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English
Series:
Part 2 of Broken Pieces and Unbreakable Bonds
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Published:
2022-03-01
Completed:
2022-09-29
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99,669
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16/16
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Second Chances

Summary:

After Bucky, Zemo and Brock bonded, they decided to move in together to try and make their relationship work.

But a month later, things are far from perfect for the trio. While Zemo tries to make a home for them, Bucky and Brock attempt to deal with the ghosts haunting their past.

Notes:

Thank you to everyone who read part one, I hope you will enjoy part two!

Special thank you to the WinterBaronBones thread on the discord, and to roasteddonut and Niki, whose editing and suggestion have been invaluable 🙏

*If you don't like the look of this ship then don't read, but please let me know if you think the tags should be updated!*

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter Text

*

Winter woke up lying on a rooftop. He jerked awake, his eyes darting about for threats. None within the vicinity. He moved slowly back into position, lying down with his belly against the smooth stone of the rooftop. It was still dark, though the sun was just rising. He’d lain awake like that all through the night, but at some point he must have fallen asleep at his post. He knew with certainty that he would need to be punished for that later. It was necessary to ensure that it wouldn’t happen again. He always made mistakes eventually, no matter how hard he tried not to. It wasn’t the programming at fault; he wasn’t due a wipe. No, this was his own error. He was HYDRA’s asset, but still an imperfect soldier - that was why he needed punishment so often. He adjusted the scope of the rifle propped on supports in front of him as calls to prayer rose over the city.

Then there was a sound of a rifle shot, and the scene around him changed. He found himself sitting on a worn, patterned blanket covering a bed while his handler removed his uniform, gently helping him ease out of the leather.

“You’re overheating”, the man said.

Winter nodded in agreement. He was aware of that, but he’d had to stay out in the sun to finish the mission. That was the priority. Damage to the asset was secondary to mission success.

He looked down at the bare stone floor. He didn’t deserve this. He’d fallen asleep last night. He needed to be corrected, not looked after. He told his handler this, but the young man with dark brown eyes and close-cropped hair ignored him. When Winter was down to his briefs, his handler sat down on the bed next to him and handed him a flask of water.

“Come on, drink this. Slowly, ok?”

Winter took the flask, making sure to do as he was told instead of downing the whole thing in one go.

“You should get some rest, Win,” the man murmured.

Winter tensed, expecting his ma- his handler to say that he was going to leave. But instead, Rumlow unlaced his boots and lay down on the bed next to him. “Relax,” he says, running a hand gently through Winter’s hair. “Gotta give you Alpha Contact Time, don’t I?”

But what about after that? , Winter thought. But he didn’t dare to ask for more. Especially when he knew that his handler should be punishing him for endangering the mission.

His Alpha didn’t wrap his arms around him like he usually would - it was far too hot for that. Instead, he reached over and picked up a small paper bag. 

“Close your eyes and open up.”

Winter obeyed, feeling his heart fluttering in his chest. The thing Rumlow placed into his mouth was soft and ovular and Winter recognised it as a date as the sweetness burst over his tongue.

“You like that?”

Winter hummed appreciatively. It was real food , not the bland liquid rations he was usually given. It has flavor, texture. But…he didn't feel he’d earnt this. He had messed up…

“Stop it, Win.”

Winter immediately stopped chewing and prepared to spit out the reward.

“No, no. It’s ok. I mean, I can feel you…” Rumlow hesitated before pointing at his head. “...In here. You did good, ok? You eliminated the mark. You can stop worrying.”

Winter nodded, a little uncertainly. Karpov would have punished him without hesitation if he’d fallen asleep like that. He was glad Zemo drowned him in a sink.

He opened his mouth to accept another date from his mate, his tongue running over the fingers that gently pressed into his mouth. His Alpha’s eyes darkened and Winter could hear his heart beating faster, his breathing growing heavy. He liked where this was going, but he was too hot…

The scene changed again, and Winter felt Rumlow washing his hair in a cool bowl of water, running his fingers from root to tip. Now his mate was following the trails of water that ran down his chest, mingling with the salt of his sweat…

No, still too hot.

Bucky rolled over, kicking his legs free of the tangled sheet, spreading out like a starfish.

He was actually awake this time. The room was dark, but there was sunlight filtering in through the cracks in the closed blinds. The AC had broken a few days ago and the landlord hadn’t yet fixed it, so the window was open, bringing with it a sluggish breeze carrying the scent of exhaust fumes and the sound of car horns and people down on the street. He tensed as a siren went past, feeling instantly alert as his heart started racing. Bucky groaned, burying his head under the cool side of the pillow. But even that was too warm. 

He heard something banging against a wall from next door. It sounded like his mates were moving furniture, but they weren’t due to move into the new house for another week yet... Bucky walked out into the corridor, and that’s when he heard the moans.

“Oh Brock, yes, yes, just like that…”

“Call me ‘Commander’!”

“Only if you call me ‘Colonel’!”

“Fuck, that’s not gonna work…”

Bucky smirked in amusement at his mates and stepped into the shower, letting the cold water flow over him. When he was clean and sufficiently cooled down, he got out and wrapped a towel around his waist. He didn’t want to put his arm on yet so he didn’t bother to retrieve it from where it was in its case next to the bed. Instead, he walked into the kitchen and saw that Brock was kneeling between Zemo’s legs while Zemo sprawled back on the piano bench. 

“Good morning, James,” he panted, looking up when Bucky entered the room. “I was…just teaching….Brock how to play.” 

“Naked?”

“Well, we got a little…ah!”, Zemo broke off with a gasp as Brock did something that made his head fall back and his voice drop an octave. “...distracted.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky said, walking over to the kitchen. “Well, do you mind finishing up? I wanna make myself some breakfast.”

At that, Brock moved off Zemo’s dick and turned to face him, wiping slick and precum from his mouth with the back of his hand. “Don’t you wanna join us, Win?”

Bucky shook his head. “Maybe later. What round is this, anyway?”

“I dunno,” he said with a shrug, turning back to his Omega and pulling Zemo down onto the floor with him. Zemo laughed in surprise, the sound changing to a groan as Brock bent his head to his cock once more. 

Bucky shook his head. They were like a pair of teenagers. Bucky was pretty sure he wasn’t in the honeymoon phase anymore. At least, he’d stopped feeling like he needed to fuck his mates at every possible opportunity, which had honestly come as a relief. Brock and Zemo, on the other hand, were still going at it night and day and dragging him along for the ride. And sure, he could physically keep up with them, but just because he was a supersoldier didn’t mean he had a libido to match his mates. Bucky sighed and poured out his oatmeal, added water and stuck it in the microwave. At least they had each other.

But the moans, growling and the sounds their Alpha was making with his mouth were making Bucky’s cock twitch with interest and he clenched his fist, willing himself to calm down.

Twenty seconds…

The lewd slurping continued, punctuated by Zemo’s wanton moans and the appreciative growling of an Alpha being satiated by Omega hormones.

Ten seconds…

Bucky groaned and palmed his hard cock through the now tented towel as he stared at the glowing numbers on the screen. Fuck , he could feel Zemo coming through the bond…

Five…

Oh god , now Brock was coming too, grinding his hips against the floor as he came all over the rug. Bucky closed his eyes, stifling a moan as he felt his skin growing hot as arousal flooded his body.

“James?”, Zemo slurred. “Are you okay?”

“I’m good,” Bucky managed, opening the microwave door and grabbing the bowl from inside. “Just gonna go eat this and take a shower.” Another one , he added mentally. 

“Are you sure you don’t want-”

“I’m fine! I just…need some space.”

Bucky went into the bedroom quickly and closed the door behind him. He took several long, deep breaths. His cock was still hard, but he ignored it. He wasn’t even horny. He was still more than satisfied from yesterday. He was glad his two mates had each other or they would have completely exhausted him. He was not used to sharing his brain with two horny animals. He loved them, he really did, but how was he supposed to think with all the noise going on outside and in the next room?

He sat cross legged on the bed and dipped his spoon into the steaming bowl of oatmeal. He ate this most days, but suddenly the food was too plain, and the consistency seemed moist, cloying and lumpy…

No. He spat the mouthful out and set the bowl down on the bedside table. Damn. Better add that to the list . Smoothies, soup, risotto, mashed potato- regardless of their taste, they all reminded him of the so-called ‘food’ he’d been forced to eat in HYDRA.

Bucky sighed. The memories hadn’t been this vivid for years, but ever since he’d bonded to Brock all this stuff was coming up again and he’d been much jumpier than usual.

One moment, he was still thinking about the situation logically, as though from the outside, and the next, he felt his heart rate speeding up and his breathing was coming short and sharp. He leaned over his own knees and managed to press his forehead down into the mattress just as the worst of it hit. 

The overpowering odor of bleach filled his nostrils, and he was watching someone drag the mass of a body across the floor, leaving a wet streak of blood behind. It’s face…it didn’t have a face anymore, but he felt like it was staring at him. Like it knew he was responsible…

“It’s broken again.”

He’s not broken, are you Win?”

He stared at the mop one of the techs had in hand and the water that slopped onto the floor, diluting the blood a dirty pink.

“Come on, let's get you cleaned up.”

He was washed. A bowl of rations was handed to him. He stared at it, and then at Rumlow who was looking at him expectantly. He didn’t want to disappoint his mate.

“That’s my good boy.”

“James.”

Bucky became aware of Zemo lying on the bed behind him, holding him. He wanted to turn over and cling on tight but he couldn’t move. 

“Breathe with me.”

It was a simple command to follow. Zemo's breath was slowly and deliberately exaggerated and Bucky focused on that, using it as a guide until their breathing began to synchronize. The weight of Zemo’s body behind him was solid and reassuring. It made him feel safe, being close to him like this, like somehow Zemo’s smaller body could contain him. He felt like the fire in his head was being doused with water, a river of calm reassurance washing over him. 

He lay there for a while in his mate’s arms, slowly feeling himself return to his body. He was sweating, and he shifted slightly to wipe the tears from his cheeks, suddenly feeling angry and frustrated with himself.

“None of that now,” Zemo murmured. “What happened?”

“The oatmeal,” Bucky replied. “Couldn’t eat it.”

“Ah, I see. I thought it might have been because we were mating in the other room.”

“Maybe. I’m not sure.”

“I think it will be better when we’ve moved,” Zemo said. “It’s awfully cramped in this apartment with the three of us living here.”

“You’re telling me,” Bucky said, before lapsing into silence. He closed his eyes and focused in on the bond, still following the rise and fall of Zemo’s chest against his back. He sighed when Zemo began running his fingers through his hair, relaxing into the sensation. 

“I thought I was getting better,” Bucky said after a moment. The sound came out rough from his dry throat. Zemo handed him a glass of water, and he drank before saying, “It’s supposed to get better over time, right?”

“Well, yes. But it’s not always a linear progression.” Zemo said. “I think we both know that it’s been getting worse for you since Brock came into our lives.”

“Mm,” Bucky said in agreement, feeling a pit of dread opening in his stomach about what that might mean.

“It makes sense,” Zemo went on. “He was a constant for you when you were in HYDRA, so memories of that time are bound to start coming up now that you’re with him again.”

Bucky could tell that his mate was holding something back. “What is it?”

“I really think you should talk to someone about this, James.”

“I thought you were trying to find us a therapist?”

Zemo sighed. “Yes, but it is proving to be extremely difficult to find a relationship counselor who is willing to work with us. I mean to say, that I think you should see someone personally.”

Bucky knew that his mate was right. He needed someone who was going to help him unpack everything that was going on in his head. Someone who was good at their job, not some government stooge like Raynor. Someone who actually cared about his well-being and wasn’t going to sign him off at the first opportunity. 

“I’ll do it when we’ve moved,” he said. “There’ll be someone in Boston I can see. I’m pretty sure Sam knows a guy.”

“Ok,” Zemo said, placing a kiss on Bucky’s shoulder.

They were both silent for a moment. Part of Bucky desperately wanted Rumlow to come in and be with them, but most of him felt like he couldn’t deal with being near him right now.

“He’s just in the shower,” Zemo said, feeling Bucky trying to reach out for their other mate. “I don’t think he felt your distress, but I’m not certain.”

“But you felt it straight away?”

“Yes, of course.”

Bucky sighed. “You’re right. Something in our bond with him is definitely messed up.”

“Yes,” Zemo agreed. “Though I don’t know what. I had thought that it might have been something to do with the hormone medicine we used when bonding, but now I’m not so sure. There seems little evidence to support that in the research that I’ve done.”

“Who knows?”, Bucky said with a sigh. “Probably nothing we can do about it anyway. What’s done is done.”

“I don’t know about that,” Zemo said thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss the possibility that there is something we can do.”

“You can’t change him, Zemo. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

“I disagree.”

Bucky knew that Zemo was going to be stubborn about this, so maybe it was better to let his mate’s stubborn optimism run its course. He’d thought things would be different, back when he and Brock had first bonded. And they had been different, just not necessarily better. In retrospect it just made it hurt more that Brock cared about him, and yet was still willing to put him through everything he had.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Zemo said. “But you’re wrong. This is an entirely different situation, and we have the means and the resources at our disposal to find out whatever is wrong with him and fix it.”

“Just don’t make him your project. He’s not gonna like that.”

“As you say, but you know I’m not good at letting things go. If I think I can help him, then I will.” 

Outside the door, Brock clenched his fists and tore himself away so that he’d stop listening to what they were saying about him.

*

They know there’s something wrong with me, Brock thought. They know I’m broken.

The thoughts went around and around his head as he sat in the back seat of the car on the way to his apartment. Zemo was driving and Winter sat in the passenger seat, both of them talking about the upcoming move. 

They know there's something wrong…

He shook his head. 

Forget that now, you've got a job to do. Take all those feelings and squash them down so that no one can see them and they can't hurt you no more. Just be normal. Show them that you're ok. Just calm the fuck down…

He wasn't feeling much better by the time he reluctantly opened the door to his apartment. The light had been left on, and the room smelled of cigarettes and spilled alcohol. He glanced at the spot on the wall where his fist had gone through the plaster. He definitely wasn’t getting his deposit back now. The TV screen had smashed where he'd fallen into it, and when he bent down to look at it he realized that his Xbox was broken too. Fuck.

"We can get you a new one," Zemo said, leaning over his shoulder.

"Don't need no charity," Brock grunted. 

"Think of it as a gift, then."

Yeah, but what do you expect in return? Brock thought. Nothing was ever free, and he'd prefer to know the price so he knew what he was getting into. He propped the monitor up and pressed the power button without much hope, but to his surprise it flared into life. Huh. Maybe he could get it repaired.

He watched as Winter looked around the room. His Beta had barely spoken to him today. It was like he was avoiding him for some reason. He didn’t think he’d done anything, but maybe he had and he just didn't know it?

What haven't you done to him? Brock thought. He probably hates you. Who are you kidding; he definitely hates you. He won't even look at you. You don't deserve him, or the Baron. They're better off without you.

Winter walked into the kitchen and Brock scrambled to his feet at the sound of the cupboard opening. "Hey, wait a minute…" 

He moved behind Winter, reaching out as though to stop him, but it was too late. His mate was already staring at the contents. A mess of empty bottles - vodka mostly, but a few bottles of cheap rum and whiskey too - had been shoved in there out of sight.

"Why did you keep all these?", Winter asked.

Brock shrugged. He didn't have an answer that made sense. It was just a habit after years of HYDRA performing house inspections. He couldn't have them finding out how weak he was if they decided to go through his trash. 

"I'll get a bag," Brock mumbled.

"Hey, it's ok," Winter said, catching his arm. "You don't need to be ashamed."

He hates you. 

"I'm not," Brock growled, tugging his arm out Winter's grip. 

He walked past his mate to the bedroom and sank down onto the bed.

After sleeping on a couch for the last month, it was nice to be back in his own bed. It smelled of himself, even if the cover could use a wash. 

He got up, pulling out his knapsack from under the bed and began opening the drawers and stuffing clothes into it. He didn't buy much, but he also never got rid of anything, and soon the bag was full. 

He glanced around the room, and spotted Zemo's blue robe on the floor. "Hey, Baron. You want this?", he called. 

Zemo came into the room to look at what he was holding. He shook his head. "No, just throw it out.”

"You could wash it."

"It's been covered in slick for weeks Brock," Zemo said, taking it from him and with a look of disgust. "I don't want it."

"But it smells of you."

"You have me, ljubavi . You can scent me whenever you want. You don't need that to remind you."

"...ok."

Zemo bundled it into a trash bag and waded through the mess of clothes, bottles and empty pizza boxes to the window. He jerked the blinds open so that the sunlight streamed in. "Let's get to work."

*

They'd hired a storage unit, but once they'd cleaned up, Zemo realized that that had probably been unnecessary. Brock really didn't own much, and none of the furniture in the apartment, with the exception of the smashed TV, belonged to him. That left mostly clothes, DVDs, videogames and a large, black lockbox that Brock wouldn't let either of them touch.

"What's in there, Brock?", Zemo asked. 

"Private stuff," Brock replied, carrying it past them and down to the car. "No guns or nothin'. Just mine."

"Hey, don't look at me," James said to Zemo once Brock had gone. "'I've never seen it before."

Zemo knelt down next to the TV and began packing the DVDs into a cardboard box. 

Action movies, comedies…he froze when he set eyes on a box set. It was one of those terrible true crime documentary series, but this one was entitled 'Omegas who Kill.' Curious, he pulled the cases out of the sleeve and examined them. He stopped at 'Baron Zemo: The Sokovian Revenger'. Truly, an awful title. 

Without a word to James, Zemo popped open the case and slipped the disc into the DVD player. 

When you hear AGGRESSION, when you hear VIOLENCE, when you hear MURDER. you think: ALPHA! 

Zemo winced at the loud screeching sound effect and turned the volume down.

But in this shocking series, we uncover the cases you'd least expect. This is: OMEGAS WHO KILL!

He noticed that James had come over. “What’s that?,” he asked.

Zemo didn’t reply, instead he watched as photographs of himself appeared. His mugshot filled the screen as the narrator began listing his, admittedly extensive, crimes. He turned it off with a sigh when they started showing pictures of his family.

There was a moment's silence before Zemo said stiffly, “I remember hearing about this so-called documentary. They tried to interview Oeznik for it. Following its release I started receiving a considerable amount of disturbing and poorly written fanmail.”

“I never watch that stuff,” Bucky said with a look of disgust on his face. “There’s a ton of Winter Soldier documentaries, and Cap stuff about our unit. Pretty much all of it is a bunch of bullshit.”

Zemo nodded thoughtfully. “It occurs to me that this is all our Alpha knows about my past.”

“Well, you never talk about it.”

“It’s hardly relevant.”

James sat down next to him on the floor. “You don’t believe that?”, he said softly.

Zemo pressed a button on the player and ejected the disc, returning it to its case. “There are more pressing matters to deal with, James. We’re in the process of moving house.”

He stood up and James followed his lead. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, really,” Zemo said, but James had already felt his distress and wrapped his arms around him.

At that moment, Zemo heard footsteps in the corridor and Brock rushed back into the apartment. He ran past, ignoring them completely, and after a moment there there was a crash from the direction of the bedroom. 

*

When they came into the room, Brock was frantically going through his dresser drawers, pulling everything out. He grabbed a small orange pill bottle just as Bucky entered the room.

“What’s up, Bones?”

Brock threw the empty bottle away with a growl. “Fuck! I’m out.”

He got up and shoved past them to the bathroom.

“What do you need?”, Bucky asked following after him. 

Brock yanked open the medicine cabinet and began rummaging around inside. “Supposed to take suppressants today, it’s been a month since my last rut.”

“Brock, you’re not going to spontaneously go into rut if you miss a day,” Zemo said to the panicked Alpha.

“You don’t know that!”, Brock shouted, running a hand through his hair agitatedly. “Fuck!”

Zemo frowned at him and tilted his head to one side. “I'd been off suppressants for over a month, and I still hadn't had a heat until I forced one."

"You're an Omega, it's not the same!" 

“Ok, look,” Bucky interrupted before Zemo could respond. “How about Zemo stays here and keeps packing while I drive you to the drug store?”

The Alpha took a deep breath and nodded, still avoiding his gaze. “Yeah, alright.”

“Great, let's go.

*

Bucky glanced at Rumlow, who was rubbing the scars on the left side of his face almost as if he didn’t realize he was doing it. He’d noticed that his mate did that when he was anxious about something, so he didn’t comment on it.

“Can’t you go any faster?”, Brock asked impatiently.

“I’m going the speed limit, I’m not trying to get us arrested.”

The Alpha huffed and resumed staring out of the window.

Bucky knew how regimented Brock used to be about taking his rut suppressants and it seemed that nothing had changed. Only now, he had to remember to take them himself.

“Zemo’s right, y’know,” Bucky said after a minute. “I’m pretty sure it’s not gonna come on that fast.”

But Brock seemed not to hear him. “Just pull up there,” he said, indicating a store up ahead. He was opening the door before Bucky had even brought the car to a stop.

He returned a few minutes later looking slightly more relaxed with a paper bag and climbed back into the car.

“All good?”, Bucky asked.

“Yeah,” Brock said, unscrewing the bottle and popping one of the pills into his mouth. He cracked open the can of coke he’d bought and took a swig to wash it down. “I got Quell. Couldn’t get Restrainin because they said my prescription was expired.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“Types of suppressants. Quell’s not as strong so you have to take it twice a day. Swear I almost went into rut on it one time. But better than nothing, I guess.”

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you did go into rut again, Bones.”

Rumlow turned to him, an expression of horror on his face. “What? How can you say that? I don’t wanna hurt you, or the Baron. Fuck, I don’t know what I’d do if I did…”

“Who said anything about hurting us?”

“You know why they wouldn’t let me be with you when I was in rut?”, Rumlow said. “Why they used to lock me up?”

Bucky stared at him in confusion. “HYDRA did that to keep us apart.”

“Yeah, exactly. So you'd be safe.”

“No, I mean that they did that because they didn’t want me getting too close. Too attached .”

Rumlow nodded. “Right. But I’d still have hurt you if I’d been with you in rut.”

“I don’t know, Bones. I don’t think you should just believe what they told you.”

“I hurt the Baron when I was in rut.”

Bucky fell silent. He didn’t have an answer for that, but he also didn’t think that the artificial rut hormones had been entirely to blame for the Alpha’s behavior. Brock had done that deliberately to try and push Bucky to…

“It’s too dangerous.” Rumlow said, interrupting his thought. “I don’t wanna risk it.”

Bucky sighed. “Ok. I guess it’s your decision.”

“Wish I could get the stuff they gave us back in HYDRA though,” the Alpha went on. “They scheduled everything for us, no problem. Took the money for it straight out of our wages. Didn’t have to worry about a thing.” 

Bucky shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t know where to even start with that, Bones."

Rumlow shrugged, as if to say it was no big deal but he wasn’t going to argue his point.

“It wasn’t ok,” Bucky insisted. “You know that, right?”

“I know what they put you through, Win.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t just me, was it?”

Rumlow frowned in confusion. “Whaddaya mean?”

“Controlling your money, forcing you to take medication…”

“It was easier.”

Bucky shook his head. “I don’t wanna hear stuff like that.”

“Then don’t ask.”

“Fine, I won’t.”

Bucky turned back to the road. He tried to focus in on the bond, but all he got back was a buzz of radio static. 

“We’re ok, right?”, he asked after a few minutes. “You’re not mad at me, or something?”

“I’m not mad.”

“Sure?”

“Said so, didn’t I?”

