really knew what the conversation was really referencing. He sucked on Steve's earlobe, and he hummed in reply to that confession. "Sit back against the tree more. I'll show you how much I missed you."

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Steve flushed and leaned back obediently, though he continued to rub and caress Brock's back with his hands. "I didn't know if I'd ever see you again," he admitted. "I wish you hadn't had to go through that... but I'm glad you're here."

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His hands smoothed over Steve's chest, feeling the hard lines and the rise and fall of muscles before his fingers settled on Steve's belt and trousers, working them open with his fingers. He peered intently at his lover. "I went through what many men went through, and that's enough. We all put in our time and are thankful at the end of the day for being alive."

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"I'm relieved you're okay," Steve murmured, his hands dropping down to do the same to Rumlow, working on his belt and easing down his zipper.

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He sighed at the release of tension in his trousers, but he was kissing down the length of Steve's neck. He paused to squirm his way down the other man's legs and nestled down on the ground as he stroked his lover with a hand. "I knew you'd be just fine. You're not a quitter."

He flicked his tongue over the head of Steve's erection, raising an eyebrow for permission to do this. Not that he actually cared for permission, but it seemed like a nice touch. Brock was always interested in brownie points.

[captain_asthmatic]

Steve had seen men using their mouths on other men before. It wasn't common to encounter a man on his knees pleasuring another man in an alley in Steve's neighbourhood - but it was certainly more common than in other neighbourhoods. He'd seen it.

He'd never realized it was so nice.

He drew in a sharp breath at that first lick, and then nodded eagerly in permission, blue eyes wide.

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Rumlow had never done this before, though he had been on the receiving end of a few from the women he was dating at the time. It didn't seem difficult of a task. Just suck and bob and try not to choke by going too low too fast or something.

Steve apparently didn't mind his boldness, which was a good sign. He latched his mouth around the head and sucked, wrinkling his nose at the taste of pre-cum and the texture. It was... interesting, but he diligently ran his tongue over the smooth skin and accidentally teased the slit between sucking in his cheeks.

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Steve had also never done this before, so he had no idea if this was a very good blowjob or not. It felt good, that much he knew, and he moaned softly as Rumlow's tongue teased him.

"Oh... gosh, Brock," he whispered, combing gentle fingers through Rumlow's hair.

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Steve couldn't even cuss properly, and he had to hold in the need to roll his eyes. He instead dropped himself down on Steve's length, gradually taking it into his mouth and sucking on it. He bobbed back up, though he wasn't going to be sick and began a rhythm of bobbing up and down on Steve's length.

[captain_asthmatic]

He could, he just hadn't really gotten that far, yet. He groaned helplessly, soft whimpers bubbling up in his throat as Rumlow really began to set up a rhythm.

"D-don't know why we didn't try this one before," he gasped, squirming a little against the tree trunk he was sitting against.

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There was no point in pausing to answer Steve's question, given that his mouth was rather occupied. He simply sucked harder on his next down stroke in reply, since there hadn't been enough time to pursue further intimacy outside in that little hidden spot that they had found.

Now they still didn't have much time. At least they could explore and feel good, and he bobbed faster, humming along the length of erection in his mouth.

[captain_asthmatic]

Steve had far greater stamina, but his experience was still only that one stolen moment they had together. Sure, there had been a lot of pretty girls on the USO tour, and a number of them he was sure would have been very happy if he'd spent a little private time with them, but he had politely, but firmly, declined any advances. He wasn't interested in groupies or meaningless one night stands, and while the girls had been nice for the most part, he hadn't clicked with any of them.

So now he was more than eager after a long dry spell with temptation all around. When Rumlow began to suck even harder, he jammed a hand into his mouth to keep himself from shouting loudly enough to bring half of the Nazis down on them. He jerked hard and came into Rumlow's mouth without much in the way of warning.

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Even Brock was caught a little unprepared when Steve suddenly came, though he had been trying to figure out what the hell he was going to do with it once it showed itself. It might have been best that he didn't have time to plan out his reaction with the suddenness because when his mouth filled with Steve's semen - was it supposed to taste like that? - he gagged a bit but actually swallowed rather than pull back and get cum in his hair.

He only pulled away when he was certain that he wasn't going to have to explain why he had Captain America's spunk drying on his face and hair. He licked at a line of cum that had formed at the corner of his mouth and gave Steve's thigh a pat. "As eager as last time. You holding out for me?"

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Steve was too overwhelmed to realize that Rumlow had a few problems as he came. He was just so pleased to have Rumlow back, and it felt so amazing at the same time.

