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For themission

[Being a rare case had done him no favours, not from the time he was born, not from the time he showed his true nature and certainly not for any heat that he happened to be subjected to. Rumlow might have been an aggressive, bossy and ugly-ass omega, but his scent when in heat brought all the alphas to the yard. Both literally and figuratively.

It had been an unpleasant surprise for his parents. It had gotten so bad that they built a scent-proof room for him to languish his heats away in, just to keep all the alphas trying to break in or calling at the windows at all hours. It had been an even more unpleasant and uncomfortable surprise for those interim years where he lived on the streets, fending for himself. Man had he missed his 'room' when a heat had struck. It hadn't gotten that much better when he had been taken into the fold of HYDRA and poked and prodded for his rarity. He joined for the ideal, he stayed for the experimental suppressants.

He'd been doing so well, kicking the shit out of alphas and betas alike to get them to fall into line. He forced them to respect him or at least hate him enough to respect him for what he was doing as he trampled over anyone that stood between himself and mission success. He acted more like an alpha than the omega he was born to be, and that had nothing to do with suppressants. He gave quarter to no one, and he would rather get himself off on the ugly end of his pistol than have a go around with any of the men he worked with. All was right with his world for the first time, which meant everything had to go south fast.

Meeting the Winter Soldier had been that plummet right to personal Hell. Maybe it was the super-soldier serum. Maybe it was the sheer magnitude of the violence that followed that alpha around. Maybe it was that deep down, Rumlow was just looking for an alpha who could slam him into the ground and take none of his shit and somehow leaving him hissing and whining at the same time. Either way, the Winter Soldier was his Achilles heel, somehow with hormones that undid all the precious work of the suppressants and leaving him in random heats all over the place.

They mated by the end of the first mission they had served on together. He vowed as he lay under that metal arm locked to that warm chest that he'd someday kill the Soldier.

And so began their tumult 'relationship'. He'd go on a new suppressant, the Soldier would be thawed for a mission and he'd get a heat out of the deal. They have a go around with all the snarling and shoving that came with that sort of endeavoring, and the Soldier would go to the frost and wake up more well-behaved than the technicians had ever seen. Apparently getting laid did wonders for a blank weapon's mental state. Who knew? HYDRA was fascinated and so kept them on-again, off-again together for missions like they were two prized breeding aliens whose function wasn't quite known yet.

Today's mission was a search and destroy. Simple, clean, get in and get out. It never ended that way, not when the building supports were laced with explosives that brought that whole thing down. Even while he was choking on dust and cursing, he knew that going for the ex-Soviet big-wigs was never a good idea given their apparent hand in creating the Soldier. That's how building were dropped on teams, and here they all were, everyone separated, some possibly dead.

He found himself in the lucky zone of having a slab of wall crash down where it had enough space to move around and locate and fresh source of air. It was currently clogged with cement dust, but he knew that was the way out. Unfortunately, his body had already began to work itself into its usual state after a ten hour flight sitting next to the Winter Soldier with his fingers crossed that this time the suppressants would work. No go... he was heading fast and hard into his temperamental heat and his scent would be clogging up the place in no time.

Maybe all the alphas were dead. Maybe the Soldier was dead. Maybe just buried and too far away to scent him. Or maybe running free hunting down the mission target. He admired the Soldier's tenacity when it came to eliminating people with extreme prejudice. He began to claw and shove at the hole leading out, trying to budge the chucks of cement enough that he might wiggle free. He didn't call for help; he was above that currently. He'd get out because he knew that there was never anyone to do something for him no matter what was going in his pants.

He didn't need anyone. Except when he did.]

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The asset was ready for his punches, as though he knew they were coming: Rumlow hissing at him, swinging his fists and the asset catching them with an answering growl, taking the elbow to his gut without much more than a curl of his lip. The man was strong, like his handlers had always been--seasoned soldiers, cold and brutal men. He'd only gotten stronger and more vicious as he aged; he made a worthy match for the asset as a handler and as his omega. But he wasn't stronger than the Winter Soldier, none of them were, and in his alpha state he showed it, bending his handler's wrists close to breaking with a grasp that demonstrated how easy it would be to snap them like twigs, with either hand. He dragged Rumlow close to him, snarling right in his face, and then the asset kissed him in a clash of teeth and bruising force.