Bucky sighed. “It’s gonna be fine. Things will be better when we move.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

*

When they got back to Brock’s apartment, Bucky went to the bedroom and started quickly packing the remaining clothes into a suitcase. Being back reminded him too much of the last time he’d been here, and he started thinking about the argument he’d had with Brock 

He knew that Rumlow had been trying to rile him up the whole time, but he couldn’t stop thinking about some of the things he’d said.

So now you’re coming to me because you need me to fuck your boyfriend. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time.

He didn’t know if Rumlow had meant what he’d said. If Rumlow had actually… been with Steve. Bucky didn’t know if that had really happened, or if he’d just been trying to make him mad.

And Bucky still couldn’t believe that Brock hadn’t told Steve about him. If Brock had been looking for an out back then, surely it would have made sense? But no, he hadn’t, for whatever reason. Maybe they hadn’t been…close after all. Or maybe Brock hadn’t been looking for a way out until he’d been faced with prison time. He certainly seemed to think that there'd been a lot of good things about being in HYDRA back in the car.

It was really fucking hot. I can see why you liked him. Such a big, sexy Alpha. Bet he made you slick up like an Omega bitch for him.

Bucky closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath. He didn’t want to think about Steve. He especially didn’t want to think about Rumlow and Steve together , because if it was true, then what right had Steve had to chew him out like he had about being bonded to him?

Bucky felt a swell of arousal in the bond and heard indistinct slick sounds coming from the other room. 

They definitely had a lot to talk about, but unfortunately that was the one thing they weren’t doing.

*

Chapter Text

*

Bucky sighed and relaxed back against his mate as he felt Brock’s knot expanding inside him. His Alpha wrapped an arm around Bucky’s waist, covering his flesh hand with his own. He noticed that when they were tied like this, Brock would always hold onto his hands tightly. Zemo was lying on Bucky’s other side facing him, slowly palming Bucky's still-hard cock. He leaned in to kiss Bucky’s bottom lip, before opening his mouth and plunging his tongue in. Bucky moaned, pressing into his Omega’s hand.

He heard Brock gasp slightly, and grip onto him tighter. "Don't move, 'k?", he said, nuzzling at Bucky's neck. 

"Okay," Bucky agreed.

Zemo kissed him again, capturing his lips as his skillful fingers stroked him from base to tip.

“Does that feel good, James?”, he asked.

“Mmm…yeah. Don’t stop.”

“I wasn’t planning to.”

As well as his own pleasure, he felt his Omega's satisfaction vibrating through the bond. That morning, Bucky had kissed and licked and bit Zemo while Brock fucked him until he came, Zemo’s cock untouched except for the friction of their two bodies. 

Bucky tilted his head back for Zemo now, as his mate trailed kisses down his neck. The feeling of stubble brushing against the sensitive skin made him want to buck his hips, but he remembered at the last moment to keep still for the sake of his Alpha. Brock's knot was still keeping them locked together, occasionally pulsing if one of them moved even slightly. 

Zemo was moving down to mouth at his chest, and Brock leaned into Bucky's neck and began kissing him. He turned his head to his Alpha, offering his lips as his Omega took one of his nipples in his mouth. Bucky felt the bond between them humming and felt Zemo's eagerness as he trailed kisses down Bucky’s body until he reached his cock. He gasped as Zemo licked a broad stroke underneath and over the top until his lips encompassed the head. Bucky moaned shakily as he felt the cock in his ass shift and Zemo took his own into his mouth. 

Brock growled and gripped onto him tighter, claiming his mouth. As well as heated lips and tongue and the roughness of his beard, Bucky caught fragments of what his Alpha was feeling. It was hard to decipher, but it felt like he was enjoying claiming him. 

Bucky moaned louder as Zemo swirled his tongue around the head of his cock and looked up at him as he licked him. 

"Oh, fuck Zemo,” he panted. “I'm gonna come…"

Zemo took him almost all the way to the root, and Bucky gasped as he felt the warm, wet heat around him and then he was coming hard in his mouth. Zemo swallowed it down, before pulling off and pressing a wet kiss to Bucky's thigh. They were both panting heavily, and when Zemo moved back up to kiss him he tasted himself on his mate's tongue. 

"I'm going to take a shower now," Zemo said, reaching over Bucky's shoulder to kiss their Alpha.

"Stay," Brock growled.

"No, we have a lot to do today. I want to start getting ready."

Brock was still knotting him, but Bucky could tell that he wanted to grab Zemo and hold onto him, his instinct to keep his Omega with him still strong. 

"Hey," Bucky said softly as Zemo left the room, "He's only gone next door."

Brock growled against his shoulder and bit him slightly in frustration.

“Don't worry, I’m not going anywhere,” Bucky said reassuringly, letting his eyes fall closed.

"Got you. You're mine, Winter. My good boy."

"Uh huh…"

"No one's gonna take you away."

Bucky felt his mind drifting to other times when Brock had held him like this. Back when there had been a very real threat of someone finding them and separating them. He tensed as he heard the bathroom door opening.

"Hey, it's ok, Win," Brock whispered. "It's just Zemo."

Bucky nodded, feeling his heart rate speeding up. Brock seemed to notice too, because he said, "Shh it's ok, you're safe. I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you."

His mate was here. It was ok, they were safe…So why did he feel like someone was about to come and tear him away from his Alpha at any minute? Why was he worrying about Rumlow pushing him away, telling him to stop bothering him, complain about him messing with his head?

Bucky forced himself to keep still, not wanting to pull on the knot that tied them together. Luckily, he felt it releasing, and he felt himself relaxing slightly in response.

"Win?"

Bucky found himself unable to respond. He gasped slightly as Rumlow eased out of him but he stayed on his side so that he wouldn't have to turn to look at him.

"What's up?", Rumlow asked after a minute. 

Bucky swallowed. "Nothing. Just…memories, I guess."

"Oh."

It seemed that Rumlow didn't know what else to say to that, so Bucky turned over, forcing his face into a more neutral expression.

"Don't worry, all good," he said, placing a kiss onto Rumlow's cheek. "I'm gonna go take a shower too."

He didn't wait for his Alpha's response before walking out of the room and closing the door behind him. Once outside though, he found he needed the wall at his back just to keep his feet under him. 

Fuckfuckfuck… this wasn't supposed to happen. Everything was fine, he shouldn't be feeling like this…

Bucky wasn't even sure what exactly he was feeling, but Brock kept doing and saying things that put him right back… there. Right back in the mindset he'd been in in HYDRA. 

He was good at starting over. He’d had to be. Bucky hadn’t had a choice about that. After HYDRA fell, he’d survived on the run for years without anyone. And then, he’d been taken to Wakanda and he’d been with Steve…

Bucky shut that line of thinking down quickly before it could spin out of control, and leaned back against the wall with a sigh. His peace never lasted for long. After Steve, there’d been the war, five years as dust, and then it was back to Brooklyn. And now he had two mates, and he was moving again- so why was starting over this time so hard? 

Bucky knew that he wanted to be with them, that he wanted to be with Rumlow. That's what he’d always dreamed of, in some form or another. But right now…sometimes he couldn't stand to be in the same room as him. 

I’m so tired , he thought. I wish I could just forget about what happened in the past…

He looked up as the bathroom door opened and Zemo came out of the bathroom wearing a bathrobe.

Without a word, Zemo came over and stood next to him and took his flesh hand in between his two slimmer ones. He was looking at him with such sympathy and understanding. 

"I'm sorry," Bucky said, running his other hand through his hair. "I'm ruining everything."

"Everything will be alright, James,” Zemo said, putting his arm around him. “Trust me."

Bucky nodded. He knew that Zemo believed that, but right now he just felt so awful. 

“Go and take a shower,” Zemo said, “I promise you, you’ll feel better.”

He sighed. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Good. I will make you some breakfast.”

Bucky hesitated at the bathroom door. “Not oatmeal.”

Zemo nodded. “No, of course not.”

*

Rumlow opened the window in the back of Zemo’s car and lit a cigarette. This was it. They were leaving the city. It would be a four and half hour drive to Cape Cod, but the fact that the Baron almost always drove the speed limit in his silver BMW 7 meant it would be a much faster journey. 

Brock glanced up at Winter who was sitting in the passenger seat. He looked relaxed, chatting with Zemo and laughing at his jokes, but Brock just somehow knew that something was up with him, even if his mate was trying to pretend that nothing was wrong. He’d started freaking out when they were knotted this morning, which was weird enough, but then he’d just said it was because of 'memories’? What did that even mean?

Brock took a drag on his cigarette and blew smoke out the window as he listened to the Baron talking to Winter about plans for the house.

“It’s secluded, with lots of trees around it,” Zemo said animatedly. “The back of the property opens onto the woods, but it also overlooks a little cove, and the beach is ours."

Brock already knew all this. Zemo had shown them both pictures online, but none of them had actually seen it in person. It was still kind of hard to believe that it was real. Brock had never lived anywhere like that before. He’d never even lived in a real house. Only apartments, and before that the trailer he’d grown up in with his family. There’d been a short time where he’d lived at his ma’s after she’d split from his Pops, but that hadn’t lasted long. 

"..And there's a little Sokovian bakery within walking distance of the property."

"Did you buy the house because of the bakery?", Winter asked.

Zemo quirked a little smile at that. "Among other things. I’m sure that we’ll all enjoy spending time outside this summer.”

Brock looked out of the window as they drove along the coast. When was the last time I saw the sea? , he wondered. It must have been when he was in HYDRA. Back when he understood Winter completely, and all he had to do was follow orders and he knew that everything would work out okay. 

His mates were chatting now about their new garden, about how they wanted to build a brick barbeque, or maybe get a small smoker and enjoy meat and fish outside. He closed his eyes and thought about it. He could picture it in his mind: the Baron enjoying a glass of wine in a deckchair and Winter over at the grill, turning some shrimp or wieners. The two of them happily talking to one another, easy and casual as they relaxed in the summer sun.

Yeah, but where do I fit into the picture? Brock asked himself. I can’t talk about normal things like that, not after what I tried to do to them. After everything I’ve done, I don’t deserve to be part of that.

He felt a pointless rage well up inside him. Low class trash , the Baron’s words still echoed in Brock’s mind; and Zemo was right. Even without all the HYDRA shit, he was still just some kid from a junkyard, a low-life thief -

Brock felt that awful yanking in his brain and opened his eyes to see Winter staring at him from the passenger seat.

“What?” he snapped.

“I don’t know,” Winter said. “The bond. You just started… I don’t know, it was something bad.”

“Keep out of my fucking head, then!”

Winter turned away, and they drove in silence for a few minutes. Brock could feel the bond prickly with flashes of annoyance and disappointment. He’d fucked up again, and they knew it. 

“Can we take a break?” Rumlow groaned, rubbing his forehead. “I feel like shit.”

*

They pulled up at a small beachside cafe for lunch and took a seat at a picnic table outside.

Brock ordered a beer and a chicken salad, and picked at it as he turned to watch Winter walk down to the edge of the water. He definitely seemed off. If he'd been acting like this when they were back in HYDRA, Brock would know that some shit was about to go down. But with 'Bucky', who knew?

He turned back to Zemo who was sitting opposite him eating a club sandwich.

"What's up with Winter?", Brock asked. "He's acting like he's pissed at me or something.'

Zemo set his food down. "He's just finding it hard, Brock."

"Whaddaya mean?"

"Being with you is hard for him right now because it's bringing up memories that he isn't sure how to deal with."

So it was my fault, Brock thought. He knew he was fucking this up with Winter. 

"Brock," Zemo said sympathetically, laying his hand on Brock's arm. "It's not your fault. Not really."

Brock pulled away, crossing his arms in front of him. "You reading my mind again, Baron?"

"No,” Zemo said calmly. “I don't need to do that. It's written on your face."

Brock huffed and turned back to look at Winter who was now walking along the shoreline. Brock didn't like how far away his mate was, and he felt like he needed to keep an eye on him to make sure that was safe.

"He'll be fine, moj tigric ."

Brock turned back to Zemo. "What's that mean again?"

Zemo smiled. "My tiger." 

"Why do you call me that?"

"You remind me of one. The way you growl, and are so protective of us. The way that you're so territorial about your possessions…I could go on."

Brock considered that for a minute before saying. "Tigers are kind of badass."

He watched as Zemo finished eating and stood up. He was dressed in a blue shirt which he’d unbuttoned a little at the top. Brock could see the necklace he always wore resting against his chest. His sleeves were rolled up and his arms were freckled even more than usual from the sun. Brock knew it must have been a long time since he’d been outside during the summer and felt the sunlight on his skin. He’s beautiful, Brock thought as he stared at his mate. I can't believe he's mine.

Brock stood up and walked around the bench to his mate, before moving in close and wrapping his hands around Zemo’s waist.

The Baron smirked up at him and Brock leaned in to kiss him. Zemo kissed him back eagerly, and Brock tasted the sweetness of the lemonade on his tongue. Unlike James, Zemo had no reservations about public displays of affection. Brock only noticed that Zemo had entwined his finger with his when he pulled back and looked down at their joined hands. 

Brock remained keenly aware of that fact as they both walked down to the beach together. No one had ever held his hand like this before and it felt…strange. The Baron's hand was warm, smaller than his own but he seemed so sure of himself, like this was easy for him. Like he had no problem just casually taking Brock's hand. Zemo glanced at him briefly and smiled. He didn't want the Baron to think he didn't like this, but he couldn't relax and think about anything else except for the hand in his.

Brock let him hold it until they were halfway there and then he loosened his grip and pulled away. Zemo seemed not to notice and went over to Winter and wrapped an arm around his waist.

*

An hour or so later, they turned off the suburban road into a drive lined with trees and Zemo pulled up the car outside the house. It was a large, gabled building with grey shingle and white trim like a lot of the old houses on Cape Cod. Brock thought that it was probably a lot smaller than the Baron was used to, but as for himself, he’d never lived somewhere that was anywhere near this size. 

He noticed that in addition to the steps that led up to the front door, there was an access ramp to the left side of the porch. On the deck there were window boxes filled with herbs: oregano, chives, thyme, rosemary and a colourful array of summer flowers, and Brock found himself enjoying the fragrant, earthy scent as they walked up to the house. 

Zemo stood outside the door and knocked. A man with long grey hair and a beard came to the door dressed in a pink tie dye t shirt and a pair of denim cut offs.

“Hey, man. How’s it going?”, he said.

“Good,” Zemo replied. “I am Helmut Zemo. I assume you are Jerry? Evangeline mentioned you when I spoke to her on the phone.”

The man nodded and motioned for them to follow him inside. “Oh yeah, come on in, she’s just through here.”

They followed him through the front space into the living room. It was a big room with large windows and their footsteps echoed slightly on the wooden floor. It was almost empty of furniture, apart from a record player and a console table, as well a few bookshelves.

Brock watched as Bucky walked over to the record player right away, before running his fingers lightly over the spines of a few records nearby. 

“Hello.”

They all turned to see an old woman in a wheelchair come out of the doorway that looked like it led to the kitchen. Her grey hair was pinned up in a bun and she wore a floral sundress. “You must be Helmut?”, she said, turning to Zemo with a smile. Brock noticed that she had a British accent.

“Mrs. Ipswitch?”

“Evangeline, please,” she replied, taking the Baron’s offered hand and shaking it. She gestured to the record player. “Those were my late husband’s.”

“Oh, sorry,” Winter said, looking down and taking a step away from the console.

Evangeline chuckled. “No, no. They’re for you dear.”

“For me?”, Winter asked in surprise.

“Yes, Helmut said you liked music from the 40s, so I thought you’d appreciate them. I find it easier to listen to music on Youtube these days.”

“It’s not the same,” Winter insisted.

She laughed warmly at that. “You sound like my Bernard. He wasn’t overly fond of modern technology either.”

“James is something of an old soul,” Zemo said with a smirk, and Winter shot him a look.

“And you must be Brock?”, Evangeline asked, turning to him. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” Brock said awkwardly. He wondered what the woman thought of them, if she knew who they were, or that all three of them were bonded. 

“What do you think of the house?”, she asked.

“Uh…it’s nice,” Brock said awkwardly. “Big.”

Evangeline looked around at the empty room. “Yes, it is rather. I’ve sold or given away most of the furniture, but I’m afraid I didn’t get around to clearing out the basement. Jerry’s been helping me, but there is rather a lot of it still to go.”

Zemo shook his head. “It’s not a problem, we have plenty of time on our hands.”

“Well, I’ll leave you boys to get settled in. If you want to know anything about the local area, you can call me any time.” 

Zemo took her offered hand and shook it. Brock half thought he was going to place a kiss on it, but Zemo refrained. 

“Oh, and thank you again for your generous offer, Helmut,” she said. “It means that I can afford all the renovations on the cottage I’m moving into, you know.”

“You’re most welcome. I’m glad that you were satisfied with the deal.”

“More than satisfied.”

“Thank you, Evangeline,” Zemo said. “I mean that sincerely. I hope you will enjoy your new cottage.”

“I’ll see you around, fellas,” Jerry said, before following Evangeline down to the car.

*

“Her late husband was an Omega,” Zemo said, as the car pulled out of the drive. “I mentioned that we were bonded.”

“And you’re ok just telling Betas stuff like that?”, Brock asked sceptically.

“Why not?” the Baron said, tilting his head to one side. “I’m not ashamed.”

“Of course you’re not,” Winter said, slipping his hand around the Baron’s waist. “Have you ever been ashamed of anything in your life?”

Zemo gave him a quick peck on the lips, before saying. “Not that I can recall, no.”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

Zemo smiled and took them both by the hand. “Come, let’s do a tour of the house. I want to hear what you both think of it.”

*

A little while  later, while Zemo and Rumlow were still exploring the house, Bucky went down to grab their bags out of the car. Most of their furniture would be arriving the next day, so they’d just packed a few essentials that they’d need overnight. Rumlow, however, had insisted on bringing some heavy lockbox with him despite Zemo’s assurances that rest of their belongings would arrive at the house with the movers the next day.

Bucky sighed. He’d hoped that he’d get over the awkward start to this morning, but he’d been finding it hard to be around Rumlow all day. Bucky felt like his mood  was just getting worse and worse. Zemo was right; he definitely needed to go talk to someone, see a real therapist.

Maybe if they spent more time actually talking and just hanging out like a normal…well, not a couple, but how bonded mates usually spent time together, he’d feel better. If there was such a thing as normal for them. 

He opened the trunk and picked up the black lockbox they’d brought from Brock’s apartment. It was packed pretty full, but things still shifted around inside when Bucky picked it up. Not for the first time, Bucky wondered what was inside it. Some of the items felt like they might be books, but the Rumlow he knew had never been big on reading. 

Sensing something off in his surroundings, Bucky suddenly looked up to see Rumlow coming out of the house, looking angry as he advanced towards him wearing the familiar ensemble of a black t-shirt and black cargo shorts. Bucky knew that look, it meant he’d done something wrong. Something he wasn’t allowed to do. He’d fucked up, and now he needed to be punished.

"Don't touch that, Winter!" Rumlow snapped.

"Sorry, Sir."

Winter put the box down immediately from where he’d picked it up and took a step away from the trunk. He looked back to his handler for confirmation that this was correct, but Rumlow had stopped and was staring at him.

“Win?”

“It won’t happen again, Sir.”

“Are you…are you fucking with me?”

Winter frowned. “Sir?” He glanced at the box he’d put down. He’d made sure to handle it carefully, but perhaps he hadn’t been careful enough, or done it fast enough? Was his handler worried that he’d damaged its contents?

He remained standing there as Rumlow came down the steps towards him. To his surprise his handler stepped closer to him, and reached up to cup his face. “Is it really you?” he whispered, his voice husky with emotion.

Winter blinked. “I…I don’t…” He brushed Rumlow’s hand away and stepped back. “No, this isn’t…”

“Hey, it’s ok, Win,” 

“Don’t call me that…” Bucky groaned, bending double and bracing his hands against his legs as he forced himself to take slower, deeper breaths. “I can’t do this, I need…”

“James?”, Zemo asked, turning to Rumlow. “What happened?”

Rumlow shook his head. “I dunno, he just started acting like…”

Like the Winter Soldier , Bucky thought. Like the Asset. Fuck, fuck! He needed to get out of there, get away…

“I didn’t do nothin’, I swear!”

“Give him some space.”

Bucky turned his back on the pair of them and before he knew it he was running in the direction of the woods.

*

That night, Brock curled up on an air mattress in one of the other empty rooms. Winter had returned in the evening, and they’d had some beers and eaten the takeaway pizza that Zemo had ordered. Zemo had done most of the talking, mostly about his plans for the house, while Winter joined in occasionally. It was obvious the strain it was putting on him, though, being in the room with Brock, and as soon as they’d finished Brock retreated to one of the empty bedrooms upstairs and stayed there, drinking beer and watching videos of stupid shit on his phone until he was tired enough to sleep. 

All that kept going around and around his head was the thought that he didn’t belong here, and that they didn’t want him. He didn’t want to hurt Winter just by being here. Winter couldn’t even bear to be in the same room as him. Him and Zemo would be happy here , Brock thought. They don’t need me, I’m just messing things up for them

He was seriously thinking about just calling an Uber and getting the hell out of there, when he heard a soft knock on the door.

“Brock?”

It was Zemo’s voice, and after a second  the door opened and he stepped into a patch of moonlight. The Omega came over to him wearing a dressing gown and immediately knelt down next to him where he was stretched out on some blankets on the floor. 

“What are you doing up here, Baron?”

“I wanted to come and see you,” Zemo said, placing a hand on his arm. It was probably meant to be reassuring, but Brock shrugged him off. 

“Why?”

“I didn’t like to think of you in here alone.”

“I don’t need you feeling sorry for me,” Brock snarled. “It is what it is.”

“I know, but I miss you,” Zemo said "I wish you were with us.”

“Well, Winter doesn’t want that, does he?”

Zemo sighed. “It’s difficult for him right now, yes.”

“So why don’t you go back to him? He’s probably lonely.”

“I can feel that he’s asleep,” Zemo said, lying down on the air mattress next to him. “It’s going to be alright, Brock,” he said, stroking his face. “Trust me.”

“If you’re gonna be up here, no more talking,” Brock murmured, wrapping his arm around the Omega and pulling him close. After a while, Zemo began purring and Brock felt his eyes drifting closed.

*




Chapter Text

*

Zemo sat down with his tea and opened his notebook to the list of therapist’s phone numbers he'd collected. It wasn’t as long as he’d hoped. The furniture from James’s apartment had been delivered, but they hadn’t bought a desk yet for the room upstairs that he was planning on using as his study. So in the meantime, he’d made a little office area for himself on the coffee table which would suffice.

All of the offices Zemo had managed to track down were located in or around Boston, and many of them explicitly stated that they treated A/O clients. Zemo was under no illusions about the complexity of their case, but he wasn’t going to give up until he’d found someone for them. They'd come through too much in the short time they’d been together  to give up now.

Thankfully, James had already agreed to meet with a psychiatrist recommended by Samuel called Doctor Skivorski; apparently he specialized in treating superhumans. He was currently on his way back from the city, and he’d texted to say that the meeting had gone well. Zemo was relieved. James had been worried that this therapist would be no better than Raynor, but this was a positive sign, at least. He made a mental note to ask James how the session had gone. Even if he got nowhere with finding them a relationship therapist today, hopefully James now had some form of support that wasn’t only himself or Captain America.

Zemo dialled the first phone number on his list and navigated through the automated system to join the queue of people waiting to talk to the receptionist. He listened to the sound of poor quality piano music as he waited to be put through. Rachmaninoff , Zemo thought with a sigh. Rhapsody on a Theme by Paganini. How cliché. 

