spaces_between | When it rains

When it rains

Who: Brock Rumlow & Sam Wilson
When: Pre-HYDRA reveal
What: STRIKE team training. Sam is a new recruit and Rumlow breaks him in. Literally?
Warnings: Uniform smut.

STRIKE had been assigned three weeks to Camp Lehigh, abandoned or not for training. They had two new guys and were rotated through the schedule to have time off for both team-building and tactical training, which was old hat for most of them being the veterans of the group. It was more to test out the new kids on and integrate the pair in without the pressure of highly sensitive mission details and objectives. It was also a chance to see how the pair would fit in with the true objectives of their mission, which had little to do with SHIELD mandates.

A week and a half in and Rumlow had taken a personal interest in one of the two recruits, as was his right and position as captain to do so. Rollins took over the other man as second in line, an agreement that had come between them with a game of rock-paper-scissors and a punch to the gut. Rumlow had won, of course, so he picked Samuel Wilson, ex-pararescue from the military.

Wilson was one of the few guys that he had ever seen basically fly over the air at a dead sprint, and it was impressive. The guy cut an impressive figure in a STRIKE uniform too, and he'd drawn Wilson off from the group shining weapons in the barracks to practice some hand-to-hand combat in the yard that was secluded. Rumlow liked very few men who weren't veterans but Wilson was alright, the kind of guy who he'd only punch for fun rather than meaning it for real.

Then the sky had opened up in the middle of their training session and sent a deluge down upon them. By the time he decided that throwing each other in the mud wasn't the way to go, they were soaked to the bone, black uniforms clinging to their bodies and his hair looking messy and clinging to his forehead and cheeks. He smirked as he licked rain from his lips and ran his fingers through his hair to push it back from getting into his eyes.

"Race you back to the barracks," he said and immediately took off sprinting and splashing across the grounds. He had a head start but knew that it wouldn't last; Wilson had some legs on the guy.

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Couldn't fly anymore, so the best thing he had was running.

Sam had barely been discharged from the Air Force for three months before he was contacted by SHIELD. In truth, there'd been a phone call soon after he got back from Afghanistan but the hard, listless feeling of the EXO project being completely discontinued without any hope for it starting up again and the long slog of his second tour working as a normal pararescue had him sick of the protocol, the stakes and a hungry-slow food chain.

Turned out that three months was just about as much time as he needed become completely bored out of his mind. So when SHIELD came making the rounds again with an opportunity on a special Ops team, he didn't jump for it but he did proceed warily forward.

STRIKE wasn't too bad. They had their hazing same as any other unit and they hit hard as he was finding out with every hand-to-hand training session but everything was efficient, order was kept and kept strictly. He wouldn't say it was something of a relief aloud, but it was after the listless wandering in an apartment that didn't feel like home again and the barracks back overseas that held too many haunting memories.

He figured it was a good sign that he'd gotten Rumlow's attention. There was no fuss in being pulled away from yet another spit-shine session. Out in the open they went at it hard, barely noting the downpour that started aside from adjusting to the slip of mud around their boots. He'd been thrown down twice at least, done the same once in return when Rumlow came up short. Sam wiped a slide of rain from the side of his mouth with a damp patch of his STRIKE uniform sleeve.

Did I wear you out-?

The taunt was just about out of his lips before Rumlow was issuing another challenge and taking off. Sam was left scrambling to grab his discarded jacket, swiped as he started following after and pushing a burst of energy into his stride.

Rumlow got the lead but Sam closed it, his grin bright in the bruised overcast above as he passed. "On your right."

Somehow the rain managed to get even heavier as they took their first steps into a run, pounding down and erasing much of the noise that was beyond them. It was like being trapped in their own little aspect of the world that just happened to be wet but still warm. The ground was slippery as it turned into mud, soaking up the hard pounding rain with ease and snapping leaves from their branches from the trees and bushes that huddled together with the deluge that plagued them. All he could think was 'good ol' Jersey, always pissing on someone'.

He turned his head to catch sight of Wilson gaining so easily on him, and he smirked as he kept up his own pace. He was well-aware of the bushes and trees in this area, and he planned on making good use of them when he was apparently about to get overrun. Those were some impressive legs on a man; he could imagine them being just as impressive wrapped around his waist. He wondered if Wilson was the type to do the feminine ankle crossing or just spread 'em and let it all hang out.

Rumlow bared his teeth in a grinning threat at the cocky call, and he let Wilson get up alongside him and start to move passed before he threw his weight to the right. He snapped his muscled arms out to catch Wilson as he moved to slam the man over into the bushes. "On your left," he crowed.