Subduing his mate's struggles, he transferred both wrists to his left hand, locking the metal fingers around them like a vice, and grabbed his hair again, fisting savagely in the short, thick locks at the base of his skull. There--he left Rumlow without an inch of space to pull away from him, and the soldier could tilt his head and force his lips to part with the insistent pressure of his lips, his teeth, his tongue; he pushed his tongue into Rumlow's mouth as soon as he gained an opening, and the taste of his omega brought a deep rumble of satisfaction from his chest.

Rumlow knew it was fruitless, but every single time, he still fought. There was no overcoming his alpha, not without a tranquilizer gun, a pair of magnetic handcuffs and that muzzle the Soldier was force to wear on missions. With his hands caught, he tried to twist them free but was unable, and the point became moot when his wrists were bend enough that it forced his back to bow and a snarl of pained rage to leave him. Pain gave him clarity, gave him a brief opportunity to circumvent the needs of his heat and this... well, it wouldn't be the first time he returned to HYDRA with a broken bone because of mating.

The kiss split his lip almost instantly, the metallic taste of blood making him shudder as he fought back, struggling even as his wrists were passed off and his head was bent back. He suddenly swung up a knee aiming for the groin but his balance was off enough that he'd land on the Soldier's thigh instead. A tongue in his mouth was a dangerous thing; he could bite it off. The problem was that with the Soldier's tongue there, the taste of alpha swung him out of his pained rage and into omega in heat territory and while he fought, it was against his nature to permanent harm his alpha was in heat and after just being mated.

It was all biological nonsense, but he was subjected to it all the time. He mewled softly, hoping to distract the Soldier enough to break free instead.

He could appreciate the fight in his mate even as he subdued his struggles, ignoring the ill-aimed knee at his thigh as unimportant; Rumlow was no weakling, he was a hardened soldier, worthy of the asset. His commanding officer in the field, obedience and submission reversed except in a heat, a struggle between alpha and omega. Under ordinary circumstances the asset would be licking his boots if ordered too, not drugging him to pliancy with the biting kiss, forcing him to his back on the cold cement.

The threat of Rumlow biting off his tongue didn't even enter his mind. Dominance lived in every hard line of his body, his hands, his solid weight easily forcing Rumlow prone again, on his back where his belly and throat were exposed. His soft, vulnerable mewls had the asset growling in satisfaction as he shoved Rumlow's wrists up over his head-- "Leave them," he snarled in the man's ear, seizing his thighs and hiking them up, spreading him apart. With a single thrust the soldier entered him again, filling him with his cock. He circled a hand around Rumlow's throat again as he fucked into him determinedly, staring into his face, hips working fast and hard as he pounded him viciously into the floor.

And then he was flat on his back on the broken cracked concrete, dust and dirt painting his back and his arms as they were wrenched over his head. He arched his shoulders and hips, craning with his belly upwards in yet another vain attempt to escape. The order to leave his hands where they were earned a snarl but actual obedience as well, the alpha command clear to his omega brain as a must follow directive.

He give a little kick with one of his feet, but it was more a jerk than a threat with the way that his alpha slotted in between his thighs and entered him. He was hot and slick, still dripping cum from their previous mating, and he made a throaty desperate sound as his walls were once again stretched. All his nerve ended flared with the pleasure of the contact and he had to twist his fingers together to keep himself from reaching out to grab at his alpha as he was pounded roughly into the cement. His mouth opened and close as if to say something, but only lewd mewling left him as his face became flushed and the bonding glands on his neck stood out in blatant advertising.

Rumlow was still tight around him, but filthy wet too, sloppy with come and slickness, making it easy to fuck him. The asset's hips pistoned like a machine, hands bruising the man's thighs as his fingers dug into the strong muscles, pushing his legs down towards his chest, nearly bending him in two as he fucked him in hard, savage strokes. Pleasure worked low growls from the asset's throat again and again as he stared unblinking at his omega's face, Rumlow's expression fixed and straining as though he were fighting with all his strength not to give in. The asset knew that he would. He would break over and over, as many times as the asset desired to have him. It wasn't only the physical pleasure that brought those contented rumblings from his throat, it was also the pleasure of dominating his mate, having Rumlow thoroughly as his own.