He heard the sound of Brock coming downstairs and a moment later his Alpha opened the living room door. He was entirely shirtless, his muscular torso gleaming with oil and he was wearing only a pair of red swim shorts that left little to the imagination. He had a beer in one hand and a towel thrown over his shoulder, which indicated that he was probably about to head down to the beach. 

“Hey Baron, do ya wanna-”

Zemo made a shushing gesture and indicated the phone in his right hand. The music had cut off and a woman’s voice answered with, “Mount West Couples and Individual Therapy, how can I help you today?”

“Yes, hello,” Zemo said, unable to take his eyes off his Alpha as he crossed the room towards him. “I was wondering if you had any availability for new patients.”

Brock had now set his beer down on the coffee table and was standing in front of him, making it very hard for Zemo to concentrate.

“Well actually, there’s three of us. We’re bonded,” he said, glancing up at Brock who had a look on his face that said he knew exactly how distracting he was being, and he was enjoying every moment of it. 

Zemo rolled his eyes at his mate as Brock took the hand not holding the phone and placed it on his chest. Zemo bit his lip to suppress any inappropriate sounds he might make, and forced himself to pay attention to what the lady on the phone was saying.

“No, I’m perfectly serious,” Zemo replied, the disapproving tone of the woman’s voice cutting through his distraction. Zemo heard Brock growl low in his throat and gestured for him to move back. “Why would anyone joke about that? Hello?”

He sighed and set the phone down. She’d hung up on him. 

“Very unprofessional,” Zemo muttered.

“We don’t need ‘em, Baron,” Brock said. “C’mon, let’s go down to the beach. I’ll rub lotion on you.”

“As tempting as that offer is, I’d like to make some headway on this,” Zemo said reluctantly.

“Suit yourself, I guess,” Brock said with a shrug, but Zemo could tell that he was disappointed.

“I promise I’ll come down later.”

Brock nodded and picked up his beer from the table before heading out the door.

That’s another thing , Zemo thought as he crossed off the phone number. Brock’s drinking habits haven’t changed at all since we’ve been together. Zemo liked a drink himself, certainly, but he wasn’t drinking continuously throughout the day like his Alpha was. From how casual Brock was about it, he didn’t even seem to think it was anything unusual, let alone a problem. Zemo supposed that was just another in the long list of things that they would need to address.

Zemo traced his finger under the next number on the list as he typed it into his phone. He got a little further with them and this time they only hung up when it came time to give his name. Quite understandable, really.

He carried on down the list, but most of them wouldn’t take on bonded A/O patients. And those that did had long waiting lists.

Zemo eventually got through to a practice that sounded promising, but the first appointment available was in November, and they simply couldn’t wait five months.

“There’s not an earlier consultation?”, Zemo asked. “To get the process started?”

“No, I’m sorry. We’re fully booked.”

Zemo sighed. “Well, please contact me if any spaces become free.”

He actually managed to get through to one therapist herself, and she listened to his story politely. 

"Honey," she said as he finished. "You don't need a therapist. You need an exorcist."

This time it was Zemo that hung up the phone.

He set his phone down on the coffee table and took a sip of his tea. That was it. That was the whole list. He scribbled it out in frustration and rubbed his brow. Nobody had even been willing to meet them before writing them off as hopeless. But he wasn’t going to give up yet. He’d just have to look further afield until he found someone who’d take their case. Online counselling was always a possibility.

His phone vibrated and he picked it up, hoping that it was one of the practices calling him back But instead he opened his phone to see that Brock had sent him a picture of himself. He was at the beach, lying on a towel as he seductively rubbed oil onto his chest. 

 

Zemo went into the kitchen and began to prepare a little picnic for the two of them to enjoy, even though he was sure that food was currently the last thing on his mate’s mind. He turned at the sound of his phone buzzing again, rattling loudly on the island counter. He snatched it up, and saw an unknown number. Cautiously, he answered it.

"Hello?"

"Oh, hello there. Is this Mr Zemo?"

"Who's speaking?"

“This is Stephanie calling from Longbridge Therapy. You inquired about making an appointment with Doctor Musa?”

“Yes, I did. And you said that he wasn’t seeing any new patients until November.”

“That’s right, but one of our other counsellors is available, if you’re interested. The only thing is, uh, she's still currently under supervision.”

Zemo thought about this for a minute. “I’d need to know more about her.”

“Of course. I’d recommend you talk to Doctor Musa, and he can give you more information. Shall I have him give you a call when he’s free later?”

“Yes, that would be much appreciated. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, have a good day.”

Zemo hung up the phone. He tried to stop himself from getting his hopes up, but after the morning he’d had, he’d take the conversation he’d just had as a small victory.

He turned to the window when he heard a car pull up in the driveway. James had returned from his appointment. He finished packing the food into a cooler just as his mate came in.

“You make anything for me?”, James asked, coming over and sliding his arms around his waist in an easy hug.

“Only enough for Brock and I,” Zemo said, giving his mate a peck on the cheek. “But there’s some leftovers in the fridge. How was it?”

James nodded. “It was good, I think. I liked him.”

“Do you think you’ll see him again?”

“Got an appointment booked for next week.”

Zemo smiled warmly. “Good. I’m proud of you for doing this, James. I know that you’ve had unfortunate experiences with therapists in the past.”

James huffed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you can say that again.”

Zemo’s phone vibrated again and he picked it up. Once again, it was a message from his Alpha.

 

 

“Who’re you texting?”, James asked, grabbing a bowl of the chicken salad Zemo had made from the fridge.

Zemo looked up with a smirk. “Oh, just Brock. He’s at the beach. I'm going there now. Do you want to come with me?”

James shook his head. “No, I think I need to be on my own for a while.”

“Okay,” Zemo said, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly before letting his arm fall away. He could feel James’s uncertainty when he’d mentioned their mate. The two of them had barely spoken this past week. To his credit, Brock had tried to apologize, but James, quite understandably, didn’t want to hear it.  

“He doesn’t understand,” James had said to Zemo a few days ago. “He thinks it’s because he yelled at me, but it’s not. It’s that he treated me like we were back in HYDRA, and I don’t want that. It just makes everything worse. I don’t think he knows how not to do that when he’s around me.”

The problem was that it left them in the situation they found themselves in now,  where they didn’t know how to move forward, and Zemo was put in the position of having to play go-between. 

“What’ve you been doing today?”, James asked, interrupting Zemo’s train of thought.

“Calling therapists,” he replied wearily. “I had no luck with most of them, though one is supposed to call me later to recommend someone else.”

“Well that’s good, right?”

“I suppose we'll see."

*

Zemo took the path down to their little beach and walked over to where Brock was laying on the sand. The oil coating his body highlighted his muscles beautifully as they gleamed in the sun. 

The Alpha smirked at him and tilted his sunglasses down to look at him. “Took you long enough.”

"I'm not a waitress, Brock."

"You brought lunch though, right?"

"Yes," Zemo said, setting the cooler down and spreading out the blanket he’d brought, before sitting down on it. Brock quickly pounced on top of him and immediately began nuzzling his neck.

“I thought you were hungry?”, Zemo said teasingly as the Alpha began licking his scent glands.

“Hungry for you,” his mate said with a grin.

"Oh really?", Zemo laughed breathlessly as Brock unbuttoned his shirt and began kissing his chest. "I'd never have guessed.”

"Your freckles are cute," Brock said. "Need to get you out in the sun more, Baron."

"Well, if this is what I can look forward to during our outings to the beach, I'm certainly not complaining," Zemo said as Brock backed up to give him a kiss on the lips. His mate sucked his bottom lip before plunging his tongue into his mouth. 

Zemo hummed happily, feeling the weight of his Alpha's hard, muscular body pinning him back onto the sand. But he couldn’t keep his mind from wandering to James, imagining that he was also there with them, kissing him and stroking him, caressing Brock and kissing him in turn. He missed all of them being together like they had been at the start, though he had to admit that even that hadn’t always been easy. 

Brock pulled back, looking at him “You good?”

“Mmm…yes, it’s nothing. Just a little preoccupied.

“With what?”

“I was just thinking that James should be here.”

Brock huffed and moved off him to lie at his side. 

“He back from therapy?”, he asked.

Zemo nodded. “Yes, I just saw him up at the house.”

Rumlow was silent for a moment and then he reached into the cooler bag and began rummaging through it. “It help him?”, he asked, pulling out a sandwich and unwrapping it.

“I think so,” Zemo said. “He said that he liked the therapist and that he’s got another appointment booked for next week.”

Brock huffed again and took a bite of one of the chicken wraps that Zemo had made. “You think he’s gonna speak to me now?”

Zemo sighed and sat up. “I don’t know.”

“Because if he can’t even be in the same room as me, I don’t think there’s much point in me being here.”

“We’ve been over this, Brock. He does want you here. We both do, really.”

“I know you do, Baron,” Brock said. “Just…not so sure it’s good for Winter, me being here.”

“I understand what you’re saying, but I truly believe that the two of you can work this out. Though, it will likely be very difficult for you both.” Zemo reached up to brush a stray strand of hair out of Brock’s face. “He loves you, you know that?”

Brock looked down, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah, well, I guess if he’s got someone to talk to it means you don’t need to find a therapist no more.”

“What?”, Zemo said in surprise. “No, we still need to go to therapy together.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because you and James are barely speaking.”

“Not my fault if he doesn’t wanna talk to me.”

Zemo sighed. “I’m not arguing with you about this. We’re going to therapy.”

“Don’t want some shrink getting in my head,” Brock growled. “Telling me that all my Alpha stuff is messed up.”

“We’re not going to someone like that,” Zemo said seriously. “I promise.”

Brock frowned and took another bite of his chicken wrap. “Don’t wanna talk about it no more.”

Zemo nodded. “Okay, fine.”

They both ate in silence for a moment, and Zemo felt himself beginning to relax despite the tense conversation they’d just had. The sun was warming his skin, and the sound of waves were lapping on the shore. He had two mates, and even if things weren’t perfect between them, things were better for him than they had been in so many years. 

“Maybe I could help you unpack later?”, he suggested. “It might help you feel a little more settled.”

Brock shook his head. “Nah, I’m good.”

“I thought you liked the bedroom next to ours?”

Brock shrugged. “It’s alright, I guess. I wish it was more…”

“What?”

“I dunno. It’s kind of far from the front door. I need to know if someone’s sneaking around.”

“Hmm…I see. Well, I’m sure we can think of something.”

Having finished his food, Brock pounced on him again. 

“You’re always talkin’ about your plans, Baron. Maybe you should just lay back and relax,” Brock said, his hands unfastening the button of his shorts. “Just take it easy.”

“As you say,” Zemo sighed, pressing his hips up for attention. 

Brock slid his shorts down and buried his head between Zemo's legs with a growl. Zemo sighed and let his head rest back against the sand. This was so much easier than talking. It just worked between them, even if not much else did yet. He felt himself melting into the feeling of his Alpha’s lips and tongue, the scratch of his stubble against his thighs. 

“Mine,” Brock murmured against his skin.

“Yours, moj tigric ,” Zemo said, winding his fingers into his lover’s dark hair. “I’m yours.”

He gasped as he felt his Alpha’s lips and tongue tease his hole. He was already getting slick for him, and he’d only just started working him open. Zemo brought one hand to his cock and began stroking himself in time with his Alpha’s attentive licks. 

“Mmm, you taste good,” Rumlow growled, looking up at him with dark, glassy eyes. “Wanna fuck you.”

“Good things come to those who wait,” Zemo said, a playful smirk on his face as he stroked his cock. He was already getting close, as his mate devoured his ass like he was the most delicious thing in the world. He gasped at the loss when Brock pulled away and knelt up, positioning himself between his legs. But before he could beg, his Alpha thrust into him and Zemo’s orgasm crashed over him, his cock twitching as he spilled himself between them.

“Fuck, did you just come from my cock that quickly?”, Rumlow said in disbelief.

“Yes,” Zemo panted, the sound changing to a groan as he felt Brock thrust even deeper into him. “Please give it to me, Alpha. I want it.”

His mate grinned, repositioning himself so that he was lying on top of him. “Gonna make you come again before I’m done with you, Baron.”

Zemo thrust up against him, wrapping his legs around the Alpha’s hips as Brock fucked him, his mate’s well-defined muscles tightening with the effort. It wasn’t long before Zemo felt his cock stiffening once more, and he thrust up against Brock, chasing the friction between their bodies.

“Fuck, you’re insatiable aren’t you?”, Brock panted. “You’re not even in heat.”

“Are you complaining?”, Zemo said with a smirk.

“Nah, just means I’ve got even more reason to make sure I fuck you good.”

And he did, until Zemo felt himself coming again between their bodies, and his Alpha’s body shuddered as he came inside him, filling him up. 

Zemo felt the knot expanding inside him, and he let out a little whine as it stretched him to reach its full size. 

“Not too much for you, babe?”, Brock asking, nipping at the scent gland on Zemo’s neck. 

“Ahh…just, let me get used to it,” Zemo gasped. “You feel bigger…”

“Huh?”

“You’re not in rut, but it feels big like that…ah!”

Brock had thrust forward slightly and the movement nearly made Zemo black out with how overwhelming it felt. 

“Oh fuck, yeah, you’re right,” Brock moaned. “Okay, just keep still.”

“You can be sure of that,” Zemo panted, willing his body to relax into the feeling. He took a deep breath in, inhaling his Alpha’s smokey, intoxicating scent and felt himself opening up even more for him. 

“That good?”, Brock murmured, kissing along his jaw as he pinned Zemo’s arms above his head.

“Mmm…yes,” Zemo said, feeling himself becoming heavy, pleasure-sated with the afterglow of his orgasm. He felt so close to his mate when Brock held him like this. He swallowed, realizing that his throat was dry from thirst and tried to reach for a bottle of water. He frowned, realizing that he couldn’t move because Brock’s hands were around his wrists.

“Brock, I need to get a drink.”

“Just wait a minute, okay?”

“I can reach it, it’s right there…”

“No! Don’t move your arms!” Rumlow growled in alarm suddenly, tightening his grip.

“Okay,” Zemo said soothingly, alarmed at how fast his mate’s heart rate was suddenly beating. “I won’t. I promise.”

Brock didn’t reply, and after a few moments Zemo wondered if his mate was thinking of the time before they’d bonded when they’d fought, and he’d hurt Brock by pulling against his knot. 

“Is it because I hurt you before?”, Zemo asked.

Brock shook his head, avoiding his gaze.

“What then?”

“Just…felt like you were gonna do something.”

“I swear to you that I won’t.”

Brock growled and buried his head against Zemo’s neck, nuzzling against him.

“What can I do to make this better?”, Zemo said gently.

“Nothin’. Just keep still when we’re knotted.”

Zemo sighed. “I’ll try my best.”

Zemo tried to feel through the bond to what his mate was feeling, but there was a curtain of static obscuring the connection between them. He could feel his mate’s breath against his neck, the weight and heat of his body on top of him and his rapid heartbeat becoming calm again, his rich, Alpha musk…and yet he couldn’t feel what was wrong. It was frustrating, not to know what his mate was feeling, when he knew that he should be able to. 

He’d been doing some research into bonding, and he’d come to suspect that their bond really wasn’t very strong. It had definitely gotten stronger since they’d first bonded, but compared to his bond with James it was still very weak and he couldn’t rely on it to give him an accurate impression of what Brock was thinking or feeling. But the reason as to why it wasn’t strong when they’d been together a lot and were doing all the things that typically helped improve bonds, was eluding him.

Gradually, he felt his mate’s knot deflating inside him and Brock was eventually able to pull out with a contented sigh. He rolled over and lay next to Zemo, who was finally able to take a drink of water for himself. Obviously, his mate’s reaction to him trying to move was some kind of trauma response, but the cause of it was currently unknown. 

But now he was just trying to problem-solve, when his mate was lying happy and sated next to him. He turned away from him and snuggled back against him to let Brock spoon him. Now that he was beginning to relax again, Zemo felt the warm vibration of a purr rising in his chest. He was happy being held in his mate’s arms, but it made him feel strangely lonely that Brock wasn’t purring in response. Was he not feeling the same way?

“Brock?”, Zemo asked cautiously. 

“Mmhm?”

“Why don’t you purr?”

Zemo felt Brock shrug. “I dunno. I just don’t.”

“Are you not happy with me?”

“What? Course I am. Don’t need to purr to prove that, do I?”

“Well, you’re an Alpha,” Zemo said. “It should just happen naturally. It’s not something you can force.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Brock huffed. 

“Have you ever purred?"

Brock was silent for a minute before he said, “I think so.”

“You’re not sure?”, Zemo asked in surprise.

“It’s kind of hard to tell. Didn’t sound like how yours does.”

“But you’re happy? You like my purring?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of nice. Relaxing.”

Zemo smiled. “Good. I’m glad.”

To his surprise, he felt James was suddenly nearby and sat up to see his other mate running across the sand towards them.

“James?”, Zemo asked when he drew near. 

“What’s going on?”, James panted. He was wearing only a pair of shorts and his hair was wet. “I was taking a shower…I felt something in the bond.”

“We’re fine. There was just a little…ah, unexpected knot swelling.”

Zemo knew that James was thinking of the last time he’d run over and walked in on them like this. He made as if to stand up, but James shook his head. “No…I’m just gonna go back. Like I said, kinda need to be on my own.”

Zemo nodded. “That’s quite understandable.”

He turned to look back at Brock who was tracing patterns in the sand and avoiding looking at James.

“So you’re both good?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Ok.”

At that moment, Zemo’s phone rang and he picked it up.

“Hello, who is this please?”, he asked.

“Hello, this is Doctor Musa calling from Longbridge Therapy, is this Mr. Zemo?”

“Yes, speaking.”

“Pleased to meet you. Are you somewhere that you can talk?”

Zemo glanced at his two mates who were looking at him with curiosity.

“Yes,” Zemo said, getting up. He held his hand over the receiver before saying to them both. “Just a moment, I’ll return shortly.”

He began walking towards the sea, putting some distance between himself and his mates so that he could concentrate.

“I can recommend Doctor Thorne,” the Doctor on the line said . “She is one of the counselors under my supervision. However, I understand that you might prefer a fully qualified psychiatrist, given the complex nature of your case.”

“Can you tell me more about their qualifications?”

“Her doctorate was on A/O bonding and Alpha pack structure,” The doctor said, “And she’s been at our practice for several years while completing her psychiatric training. You’d definitely be in good hands, but it’s about whether you feel that Doctor Thorne would be the right fit for you.”

“I think I’d like to talk to her directly about this.”

“Of course.”

*

As Zemo walked towards the sea, Bucky watched him go. He glanced back at Rumlow, who had laid back on the blanket and put his sunglasses on. 

Should I head back to the house, or wait for Zemo?, he thought. He knew it was important they work through this…thing between the two of them, but he didn’t know how to be around Rumlow right now. 

“So…how’re you?”, Bucky said awkwardly when it became clear that Rumlow wasn’t going to say anything. 

“Ok, I guess,” the Alpha said, not looking at him.

“Great.”

There was an uncomfortable silence where neither of them spoke, full of all of the things left unsaid between them. Bucky ran his fingers through his hair anxiously. He could feel himself starting to get stressed out and he knew that he needed to leave. 

“I’m just gonna go back to the house,” he said quickly. “Tell Zemo, ok?”

“Uh huh.”

Bucky turned and began walking back up the beach. He inhaled shakily, feeling his hands trembling. How were they supposed to have a relationship when he couldn’t even talk to him?

He walked up to the house and went upstairs to the bedroom that he shared with Zemo. He went to the closet and pulled on a blue t-shirt. All of Zemo’s clothes were organized and neatly arranged by color. His own…not so much. It was stupid, but it made the twist of anxiety in his chest ease up a little just to see their clothes side-by-side. Zemo was really trying here, and Bucky…

Bucky sighed and lay down on his back on the bed. I want to be with Rumlow. That’s what I’ve wanted ever since we bonded. I think. I still don’t remember that, but I always wanted to be with him in HYDRA, and didn’t understand why we couldn’t be together. 

He thought back again to how it had been with Steve in Wakanda. That’s what he’d always wanted, back when he’d been a cocky kid from Brooklyn: to be with Steve. 

Lying in bed, and wishing that Steve’s scent was different; richer, smokier, more like his Alpha’s. Maybe then they could bond. Four years, and he’d never been away from his mate for so long. But Rumlow had hurt him, betrayed him, helped Hydra keep him prisoner for decades. Bucky knew that he needed to forget about him, because he shouldn’t ache for him like he did. He told himself that he should just try to pretend that all of it had happened to someone else. Not to him, not to the person he was trying to be now. 

Bucky remembered Steve stroking his cheek, looking at him with those big blue eyes. “I’m gonna help you get better, and it’s gonna happen for us, Buck. Just like we always wanted.”

He’d clung to Steve like an anchor because he was something real and familiar when everything else was still so unknown and he barely knew who he was. 

It’s not the same thing , Bucky thought. I know who I am now. Mostly. But just because I used to want Rumlow in HYDRA, does that mean that I still want him now? 

Yes.

Is being with him extremely difficult because of our past? 

Also yes. 

Maybe I just need some space from him. Maybe it’s too much for me. I don’t know.

But…he’s Zemo’s mate too, and Rumlow obviously wants to be with him. They seem so happy together, and I’m ruining that. 

“They deserve to be happy,” Bucky murmured to himself.

Maybe I should be the one to leave. 

No, no one has to leave. We can make this work.

Right?

*

Chapter Text

*

Dear Dr. Alice Thorne,

As requested, I have included a brief summary of how I met my two mates, the circumstances of our bonding, how I would characterize my relationship with my bondmates, what led us to coming to therapy and what I hope to gain from these sessions. I have attempted to keep it brief.

As you may or may not already be aware, I met James Buchanan Barnes while attempting to frame him for an act of terrorism I perpetrated, following the death of my family. We were never in close proximity to one another and I was on heat suppressants so there was no possibility of bonding during that time. During the mission to stop Karli Morgenthau and the super soldier terrorist group known as ‘The Flag Smashers’, James and I began a sexual relationship and later bonded.

I met Brock Rumlow when I was experiencing a very intense heat. James was concerned for my well being, and knowing that Brock was an Alpha who knots very easily, brought me to him with my consent. At the time, I did not know that there was a prior bond between the two of them. During this heat, Brock went into rut and we bonded, likely as a result of the bond that already existed between him and James. 

The bond between us solidified into a tribond several days later.

I would characterize the relationship between myself and James as loving and affectionate. Our bond is strong, and I would do anything to ensure his happiness. I have a good relationship with Brock, though I would have to admit that our relationship is mostly sexual. However, my bond with him is still weak and I’m unsure of the reason(s) for that. 

It was my idea that the three of us go to therapy together, because there have been many problems between Brock and James since we decided to move in together. As we discussed previously over the phone, they both have a lot of trauma from being in the terrorist organization HYDRA for many decades. Brock’s presence seems to be exacerbating James’s PTSD symptoms, and he is finding it hard to be around him. Although, James has started seeing an individual therapist as well, which he says is helping. 

I hope that therapy will help James and Brock repair their relationship, and let us become closer as bonded mates. 

If you require any more information, do let me know.

Yours sincerely,

Baron Helmut Zemo.

*

To Dr. Alice Thorne,

My full name is James Buchanan Barnes, but I prefer Bucky or James. You probably know me as the Winter Soldier.