Sam pretty much expected a shove or to be tripped up since it happened with just about everyone in the squad when he set to showing off but the full body catch and throw that Rumlow looped him into took him by surprised. "Shit-!"

He tried to twist out of the group but his own momentum was his undoing. The bushes rushed up to meet him and he was hitting them face-first, all of the scratchy, poking leaves and branches scratching him up even through his shirt and pants.

Sam knocked his elbow back into Rumlow's gut, swearing again, though there was some hint of amusement threading its way through. He tried to flip himself over, twisting under Rumlow's weight. Everything around them was a blanket of silvery lines, a near curtain for the weight of the downpour. "You know you yell that to avoid running into people-"

The expletive was enough to earn a grunt of amusement out of him the moment before they both tumbled into the bushes. His bare arms felt the little scratches, the brush of leaves and the tug of his clothing as branches snagged. Of course, Wilson took the brunt of it being under him, and the rain still very much poured down upon them.

His hands shifted to grab at Wilson's hips to hold the other man down, snapping his legs closed so that his knees clamped on hard muscled thighs as he rode out the twisting motions. He was tossed slightly off with the gut elbow but clung so that there was limited chance of the other man actually getting up and sprinting away. Instead, they could just tangle with each other here in the rain and the branches of a bush.

"I don't play by the rules other than my own, Wilson," he hissed in his own version of delight and made a very pointed gesture of biting playfully at the side of the other man's neck. "Besides, you don't seem to care about playing rough."

“No,sir," Sam was grinning up wolfish at Rumlow, proud that he'd managed to at least flip himself over if he hadn't been able to escape completely. It wasn't terrible being trapped under the strength of Rumlow's body, even if his back was still being mauled by the bush they were crushing. "Playing rough is fine by me."

His breath caught at the nip before he was ducking his head and twisting to get at Rumlow's mouth. One and a half weeks and he hadn't been ignorant of the way Rumlow was watching him from the start. Their sparring was more heated than it was with anyone else and damned if Rumlow didn't cut a fine figure in his fatigues and training gear. Sam kept his return interest as discreet as he could while still egging for more. Fraternizing with his CO? Probably could be an issue down along the way.

But here in the rain with the memory of teeth lancing down his spine and straight to his cock he was morbidly disinclined to pull away.

Sam kissed Rumlow hard, lips meeting in a clash that was just as much teeth as lips.

He had been waiting for this.

Such an obedient little soldier, fitting in so well with the men and earning a place among them with that attitude. Pain was the same of the game, and they bonded over the harshness of missions and beating on each other, trying to be better and stronger than they had been the day, week or month before.

He relented to let Wilson turn enough so that they were in better position with one another, and he grinned arrogantly despite the fact his hair was sticking to his forehead now that the train had washed out the gel holding it away. He watched the younger man, raising an eyebrow as if given Wilson a chance to decide if this was just a playful scuffle of agents in a bush or something more.

It was something more. He was pleased with the lack of hesitation about it. Wilson would go far with split decision making skills and the ability to take a risk.

He moaned sharply at the kiss, his hands gripping Wilson's back like he owned the guy and approved of the roughness. He nipped at Sam's lips, roughing kissing back as he shifted to tangle a leg around the other to again prevent a rapid escape. The guy even tasted like a fresh breath of air.

So... a keeper pretty much.

That wasn't an assessment that would ever make it on paper but god, he'd take it. He'd take it with the stamp of approval that came with Rumlow's moan, the matching heat and aggression in his kiss which felt like it knocked intensity of this into a fresh new gear.

"What?" Sam grinned against his mouth, catching his breath as he pulled at water-logged knit of Rumlow's shirt and arched up. He referenced the catch of his CO's legs that had him pinned and kept in the bushes -which weren't that comfortable but Rumlow at least that compelling not to immediately throw off.

He sucked off a trailing line of rain from the man's jaw. "Worried you can't keep me here? Or is the view that good?"

Probably warranted, since he tried to see if Rumlow very well could. Scuffling, Sam tried to untangle his legs and shoved Rumlow's right side - pretty sure he saw him favoring it just a touch by the time they were done with their little training session. If he dislodged him then it would be a victory, if not then they'd have those honest harsh movements and maybe destroy the bush a little more so that one branch wasn't trying to gouge into the middle of his back.

This was all aggression and opportunities, and he had no reason to hold back now that it seemed that they were on the same page with each other. No one else had to know, but then again, half of STRIKE was a bunch of gossips. At least outside in the bushes it was unlikely that they would be seen and that this illusion of privacy was enough to make him bold.

He groaned and tilted his head at the hot lips against his jaw, smirking at the sheer audacity of the question. "The view is just that damn good," he replied slyly. "And I can keep you here as long as I like."