His head thrown back was an unholy temptation, throat sweet with scent that drew the asset down to nose and mouth at it while the instinct to bite pulled at him ever stronger. Even in the depths of mating the asset understood all the reasons he should not, but his teeth bared, hovering over fragile skin, and frustration mounted; he snarled at Rumlow, faulting him for the temptation, for baring his throat and daring his alpha to bite.

His hips slammed into him viciously, thick cock plunging deep over and over, opening him, punishing him, and with another snarl the asset suddenly bit down on the muscle of Rumlow's shoulder: bruising flesh, breaking it, marking him irrevocably, the only saving grace being that it was a place that would stay hidden under clothing and gear.

He'd bruise. He always bruised, and he would take the mockery that came with it. Generally now, it was little more than a gentle ribbing because he had reputation of gutting anyone that went too far in saying that he was a whore for the Soldier. He wasn't; they were mates, which was a word that he despised in every sense until this alpha was filling him to the brim with hot flesh and cum. Then it was okay for that select few hours of their sexathon.

He was uncensored as he howled and thrashed, his legs kicking out and finding not purchase. His thrashing motions only encouraged the Soldier he knew, his alpha so keyed into the fight that was between them, but it would leave more bruises as he was slammed down into the cement under him. There was never any comforts in their outings, and part of him hated every moment of them and another part loved that they had no boundaries about place and time.

He was breathing hard, his body rocking with the almost violent motions of their mating, listening to the sound of their flesh slapping together and his orgasm building up. He was so hard and his erection drooled over his belly, bouncing untouched against his own skin. Yet, he was keyed in on the flash of teeth, and he tried to force himself to drop his head to cover over his swollen glands. Bonding was the last thing he wanted out of a mating session.

Yet, he yelled when he was bitten, slamming his palms into the Soldier's chest as he was marked. It wasn't directly on the gland, just enough to catch the edge of it, damage it enough to release bonding hormones through his system. No one would see it so long as he kept his shirt on, but he knew it was there, the marking that would disappear because it wasn't deep enough to display to the world that he was mate marked, but a partial bond formed between himself and the Soldier like never before.

"Y-you asshole," he whimpered out. He felt hate flood him for being reduced to whimpering, and he howled as he struggled anew. Not that he ever would, but even the limited effect of the bite would not allow him to take another lover, another mate. The Soldier was it or death.

It was too late for any protest. The hands shoving at his chest may as well have been trying to move a mountain; the asset bore down hard on Rumlow as he dug his teeth into flesh and muscle, lapping at the salt taste of sweat and the coppery tang of blood. The satisfaction of his basest instincts made his cock swell and swell inside Rumlow's battered ass as he began to come again, filling him with another load of seed, his knot coming back to lock them together. His mate would be dripping when the asset was finished with him. He'd be returning to base smelling of the asset's come, and everyone would know who he belonged to even without seeing the mating mark on his shoulder.

And the asset would know it was there. Even in stasis, even when being wiped and put away until the next time his use was required, it would be imprinted down to his bones: his mate for life, his and no other's. He suppressed Rumlow's struggles easily and began to kiss him again, eagerly, almost sweetly, more like a lover's kiss for once than a dominating alpha's. His knot swelled thick and bigger than ever within him as he jerked his hips in short little thrusts, filling and filling him with seed, and his arms cradled Rumlow as though to protect him from the rough cement, the broken rubble all around them.

He had no idea if or what he would say to explain the bite away to medical. He suddenly knew he would refuse to go there, that he would insist on taking care of things on his own. He had done that once or twice, claiming humiliation enough that he could avoid contact and the medical staff smirking between themselves. He'd hide the bite, protect it... wait, what? No, he didn't want it... but he had it and thus it was his to keep secret.