I don't remember when I first met Brock, but it was most likely in the early 90s not long after I got handed over by the Russians to the American branch of HYDRA. Brock recently told me that the HYDRA technicians injected me with Omega hormones, and I remember him and the other Alphas fighting in front of me. I also remember them separating me and Brock soon after we bonded, but not much apart from that. I remember feeling happy that he was my mate as well as my new handler.

I first met Zemo after he framed me as part of his revenge against the Avengers. I met him again when I was on a mission with him and Sam Wilson, and we needed to work together. We started sleeping together as a way to relieve stress, but we both quickly realized that it was more than that. In short, I told the authorities that we'd bonded and he moved back to the states with me. He's the first Omega I've ever been with, so it's been a lot to get used to. It's been really good between us, though. Our bond is really strong and now I know what it's like to have a bond that is reciprocated.

I saw Brock again when Zemo went into a heat that was too much for me to handle. I asked Brock to help Zemo and he agreed. After that conversation we slept together. I didn't know at the time, but Brock had taken a drug that triggered his rut to make it more likely that he would bond with Zemo. When Zemo recovered, we brought Brock back to my apartment and soon after that we formed a tribond. Since then, Brock has moved with us into a new place. 

Our bond isn’t great, and we’ve obviously got a lot of history together that’s difficult for us to deal with, but I want to try and make it work. I think that I’d like to get to a place where I can talk about things with Brock, because right now it’s really hard for me to be around him.

I know that's a lot, but thanks for taking the time to help us.

Regards, 

Bucky Barnes.

*

To Dr Thorne

The Baron said I have to write an email to you so thats why I’m sending this

How did you meet your mate(s) and bond with them?:

I met Winter in 1991 and I signed up to bond with him cause I wanted to get promoted to Commander and Pierce said I would if I was his handler. After we bonded he was always trying to get my atention so I had to order him not to. Pierce said that I was only allowed to give him atenttion after a mission as a reward and I was only alowed to mate with him after they got him out of cryo but we didnt always follow the rules. 

I met Zemo two months ago. Winter showed up at my door and said he neded me to mate with his omega because they hadnt bonded yet so he couldnt help him I said ok and we fucked and then after he left I got realy mad about it. I wanted to fuck things up betwen them so I shot a load of hormons to go into rut and make Zemo bond with me. I dont remember much but Winter was mad at me when he realized and took Zemo home. I could tell they bonded because I had loads of voices and realy weird loud stuff in my head. I got drunk and then they locked me in there basement because they had to go get theyre bond tested. We fucked when they came back and then the voices werent so loud then a week later they asked me to move in with them.

How would you characterize your relationship with your bondmate(s)?: 

I dont know how Winter feels about me. I like being with the Baron alot and I think he likes it to so thats good

What led you to coming to therapy?:

The Baron said we should go to therapy because Winter is mad at me and wont talk to me feels like Im just making everything worse by being with him. 

What do you hope to gain from these sessions?:

I want to fix whats going on with me and Winter. 

From Brock Rumlow

*

Chapter Text

*

Alice set her thermos of tea aside and took a moment to stretch out a crick in her neck before checking the new emails in her inbox. She opened a new document and began making notes. Her supervisor Anthony was right. She might be in over her head. Still, she did like a challenge. After the call with Helmut, it seemed like he and his mates were willing to try anything. Of course, she was aware of who they all were, and she was aware that this needed to be kept - well, even more confidential than usual, for all their sakes. If she was going to try and help them, then trust was going to be of the utmost importance. 

And despite her natural hesitancy, she knew that she was more qualified than most when it came to bonded relationships. For one thing, most psychologists who specialized in the area were unbonded Betas - or, as they thought of themselves, ‘normal’. And Alice may have been a Beta, but she’d been happily bonded to her Alpha partner Jia since the age of eighteen, and she knew that gave her a certain valuable insight into A/O relationships.

She scrolled through the email. Helmut said a lot, while at the same time saying very little. 

James and I began a sexual relationship and later bonded.

He did not explain how he had gone from framing James, to beginning a relationship. However, James included a little more detail:

We started sleeping together as a way to relieve stress, but we both quickly realized that it was more than that. In short, I told the authorities that we'd bonded and he moved back to the states with me. 

Both of them seemed to be on the same page about how their relationship had started, but James seemed to be implying that they’d bonded during the mission, while Zemo ambiguously said that they’d bonded ‘later’. Maybe she was reading too much into it…but at the same time, it seemed strange that Helmut was being evasive about exactly when they’d bonded. 

She sat back in her chair and took a sip of her tea. Her phone vibrated on the desk in front of her, and she opened the message that Jia had sent her. It was of a painting in pastel colours. A surreal tableau including a nude, sunburnt woman next to a swimming pool. She was drawing a pentagram on the tile. A burning house with a dark figure emerged from the doorway and a man on a floating patio obliviously watered the lawn with a hose. 

Finished the new canvas :)

Looks amazing! Looking forward to seeing it when I get home xxx

Alice smiled, and set her phone down and turned back to the email.

I met Zemo two months ago. Winter showed up at my door and said he neded me to mate with his omega because they hadnt bonded yet so he couldnt help him 

From what had Brock written, it seemed like Helmut and James hadn’t bonded until sometime after Helmut had been brought to the states. Which logically meant that they’d both lied to the authorities about the status of their bond. Alice sighed. It wasn’t surprising, given the history of these men. She just couldn’t believe they’d gone through with it. They really must have been desperate to bond, perhaps sensing that they were compatible. 

It seemed like their bond was stable now, as both James and Helmut talked about it positively. Though, James did express some feelings of overwhelm about Helmut being an Omega, which was understandable for a Beta.

So, while their relationship seemed mostly good, it seemed that Brock and Helmut’s relationship was somewhat more mixed. Helmut described it as ‘good’ but ‘mostly sexual’, which made her wonder whether they were still in the honeymoon phase of their bond. It was likely that their relationship hadn’t yet moved beyond that, since they’d only met two months ago.

But it was concerning that, despite this, Helmut described the bond as ‘weak’. She definitely needed more information about that, and she made a note to bring that up during their initial session. 

As Alice read on, looking over how they had met, she began to make more notes. It seemed that James had lied about not having any prior bonds, and then brought Helmut to his other mate without informing him. Though, how Helmut felt about that breach of trust, he didn’t say. 

I asked Brock to help Zemo and he agreed. After that conversation we slept together.

Zemo hadn’t mentioned that, and Alice was concerned that he didn’t know. Brock’s account also corroborated what James had said. It was also clear that Brock had taken something to trigger a rut, which worried Alice from both an interpersonal and legal perspective. But, well, at least Brock and James had been honest about that. It was unclear if Zemo knew, or if he was deliberately omitting information from his account. He seemed to suggest that he thought he’d bonded with Brock because of the Alpha’s prior bond with James, and though that may have been a contributing factor, the hard truth was the hormones Brock had taken were almost certainly the real catalyst.

Looking at the bond between the three of them more generally, what was of the most concern to her - and, thankfully, it seemed, also to the trio themselves - was the relationship between Brock and James.

Brock was very forthright in framing his bonding with Winter as a promotion opportunity, without a word of his feelings for his mate. Perhaps that was an important point: Brock hadn’t been able to talk about how he felt for Winter back then. It was unclear whether he had wanted Winter’s attention, or if he was forced to reject it because of the situation they’d both been in. HYDRA had clearly controlled their sexuality, their bonding behaviour, everything about their relationship that they could.

Alice wondered how responsible Brock felt for his complicity in keeping Winter there. She knew from the files that within HYDRA there had been an Alpha pack structure, with Alexander Pierce at the top as Pack Leader. A structure like that would certainly have made it easy for them to control Alphas lower in the pack hierarchy. 

Brock recently told me that the HYDRA technicians injected me with Omega hormones, and I remember him and the other Alphas fighting in front of me. I also remember them separating me and Brock soon after we bonded, but not much apart from that. I remember feeling happy that he was my mate as well as my new handler.

It was still shocking sometimes to hear of the extreme measures that HYDRA had gone to to force bonds talked about so matter of factly. There would have had to be compatibility on a basic, biological level, but everything else that went into forging a bond had been forced. And then separating newly bonded mates so that they couldn’t spend time strengthening their bond…she shivered at the thought. It was terrible, and pointlessly cruel.

 And despite that, Bucky still described himself as feeling happy that he’d bonded, and in the present described wanting to make the relationship work. It was extraordinary.

At least Bucky’s goal of wanting to be able to communicate with Brock seemed realistic. 

Brock seemed to feel confusion about his mate, not knowing how he was feeling and believing that Bucky was angry with him because he wouldn’t talk to him. Unfortunately, his goal to ‘fix’ their relationship would probably be a lot harder to achieve.

She agreed with Helmut. They both seemed to have a lot of trauma related to being in HYDRA. Luckily, she was familiar with the HYDRA files and had studied the Alpha pack structure in depth as part of her doctorate. It wasn’t surprising that Bucky was experiencing PTSD symptoms around Brock.

I could tell they bonded because I had loads of voices and realy weird loud stuff in my head. I got drunk and then they locked me in there basement because they had to go get theyre bond tested. We fucked when they came back and then the voices werent so loud then a week later they asked me to move in with them

So Zemo and James had managed to bond prior to the bond testing, it seemed. And then afterwards they’d formed a tribond with Brock. Why they had locked him in the basement though, she couldn’t guess. 

Given the difficulties apparent in their early relationship, she was surprised that they’d chosen to move in together. But on the other hand, she saw a lot of couples who’d made commitments as a way to overcome obstacles in their relationship and then found that things weren’t as simple as that. 

*

"Brock, for the last time, no smoking with the window closed!", Zemo snapped. 

“You smoke too, Baron,” Brock grumbled. 

Zemo sniffed. The Alpha smelled agitated and the metallic scent of the rut suppressants he’d just taken tinged his usual scent. 

“Not inside I don’t.”

“Like it makes a difference.”

“I don’t want the smell getting into the upholstery.”

“The seats are leather , how’s that supposed to happen?”

“Please be quiet!”, Zemo said in frustration. “You’re distracting me from driving.”

Brock was silent for a moment as he wound the window down. 

“Why’re you driving so fast?”, he asked. 

“This isn’t fast, I just want to be there on time,” Zemo said, glancing in the mirror to meet the eyes of his unhappy Alpha glaring at him from the back seat. “You made us late enough as it was.”

Brock had spent a long time in the shower that morning, before suddenly disappearing for over an hour. They’d eventually found him hiding down in the basement rifling through some of the boxes of old junk, and then they hadn’t had long before they’d had to hurry out the door.

“Why were you down in the basement, anyway?”, James asked from the passenger seat.

“None of your business, Winter,” Brock snapped.

James turned back to the front and there was an awkward silence. 

“Fuck. I’m sorry, ok?” Brock said quickly. He exhaled a cloud of smoke out the window. “Jesus…”

“And this is why we’re going to therapy,” Zemo said firmly. 

“I said I’d go,” Brock grumbled. “I didn’t say I’d be happy about it.”

*

Brock sat in the waiting room, fidgeting with his hands to stop himself picking at the scars on his cheek. He shot a glance at Winter who was sitting next to him with his hands resting in his lap staring into space. To anyone else, he’d look relaxed, but years in the Winter Soldier’s presence told Brock that his mate was alert and completely aware of his surroundings. He doesn’t feel safe , Brock thought. A twinge of guilt, and longing for his mate tugged at him. He wanted to make it better, more than anything, but just being here with him seemed to be making it worse. 

This is a waste of time , Brock thought, and not for the first time. Nothing good’s gonna come out of this. Too much blood under the bridge, as Jack would’ve said. Nothing I can do to make it right between us. 

Zemo returned from filling out some forms at the desk and took a seat next to him. “We shouldn’t have to wait much longer,” he said, squeezing Brock’s leg. 

Brock nodded silently in acknowledgment, and glanced out of the office window into the parking lot. There was still time. He could just get up and walk out of there right now, save everyone the time and trouble. 

A girl with glasses and long, red hair eventually approached them. “Hello, I’m Doctor Thorne. I believe you gentlemen have an appointment with me?”

She spoke with a British accent and couldn’t have been older than her early thirties. She was tall and dressed in a navy blue blazer, a zebra print blouse and a pair of green high waisted trousers. 

Our therapist’s a kid who’s in way over her head, Brock thought. Fucking fantastic. As if this whole thing wasn’t already a joke.

The Baron stood up to shake her hand courteously and Brock watched as Winter got up to follow the two of them. Brock sighed and stood up reluctantly. At least he didn’t have to worry about a kid like her getting in his head. 

They followed her down the corridor and into an office and she closed the door behind them. Brock looked around, scanning the layout and possible entrance and exit points. There were certificates on the walls and a desk in front of a window that looked down onto the tree lined park. The room was softly lit, and there was a large, fluffy rug on the wooden floor. Against the other wall was a large, comfortable looking couch with an armchair in front of it. There was a bowl of Hershey’s kisses on the table next to the couch, as well as some pillows and blankets neatly folded in a wicker basket.

She smells like an Omega , Brock noticed, as he walked past her to the couch. From the look of surprise on Zemo’s face, he’d apparently picked it up too. But no, it wasn’t exactly Omega. More like the way a Beta bonded to an Alpha smelled, maybe. 

“Please, take a seat,” she said, gesturing to the couch. Zemo took a seat in the middle, James to his right and Brock to his left. There was more than enough room for all of them, but Brock kept to one side and crossed his arms. 

The shrink took a seat opposite them in the armchair. “I’m Doctor Thorne, but you can call me Alice. As Doctor Musa told you, I specialize in A/O relationships, and I don’t mind disclosing that I’m bonded to an Alpha myself.”

Brock caught Zemo’s eye, and realized that he’d been thinking the same thing.

Alice glanced down at her notes. “As this is your first session with me, I should inform you that I’m required to inform my supervisor if you say anything which indicates that you are intending to harm yourself or others. However, anything you say in these sessions, including past illegal activity, is something which I am not at liberty to share, and will be kept completely confidential.”

The three of them nodded, and Zemo said. “Yes, we understand.”

Brock felt slightly relieved, knowing that she wasn’t planning on telling anyone any of their business. It was hard for him to trust anyone, but he’d give it a shot if it was going to help Winter talk to him.

“I was wondering how I should refer to you,” Alice went on. “You all used different names in your emails.”

“Helmut is fine. Zemo is also acceptable,” Zemo replied.

“Yeah, Bucky or James,” Winter replied.

“Brock.”

Alice nodded thoughtfully. “I notice that you call each other by nicknames as well,” She looked up, and Brock was taken aback by her piercing green eyes. “You call your mates ‘the Baron’ and ‘Winter’, Brock?”

Brock stared back at her. “Yeah, so?”

She smiled. “Well, I was wondering if those names will be used in these sessions. If your mates are happy for you to use those names in this space?”, she asked, turning her attention to Brock and Zemo.

Zemo shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t particularly mind what he calls me.”

“And you, James?”

Winter was silent for a moment, and Brock couldn’t bring himself to look at him. 

“I don’t know,” he said eventually. “It’s complicated. Bucky is…easier.”

Alice turned her attention back to Brock. “Would you agree to refer to him that way for our sessions together?”

Brock felt his heart sink, but managed to say, “Yeah, I guess. If that’s what he wants.”

“Perhaps this is a good place to start,” Alice said. “But please know that I’m happy to take this session in any direction you choose. This is your time.”

Bucky was the first to speak. “Ok, sure. It’s complicated because I used to like it. Back then it was…special, I guess. But now I know he just called me that because he didn’t know my real name. And hearing it kind of puts me back in that headspace, of being in HYDRA which is…not great.”

“You called me ‘Bones’ sometimes,” Brock interrupted. “That’s what the other guys on the STRIKE team used to call me.”

“Yeah, when you weren’t making me call you ‘Sir’!” Winter snapped.

“Never asked you to call me ‘Bones’, you just started doing it.”

Winter scoffed. “Oh yeah, like that makes it any better.”

“Okay, Brock. I don’t think you’re really listening to what Bucky is saying,” Alice said calmly, before Brock could retort. 

“I’m listening,” Brock grunted. “Came here, didn’t I?”

“That’s right. You’re here,” Alice said. “And you’re trying to understand your mates. So when Bucky says that name makes him feel like he’s back in HYDRA, what do you take that to mean?”

“I’m not stupid, I know it was fucking awful for him. I don’t wanna make Win- Bucky think about that stuff, but that was my name for him.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Bucky said, turning to look at Brock for the first time. “That’s kind of the problem.”

“Nah, I mean that it was this thing we shared. No one else called you that, just me. It meant that I could treat you nice and look after you ‘n stuff.”

“But you didn’t,” Winter said, clenching his jaw.

Brock stiffened in his seat. I did , he thought defiantly. I took care of you and looked after you every day. I tried to protect you. You just don’t remember. 

Unable to say any of this, Brock shrugged and looked away.

“Can we talk about something else?”, Bucky said, looking back at Alice.

“Whatever you like,” Alice said, making a note in her book. She glanced briefly over the notes she’d made as talking point suggestions, and quickly dashed a line through them.

Bet we’re more of a handful than she was expecting , Brock thought. Bet she’s gonna drop us after this session. 

“Great. Because there’s stuff I keep thinking about. Things I need to know.”

“What do you wanna know?”, Brock asked reluctantly.

“About you and Steve.”

Rumlow crossed his arms and sank back in his seat. “Oh boy.”

“You got a problem with that?”

Rumlow shrugged. “Just don’t see why you’d want to.”

“Because I need to know.”

“Fine, if it’ll make you feel better then go ahead.”

“Are you sure that you’re ok with that, Brock?”, Alice asked. 

“Yeah, ‘s fine. Just don’t wanna upset him.”

Bucky took a deep breath in through his nose and out through his mouth before saying, “Did you say you slept together just to hurt me, or were you telling the truth?"

Rumlow could see how upset Winter was, but instead of reaching out for him he tried to think back to remember what he’d even said. He’d thrown it in Winter’s face that he’d fucked Steve, so he guessed that’s what Winter meant.

“Yeah, it’s true,” he admitted reluctantly, “I wasn’t lying.”

Bucky nodded, and was silent for a long minute before he said. “That all you’re gonna say?”

“Can I just clarify-” Zemo sat forward, one finger raised. “Is this Steve Rogers you’re talking about?”

“Yes.” Bucky said sharply. “My best friend. My lover.”

The four sat in silence for a moment, Brock glaring out of the window.

“Maybe it would be helpful to ask Brock what you want to know?” Alice suggested.

“Yeah, ok. I can do that,” Winter said. “I wanna know - did you just fuck him the one time, or was it more than that?”

Brock hesitated, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. Winter was gonna hate him for this…but he wanted to know the truth. And Brock owed him that, at least.

“It was more than that,” he said quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we did it more than once. We were kind of…I dunno. It was complicated.”

“What, boyfriends? How does that work, when you’re both Alphas?”

“What, two Alphas can’t have a good time together?”, Brock snapped.

“Yeah, but the two of you…” Winter- no, Bucky shook his head. “I just don’t get it. He doesn’t seem like your type.”

“What do you know about my type?”

Winter shrugged. “Guess I don’t.”

“He wasn’t my boyfriend,” Brock said after a minute. “He was just hot. I dunno. I used to have a picture of him up on my wall as a kid, like half of America. I wasn’t gonna pass that up.”

“So you just did it so you could say you fucked Captain America?”

“Nah, it wasn’t like that. Steve would’ve hated me bragging about that, and I don’t do that shit anyway.”

“But you’d know.”

“Right, but that wasn’t the point. I didn’t plan it or nothing, it just kind of…happened.” 

“How did it happen?”

Rumlow ran his hand through his hair, trying to keep his leg from jittering.

“This ain’t gonna make you feel any better.”

“Tell me.”

“Fine. We were sparring in the training room at SHIELD headquarters. Pretty much everyone else had gone home. I was gonna go too, but Cap kept saying stuff like “C’mon let's go another round. I’m not tired,” and I thought, ‘Yeah, because you’re a super soldier.’ But I realized after a while that he just wanted to stay because he didn’t wanna go home. And it made him seem kind of…normal. Like, I grew up idolizing him and then when I met him he was just…some guy. This Alpha who was even more lonely than me, because at least I had you and Jack.”

“You didn’t have me, not really.”

“Right, but you know what I mean.”

Winter ignored this, and instead asked. “So, what, you asked him back to your place or something?”

“Do you really wanna know this?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Fine, whatever. So he was pinning me down and telling me to submit and I…I knotted for him.”

Bucky stared at him in disbelief. “You…you what?”

“Yeah. You heard me.”

“I don’t understand.”

Rumlow fell silent. The silence stretched on, until eventually Alice asked, “Do you want me to explain, Brock? I know that this can be a difficult thing to talk about.”

What would you know about knotting? Rumlow thought angrily. You’re just some Beta girl, not a real Alpha. You’ve got no idea. But he nodded his head stiffly. He didn’t want to have to explain it to Winter.

“When a dominant Alpha pins a submissive male Alpha, the Alpha being pinned submission knots for them,” she said. “It shows that he’s not a sexual rival to the Alpha he’s submitting to. He’ll often want to lay on his back and present his knot to the dominant Alpha. It’s a way of establishing the pack hierarchy so that everyone can feel secure and know their place.” 

“Yeah, what she said,” Rumlow mumbled, surprised at the accuracy of her answer. His mind drifted to the memory of the Alpha pheromones in Steve’s scent. He hadn’t even meant to submit to him, it was just instinct when he’d been held down by those big, strong hands. Steve had looked down at him at first in confusion, then in dawning understanding, followed by arousal…

“So you…uh, ‘submission knotted’ for him,” Winter said awkwardly. “Then what?”

“Then I gave him a blow job, and then after that we kind of…had an ongoing thing together. I dunno. Not many people knew. The Widow used to make jokes about it, like sarcastic comments and shit. After Pierce found out, it kind of turned into a way for me to keep an eye on him, make sure he didn’t mess anything up before Operation Insight.”

“So you didn't care what he was to me,” Bucky said. “Didn’t you think to tell him that I was alive, so that I could get out of there?”

Brock shook his head. “I know there’s a load of stuff about you in the HYDRA files that the Widow released, but back then I didn’t have clearance for that. I found out way after Cap came out of the ice. I went to the Smithsonian because there was that exhibit on. And then there were pictures of this guy who Cap was apparently real close to - and I realized that it was you . Who you used to be.” Brock shook his head. “It freaked me the fuck out, because that guy in the film reels, smiling like that? He looked like you, but it wasn’t you…I didn’t know what to do with that. But by then I kind of had to keep this thing with Steve up, because I had orders to follow.”

It was probably some kind of test, Brock realized suddenly. Pierce wanted to see if I’d remain loyal, or if I’d turn traitor before the big reveal. I bet they were watching to see if I’d slip up.

“There wasn’t no point in giving everything up, because HYDRA was gonna win anyway. Didn’t think there was anything I could do.”

“You could have told him,” Winter insisted.

“I guess. But I didn’t think it would do any good, and I didn’t wanna get you killed by doing something stupid.”

“You could have done something!

Brock nodded. “Yeah. Probably. I’m sorry, Bucky. I fucked up”

His mate blinked and looked away. “Yeah, you did. But thanks for admitting that, I guess.”

There was silence for a moment before Zemo spoke slowly. “You told me that the reason that Captain Rogers left was because you told him you were bonded to Brock.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, pretty much. He acted like he was disgusted with me, even though it wasn’t my fault. Guess he was just like that sometimes. And now knowing he was sleeping with Brock himself…” He trailed off, and then sighed deeply. “I guess I’m just angry about that.”