He rolled with the scuffling, keeping himself firmly on Wilson and refusing to relent for the time being, even if branches swayed around them and they managed to sink deeper and break more branches. There was several snaps from the branches before he leaned down and bit at Wilson's neck and up to the other man's jawline. "Come on... put some effort into it. Make it hurt, huh?"

“Yeah?” Sam challenged, though he'd admit the view wasn't so bad from where he was too. There were hints of his mouth on Rumlow's neck, nothing damning but the temptation was there and the man was solid against him. The thrill of this and the rush of the downpour around him was making him bolder, right-out reckless. “I certainly hope you're going to do more than just admire, sir.”

The 'sir' slipped out but Sam went with it, swearing as calling Rumlow that right then with a clear insubordinate air went right to his dick. They kept breaking the bush down and Sam was pretty sure his back was a mess of scrapes from trying to break free before Rumlow made it clear where he wanted to stay put.

“Not going to clock you hard enough you can't see this through. It'd be hell explaining that to the rest of the team.” He would however sink his teeth into whatever tender parts he could reach. Right then it was Rumlow's earlobe, put within reach if he turned his head as Rumlow made his way up his jaw.

The rain pounded down on his back, particularly the back of his neck where tendrils of water traced lines and dripped off into Wilson's. It was a glorious sight even as they wrestled in the bushes, spilling more droplets from one another, his hands fastened around his subordinates shoulders even as he knew the bush was probably not a comfortable place to settle.

"Oh, admiring is just the start," he replied, showing his teeth and warmed by the 'sir' himself. God, it wasn't supposed to sound that damn hot when they were in the rain like this clearly breaking rules together.

"You don't have to explain anything to them; that's the beauty of the chain of command," he hissed before he made a complete lie out of that statement with his biting. He groaned and ground his hips into Wilson's, tilting his head to the teeth and feeling himself get hard far too quickly. He gripped the other man's shoulders and rolled them out of the bush to the soaked grass instead, hidden by foliage as he reached out to grab Wilson by the dog tags and drag the man's mouth to his own for another searing kiss that was more teeth than lips.

Damn straight he was if he ended up walking around the barracks with hickeys and no leave time to explain where the fuck they came from. No fight with a bush was going to cover that. But even still every time Rumlow's teeth snapped at his skin he groaned even as he shoved him back.

They hit the ground with Sam struggling to be on top, losing all of that little victory the moment Rumlow found his dogtags that had come free in all their scuffling and used them to drag him down. He moaned and swore helplessly into that kiss even as he fought into it, grinding down against Rumlow's cock just as hard as his own as that- that gesture did it and then some for him. He had two sets of tags on his chain and they clinked under the downpour in the clench of Rumlow's fist.

"That how it is?" he questioned between one pass, not a shred of belief in his voice. His hands fell down to Rumlow's pants, starting to work at the wet fabric to open them up. "Right here, right now. Let me suck you off."

It was a good think that their jackets had high-collars or there may be questions raised, not that he couldn't just shut everyone up. STRIKE was excellent about keeping one another's secrets, even if it generally came with internal teasing or looks. His interest in Wilson would be protected and allowed to go where it would as long as it didn't interfere with missions and training.

He settled onto his back, setting his boots against the grass so he could make an attempt to roll them at any time that it suited him. His fingers laced in the chain that held Wilson's tags as their lips crashed together, hard and hot, and it made his toes curl in his boots pleasantly. Their grinding wasn't making him want to stop, that was for certain.

"When I'm in charge, yeah," he replied between nips, and he thrust his hips up towards Wilson's hand. "You do that, rookie. And when you're done, you get your choice of me fucking you against the grass or a tree."

A new punch of heat went through Sam at that, making him shut his eyes tighter and roll his hips hard one last time to ease the hot lash that went right down to his cock. “I'll think on which I prefer, sir.” Because god, he wouldn't be able to stop that now.

Sam skipped down Rumlow's body, opening up the front of his pants and pulling the thickness of his cock out to the rain and the air and his mouth. He licked the falling drops away from the side of his length, tasting salt-sweat and water and the underlying flavor of skin that had to be just Rumlow himself. He lapped and dragged his way up to the head while holding the base of his shaft in his fist. Sam's eyes had closed on the first contact against his tongue but he opened them as he sucked at the head of his CO's cock, sighting up the line of his body while his free hand went to spread and fan out under the cling of his black-issue shirt.

Not a bad view from where he was, laying flat out between Rumlow's propped legs. Not a bad view at all.

Rumlow relented on Wilson's tag, releasing them to dangle and jingle lightly together as the other man shifted down his body. He groaned and shook water from his face, not that it mattered as more just continued to fall and half-blind him. Even he recognized this as a vulnerable position to be in. Did he care? Nope, not one bit.