He growled and struggled despite it being so damn ineffective, kicking his legs on either side of the Soldier's hips and thrusting his chest out as if he could throw the alpha off of him. It wouldn't work; it never worked. The kisses reduced him to mewling again, but they were like nothing that they had shared together, and he did something that he never thought that he would... he thrust his head forward and buried his face into the crook of the Soldier's neck, a plaintive and very omega gesture of accepting protection.

The knot that filled him again, thicker than ever, earned noises, and instead of fighting, his hips gave small rolls to tug the knot within him, sending pleasure cascading through him. He curled his legs around the Soldier, feeling a new patch of seed filling him up, marking and claiming him as no other had the right to. His fingers managed to get a hold of his alpha's sides and held on, his walls massaging and gripping the erection filling him with claim.

And all the while, the bite oozed blood and bond all over his skin.

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.

And he surrendered as he had never been able to before all of this began. His shoulders relaxed and his fierce struggling even while being knotted subsided, his thighs only giving soft trembles from being rammed into the cement so often in the last while. He kept his face buried into the crook of the Soldier's neck, breathing in the rich scent of the alpha, letting it fill his head with - no doubt - false promises. Their bond wasn't absolute; the bite hadn't been right over the gland after all, but it was strong in the time of their mating. As he was wrapped up in those often brutal mismatched arms, he slipped his own around the Soldier's back, holding on lightly.

His eyes closed, his breath evening to little huffs as pleasure continued to assault him, taking the edge off of the pain of previous brutality. Slowly, unbidden, his fingers began to trace along the bunches of muscles that rose powerfully on the Soldier's back, starting high over the shoulders and working his way down. As if he was finally committing this alpha's shape, scent and feel to his memory.

In the pitch dark with no sound, he would be able to identify this alpha immediately. Scent and touch was a powerful tool, but never before had he allowed himself to do this, always struggling and fight his very instincts. Now, he was committing it all to memory in the purely omega part of his brain. Safety came with remembrance after all.

The sense of a bond was extraordinarily soothing, calming even the most brutal instincts to assault and conquer his mate. If the asset had any memory, any concept of the passing of time beyond the moment and the mission, he would have regretted not doing this from the first knotting, marking his claim utterly on his own omega. But Hydra had wanted to avoid it as much as Rumlow had; they wanted their soldier's brutality, wanted him murderous and cold, not protective and possessing, cradling Rumlow underneath him as the pleasure drew out until he felt sunk into a state of soporific contentment. He cupped the man's jaw and lifted his face up to kiss him lazily as the muscles of his back twitched in pleasurable greed at the stroking and petting.

His knot was slowly beginning to subside, though he stayed buried deep inside of him, kissing along his jaw and throat and rocking his hips subtly through the wet grip of his hole. Awareness of a world outside of his mate was returning as the asset began to listen to the shifting sounds the rubble was making. Before he might have been so caught up in their mating that he would have fucked and knotted his omega until the wreckage collapsed around them, but now his protectiveness was stronger. Rumlow was his.

He murmured some filthy endearment in Russian, not paying any attention to what language he was speaking as he pulled his cock out of Rumlow's hole and dragged the man upright. "Time to leave."

There was a moment when he tried to scrape together his dislike, the promise of long ago to someday kill this alpha who continually thwarted his attempts to not be ruled by his biology. When he had been young, mewling and weak, he had promised himself that he would be the one to murder the Soldier, to have his revenge for those hours of torment, only to reaffirm that want again and again after ever heat. No matter how much he tried to drag back all those old feelings, they slipped through his mind like water through his fingers.

There was a certain euphoric safety to the bond, a sense of belonging where no one could mock his biology. He could stay just like this with the shudder of concrete and growl of straining rebar. Instead, he found himself pulled to his feet, his world tilting so that he leaned heavily on the alpha. His pants were not salvageable, and he came back to the reality of the situation with the hot sticky mess starting to slide down his bare thighs.

"...and go where?" Despite his heat making thinking difficult, he was casting around for all the contingencies, all the pre-assigned safe houses, all the little nooks and crannies they could hide in until HYDRA came for them... or his heat was over and who knows what would happen when they had enough capacity to plan together.

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