“Wasn’t fair, him taking that out on you,” Rumlow muttered. “It’s me he should’ve been mad at. I mean, he was really mad when he came to see me in the hospital. Probably couldn’t believe he fell for all that bullshit. He couldn’t trust I’d just given up like that. Didn’t think he’d believe me, but I told him where to find you.”

“You- what?”, Winter said, staring at him in disbelief.

“I knew how close you were. Hell, when you were out of cryo too long you'd start asking for your 'Stevie'. So I knew I could trust him to look out for you. I figured it was better if he found you than Fury or the Widow, or one of the others. So I told him some places he might look.”

“I…don’t know what to say to that,” Winter said quietly.

“Yeah,” Brock replied awkwardly. There was a few long moments of silence where neither of them looked at each other. Brock noticed that Zemo had taken his mate’s hand.

“We’re nearly at the end of our first session,” Alice said gently. “There were a few things I’d hoped to bring up, but we don’t have the time for that now.”

Alice glanced again at her pre-session notes. She hadn’t time to ask why Helmut had described his bond with Brock as ‘weak’, and why they had locked Brock in the basement, but there was one pressing question she had to ask.

“Helmut, James, I had some problems understanding the timeline of your relationship from your emails. Could you possibly clarify where you bonded?”

Both of the pair remained silent, as though waiting for the other to speak. Then, at the exact same moment, Zemo said, “Riga,” and Bucky replied, “Madripoor”.

“No!”, Bucky said quickly, trying to cover his tracks. “He’s right, it was Riga-”

“People don’t tend to forget where they bonded, James,” Alice replied. “Look, it’s alright, what’s done is done. As I said, I wouldn’t need to report something of that nature. What we talk about here stays in this room. Just to be clear, am I right in assuming you bonded after you told the authorities that you had?”

“An astute observation,” Zemo said with a wry smile. Bucky remained silent and looked down at the floor.

“And that means that… Helmut, you bonded to Brock before you bonded to James?”

“Yes.”

Alice nodded. “I see. It seems you two took a lot of risks to be together. That must have been very stressful for you.”

Zemo and Bucky both shared a sympathetic smile, and nodded.

“Coming together like this can’t have been easy for any of you.”

Definitely an understatement, Brock thought, but remained silent. 

“That’s everything for this session,” Alice said. “ But I just want to thank all three of you for being so honest with me, and with your mates. I can see how much you care about one another, and I really think we can make some real progress over the coming weeks.”

*

After she showed them out, Alice collapsed on the therapy couch and let out a long sigh. That was definitely not the first session she’d planned out for her new clients. She’d hoped to spend some time getting to know them, learning about their relationship - but it seemed there were tensions they would need to work out before they could even start that. She grabbed her phone and texted her mate:

Please send me a picture of a kitten or something, I’m having the most stressful day EVER!

*

When they got back, Brock immediately changed into his running gear, and without saying goodbye to them, set off down one of the beach trails.

“Think he’ll come back?”, Bucky asked, taking a seat on one of the stools at the kitchen island.

“Yes,” Zemo said confidently, gathering up the ingredients for dinner and laying them out on the counter. “Today was difficult for him, but he saw it through.”

But Rumlow skipped dinner. He jogged further along the beach than he ever had before, past the marina, beyond where the sand turned into a rocky cliff and the path into a thin, dirt trail. He wanted to exhaust himself to the point where he would just collapse and forget about everything. He desperately tried not to think about Steve, the way those strong hands had held him down and the way those blue eyed flecked with green had gazed into his as Brock felt his knot swelling…

Brock gritted his teeth and shook his head, trying to clear it of the images and the arousal fogging his brain. God, I’m pathetic. Getting off on knotting like that for him? What the fuck is wrong with me…

He stared out to sea and thought about sex. Not in a way that aroused him, not at all. More like he was trying to figure things out.

It had been fun to sleep with Steve, sure - but as soon as Pierce found out about their relationship, then it had become a way to keep an eye on one of their biggest threats and turned into something ugly that Brock felt no longer belonged to him. 

He tried not to think about Winter - No, Bucky! Bucky, Bucky, Bucky. His name was Bucky now, and he was fucking it all up by calling him Winter. 

Brock stopped and doubled over to catch his breath. He couldn’t help but think about Winter. His Winter. The man he’d been bonded to for more than half his life. It wasn’t complicated back then. Winter had loved him. Everything had made sense. Now, nothing did. 

It’s like he’s not even here anymore , Brock thought. Bucky looks like him, but he isn’t him. Not really. He’s gone, and I’m never going to get to tell him any of the things I wanted to. How sorry I am for everything…

He’d loved having sex with Winter, but that had only started because he was the Asset, and bonding him to an Alpha was another shackle with which to bind him. One of the strongest, as it turned out.

Even sleeping with Zemo had been because Bucky needed him to, to save him from the pain of his chemical heat. There was always another reason for it , Brock thought, And there were always lies.

He thought of someone he’d hadn’t for a long time, and whom he mostly tried not to think about - the first man he knotted with. If you loved me, you’d be able to knot for me….

Brock shook his head, hoping to dislodge the memory.

“No-one wants me ,” he said out loud. It felt like a revelation, but there was no one there to hear it except himself. He understood it all now, he saw the truth. And with it came a strange sense of resolution. 

He turned around and took the forest path back to the house.

*

Zemo heard Brock’s key in the door, and gave Bucky a reassuring smile.

“See?” he said, and Bucky squeezed his knee in return. They were snuggled up on the couch, half- watching some show about aliens. James had chosen it, and while it certainly wasn’t to Zemo’s taste, he enjoyed watching it with his mate.

Brock walked in, watching the two of them warily. 

“There’s some leftover pasta, if you would like it?” Zemo offered. 

Brock shook his head. “No. I mean, not now. Maybe later. Thanks.”

“Here,” Helmut said, ignoring Brock’s awkwardness and untangling himself from James. He moved over, motioning to the new space between them. “You could join us, maybe?”

Brock hesitated for a moment, before nodding in agreement and going over to sit down. He held himself stiffly, acutely aware of every part of his body that was touching his mates; how his thigh was in contact with Bucky’s, how Zemo’s shoulder pushed into his. He stared at the TV screen, but didn’t really see the show. 

Just relax, he thought, tensing as he felt the uncomfortable sensation of static prickling his skin. Nothing bad is happening. You’re just sitting here with your mates. But there was that noise coming through the bond again, growing louder and louder, and he didn’t know how long he’d be able to deal with it…

“Bones,” Bucky said softly. “Thank you for today.”

“What?”, Brock said, barely able to hear over the sound, and the overwhelming sensation of their bodies touching him.

“You were honest with us. You opened up. It must have been hard for you, and I’m really grateful you did that.”

“S’okay,” Brock mumbled, feeling the wave of sound and pure, undiluted sensation washing over him. Shut up! Please, just stop!

“Engaging with therapy is a positive step for us,” Zemo added. “You let yourself be vulnerable-”

“I’m not vulnerable!” Rumlow snapped, standing up suddenly and breaking the connection. He turned to face both his mates. “I’m your Alpha, okay? Yeah, I did this therapy shit to make you happy, and what did I get for it? Winter - Bucky - ripping my head off. Acting like I was cheating on him while he was in the icebox or something!”

“That wasn’t the point at all-” Bucky started, but Brock had already turned and stormed out of the room.

“I don’t understand,” Zemo said, a frown of confusion creasing his brow.  “Everything was fine a moment ago. He seemed settled with us.”

“This happens every time,” Bucky said through gritted teeth. “It looks like things are getting better, then something sets him off and he just explodes.” 

Zemo sighed and slid into Bucky’s arms. “I have faith we can pull through this.”

“Yeah, well I’m glad one of us does.”

*

Bucky woke up in the early hours of the morning. It was a warm summer night, and he quietly cursed himself for forgetting to pour himself a glass of water. He got up and crept out of bed, careful not to wake his sleeping Omega, and snuck down the stairs. He paused at the living room door, noticing a faint glow of light underneath it. He realized that Bones must have moved downstairs, instead of sleeping in his bedroom. Zemo had mentioned that their Alpha didn’t like the room all that much. He hadn’t even unpacked his things yet.

Bucky walked to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. On his way back to bed,  he paused in the hallway outside the living room door.

“Win- Bucky?,” said a quiet voice from inside. “That you?”

“Yeah,” he replied. He’d thought Rumlow was asleep.

There was a long pause.

“Wanna come in?”

Bucky had half a mind to ignore him, and go straight up the stairs. But he didn’t. Instead, he cautiously pushed the door open.

Rumlow was curled on the couch under one of Zemo’s blankets, his face illuminated in the glow of the light from the Switch console. He’d eaten the leftovers they’d saved for him, and it looked like he’d helped himself to a packet of raw carrots, and several beers too. Bucky stared at him, waiting for an explanation of why he’d been summoned.

Bones seemed unsure what to say too, and just stared at him for a moment and then moved up so that Bucky could sit down. 

“Wanna see my farm?”

“Sure. Why not.”

*

“So after the next harvest, I’m gonna rip it all out and replant it.”

“Right,” Bucky mumbled, his head resting in his hand. He’d almost dozed off again.

Brock turned to face him. “Hey, I’m sorry I got mad earlier. Sometimes it’s really loud, okay?”

“Huh?”

“Just…” Bones gestured at his head. “You know? It’s all just loud…” he mimed pulling a trigger. “Boom! When we get all close and stuff.”

“Don’t know what you mean.”

Brock turned away, shaking his head. “Ah, forget it.”

“No, Bones, I… I want to know.”

“Don’t matter. Anyways, when I was jogging I thought of somethin’ I want to talk to Alice about. In therapy next week.”

“Really?” Bucky said, trying not not to let the shock creep into his voice. He really expected a fight next time therapy rolled round. He hadn’t expected Bones to want to talk about something. “What’s that?”

“Sex.”

“Oh.”

“No, I don’t mean… ah, look. Just, people always wanted me to have sex not ‘cause of me, but ‘cause of what I got. ‘Cause of my knot, ‘cause I gotta control someone, ‘cause I gotta keep an eye on someone, ‘cause they’re hurting an’ they need my dick to fix it.”

Bucky sat up properly and stared at his mate. Bones continued focusing on his game, not looking up at him. 

“I never thought of it like that. That’s…kind of awful. And yeah, it would be a good thing to talk about in therapy.”

Brock nodded. “Yup. That's what I thought.”

Cautiously, Bucky reached out and slid his arm around his mate for a hug. Brock allowed him to do so, but didn’t return the affection.

“Too much?”, Bucky asked.

“Mmm-hmm.”

Bucky pulled back. “Okay. Want me to go?”

“Yep.”

“Alright.” 

Bucky got up and walked over to the door. When he reached it, he paused and turned back. “Bones?”

“Uh huh?”

I love you? I hate you? You frustrate me so much I could scream? I wish we could’ve worked this all out in the daytime? 

“Get some sleep.”

*

Chapter 6

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text


*

Brock woke up suddenly, his heart pounding. It was still dark, and at first he wasn’t sure what had woken him up. He’d decided to try sleeping in his bedroom again after a few nights on the couch, but maybe that had been a mistake. He glanced around the shadowy room, but nothing seemed out of place. Then his ears fixed on the sound of breathing and he caught Winter’s earthy scent. He felt the bed dip next to him, as Winter climbed up and lay next to him. The bedroom was so dark he couldn’t see the expression on his face.

“What’re you-”

“Please don’t say anything”, Winter murmured, nuzzling at his neck. “I can’t talk right now. I just need you.”

Brock didn’t know what to make of this. All day long Winter had wanted nothing to do with him, and now here he was sneaking into his room in the middle of the night.

“Okay.”

Winter climbed on top of him, and Brock felt his stomach dip as arousal went straight to his groin at the feeling of Winter’s hard cock rubbing against him. His own was stiffening in response, and the friction of his boxers was suddenly too much. But he couldn’t move without shifting Winter off him so he let his mate press him back into the mattress as he rubbed against him. With a groan, Winter buried his mouth in Brock’s neck, lips teasing wet and soft, and teeth nipping lightly. Brock let out a growl as Winter placed his hands on his shoulders.

There’s no way I could get out of here, if I wanted to escape, he thought. He’s so strong, he can just take what he wants…

The thought turned him on and he found himself pressing his hips up against him, needing more. Winter was rutting against him now, hard and fast and Brock felt precum leaking through his briefs.

“Fu-” the sound that came from Brock’s throat was cut off by Winter’s desperate kiss. 

“No talking, ‘k?”, he whispered, kissing the tender spot beneath Brock’s ear.

Brock tilted his mouth up to him. Give it to me, Win, he thought as his mate trailed his lips along his jawline. I know I don’t deserve it, but please…

Those strong, powerful thighs pressing against his…oh and now Winter was moving down slightly so that he was humping his thigh, leaving Brock’s cock to run against the muscular plain of his abs. Brock wished he could feel the smooth skin of Winter’s chest, electricity sparking between them where they touched. It felt like that sometimes, when they were moving in rhythm. When it felt like they were on the edge of something, and the bond between them was almost humming like a tuning fork. 

Winter took one of his nipples in his mouth and Brock arched beneath him, biting down hard on his lip to stop a stream of pleas from falling from his lips. He wanted to beg Winter to pull down his boxers and touch him. But he couldn’t, and he felt like he was coming apart beneath his mate's touch, keep touching me like this, just keep me like this forever, Win please, I’m yours….

The surge of arousal was building and building with every thrust of Winter’s hips, and Brock gasped as precum leaked needily from the head of his cock. There was need sparking like a faulty current through the bond, and in the darkness Brock could just make out the outline of Winter’s body above him, his eyes reflecting the moonlight when they flickered up to his face. 

He gripped Winter’s hips, and felt his mate tense before, panting for breath, he jerked and came over Brock’s thigh, hot and sticky. 

Winter collapsed with a groan, his head on Brock’s chest. “Fuck. Sorry.”

“S’okay,” Brock managed, trying to ignore his hard-on.

Win- Bucky shifted off him and lay next to him on the bed. He didn’t try to cuddle him, and after a moment he pulled himself into a seating position and began cleaning himself up. He handed the box of tissues to Brock, who took them but made no move to wipe away his mate’s cum.

“You want me to?”, Bucky asked, gesturing to Brock’s still-hard cock.

“No!” Brock said quickly. Bucky clearly didn’t want to stay and Brock didn’t want him to feel like he had to. And after what they’d just done, Brock didn’t know what to think. It was so different from their usual dynamic that it left him feeling like he had no idea who his mate really was. 

“I really don’t mind.”

Brock shook his head. “Nah, I’m good.”

“Okay, then I’m gonna go,” Bucky said after a few moments had passed.

“Yeah. Right.”

Bucky stood and padded over to the door.

“See you in the morning.”

“Yeah.”

Bucky hesitated, as though he was about to say something else, before slipping out and closing the door behind him with a click.

Brock quickly slipped his hand into his boxers and moaned in relief as he wrapped a hand around his throbbing cock. Oh fuck, that was better!

He was messy and covered in sweat and cum, and he knew that he was so close. He worked his cock fast, thumbing the head with each stroke, the other hand tangling in his hair as he arched back into the feeling building inside him, so close, so close now….

But there was another kind of pressure pulsing in the base of his cock, and he felt it swelling up bigger and bigger. Subconsciously, almost as if he wasn’t in control of his hand, he felt it moving lower to grip the base, stroking that tender swelling bulb and…oh fuck, he was knotting!

He groaned aloud in frustration. This was just fucking perfect, wasn’t it? He wasn’t even going to be able to come now! He palmed his knot, coaxing it until it was fully formed and then he hooked his two fingers into a catch to hold it. At least that was something, that bright, sensitive pressure whenever his fingers tugged at his knot, but he needed someone to tell him to release it, or it would be ages before it went down on its own. His cock twitched and he gasped as a trickle of cum escaped. But it did nothing to relieve the pressure. If anything, his knot felt even bigger than before. Brock whimpered. God, it was so much!

He couldn’t bear to touch the shaft of his cock now, it was so oversensitive. So, he helplessly stroked his knot, trying to make it go down so that his body would finally let him come.

He screwed his eyes shut and imagined Winter’s hands on him, his mouth on him, his sweat and scent covering him. Knotting to him, keeping their bodies locked together. All mine, no one’s gonna take him away… 

His hand slipped into Winter’s cum coating his thigh and came away sticky. Without even thinking, Brock brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked. Winter could do whatever he wanted to him; hold him down and cum all over him, and he’d take it. He wanted to be good for Win, Winter would tell him when to come, tell him he was such a good boy and… oh fuck!

Brock cried out as the knot suddenly released all at once and he came hard in long, hot spurts over his stomach. He collapsed back onto the bed, exhausted and wrecked, feeling the muscles in his thighs shake. Winter’s come mixed with his own on his skin and there was something primal about being covered in his mate’s scent like this. He felt claimed, like no one else could touch him and somehow it was all ok.

He knew that Bucky was a Beta, not an Alpha, but did it even matter any more? Brock had still just submission-knotted for his mate, and come from it. 

Wouldn't be the first time though, would it? he thought, remembering the time all those years ago when he'd been injured and Winter had acted all protective of him and Brock's body had just…knotted for him. Winter had been so interested, so curious about it and it felt like their dynamic had completely reversed in the best way possible, just for a few hours. 

He glanced up at the door again. He wished Winter had stayed, he realized. Right now, the idea of falling asleep with his mate in his arms didn’t feel too much. Didn’t feel like he needed to pull away. He just wanted all of him.

But Winter didn’t want him.

Brock knew that wasn’t true, but he felt like it was and right now he couldn’t convince himself otherwise. 

He sighed and massaged his knot as he felt it finish going down. He needed to sleep. Maybe this would all make sense in the morning. Maybe he could tell the Baron; it wasn’t like all these difficulties they were having were a secret or anything. Zemo was kinda like a mind reader anyway, and he seemed better at figuring out the bond than either of them. He probably already knew, if he wasn’t asleep. Brock thought about texting him, but he didn’t want to wake him up. Zemo got grumpy if his sleep was disturbed and it was almost 2am. Better to wait.

He picked up his phone and texted Bucky:

Sleep well xxx

*

"So how have you been this week?" Alice asked.

Bucky silently turned to Zemo, who was sitting next to him on the left of the couch. It was a warm day, but he’d wrapped himself up in a light blanket he’d brought with him. He’d been spending a lot of time on his own the last few days, and even sleeping in the little loft room he’d made for himself above his office.

“Don’t look at me like that, James,” Zemo grumbled. “I told you, I’m fine. I’ve just been feeling a little under the weather the past few days.”

“He keeps saying that,” Bucky said.

“Are you sure you’re alright to go ahead with the session if you’re feeling unwell, Helmut?”, Alice asked.

“I just need some space,” Zemo said, pulling the blanket around himself. “I don’t want to talk much today.”

“Alright, if you’re sure. We can focus more on James and Brock, in that case.” Alice made a few notes in her book before turning her attention to Bucky. “How have you been this week?”

Bucky nodded. "Uh, yeah, okay. I feel more comfortable around Brock but…"

He hesitated. It was one thing telling his individual therapist his issues with his Alpha, but another thing entirely to say it while Brock was sitting on the same couch as him on the other side of Zemo.

"What do you want to say?", Alice prompted him. 

"I don't like it when he snaps at us because I feel like it's my fault," Bucky admitted. "Like I've done something wrong and I'm going to get punished."

"Not your fault," Brock mumbled.

"No, I know," Bucky said. "That's something I'm working on with my own therapist. But it does help to hear you say that."

"When does this usually happen?", Alice asked.

Bucky remained silent. It had already taken a lot for him to talk about what was on his mind, and he wanted to hear what his mates had to say.

"It can be any time, really," Zemo said wearily. "If we are watching a movie together sometimes Brock will say something, storm out. Or if I touch his things,even if I'm just trying to clean up a little-"

"Told you I'd do it myself," Brock interrupted. "And yeah, don't like you touching my things."

"So, you don't like Zemo touching your things. Does that apply to Bucky touching them as well?"

"Yeah, but he don't do that."

"Because he's worried about making you angry."

"Yeah."

"Mmm." Alice made a quick note in her book. "Can you talk more about that, Brock?"

Brock shrugged. "Dunno what there is to say. I just don't like them touching my stuff."

"Where are your things in the house? Do you have your own space?" 

"Yeah, I got a bedroom next to theirs."

"He doesn't use it much," Zemo chimed in. "He's mostly been sleeping on the couch in the living room, but he has moved some of his things down to the basement."

"You keeping tabs on me or something?", Brock grunted.

Zemo tilted his head to one side as he observed Brock. "I don't understand why that bothers you."

Brock huffed and crossed his arms. "Don't like being watched."

"So what I'm hearing is that Brock doesn't have any den space," Alice said. 

"Any what now?"

"Zemo, you have a nest space I assume?", Alice asked.

Zemo nodded. "Yes, in the loft. Are you saying that Brock needs a room like that?"

"Yes. A space that's just his that he has control over. It helps a lot of Alphas to feel more secure. If they don't have that, it can interfere with their guarding instinct."

"Yeah, I always feel like you're going to take my stuff and move it or throw it out," Brock said. 

"So perhaps, a permanent den space is needed."

"Yeah, sounds good."

"I'm sure we can figure something out," Bucky said. 

Alice smiled. "That's good. Hopefully that will help. We can talk more about that in future sessions."

"You said there was something you wanted to talk about, right?", Bucky said, turning to Brock.

"Uhh...oh yeah, right," Brock said, scratching his head. "So, um. I was thinking, after last time about when Winter brought the Baron to me because he was in heat. I'm glad he did now, obviously, but at the time I hated that he did that."

"Why was that?", Alice asked.

"Because Win- Bucky was my mate, and I hadn't seen him for years. It fucking hurt that he just wanted to use me like that." 

Bucky turned to look at Brock in surprise. He hadn’t realized that when his mate had said he felt like people had always used him for sex, that Bones meant him too. And yes, Bucky supposed he had, technically, just been using him, but after everything that Brock had done to him, treating him like he was a thing, not even a real person…

"Are you seriously complaining to me about being used?", Bucky said tightly, clenching his jaw. 

Brock looked down at the floor. 

"Is it hard for you to hear him say that, James?", Alice asked. 

"Yeah. Real fucking hard. It was an emergency, and I was desperate to help Zemo. I don't get how this is suddenly my fault?"

"That's not what I said,” Brock muttered.

"You used me!” Bucky snapped. “You think I had any say in the stuff that HYDRA made me do? So what if I asked you to do this one thing for me?"

"Yeah, exactly," Brock said. "I owed you. Doesn't mean I wanted to do it."

Bucky stopped as the words sank in. Of course Brock owed him… but he didn’t want his mate to feel that way, not really. That was how HYDRA had taught them to think, and it was unhealthy. He didn’t want to be someone who used other people, someone who saw his mate as an object instead of a person. The idea of that made him feel sick.

“...Okay, yeah, I did use you,” he admitted after a moment. “I was angry with you, and I didn’t think about things from your perspective. I’m sorry about that.”

“S’okay. I guess things worked out in the end.”

"How do you feel about this, Helmut?”, Alice asked, after a moment of silence. 

"I feel uncomfortable about it," Zemo said, fiddling with the hem of the blanket. "I thought that Brock willingly agreed to mate with me, without caveat. Though, I suppose I'm not surprised that it was a lot more complicated than that."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you everything," Bucky said. "I know we've talked about it before, but that's what I should've done."