When he opened his eyes, he saw a few drops of white fluid that had escaped Rumlow's tongue, and he leaned forward to kiss him, then licked up the last of his own fluid. "Well, none of the girls on the USO tour really measured up."

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He moaned into the kiss, honestly pleasured by the warmth of human contact despite aware that it wouldn't last. He nipped at Steve's lips when the last of the cum was stolen from the corner of his mouth and smirked at the mention of the USO girls. "Well, you still mighty fine in tights," he remarked.

"But you're much better out of them, I suspect." He nuzzled the line of Steve's jaw with his nose and huffed softly. "I guess... we should get back, huh? Someone is gonna miss the great Captain America..."

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Steve blushed. "I can't wait to get into a proper uniform instead of tights," he said.

Then he blinked, surprised. "But... I haven't done anything for you, yet," he murmured, putting his hands to Rumlow's shoulders. He ducked his head down, looking. Maybe Rumlow wasn't aroused... had he been doing this just to pleasure Steve? Was this some kind of gratitude for rescuing him?

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"And you will look good in a uniform. Too bad you'll be on duty and we can't sneak away once we're back in a war zone," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. He'd seen pictures and Steve was a very striking image in uniform.

He was so hard it was bridging on painful, but he was aware more than Steve time sensitivity. "Just having you here is everything I had hoped," he said, playing the words out with a smile he didn't feel. He shifted where he was kneeling, pushing himself to sit back on his ankles were not even the dark area could mask the fact his trousers were tenting. "You're not going to demand to sit on my lap, are you?"

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Steve was aware of the time, but it wouldn't take that long to do what he felt was far more important than what they had already done - to take care of his boyfriend. Boyfriend? Yeah, that had a nice ring to it.

He grinned. "Why, are you Santa Claus? What did you bring me?" He leaned forward, shifting onto his knees, and reached for Rumlow's fly.

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"Didn't you hear me saying "ho ho ho" when you broke me out?" He shifted and sat back on his ass, letting Steve at his pants without much of a fuss. He was very aroused and admitted curiosity on what Steve was going to do in order to solve the situation.

"Isn't me sucking your dick a present? I can give you something else if it isn't." Like a great big hickey.

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"It's good, really good," Steve said fervently. "I really want to make you feel good, too."

He leaned down and flickered his tongue experimentally over Rumlow's cock, curious and a little tentative at first, but it doesn't take long for him to grow more confident. He opened his mouth and lowered his head further, taking as much of the cock into his mouth as he could.

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"You don't need to even the scoreboard, you know." He'd appreciate it all the same, especially with Captain America's holier-than-thou mouth on his erection.

He pulled up his shirt and stuffed some of it into his mouth to bite on as Steve's hot mouth closed on his erection. He allowed himself to thrust forward slightly, straining to focus enough to listen to their surroundings, but damn... even without knowing how to do this, Steve was tempting.

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Steve lifted his head, and gave Rumlow a slightly confused look. "It's not a competition, Brock. I just want to make you happy."

And he went back to what he was doing, riding out the small thrusts, and gasping a bit when one went a bit too deep. He struggled on gamely, though, happily in fact, though a little bit of teeth scraped against Rumlow's skin.

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It wasn't, he knew. He just didn't want Steve to think that the guy owed him anything for binding the man closer to him. If anything, he owed an apology, which he would never give of course.

He hissed in pleasure and dug his fingers into Steve's hair, gripping it to steady himself as they both kept from making too much of this good thing. His bit down on his shirt to stifle some of the noise from his moan at the small scrape of teeth, the danger of it a thrill that almost had him embarrassing himself right and there, but he fought on like the good little soldier that he was.

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Steve was grateful that Rumlow was biting onto his shirt, especially given the noises that were escaping. He felt warmth rush through him at the thought of what noises might come from Rumlow's throat if that shirt weren't there.

One day, maybe they could both scream to their hearts' content.

For now, Steve worked hard to bring Rumlow as much pleasure as he could.

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His teeth kept clenching in his shirt as his hips followed the rhythm that Steve set for him, breathing hard through his nose and still trying to keep an ear out for others. It was difficult to multitask in such a way, and he wasn't doing as good a job as he should.

Not with that tempting hot mouth on him.

He groaned and would have voiced Steve's name if he could, but he was tasting his disgusting sweater that was in serious need of a wash. His little thrusts lost some of their smoothness and became a little more erratic before he came with a loud groan of pleasure.