Rumlow, despite all his struggling and fury and humiliation, despite his absolute rejection of being bitten, did something the asset had only ever instinctively expected up until that moment and tucked his head into the crook of his shoulder, mutely asking for his protection. The asset wrapped both arms around him fiercely, still positioned on top of him with the man's thighs spread around his hips, covering him, locked inside of him as his cock pulsed and throbbed within him with rhythmic pumps of seed. He buried his nose in Rumlow's hair to breathe the sweat and bond and blood scent of him, eyes closed with a kind of tender contentment that was entirely unfamiliar. Only once had he felt this before...once decades ago when he'd first broken in the boy Rumlow had been, fucking him and knotting him for hours until he'd been sobbing and struggling weakly, unable to bear any more of it; the asset had held and soothed him until he'd finished.

Of course, the asset had been wiped shortly after. He didn't remember the encounter, not as a series of images that could be conjured up; but it had been imprinted in him to protect Rumlow in pain or need.

Rumlow's hole twitched around him, drawing out the continuing pulses of seed painting his insides and the slow lazy rocks of his hips that pumped his thick knot deeper into him. All the while the asset was still and soothing and even gentle, one of his hands curving over the back of Rumlow's head to cradle his face against his shoulder, encouraging him to stay there.