Zemo nodded and wrapped the blanket around himself. “It’s fine. Like you said, we’ve discussed this already.”

"It's not just Bucky doing that that I wanted to talk about," Brock said. "Because I was thinking, the whole reason any of this shit happened, why I wanted to bond with him, was because I thought he wouldn't do that to me."

"What do you mean?” Bucky asked. 

“My whole life no one ever saw past me being an Alpha," Brock confessed. "Not just in HYDRA, but I guess that was a lot of it. Growing up I was just a problem kid, and then later on I got treated by Betas as basically just a knot."

"I experienced something similar," Zemo said. "Were you also terrified of bonding?"

Brock nodded. "Oh yeah, big time! My first boyfriend used to say how great it would be if I could bond to him but he didn't have to bond to me."

"Why would he say that?"

Brock shrugged. "I dunno, he was an asshole. Point is, I didn't want someone in my head all the time controlling me and making me do shit."

"You can tell me if I'm way off here, but do you think that relationship had an effect on your decision to bond with James?" Alice asked.

Brock blinked. "Err…I dunno. I never thought about it like that before. Maybe?"

"The reason I ask is because in the email you sent me, you mentioned that you 'signed up' to bond with Bucky-"

"Can you say 'the Winter Soldier' or 'the Asset'," Bucky interjected.

"Of course. My apologies, James," Alice said. She looked down at her notes before turning back to Brock and continuing. "You said that you signed up because you were promised a promotion to Commander if you became the Asset's handler."

"Yeah, that's what I was told. Said they wanted me specifically, that I was special. Dunno why they said that. It was probably just bullshit mind games"

"I always wondered why," Bucky said. "Ever since I got out and I got my mind back. For a while I thought maybe you were just ordered to do it, but recently I remembered stuff about you fighting other Alphas in front of me. For me. So, I figured you must have wanted it."

"Yeah, I did want it," Brock said. "Until then I never wanted anything more."

"So you weren't worried about the Asset controlling you through the bond, is that right?", Alice asked.

"Yeah, exactly!", Brock said quickly. "If I bonded to him, I'd never have to worry about that."

"Why did you think that?"

Brock looked over at him apprehensively. I know what he's going to say, Bucky realized, his heart sinking. They used to call me 'it' before we bonded. Like I wasn't a real person, just a tool to be used. The fist of HYDRA.

"Because I didn't think he could feel anything. When I asked the techs- technicians, I mean- how we were gonna bond, they just told me some complicated science stuff that I didn't understand. Just told me to follow orders and let them do their job."

"I'm not ready to talk about that yet," Bucky said quickly, before Brock could say anything else. 

"Ok, that's fine. We don't have to," Alice said reassuringly. "Only when you're ready to do so." 

"Thank you. So, you really did want to bond to me, then? It wasn't just the price of promotion?"

"I did, I just didn't know what that meant. Still don't really. Not sure I get it. Like with the Baron," he said, turning to face Zemo. "I like being with you, but sometimes it's just way too much."

Zemo frowned, a look of concern creasing his face. "What do you mean, Brock?"

"Like when you hold my hand or touch me if I'm upset."

"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't realize you didn't like that. Should I ask next time, or would you prefer I refrain from doing it altogether?"

"It's fine sometimes, so I guess just ask. Same with moving my stuff."

"Okay, thank you for telling me that. While we’re on the topic of consent, there is something I wanted to discuss.” Zemo leaned forward in his seat, meeting Brock’s eyes. “I noticed that when you knot me, you don't want me to move or touch you. Sometimes, this is fine, but I don't always want you to knot me like that. Is this something you always have to do?"

"Ah, that," Brock mumbled, scratching the scars on his cheek. "Uh…well. Hmm. Not sure how to say this…" 

There was a pause before Brock continued. "My ex - Donny, the guy I mentioned, used to do…stuff to me when we were tied together. Hurt me. Not sure if he thought it was sexy or something. Like I said, he was an asshole."

"You never told me," Bucky said, after a moment's silence.

"I did."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Nah, not your fault, obviously. It was a long time ago and you’ve got wiped a couple times since then."

"I'm sorry that happened to you, Brock," Zemo said.

Brock shrugged. "Yeah, me too. But I don't need no pity. What's done is done."

The room was silent for a moment before Brock said awkwardly, “What, you want me to tell you about it?”

“If you feel comfortable, then sharing the story might help your mates understand your mindset better,” Alice suggested.

Brock took a few deep breaths and a long drink from his water bottle. “Alright. I’ll tell you about Donny.”

*

Brock finished his story, staring at the floor as he spoke. “So I didn’t give up any names, and that’s one of the reasons why my sentence was so long. Two years in juvie. ‘Course I didn’t serve all of it, but that’s not important right now I guess.”

“Brock…” Zemo said softly, placing a hand on his Alpha’s back. Brock shrugged it off.

“Guess I used up all our precious time talkin’ about ancient history, huh?”

“You’re right that that’s all of our time for today, but I think it was important for your mates to understand your early romantic experiences,” Alice reassured him. “And it might get worse before it gets better - that’s a natural part of our healing processes. But you’re working really hard, and I think you can work through this together.”

*

After the three men left, Alice took a deep breath and grabbed her phone.

JIA! Ducklings. Puppies. Hamsters. Something cute, pleaaaaaaaaase!


*

Bucky felt more relaxed after his hike through the woods. Dappled sunlight filtered through the trees, and the sound of birdsong and leaves rustling gently lulled him into a state of calm. Now that he’d had time to think things through, what Brock had told him made a lot of sense, and he realized that he felt better knowing that Brock had more of a reason for wanting to bond with him than a simple promotion opportunity. Somehow that story had never entirely fit with the person that he knew his mate to be. There were plenty of people in HYDRA who would do anything for a promotion, but Brock Rumlow had never seemed like he was one of them. Despite all his complicated feelings about his Alpha and their shared past, Bucky knew that Brock had cared about him, about Jack and the rest of his team, and had been fiercely loyal to them. It made sense now, knowing that they were all the family that he had. Bucky just hoped that, in time, he and Zemo could be that for their Alpha.

He knew that Zemo already had ideas about turning the basement into a den for Brock, and hopefully that would help him feel more secure. Like he actually lived here with them, and wasn’t just a guest crashing on their couch. 

As he came out of the woods and started up the path to their house, he caught the sound of 80s pop music coming from inside. Curious, he opened the door, and couldn’t help but grin at what he saw. Zemo was dancing. 

“~Some boys come and some boys go and that’s alright you see~”

He had an apron on and a paintbrush in hand, and he was singing along to the song as he painted the stairway a warm vanilla white.

“~Experience has made me rich and now they’re after me~ James!” Zemo broke off, turning around in surprise. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

Bucky smirked, walking over to him. “Didn’t want to disturb. You looked like you were having a good time.”

Zemo blushed and set his brush down, wiping his hands on his apron.

“You’ve got a little something…”

“Excuse me?”

Bucky reached up to his face and wiped the paint from his mate’s cheek. “Got it.”

He leaned in and kissed his Omega, attempting to press him back against the wall.

“Wait, be careful of the paint!” Zemo said, moving so that he was leaning against the railings. “Here.”

Bucky tried again, feeling his mate’s warmth, one hand gripping his waist, the other braced against the banister. Why was it so cute when Zemo wore shorts? The bond between them was humming as he pulled back, staring into his Omega’s warm, brown eyes. Zemo wound his hand into Bucky’s hair- longer now, he hadn’t cut it since they’d been together- and pulled him in again. Bucky heard himself moan with longing, and felt a wave of arousal go straight to his cock. He pressed against Zemo, burying his head in his neck to inhale his fresh, sweet scent.

“Smell so good,” he murmured, and Zemo’s head fell back as he licked at his scent glands. “I could just eat you up.”

“My big bad wolf,” Zemo purred, pressing himself against him. 

Bucky growled and bit teasingly at his mate’s neck. There was the sound of crunching wood and he looked up to see that part of the railing had splintered in his hand.

“Oh…oops.”

Zemo shook his head, “Ah. Don’t worry about it, James. I wanted to replace the railings anyway.”

Zemo walked up a few stairs, and then reached out his hand for Bucky.

“Come upstairs?”

To Zemo’s surprise, Bucky picked him up right there and carried him.

His mate directed him not to the bedroom, but to his new office and the stairs that led up to the loft above. Bucky hadn’t been up here since Zemo had decorated. It was a wood-paneled room with colorful woven rugs on the floor, and Zemo had since draped fabric around the bed tucked neatly into the corner of the cosy little room. It was piled with pillows and blankets, and he threw Zemo down onto the bed before climbing on top of him.

*

When they’d finished mating, Bucky reached across and grabbed the box of tissues on the bedside table. Zemo was lying curled up against him, half asleep in a post-sex haze. He felt his mate’s contentment radiating through the bond, and he lay back against the mound of pillows his mate had so graciously placed there, feeling content. The round window was open just a little and the breeze carried the sound of birdsong in the hazy afternoon air. 

“So you’re feeling better?,” he asked Zemo, stroking his mussed up hair. 

“Mmm, yes,” Zemo said, nuzzling against his neck. “I don’t know what it was, but I feel more myself again.”

“Good,” Bucky said. “I was worried about you. I missed you.”

“I missed you too, James,” Zemo said, closing his eyes. “But I feel fine now.”

Bucky inhaled his mate’s sweet scent. It was much stronger than usual, but that might have been because they were completely surrounded by blankets and pillows Zemo alone had been using. He looked around the room and noticed that Zemo had hung up a woven, geometric, as well as an oil painting of an old European church square. 
“Is that Sokovia?”, he asked, gesturing to the picture.

Zemo opened his eyes to see what Bucky was looking at “Mm, yes. I found the painting online. It’s a reproduction of course. The original was destroyed, much like the square itself.”

“Doesn’t it make you sad to see it?”

Zemo shook his head. “No. I grew up in Novi Grad. I have far more good memories of being there than bad ones.”

“You never talk about that stuff.”

“I know, but let's not talk about it now,” Zemo said, placing a kiss on his clavicle. 

“But-”

“Something else, please James.”

“Fine,” Bucky said, tugging a pillow out from underneath him. “Why do you have so many pillows?”

“It’s a nest, what do you expect?”

Bucky hesitated. He knew that Zemo had been touchy about himself or Brock coming up here, into his space. Nests were a private Omega thing. Maybe not the kind of thing you could just ask about?

“What’s wrong, James?”, Zemo asked

“Is it ok that I’m up here?”

“Of course, I want you here. I like your scent being on it.”

“Oh, right. That’s good.”

“In fact, if I could have some of your clothes to create scent layers, that would be ideal.”

“Sure, you can borrow whatever you want as long as I’m not wearing it.”

Zemo hummed, obviously pleased and climbed over Bucky and off the bed. He watched as Zemo began picking his discarded clothes up off the floor and placed them in the nest.

“Oh, you mean like worn ones?”, he asked in surprise.

Zemo nodded. “You wore these on your hike, correct.”

“Uh huh.”

“Perfect.”

“But…they’re all sweaty?”

“So are you, James,” Zemo said, climbing back onto the bed and lying down on his front. “You’re getting your scent all over my sheets.”

“You’re strange, you know that?”

Zemo shrugged. “You’re just not used to Omegas.”

Bucky shook his head. “Nah, not really. There weren’t any in HYDRA. Just Alphas.”

“Brock never took your clothes to scent?”

Bucky stared at him. “You’re kidding, right? He’d never have been allowed to do that.” Bucky paused to think for a moment before saying, “He did like my uniform though, but I figured that was just because he wanted to take it off.”

Zemo smiled. “Probably that too,” he said, tracing his hand down Bucky's chest. “Who wouldn’t want that?”

“Where is he, anyway?”

“Down in the basement again," Zemo responded. 

"I don't know why he likes it down there so much."

Zemo shrugged. "He doesn't like his bedroom."

"Yeah, I noticed." 

"Maybe he just wants to be on his own."

"Maybe."

Zemo’s hand continued downwards, detouring across his hips to his thigh. Bucky felt his cock stirring with interest again and with a growl climbed on top of his mate. 

He brought his right hand up to stroke Zemo’s throat as he licked the red mark where he’d bitten his mate. He felt Zemo shiver beneath him and buck his hips up against him as he whispered. “Yes, James…”

Bucky kept his hand there, feeling arousal crackling through the bond.

“You really like this, huh?”, he whispered against Zemo’s ear.

“Yes,” Zemo moaned, rocking his hips back against Bucky’s hard cock. “Please...”

“Please, what?”

“More, please, James...”

Bucky hesitated. What if it was too much for his mate? He knew exactly how much pressure to exert before someone passed out, but that wasn’t the issue. What if he got carried away and did something accidentally? 

“I will say stop, if it’s too much,” Zemo said. “But don’t feel that you have to, just because this is what I want.”

“No, I want to,” Bucky said, surprising himself. But he did. This was his Omega and he was going to mate him, claim him. Zemo’s scent was all around him in the nest, turning musky sweet with the smell of sex still on his skin, and he had a sudden urge to cover him in his own scent. “I really do.”

Zemo wriggled underneath him teasingly and Bucky growled and pinned him down, tightening the hand at his throat. “Stay still for me, Omega,” he ordered.

Bucky felt a heady surge of desire as his mate obeyed him. He felt strong, powerful. Like he was in control of what was happening. It was a strange feeling, but one that he felt like he could definitely start to enjoy. Obediently, Zemo continued to hold still for him as Bucky lined himself up with Zemo’s slick hole and slid into him with ease.

“This is what you wanted, huh?”, Bucky asked, as Zemo let out a moan. 

“Yes, ah!” Zemo gasped. “Please, James…”

“You feel so good,” Bucky growled, biting down on his shoulder as he began fucking into him. “Gonna keep you safe like this, all mine…”

He held his mate down, no way he could escape. Zemo felt like he was lost in pleasure as Bucky pounded into him, pressing him down into the mattress. Zemo’s body was out of his control… no, not out of control. Zemo was giving himself to him. Submitting. He was for Bucky to do with as he wanted…

Bucky turned Zemo’s head slightly to face him and his beautiful mate looked up at him, his pupils dark with lust, his mouth open, begging for more. “Make me yours,” Zemo pleaded. “Take me…”

Bucky loosened his grip on Zemo’s neck before plunging his fingers into his mouth. Zemo started sucking them immediately, and Bucky felt his throat contracting around him as he took him. If Brock was here, we could fuck our Omega from both ends, Bucky thought, and the idea turned him on so much that he couldn’t stop himself from coming. His hips jerked and Zemo moaned around his fingers as he felt his mate filling him up. 

He pulled out slowly, and lay beside his mate. Only then did he realize that that fantasy had come from Zemo, the bond blurring their thoughts and feelings into one. 

“Is that what you want?”, Bucky asked as Zemo turned onto his side to face him, his Omega’s cock hard and red and dripping precum as he palmed it. 

“Yes,” Zemo gasped, his mouth open.

“Tell me.”

Zemo licked his lips, hand working his cock from base to tip. He held Bucky’s gaze as he confessed, “I want you to fuck me while our Alpha fucks me.”

“How?”

“You’re behind me, fucking me on my hands and knees, and you’re making me take our Alpha’s cock in my mouth. Swallow all of it down.”

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”, Bucky said leaning in to kiss him, “Taking us both like that?”

“Oh yes, absolutely. I’d love it,” Zemo gasped. “I’d do it for you, whatever you wanted me to do…”

Bucky wrapped his hand around Zemo’s neck again and the Omega moaned. “We’d give you all of it, as much as you could take.”

“Yes,” Zemo panted. “Both of you fucking me…ah!”

Bucky felt the pleasure of his mate’s orgasm swell and then Zemo was spilling over his chest and the sheets between them before collapsing onto his back. His eyes were glazed and he was panting heavily. 

“I love you,” Bucky said.

“Mm, I love you too, James,” Zemo said, pulling him in for a kiss.

They lay next to each other in contentment, feeling their bond vibrating between them. It was always strongest when they were mating and as the flow of thoughts, feelings and sensations began to return to its usual level, Bucky asked, “Is that the kind of thing you fantasize about a lot?”

“Yes,” Zemo replied honestly. “I want both of you. I miss that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I didn’t mean that it was your fault. I know how difficult it is to be with Brock still.”

“It’s getting better,” Bucky said. “But I’m not quite ready for that yet.” 

*

 

Notes:

The story that Brock tells his mates in therapy is linked here as a one shot.
As you've probably guess, it has a lot of heavy themes so please read the warnings and tags first!

Chapter Text

*

Bucky stacked three of the dusty boxes of books on top of each other and carried them up the stairs. Zemo had already been through them to see if there was anything of interest, but it was mostly books on fly-fishing and fossils, which neither of them were exactly clambering to learn more about. And Bones seemed to struggle with words and didn’t really read much at all, except comic books, as it turned out. 

For his part, Bucky liked fantasy novels, always had. There was something comforting about disappearing into another world when things got bad in the real one. Unfortunately, Evangeline’s husband hadn’t been much for them. There were a couple of science fiction pulp novels, but everything felt like sci fi to Bucky these days so he decided to leave them be. Though, he had found a couple of piano books with some songs that he actually knew in them, so that was something.

There were a few things down in the basement that would come in useful, like gardening tools, but they’d decided that pretty much everything else down here was going to the local Goodwill. When they were done clearing it out, they had a plan to start converting it into a den space for Brock. They’d been working most of the morning already, and even with the three of them sorting and carrying stuff upstairs, they hadn’t made much of a dent in the hoard.

Brock was happily focused on the task, though, and seemed to be trying to compete with him about how much he could carry upstairs. Obviously he was never going to be able to carry as much as Bucky was, but Bucky wasn’t going to complain, especially when his mate was getting all hot and sweaty in a way that was getting pretty distracting. Bucky found himself trying to catch his scent as he passed, and almost dropped the boxes he was carrying when he caught a whiff.

When Bucky came upstairs, he found Zemo lying on the couch. He appeared to be asleep, with a blanket pulled over him despite the heat of the day. 

Bucky went over to him and sat down on the floor next to him. He could feel his mate dreaming through the bond, but he felt agitated. He was frowning and muttering something that Bucky couldn’t understand, and he felt a stab of concern for his mate. He knew what it was like, to feel trapped in a dream that felt more real than the waking world did. 

“Hey, Zemo,” he said, gently shaking his shoulder. 

Zemo stirred, rubbing his eyes and squinting at him in confusion.

“James?”, he asked, voice still raspy from sleep. “Why did you wake me?”

“You were having a bad dream.”

Zemo glared at him and drew the blanket around himself. “No, I wasn’t actually.”

“Oh. I thought I felt something.”

“Well, maybe keep it to yourself next time,” Zemo huffed. “Is it too much to ask for a little privacy?”

“No,” Bucky said, taken aback. “Just worried about you, that’s all.”

“Forget it.” Zemo said, getting up and stretching. 

Bucky looked up, a little lost at Zemo’s sudden prickliness, to see Brock come into the room munching on some chips. 

“Hey Baron, what’s for lunch?”

Zemo shot him an irritated look. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t want none of that spicy thing with the peppers we had last night.”

“You didn’t like that?” Bucky asked his Alpha. “I thought it was good.”

“Yeah, if you like your mouth getting burnt.”

“Oh come on!” Bucky said with a grin. “It wasn’t even hot!”

“Felt like my tongue was on fire.”

Bucky remembered how they’d watched as Brock had grabbed a carton of milk from the fridge and downed half of it.

“You just can’t handle spice.”

“Whatever, I’m not eating that again. I want something else.”

Bucky turned to look at Zemo. “What about Sarma? Those little packages are real good.”

“I’m not your wife, James!”, Zemo snapped. “Make lunch yourself for once!”

Bucky was taken aback, but not entirely surprised. Their mate had been moody the past week, and every time his temper seemed like it would flare up out of nowhere. “I never said- look, I’ll make something ok?”

“I don’t want anything,” Zemo huffed. Bucky watched as his mate got to his feet, picking up the blanket he’d had wrapped around him. “I’m tired. I’m going upstairs. Try to refrain from bothering me.”

Brock turned back to Bucky as their Omega left the room, slamming the door behind him. “Something I said?”

Bucky shrugged, getting up and walking past him to the kitchen. “No. I think I just made him mad by waking him up.”

“Yeah, he hates that,” Brock said, following after him. “Sometimes he falls asleep on my arm but I don’t wanna move it in case he wakes up and bites my head off.”

Bucky nodded. He felt like he couldn’t keep up lately with how quickly Zemo’s moods seemed to shift, and although he could feel it through the bond it didn’t give him any clue why it was happening. Whenever he asked, Zemo was dismissive, saying he was sure it was nothing to worry about, before snapping at Bucky for eating chips too loudly, or for Brock to stop fussing with his hair. 

They’d been sitting on the couch watching a movie yesterday, and Zemo had asked him to get him a blanket because, despite the fact that it was a warm summer’s night, he was feeling cold. Bucky had brought him the woollen one from the living room hamper, but the instant that it touched his skin, his Omega had cringed away from it saying, “Ugh, no. This one is all wrong. Get it away, please, James.”

Bucky had been completely taken aback when Brock had gone upstairs and returned with a microfibre blanket that he set on Zemo’s lap. Zemo had thanked Brock and immediately pulled it around himself, purring contentedly. Bucky had stared at Brock in surprise, but the Alpha had simply shrugged and said. “What? I pay attention. He likes that one, and it’s got both our scents on it,” a fact which Bucky hadn’t even noticed until their Alpha had pointed it out.

Bucky got out the ingredients for spaghetti sauce and began chopping the veggies.  Despite the fact that Zemo prepared most of their food, Bucky liked cooking. He wasn’t the best at it, but he liked cooking simple things with fresh ingredients and most of all, he liked knowing what was in his food. 

Brock got a beer out of the fridge and unscrewed the cap. “Watcha makin’?”

“Spaghetti. That ok?”

He took a swig of his beer. “Yeah. I like the way you make it.”

“Really?”

Brock grabbed the bag of chips and began snacking on them. “Yeah, tastes good. You use lots of herbs and stuff.”

“Well, I’m glad I haven’t lost my touch.”

Brock’s phone buzzed.

“Who’s that?”

“The Baron,” Brock said. “Keeps texting me horny shit. Wanna see?”

Bucky looked up at the phone Brock was holding out to him.

“I think people call it ‘sexting’,” Bucky said after a moment.

Brock laughed and began typing out a reply. “You don’t say, grandpa.”

Bucky huffed in response. “He never texts me stuff like that.”

“Maybe he thinks you don’t know how.”

“Oh, I know how .”

Brock smirked and took another swig of his beer. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Bucky tried to smile back but felt it come out more like an uncertain grimace. He wasn’t sure how he felt about doing something like that with either of his mates. We’re not really at that place yet , Bucky thought. As if in answer to his thoughts, a memory briefly surfaced of himself calling Brock and telling him all the things he wanted his Alpha to do to him. It felt like a real memory, but when the hell would HYDRA have let him use a phone?

“You’re real good with him, you know that?”, Brock said, interrupting Bucky’s train of thought.

Bucky turned to see Brock looking at him.

“I don’t know,” Bucky replied. “You know better than me what he wants sometimes.”

“Yeah, but you never get mad at him, when he’s acting like that.”

Bucky realized that Brock wasn’t just talking about Zemo.

“It doesn’t make me mad,” Bucky replied. “He’s gonna be upset or in a bad mood sometimes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love him.”

Brock was silent for a minute, before he said quietly. “I know it ain’t been easy, me living with you guys.”

Bucky wanted to say, We all live together, you’re not just bunking here, but that wasn’t the point of what Brock was trying to tell him.