He spread his legs around the width of Sam's shoulders, lazily setting his ankles against Wilson's sides as he groaned loud and wanton with the new exposure that wasn't the rough fabric of his trousers. He arched his back, pressing himself towards that hot talented tongue even as he snapped a hand down but found little to no hair to actually grip. What a shame.

He lifted his head and peered down at Wilson in the same way that Sam was peering at him, but he offered a cocky smirk and blew a teasing kiss down the length of his body. "I think... you're a team keeper."

Sam snorted, rolling his eyes at the kiss as much as anyone could with a dick in their mouth. He lavished the spot just below Rumlow's head for another second before pulling off, spit and rain mixing on his lips. "I'm not blowing the whole team, though."

The man under him was pretty much the only one he wanted to suck down and dry. Speaking of that, Sam got back to it, lowering his head back down to lick up what fresh rain fell down on him, settling under the weight of Rumlow's boots in his side which set his cock aching pleasantly, still caught in his fatigues. He suck down one bob after another, each one with a fair amount of tongue circling until he was focusing his attention on just taking him down and working against the reflex to gag.

He went on with one hungry pass after another until he was nestling up against coarse hair and Rumlow was in his throat. A moan half-victorious and all satisfied echoed in his throat.

And then he swallowed, wetly working around the thickness of Rumlow sliding down his throat which felt better than he imagined every time he worked himself off.

"No you are not," he said in complete agreement. "That's a personal activity we keep between us, especially when it's raining."

That was quite a sight too, even as he blinked rain from his eyes and watched Wilson's mouth work. It caused his toes to curl in his boots as he groaned and rolled his hips off of the ground in reply. He dropped a hand down to the back of Wilson's head while his other arm propped up his head comfortably even as his eyes half-closed as he thrust up with each bob down on his erection, pleasure burning out any sense of cold within his muscles.

"God damn," he hissed between clenched teeth when Wilson deep-throated him, arching his back against the wet grass. "Fuck, don't make me humiliate myself out here in the rain, Wilson." Because he was getting closer to coming than he expected with those antics. Geez, give a commander a break, okay?

Did that make this their new rainy day ritual? Because if it did Sam could certainly live with that. Sam let Rumlow thrust up into his mouth, backing off so he wasn't choking to the point they'd have to stop but still letting him hit the back of his throat, gripping his hips hard every time he choked, swallowed and recovered. The rain covered his noises for the most part but not Rumlow's voice or his hissing.

Sam hummed with cat-like amusement as his CO arched. Hell, it was a thing feeling that, listening to him and made him only want to suck harder.

That fast, though, huh?

He drew back, mouth flush, working his jaw as he slowly jacked Rumlow while he looked up with dry humor. "You can always redeem yourself in the showers." Which sounded far more appealing to be fucked in than up against the bark of a tree.

Edited 2015-05-27 22:28 (UTC)

If he could arrange it for becoming a ritual, he certainly was going to make every effort to at this point. Wilson was free to go around doing whoever or whatever the guy wanted, but he could claim he had it first. His fingers scrubbed over Sam's short-cropped hair, touching but not holding the other down (not yet anyway).

His chest heaved, looking more exaggerated because of his wet clothes clinging to his chest and stomach. His hips continued to roll under the hand, smirking at Wilson. "Is that where you want to get all clean and dirty, Wilson? You know I found a private bathroom that actually still works. You can make all manner of lewd noises for me there..." he said, smirk growing to be more of a grin.

And there was really no doubt in Sam's mind that that Rumlow would be able to get him loud, get him vocal. That grin promised things and the man was the type that saw through on his promises as much as his threats.

And there were times were the bare of his teeth made them one in the same.

"I think I can see that working out," Sam replied, shifting slightly at the mere thought. While he's not doing much about it he's hard and if it hadn't been just muddy dirt below him he would have considered pressing down a little shamelessly to get some relief from where his cock pushed and ached against the front of his uniform pants.

"Long as you'll be ready to go again."

He would pride himself on getting all manner of noises from Wilson, especially if he had those long lean legs wrapped around his hips. God that would be something to see. Could he arrange it so he had Wilson against a wall where he could view them in a mirror? Damn rights he could, and he would too.

"I bet you can," he agreed, noting the shifting and gripping the back of Wilson's neck with his wet fingers. Given how soaked through they both were, it was difficult to get a good grip. "How you doing down there, Wilson? You want to come up here and I'll see about helping you with the problem you're obviously sporting."

Because damn if that wasn't hot, them rolling around in the mud and rain gripping each other. "My libido is just fine. Hope you can keep up."

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When it rains

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