“Thanks for saying that,” Bucky said slowly. “I appreciate it.”

Brock nodded, looking away as he took a swig of his beer. 

“I know it can’t have been easy for you either, after living on your own for so long. I know what that’s like.”

“Yeah, kind of hard when I’m used to being in my own space.”

“You know that we want you here though, right?”

Brock smirked. “Yeah, I think I finally got that through my thick skull when you guys started ransacking the basement.”

“Well, good.” Bucky paused chopping the onions and looked up at Rumlow. “Wait, are we actually having a normal conversation?”

The Alpha shrugged. “I guess so.”

“Alice would be proud of us.”

There was a pause where Bucky looked into his mate’s eyes. Bucky couldn’t feel anything through the bond, but when his mate looked at him like that he felt something warm and so comfortingly familiar that he had a sudden desire to put the knife down and let his mate hold him - like Bucky knew he wanted.

Then Brock’s phone buzzed again, and Rumlow’s eyes bulged as he looked at the screen.

“What is it?”, Bucky asked.

Rumlow swallowed. “Um, nudes. Like a whole bunch.”

“Lemme see.”

He turned the phone around and Bucky’s eyes went wide. “That’s uh…”

Brock smirked. “Yeah, looks like he decided to get his toys out. Thought he said he was going to sleep?”

Bucky picked up the knife and went back to chopping onions. “Guess he decided to do a photoshoot instead.”

“Well, I’m not complainin’”, Brock said, setting his beer down on the counter and getting up.

“He said not to disturb him,” Bucky warned.

“Yeah, and then he sent me a load of pics of him looking fuckable.”

Bucky sighed. “I wouldn’t go up there if I were you. He was pretty clear about that.”

“I’ll take my chances!” Brock called back, already halfway up the stairs.

*

Bucky was half done frying the onions when he heard footsteps on the stairs and a moment later Brock came back into the kitchen. He took his seat at the island and took another sip of his beer without a word.

“So?”, Bucky asked.

“Yeah, you were right,” Brock mumbled.

“I’m not gonna say I told you so.”

Brock snorted. “Yeah, except you just did. How’d you know, anyway?”

Bucky shrugged. “The bond feels really weird right now. Besides, he seemed mad before. What did he say?”

“Told me to go away and quit botherin’ him.”

“Huh, how about that.”

“He smelled so good …I just don’t get it.”

“Maybe he just wants space?”, Bucky suggested.

“Then what’s with the nudes?”

“Don’t know.” An idea suddenly occurred to Bucky. “Hey, maybe you should send some back?”

“What, like, right here?”

“Not in the kitchen!”

“Oh, so you can rail our Omega on the kitchen counter but I can’t get my dick out to take a picture?” Brock scoffed. “Talk about double standards.”

“Not while I’m frying onions. It’s weird.”

“Fine, I’ll go to the bathroom.”

When Brock returned, Bucky added the rest of the ingredients to the sauce and turned down the heat a little so they could simmer together.

“He reply?”, Bucky asked.

Brock shook his head and took another swig of his beer. 

“While you’re here,” Bucky said slowly. “There’s something I wanna talk to you about.”

“What’s that?”

“About the other night.”

“Yeah, what about it?”, Brock asked, leaning in the doorway.

“I’m sorry for coming into your room.”

Brock shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Just listen, ok?” 

“Fine.”

“Well, I was thinking about the stuff you talked about in therapy. How you said people in the past used you for sex because you were an Alpha. It wasn’t right, me coming like that and telling you not to say anything. I should have made sure you were okay with it.”

“I was.”

“Yeah, but still. I want to make sure you’re good, you know? Same goes for Zemo. I don’t want to do anything to hurt either of you.”

“I don’t either,” Brock said. “You’re my mates, I wanna be a good Alpha.”

“Okay, sure. Just so long as you know that you don’t have to have sex if you’re not feeling it. Neither of us is gonna mind.”

“I know that.”

“Good.”

Brock’s phone vibrated loudly in his pocket and he took it out.

“What’d he say?”, Bucky asked, turning back to the stove to stir the sauce.

“‘Get me some juice.’”

“Get it yourself, fridge is right there.”

“No, the Baron said ‘get me some juice’.”

Bucky frowned. “Well, I guess get him some then?”

Brock went to the fridge and grabbed the orange juice and went upstairs. When he returned, Bucky was draining the pasta in the sink.

“Wouldn’t let me in. Said to leave it outside the door to his room, so I did.”

As Bucky plated up the food, he heard Brock mumble something under his breath about ‘weird Omega shit’.

“What was that?”

“I dunno. Sometimes I think I get him and then it’s like…I dunno.”

Bucky slid the plate across the counter, hesitating before saying, “Like how it is with us?”

Brock shook his head. “Nah, it’s different. It’s an A/O thing, y’know? When I’m mating with him my instincts kick in and it just makes sense, but the rest of the time I have no idea what I’m doing. Like, I didn’t even know I was supposed to have a den, so how am I supposed to know what’s up with him now?”

“You think it’s an Omega thing?”, Bucky asked, twisting spaghetti around his fork before bringing it to his mouth.

“Yeah, he’s up there in his nest,” Brock mumbled. “Probably taken some of my clothes again.”

“He said he wouldn’t touch your stuff.”

“Yeah, but I’m out of boxers so they’ve got to be going somewhere.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Bucky said with a sigh. Brock raised his eyebrows at him.

“When he’s calmed down from whatever…this is.”

*

After lunch, Bucky drove into the small seaside port that was their local town. He dropped the boxes off at Goodwill and did some half-hearted shopping for DIY supplies before returning home. Brock wasn’t in the basement when he came back, and Bucky eventually found him sitting in the hallway outside the door to Zemo’s room. There was an office inside (which the Omega called his ‘study’) with a wooden ladder that led up to a little attic Zemo had turned into a cozy nest space. He’d only allowed Bucky up there once since he’d made it his own. Most of the time he slept in their bedroom, but lately he’d been spending more and more time sleeping up there by himself. And currently, the door was closed on both him and Brock, who was leaning against it looking anxious and alert.

“Watcha doing?”, Bucky asked, stopping a few feet from the Alpha.

“Nothin’,” Brock mumbled, fixing his eyes on the wooden floor.

Bucky raised his eyebrows at that. “Oh yeah?”

Brock looked up and stared back at him defiantly. “Yeah.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Fine,” Brock snapped. “I’m guarding the door, ok?”

“Why?”

“I dunno. Just feel like I’m supposed to.”

Bucky looked up at the door that Brock was leaning against. “He know you’re out here?”

“No.”

“Yes, I do!”, came an angry, though somewhat muffled response from inside. 

“And you’re okay with that?”, Bucky asked Zemo, who was clearly standing just on the other side of the door.

“The Alpha can do as he pleases, as long as he remains OUT THERE!”

“Well…ok then I guess. Bones, I’m gonna keep working downstairs, in case you wanna help out.”

“Thanks, but,” Brock gestured towards the door. “He needs me.”

*

Brock watched as Bucky walked away defeated, and went back to his spot in front of the door. The scent coming from the other side was incredible, fresh and sweet and enticing, but he knew better than to open it. His Omega needed protection, and as good as his intentions might be, he’d be risking a severe biting if he went inside too soon.

He heard a movement from the room and listened intently. His Omega must be shuffling the furniture around. His nest had to be perfect, Brock knew instinctively. And he should be perfect too - after all, the Baron deserved nothing less. Rumlow’s mind drifted to the moment his Omega would let him into the room. What was he meant to do then? Should he follow his instinct to pounce on the Sokovian, shred any clothing he was wearing, fuck him roughly and quickly wherever he happened to be?

The thought was very tempting, but maybe that wasn’t right. Maybe bursting in there, half-dressed and hard, would be the wrong thing? What if he offended the Baron, or worse, scared him? The idea of his Omega being afraid of him was almost too much to handle, and he suppressed a whine that tried to escape his throat.

It was obvious now that that’s what all this had been leading up to, even if Bucky hadn’t realized it yet. A heat. Brock had never been with an Omega in heat before. Well, not properly - Zemo’s heat had been artificial during their first mating, brought about by a cocktail of synthetic hormones which pushed his body into an unnatural, overwrought state. This was going to be different. This time, the Baron’s body had decided itself that it was time to enter heat, to allow him to become vulnerable and desperate for his mates. It’s a good thing, Brock thought. It means he feels secure. But I still don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do when it happens.

“I gotta keep you safe,” Rumlow mumbled, wondering if Zemo’s scent was being detected by any other local Alphas. He was bonded, of course, but you couldn’t be too careful. He knew rationally that nothing bad was going to happen to his mate, but he still needed to guard the door. Just in case.

He straightened up in position. He might not know what would come next, but he knew what to do now. Keeping his Omega safe, from any threat, was all he could do.

 *

Bucky spent the evening on his own in the living room learning a new song on the piano. He still wasn’t used to playing with his left hand. It didn’t have the muscle memory his right did, but it was learning. Vibranium was clever like that. He stopped, listening to the waves washing on the shore down at the beach. It was so quiet in the house. Not that his mates were loud, exactly, but it was strange how he was used to them being here with him now. He hadn’t realized that he’d gotten used to living with people again. Sure, he still appreciated the quiet sometimes, but right now he missed them and didn’t want to be on his own. 

He closed the piano lid and went upstairs. Brock was no longer sitting outside the door but anxiously pacing up and down the corridor.

“What’s going on?”

Rumlow growled at him, baring his teeth at him. “No. Stay there.”

Bucky stopped, shocked at the sudden change in the Alpha’s demeanor. “Okay.”

“Mine.”

“Huh?”

“My Omega.”

Zemo’s not just yours, Bucky thought. He’s mine too. Ours. Brock used to get territorial of the Winter Soldier, so it was strange to hear the Alpha now warning him away. But he didn’t say any of this. Brock clearly had something Alpha-related going on, and it was probably better if he didn’t get involved. 

“Right. Okay then.”

Brock didn’t respond, just stared at him with an intensity that Bucky didn’t know what to make of.

“Um…so you don’t wanna watch a movie or something?”

Brock broke eye contact and shook his head slowly before walking back to the door. “No, I’m gonna stay right here.”

Should I stay? Bucky wondered. Probably not…but part of me wants to. Maybe I should be guarding too? No, that was silly. Bucky wasn’t an Alpha, and if Brock was already this agitated with him just standing at the end of the hall, trying to join in would definitely make Brock mad.  

“Well, alright I guess. You want me to bring you some pizza or something?”

“Pizza?”, the Alpha asked, perking up.

“Yeah, I was gonna order one.”

“Pepperoni?”

“Uh huh.”

“...ok.” For a moment, the fervor in his expression seemed to fade, but then he let out a stifled growl, and went back to his pacing. 

*

When he came back up the stairs with the pizza, Brock was immediately up in his face, blocking the hallway. 

“Here,” he said, opening the box of pizza and holding it towards him like a peace offering.

Brock sniffed, clearly interested, but then looked back at the door with a whine.

“Bones, come on. I get that you feel like you need to do this, but don’t you wanna eat something?”

“Later,” the Alpha mumbled, backing away slowly.

Bucky blinked. Pizza was Brock’s favorite. He never turned it down. Not even when they’d ordered from the other pizza place and Brock said it tasted like crap, he still ate it. This was serious. 

He decided to text Zemo. 

Brock’s guarding your door. He won’t leave to eat dinner.

So? He can do what he likes.

It’s pizza.

There was a pause, and then.

Tell him you’ll guard for him while he’s eating.

You really think that’ll work?

It’s worth a try.

“Hey. Bones,” Bucky began. “If you want I could guard the door while you eat?”

The Alpha stared at him in disbelief. “ What?

“I said: I can guard the door.”

With a snarl, Brock suddenly pressed him back against the wall. Bucky was so surprised that he let him do it, even though he could have easily pushed him off. All that compact bulk and the tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes had gone dark, was hard to step away from. Bucky wasn’t quite sure what his hands would do if he touched Brock’s shoulders. 

“You think I’m fallin’ for that?”, Rumlow growled.

“...For what?”

“You’re tryin’ to trick me. Coming up here, tryin’ to tempt me away.”

Bucky was breathing heavily as his mate pressed against him, feeling their bodies flush together. Brock’s rich, smoky scent was all around him, and Bucky felt his cock hardening as his arousal grew, and without even thinking about it he leaned in and nipped at the Alpha’s neck.

“Yeah, that’s it!”, Rumlow growled, grinding his cock against him as he pressed him back into the wall. He leaned in and clamped his jaws down on Bucky’s neck. Bucky let his head fall back with a moan, baring his neck. Fuck, why did that feel so good? The pizza box fell from his hands, unnoticed.

His Alpha huffed in approval and began grinding against him with his hard cock, pawing at his jeans. Bucky pressed back against him, the arousal electric as he ground back against his Alpha in desperate, short jerks of his hips. He reached down to unfasten his pants, but his Alpha had already beaten him to it. Bucky moaned at the feeling of their cocks pressing together, hot and hard and, god it felt so good when his mate’s hand wrapped around both of them at once…

They’d done things like this before in HYDRA, when they hadn’t had time to go all the way; snatched moments in closets and alleys and safehouses, but it didn’t feel desperate like that now. It didn’t make him ache with longing even while it was happening. No, instead he felt like he wanted the Alpha to take him and do whatever he wanted with him so he pressed his hips up and let him grind against him, the head of the Alpha’s cock getting slick and shiny with precum as he frotted him. 

Brock pulled him down onto the floor with him and climbed on top of him right there. He ground against Bucky, growling as he thrust their cock’s together. Bucky stared up into his mate’s eyes, feeling a sense of need crackling through the bond, Brock’s urge to…not claim him, but something like that. To keep Bucky away from the door, and show him…

Bucky cried out as Brock flicked his thumb over the head of his cock and he lost the thread of what he’d been thinking. His mate was pressing him back, pinning him down as he writhed and bucked against his cock. If this was payback for the other night, Bucky certainly wasn’t complaining. The one thing he didn’t expect was how much he was enjoying this. His mate calling him ‘Winter’ and telling him he was going to protect him made him feel helpless and panicky, but Brock growling and frotting against him on the floor was another thing entirely.

His mate bit down on his throat and with a gasp Bucky felt himself coming over his hand. Brock continued until he also came, spilling hot cum all over Bucky’s chest. 

“Fuck,” Bucky gasped, lying back on the floor. “That was…”

Without a word, Brock stood up and walked back over to the door.

“Oh, you gotta be kidding me!”

At that moment, Bucky felt his phone vibrate and snatched it up.

Come in here. Now.

*

Chapter Text

*

Brock and James must think I’m being ridiculous , Zemo thought as he paced up and down the office. He knew he’d been irritable with his mates these last few days and his behaviour probably seemed unreasonable, but he just couldn’t help himself. He felt…strange. He was so tired all the time, but at the same time he couldn’t seem to sit still.

Once again, he climbed up the ladder to his nest in the loft and began rearranging the pillows for what felt like the hundredth time. He just couldn’t get it right . There was something missing, he still needed…yes, that was it! Carefully, he picked up Brock’s towel and folded it neatly, arranging it ceremoniously in the center of the nest. Something about it perfectly completed the layers upon layers of soft materials saturated with scent, and when Zemo climbed into the nest he immediately began to grow calm. No worries, not a care in the world; just soft comfort and the scent of his mates all around him. Finally, he was satisfied. 

When Zemo woke up a few hours later, he was hot and there was a sheen of sweat covering his skin. Oh. He knew what that meant. He was in heat, and he hadn’t even realized. He truly hadn’t thought he could still have natural ones, after all the years he’d spent on suppressants. He’d even been told explicitly by a doctor when he’d been incarcerated in Berlin that he wouldn’t be able to. Not that that had mattered to him at the time. It had simply been another fact of lifelong imprisonment that he accepted because he had no choice but to do so. 

But now, it seemed that what he’d been told was wrong. Now that they’d settled into the house somewhat, and he had a space of his own where he could be safe from the rest of the world…well, apparently his body had decided that it was time.

Two mates , Zemo thought. Two mates to satisfy me.

This was definitely going to be interesting. 

*

Without a word of warning, Rumlow quickly opened the door and climbed up the ladder to the attic nest, pulling his shirt off in his eagerness to get to Zemo. He knew the scent instinctively, and the memory of it filled him with a mix of emotions, but any fears Brock had about knowing what to do next suddenly disappeared. The Omega was ready. The Omega wanted him, and Brock let his instincts overtake him entirely.

Zemo was lying sprawled naked in the center of the bed surrounded by a carefully arranged selection of blankets and soft towels. His body was slick with sweat, and as he looked up he brushed his hair out of his eyes. 

“Fuck,” Brock exclaimed, practically drooling as he stared at their Omega.

“Are you in heat?” Bucky asked from behind Brock, as if he even needed Zemo to confirm it.

“I believe so,” Zemo panted. “It’s…very intense. I wasn’t prepared-'' his words were cut off with a moan, and he arched his back as the wave went through him. “I need you both. Right now,” he finished, when the wave subsided and he was able to speak again. 

Brock didn’t need telling twice; he stripped off the rest of his clothes and climbed onto the bed without hesitation. 

Bucky pulled off his shirt, watching as Brock’s lips trailed down Zemo’s neck to suck and lick at his skin. Their Omega’s sweet scent was so strong now, but Bucky somehow knew that Brock wasn’t going to let him near Zemo until he was ready. 

“Please, ” Zemo moaned as Brock moved down and began licking the slick from his ass, working him open. They were both naked and hard now, and Bucky could tell that Brock’s instinct to satisfy his mate was overtaking him. 

“Bucky,” Zemo gasped desperately, and Brock was surprised to hear him say their Beta’s name. “I need you too.”

Brock growled as Bucky approached the bed, suddenly defensive again. 

“It’s just James,” Zemo said, trying to reassure his Alpha as Bucky lay down beside him. “He’s our mate too.”

Brock huffed, eyeing him warily before turning his attention back to Zemo. He licked the slick from his lips, pressing his fingers into Zemo’s wet hole. His mate gasped and opened for him, and as he began to coax him Brock felt even more slick coating his fingers. Slowly, Brock slipped a finger into him and felt how ready he was. Zemo gasped, and moaned as heat coursed through his body. “Please, I need more.”

“Fuck, you smell so good, Baron,” Brock growled. “Just wanna fuck you and lick you and eat you out and fuck you all over again.”

“Can you please hurry up, then?” Zemo whined as Brock slipped another finger in easily. With each thrust, he arched his back and moaned, and through their bond Bucky felt heat washing over him like a wave.

“He really needs it,” Bucky said, “God, I can feel it, you need to-”

“Yeah, I got it,” Brock growled, pulling his fingers out. His cock was fully hard, but he gave it a few strokes before sliding into his Omega. Zemo’s reaction was instantaneous, and he moaned in pleasure, and began rocking his hips against him, instinctively trying to encourage his Alpha.

“Yes, please, moj tigric ,” he cried, thrusting against Brock needily. 

Brock growled as he began fucking into his Omega. Bucky took his chance and kissed Zemo then, licking at his scent glands, teasing Zemo’s lips open with a bite. Zemo kissed him back desperately, moaning into his mouth, and through the bond Bucky felt the feeling of Brock thrusting into him.

“You’re so strong,” Zemo panted, gripping Brock’s hips with his hands. “You could…protect me from…any other…Alpha.”

Bucky heard Brock whine loudly at that, and Bucky felt a sense of satisfaction from their Alpha, pleased that his Omega felt so safe under him.

Zemo gripped him close, hanging on to Brock as he fucked him like he would never let go. He threw his head back and cried out when Brock changed his angle slightly, allowing him to go even deeper and thrust harder into his slick, tight heat.

Fuck, they’re both so hot like this , Bucky thought, as he kissed the moans from Zemo’s lips. Brock’s instincts seemed to have completely taken over as he fucked into him; Bucky had never seen him like this before. He seemed completely wild. Bucky opened his eyes and his Omega's eyes were dark, his pupils blown with lust as he looked back at him. He could feel through the bond how much Zemo needed this, how close he was…

Zemo groaned loudly, and Bucky saw him come all over his chest, but Brock kept fucking him, because that’s what their Omega needed.

“Please, Alpha,” he begged, panting as he rode out his orgasm. “I need you to knot me.”

Brock hesitated, glancing at Bucky uncertainly. “I dunno if I can.”

“You can. He needs you to.”

As if he’d been given permission, Brock groaned and his body jerked as he came inside his mate. He buried his head in Zemo’s neck, nuzzling against him as he tried to catch his breath.

“Is he doing it?”, Bucky asked

“Yes,” Zemo gasped, looking back at Bucky hazily. “It feels so good, James.”

He closed his eyes and through the bond Bucky felt pure satisfaction and relief flowing from his mate. 

“It’s the hormones, right?”, Bucky asked. “Will it be the same with me now?”

Zemo nodded. “Yes. You smell like an Alpha to me.”

“So should we…”

“No, not yet. When he’s finished.”

Rumlow seemed to come out of his daze and looked up at Bucky. “You like watching, huh?”

“That okay?”

The Alpha smirked. “Yeah, it’s hot. I like it.” He gestured to Bucky. “Would be even better if you took your pants off, though.”

“Alright,” Bucky smiled, pulling them down. 

Brock grunted and pulled out of Zemo, his knot releasing with a little dribble of cum. Zemo turned onto his side and began nuzzling against Bucky, who gasped as Zemo thrust against him. 

“Are you hard again already?”, Bucky asked.

“Yes, of course”, the Omega said, as if this was a silly question.

“Don’t you need a minute?”

Zemo shook his head, “No, I’m ready now.” A shiver ran through his mate’s body, and Bucky felt the wave of heat coming over him again. “For you, this time.”

“Okay, then turn over so you’re facing Brock.”

Their Omega did as he was told and Bucky positioned himself behind him. He wrapped his right arm around Zemo’s chest and buried his head in the crook of his neck as he lined himself up and slowly thrust into him. Bucky felt the irresistible heat and the tightness of him, and looked up and saw Brock watching him, his Alpha’s eyes dark and aroused.

“Move. Fuck me, James,” Zemo commanded, bucking his hips back against him. 

“Alright, take it easy,” Bucky said, thrusting his hips forward to give Zemo even more of his cock to take. Bucky wasn’t small by any means, and it usually took his mate some time before his mate was ready to take his full length. Now though, Zemo seemed more than eager to take it. And from how slick and open he was from Brock, Bucky wasn’t entirely surprised.

He began thrusting into his Omega at a steady pace, nuzzling at Zemo's neck. Zemo turned his head and Bucky nudged his lips apart and plunged his tongue into his mouth. It wasn’t the best angle for a proper kiss, but Zemo returned his attentions eagerly with a needy moan, squirming his hips against him. 

“You feel so good inside me,” Zemo moaned.

Brock growled and bit Zemo’s neck, causing their Omega to cry out and thrust his hard, wet cock against his abs. 

“He gonna make you come, Omega?”, their Alpha growled.

“Y-yes,” Zemo panted, “I want it…”

“I know you do, you greedy vixen. You love it, don’t you?”

Zemo moaned loudly in response and Bucky began to thrust into him faster, his strokes growing rapid and a little rough as his own pleasure built. He gripped his mate tightly, holding him in place as he filled him with his cock. 

“Please James, please!”, Zemo cried desperately. “I need you, need you to fill me…”

Bucky moaned loudly at Zemo’s words, thrusting into him with hard, deep strokes. Each time he slid into Zemo his hips slapped against his Omega’s ass, making the flesh tremble. 

He heard Zemo cry out, and felt his Omega jerk as he came, spilling cum between him and Brock, coating their stomachs.

“I love you so much, wanna come inside you,” Bucky growled, biting his mate’s neck instinctively, claiming him.

“Yes, do it!” Zemo moaned. “Give it to me! I want you, please…”

Bucky felt his orgasm crest before washing over him, and he spilled himself inside his mate. He stayed like that, breathing heavily for a minute and holding Zemo tight. 

“Goddamn,” he panted, not pulling out yet. He wasn’t gonna knot, that wasn’t something Betas could do, but he could stay inside his mate until the sensitivity became too much. “That was…that felt...”

“Amazing,” Zemo said contentedly. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Bucky suddenly became aware again of Brock watching them and suddenly felt…not shy, exactly, but it was strange that they were saying these intimate things to one another while he remained silent. 

Has Bones ever said those words to me before? Bucky wondered. In all the long years they’d spent together, he must have said them at least once. But Bucky didn’t want to remember things from that time now.

“Did you know you were gonna have a heat?”, he asked, taking full advantage of the temporary lull to run his fingers through Zemo’s hair.

Zemo shook his head. “Not at first. The last time it happened, there was no build up to speak of. I just took the pills and then it happened. Before that…well, my last heat was almost a decade ago. I wasn’t even sure I could still have natural heats after being on suppressants for so many years. There were signs I missed. It was only when the heat was upon me that I knew what was happening. Hopefully next time I will be able to recognise these signs beforehand and be a little more prepared.”

*

After the first few hours, they fell into a rhythm. Brock would go first and knot him, and then Bucky, and then they would rest for a while. Their Alpha was knotting for longer each time now, which was just as well because the time between the waves was getting shorter and they all needed a break. Bucky didn’t know how they were going to get any sleep: perhaps they weren’t. It was times like this that he was glad that he was a super-soldier, because a regular man wouldn’t be able to keep this up for long. 

Except Brock, it seemed. The Alpha was running on instinct and seemed to be doing whatever he needed to do to satisfy their Omega. But Bucky could tell that even he was growing tired as the night went on. Luckily, it seemed that Zemo was also tiring and eventually fell asleep on his front with Brock knotting him. Bucky lay beside him, running his hands through his mate’s hair. All he could feel through the bond was a feeling of contentment as he lay concealed and safe beneath his Alpha.

Leaving his two mates to sleep, Bucky climbed down from the loft and went to clean himself up in the bathroom. At times like this he was glad they lived alone, because he could walk around naked and they could be as loud as they liked without disturbing anyone. It wasn’t like when he and Zemo had got together in Riga, with Sam in the next room. 

Had they known, even then, that they were going to bond? Bucky wasn’t sure. He’d wanted not to be alone anymore, and Zemo had been there, wanting the same thing and it had just seemed to work between them. Once they’d gotten over the frustration of the build up of tension, anyway. 

There was such a thing as base compatibility, Zemo had told him. It wasn’t a guarantee that a bond would form, but a genetic predisposition that Omegas had with certain people. Of course as an Alpha, it had been easier for Zemo to bond with Brock, but once that had happened they’d bonded almost instantly. Bucky still thought often about that moment, how they’d both been so sure it was goodbye before everything fell into place. Such love and relief as he felt his mate all around him.

He went back upstairs to find his two mates in the nest where he’d left them, but Zemo stirred as Bucky climbed back into bed.

“James?”

“I love you,” Bucky whispered, cuddling up next to him and placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Love you,” Zemo murmured in response, nuzzling against him and closing his eyes. “Sleep now.”

*

The next morning, Bucky once again untangled himself from his two mates and opened the round window next to the bed. It was already getting warm, and it was a relief to have some fresh air in the small room that smelled of sex and the mingled scents of his mates. Zemo’s was still sweet with heat scent, and Brock’s smoky Alpha musk seemed to be trying to match it in strength, so Bucky was glad for some fresh air.

Bucky found himself coming out of the haze of hormones and noticed the mess of discarded blankets, pillows, tissues and the empty pizza box on the floor. He’d made sure they’d eaten something, or the other two probably would have forgotten. Brock seemed determined to pass Zemo all the food and water that Bucky gave him, and it had been an effort to get the Alpha to have something too.

It was strange to see how obviously Brock cared for Zemo. The only person that Bucky had ever known Brock behave like that towards was Winter.  It actually came as a relief to see Brock direct his caring instinct towards their Omega. Bucky still didn’t know how to deal with Brock being affectionate towards him like that. Sex was fine, as long as it wasn’t overly tender. He didn’t mind if Brock topped him or acted dominant like he had yesterday. But if he called him Winter , if he said how he was going to protect him…well, that provoked feelings in Bucky that were upsetting and difficult for him to reconcile.

Still , Bucky thought, as he watched the Alpha curled around his Omega, it’s nice to see him looking after Zemo like that . Brock was good at caring, when he was allowed to be.

He noticed Zemo stirring, and sat down on the edge of the bed next to him. His mate sighed pleasantly, and rubbed his cheek against Bucky’s offered hand.

“Morning, James,” he murmured sleepily.

“Morning,” Bucky said, pressing a kiss to his mate’s cheek. “Do you wanna take a shower with me?”

The Omega hummed against him thoughtfully, before eventually replying “No, I don’t want to leave the nest. You go ahead.”

“Will you be okay without me?”

“Of course, I have Brock,” Zemo said, indicating their sleeping Alpha who had one arm slung protectively over Zemo’s chest.

Bucky grinned. “Ok, see you soon.”

“Don’t be too long,” Zemo repeated, kissing him in return.

*

When he returned, Brock eyed him suspiciously, but allowed him back in. 

“Why did you leave?”, Zemo asked accusingly, as soon as he saw Bucky.

“I needed a shower?” Bucky said in confusion. “You said it was fine.”

“Well, it wasn’t,” Zemo huffed, and turned away from him. “Your scent is all wrong now. You need to stay in the nest.”

“He’s been stressing out,” Brock said, “He woke me up biting me, and then started chewing on the blankets. It was weird”

Zemo flushed and turned to glare at the Alpha. “That most certainly did not happen.”

“Uh huh, right.”

“It didn’t!”

“Well, we both know the truth.”

Zemo looked like he was about to retort but then a shiver went through him and he bent double with a groan. 

“Come on,” Bucky said gently, guiding him back to the nest and climbing in with him. “We’re gonna look after you now.”

Zemo nodded, letting him push him back into the mattress and wrapping his legs around Bucky’s waist. 

*

Bucky had thought early on in the heat that there’d come a point where Zemo would be satisfied, but he seemed to be able to keep coming over and over. Not that Bucky was complaining, because it felt amazing to lose himself in a hazy blur of pleasure, tangled bodies, feeling his mates around him, blurring with them at the edges as they flowed into one another through the bond. His connection with Brock still flared only occasionally like inconsistent static, but when Bucky could feel him it was strong, and it felt like everything he’d thought he’d forgotten. 

Right now Zemo was lying sprawled between them, sleepy and sated. Knowing that it wouldn’t last for long, Bucky quickly ran downstairs to the kitchen to grab some bottled water before the next wave hit. He returned to find his Omega, thankfully, where he had left him with Brock licking the claiming bite he’d given him on the shoulder. Brock growled and looked up quickly when he heard Bucky approach, before realizing it was him and turning his attention back to Zemo.

Bucky noticed that there were faint marks on Zemo’s soft hips where the skin had started to bruise and mentally chided himself for being so rough with him. Not that his mate had minded; in fact, the opposite. He’d seemed to love them both manhandling him and being passed between them so that he was always kept full with their cocks. 

Bucky looked out the window and realized that it was night again, and wondered just how much longer the heat could possibly last.  

*

This isn’t so hard , Brock thought as Zemo moaned and bucked against him, kissing James at his side. I think I’m actually doing a good job of taking care of him. It felt right; to guard his Omega and fuck him through his heat. To make sure he had everything he needed and that he was feeling good the whole time. He didn’t want him hurting for a second. It hadn’t been like this last time; that had been just pure desperation. Now he had both his mates. and everything was ok and no one was gonna take them away from ever ever ever…

He’d forgotten how good being with Zemo in heat felt, even better than fucking him usually did. And when he came and knotted inside him, that was the best feeling in the world. Brock felt so close to him, and he could just breathe in his scent the whole time and lose himself in the feeling of being with his mate. And Bucky was right there the whole time, kissing them both and then when Brock’s knot released he just slid right in and carried on fucking Zemo’s slick, ready ass. 

Fuck, watching his two mates together was probably the hottest thing he’d ever seen. He loved when Bucky gripped Zemo’s hips and pressed him down into the mattress, fucking into him until Zemo was moaning and clenching the sheets for grip, bucking his hips back to meet ever thrust his mate gave him. 

“I’m so full with you, James,” Zemo gasped. “It feels so good.”

“Yeah, gonna fill you up,” Bucky moaned. 

“Give it to him,” Brock growled, feeling his cock already beginning to stiffen again in response as he imagined how it felt. 

Bucky nodded, seeming unable to answer, lost in the sensation of feeling as he mated their Omega. 

What does it feel like for them, in the bond? Brock wondered. He caught glimpses every so often, moments where he felt Zemo and then W- Bucky, but never both of them together. Brock realized that he’d never wanted it to be louder before, but right now he thought he could handle it without it being too much. Too overwhelming. 

He leaned in and kissed Zemo again, threading his fingers through his hair and pulling slightly to tilt his head back as he captured his mouth. When the kiss broke and his Omega opened his eyes to look at him, his pupils were blown wide.

“My Alpha,” he purred, followed by a string of Sokovian that Brock didn’t understand. 

“What’s that, Baron?”

“I just want to stay like this with the two of you fucking me,” Zemo panted. “I don’t want to have another thought ever again.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mm…yes, I’m all for you. Yours. You’re going to take care…”

“That’s right, Omega,” Brock growled, nipping at his mate’s neck. “We’re gonna take real good care of you. Just keep you like this forever.”

“Fuck, so close,” Bucky groaned.

“You gonna come?”

“Yeah, I just…”

Bucky paused his thrusts, much to the disappointment of their Omega who writhed beneath him, rocking his hips to try and get him to continue.

“Whaddaya need?”, Brock asked.

Bucky looked at him, his blue eyes tremble with something vulnerable.

“I…”

To Brock’s surprise Bucky leaned down to kiss him. 

“You,” he said, when he pulled away. “That’s what I need.”

“Need you too,” Brock mumbled. “Always.”

He felt a surge of happiness and contentment, and Brock could feel it flowing through the bond from Bucky and it felt good.

“Please,” Zemo moaned, unable to keep it to himself any longer. “James…”

“Sorry, Zemo I got you,” Bucky said, kissing Zemo as he began to thrust into him again. "Don’t worry. We’re both here, ok?"

Zemo nodded, pressing his hard, leaking dick between their bodies. Brock reached between them wrapping his hand around his Omega’s cock. Zemo whined and thrust up into it. Bucky was fucking him hard and fast now, and Brock was surprised that he could take that, that he met ever thrust eagerly and never seemed to tire. There seemed to be no limit to the sensation he desired, it was as if he wanted to be completely overwhelmed. Instinctively, Brock bit down on his mate’s neck and he felt Zemo’s cock pulse and spill into his hand as Bucky cried out and came inside him. 

Zemo kept James close, his legs wrapped around him to keep him in place as the two of them caught their breath. But almost the moment he pulled out Zemo gave a moan and began begging them again to fuck him. 

*

Zemo opened Netflix and pressed play on the next episode of the historical drama, ‘My Daughter’s Alpha’. The heat was starting to slow down now, and there were periods between waves where he was too exhausted to do anything, but was still too restless to sleep. Bucky was asleep, but Brock seemed to be feeling similarly to himself and was grooming one of the bites on his neck. 

“Turn that chick show off,” he grumbled after a few minutes.

“No. It’s one of the only series I’ve found with halfway decent representation,” Zemo said, not pausing the episode.

“We should watch Game of Thrones instead,” the Alpha complained. “It’s awesome. People get beheaded in  it.”

Zemo huffed. “That’s precisely why I don’t want to watch it while I’m in heat.”

Brock leaned into Zemo’s neck and carried on licking the bite to heal it. “Aright, fine. If that’s what you want.”

“Thank you.”

But when his Alpha finished, satisfied that he’d done the job of healing bite marks, Brock seemed to start taking an interest in the story.

“What’s she talkin’ about she ‘accepts his favour’?”

“Lady Heatherton is referring to the fact that Lady Astley accepted the Marquee’s handkerchief,” Zemo said, not taking his eyes from the screen.

“Yeah, so?”

“So, it had his scent on it, and she accepted it. Which means they’ve started courting.”

Brock snorted and rolled over. “Why don’t they just fuck?”

Zemo rolled his eyes. “Because they’re the heirs to two of the most powerful families in Europe.”

Brock frowned. “So they really used to do all this courting and arranged marriage stuff for people like us?”

Zemo paused the show and turned to face his mate. “The nobility has always had arranged marriages,” he replied. “Bonding just makes it a little more…complicated. You can’t choose who you bond to.”

“So if we were alive in the 18th century…”

19th century, Brock. The story is set in 1816.”

“Yeah, exactly. You said eighteenth.”

“Nevermind. What were you going to say?”

“If we were alive then, they’d arrange for you to marry me because I’m an Alpha?”

“No, definitely not.”

“Why not?”

“Well, you’re a man for a start.”

“Oh, right.”

“And you’re not a European aristocrat.” 

“Hey, I’m European! Kinda. Italy’s in Europe, ain’t it?”

“True, but how many Kings, Dukes, Barons , can you count in your lineage?”

Brock looked crestfallen. “So we couldn’t’ve been together?”

Zemo tilted his head to one side thoughtfully. “Well, it depends. Lots of people bonded and then eloped together. But others who were already married, often with children, had ‘arrangements’.”

“What’s that?”

“Their bondmate might be a member of the household. It was easier that way. It just wouldn’t be recorded as part of an official history. It would be different if they weren’t bonded though.”

“Like how?”

“Well, aristocratic households in Sokovia would have a…concubine? No, that’s not it. More akin to a valet or a lady’s maid. I’m not sure if there’s an equivalent word in English, but a household member whose job it was to take care of people like us, as well as their regular duties. It’s strange saying this out loud. It’s not something that was openly talked about where I came from.”

“So…you had a person like that?”

Zemo shook his head. “I wish that had been the case. My father was very against this tradition. He thought it was backwards, which meant I was put on heat suppressants almost as soon as I was diagnosed as an Omega.”

“My family could never afford them. You were lucky.”

Zemo shook his head. “No, that wasn’t my experience. Even with the ‘right’ dosage, the ones I was made to take were awful. I refused to keep taking them after a few months because I simply couldn’t bear it.”

“Still wish I’d been given them.”

“Why?”

“So I could’ve been in control. I need to know when it’s gonna happen so I can prepare for it.”

Zemo sighed. “I can understand that, I suppose. I just wonder how much of that need for control you have comes from fear of what will happen if you don’t take them.”

“Well, it’s not the same for you,” Brock grumbled. “You’re not gonna go crazy and hurt someone if you’re in heat.”

“But neither are you, Brock. That’s not what happens in rut.”

“What do you know about it?”

“Come now, let's not argue anymore.”

“Not arguing. Just thinkin’ about stuff.”

Zemo kissed him on the lips in a reconciliatory gesture. After a moment, his Alpha gave a little huff, before kissing him back, the previous conversation forgotten. 

“I’m yours, moj tigric,” Zemo said, pulling back gently and stroking Brock’s face. 

“Hey, what about me?”, Bucky yawned sleepily, opening his eyes.

“And yours too, of course,” Zemo chuckled. 

Bucky squinted at the laptop screen. “You watching that show again?”

“Yes,” Zemo said, hitting play on the episode.

Bucky propped himself up on one arm to watch. “Is this the one where the Duchess tries to marry Mary off to the Austrian Omega guy?”

“Spoilers!”, their Alpha hissed. 

Zemo laughed. “I thought you didn’t care, Brock?”

“I don’t,” their mate grumbled. “But if I have to watch it, I don’t wanna have it spoiled, y’know?”

*

“Fuck, it’s coming” Brock grunted.

Zemo was biting his shoulder, hard, but Brock didn’t mind. He had his Omega’s hands pinned over his head, but his mate was still showing that he was far from submissive right now. He gasped as he felt the sensation of the knot releasing, before collapsing on top of his mate and releasing his caged wrists. 

The Omega seemed dazed for a minute, before he began wriggling beneath Brock, trying to push him off. 

“Take him,” he mumbled to Bucky, as he collapsed back against the pillows mounded against the headboard.

Bucky pulled the Omega towards him and held him on his lap. “You like us sharing you like this, huh?”, he said softly. 

Zemo nodded, drunk on the rush of heady hormones. He quickly began rocking against Bucky, taking his cock all the way to the base. 

“Yeah, I can tell,” Bucky said, brushing Zemo’s hair out of his eyes. “Feels real good, don’t it?”, 

“Mm.”

Brock saw that Bucky’s expression was suddenly one of concern as he watched his mate. “Zemo? You ok?”

Zemo shook his head, slowing his movements. “I need to stop now.”

Brock felt his heart miss a beat. Had they done something wrong? Was it something Bucky said? Had they…hurt him? 

“I just…need a moment,” Zemo said, climbing off and laying down next to Bucky on his side. Brock watched as Buckyand closed his eyes and began stroking him. He was unsure of what his mate was doing until he realized that Bucky was probably trying to tune into his bond with Zemo. 

But Brock didn’t know what to do. He suddenly felt shut out, unable to help his mate. 

This is all my fault , he thought angrily. Should've taken better care of him, you’re such a bad Alpha.

To his surprise, Bucky took his hand and shook his head slightly. “Not your fault.”

“What can I do?”

“Just go get him some water, I think.” 

“Okay.”

Brock went over to the dresser and grabbed one of the bottles and a snack bar. He quickly handed it to Bucky, who passed it to Zemo who took the water and drank half of it at once.

“What’s up?”, Bucky asked after a few minutes had passed.

Zemo turned to face them, eyes still closed. “I’m exhausted. My energy dropped very suddenly. Hormone fluctuation, perhaps.”

“Or low blood sugar,” Bucky said, handing him a cereal bar. “Come on, eat this.”

I should be taking better care of him , Brock thought anxiously as he watched Zemo eat. He had a sudden, instinctive urge to take his Omega down to the basement, to hide him somewhere safe where he could guard him, before he told his Alpha brain to shut up. He didn’t really want to take his Omega away from his other mate. Bucky was so good, he knew exactly what to do. Brock watched as he held Zemo in his arms and stroked him gently. 

Brock realised after a moment, that the other thing he’d found strange was that they’d just stopped right in the middle of sex. He hadn’t really known that you could just…stop, if you wanted to. You didn’t have to just keep going until you finished. Bucky wasn’t mad at Zemo for ruining the mood, he just wanted to make sure their Omega was ok. Brock realized that if it had been him that said ‘stop’, Bucky wouldn’t have gotten mad at him. Neither would the Baron.

“You wanna get in here?,” Bucky said, turning to look at Brock. 

Brock nodded, and came around to Zemo’s other side, placing an arm over both his mates. Zemo snuggled up against him, and inhaled against his neck when he caught his scent. 

They’re amazing, Brock thought. Still don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but I get to be with them. Maybe that’s enough for now.

*

Time became a blur to Zemo as he was passed between his mates, losing track of who was even fucking him. All he knew was that he felt full and satisfied and his mates were with him and everything was good. James had left the nest at one point, and he’d had a sudden energy drop but apart from that everything had been amazing. They’d given him everything he’d needed, and more.

He’d been riding Brock, and the Alpha had knotted him, forcing him to keep still and straddle him until his knot subsided. In the meantime James had stroked his nipples, teased him and kissed him long and tender with his soft lips. Zemo loved James’s lips so much, he loved all of him. James was sleeping beside them again now while Brock still held him on his lap. 

Zemo looked back at his Alpha, at his long lashes and dark eyes, his messy hair, his muscles gleaming with sweat. 

Brock wears his pain on his skin , Zemo thought as he traced the raised ridges of scar tissue along his cheek. His Alpha closed his eyes at the touch. It looks violent, but all I can think is that I can’t believe he survived what happened to him. Like James, really.

“Is this ok?”, Zemo asked.

“Uh huh.”

“What does it feel like?”

Brock shrugged. “Not much, can’t really feel there.”

Zemo leaned in and kissed him again, gasping as he felt the Alpha’s knot shift inside him. “Brock,”

“Hm?”

I love you. Zemo hesitated. “Nothing, I just like saying your name.”

Brock frowned. “Really? Always thought it was kinda goofy.”

“No, I like it. It means ‘badger’ in Middle English.”

“Huh, how about that…”

“Brock.”

“Uh huh?”

Zemo smiled. “It feels good, what you’re doing. Thank you for being here for me.”

“You're my mate,” Brock said simply. “Wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.”

*

Chapter Text

*

Zemo spent the next two days in his nest recovering from his heat. He remained asleep for most of that time, waking only when his mates brought him food and water. They mostly left him be, coming to cuddle him occasionally before he grumbled about them being in the nest and started trying to bite them. He finally got up on the third day feeling refreshed and very much in need of a bath. 

After a good long soak in the tub, he got out and wrapped a soft bathrobe around him. Yes, he definitely felt a lot more like himself again. He wiped the steam from the mirror and stared at his reflection. He still looked tired, and he was surprised to see the scruff on his face. He considered shaving, but his mates rather seemed to like it so after a moment of deliberation he decided to leave it.

He reached into the cabinet and dabbed oil from a bottle onto his neck and wrists. He knew for a fact that his Alpha wasn’t going to be happy about him wearing scent blockers, and neither would James for that matter. But, they did have therapy today, which meant he had to be among people, and he didn’t want anyone picking up on his lingering heat scent. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed by it, but Brock was territorial enough as it was and he didn’t want to have to deal with anyone, especially other Alphas , making comments. 

Not that it’s very likely , Zemo thought, tracing one of the fading bite marks on the curve of his neck. It’s very obvious that I’m bonded. Usually such things wouldn’t be on his mind, because there weren’t many others like them where they lived. But since the practice that Alice worked at specialized in bonded clientele, he wanted to make sure that it wasn’t so noticeable.

He made his way downstairs still in his robe and went to the kitchen where he began making himself some coffee. He used a Turkish coffee pot and made it in the unfiltered way that was traditional in Sokovia. It seemed that he was feeling a little more nostalgic than usual this morning, and it took him by surprise. It had been a long time since he’d felt anything like that. At least he wasn’t going so far as to read his fortune in the coffee sediment.

He felt his Alpha come up behind him and slide his arms around his waist. “Mornin’ Baron,” he mumbled, placing a kiss on his neck. 

“Mm. Good morning to you too, Brock,” he hummed. 

He felt his mate stiffen and pull back, wiping his lips. “You wearing blockers?”

“Yes,” Zemo said, turning to face him and tilting his head to one side. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“No, it just tastes bad,” Brock complained, rubbing at his lips with the hem of his dressing gown. Zemo recognised it as actually belonging to James. He’d practically bought James a whole new wardrobe when they moved in together. That didn’t stop his mate wearing anything more interesting than jeans and a t- shirt most of the time, but it was what he was most comfortable in apparently. 

“I suppose I should have given you some warning, moj tigric ,” Zemo said, taking a sip of his coffee and walking over to the dining table to sit. “But you didn’t leave me any opportunity.”

Brock grunted in acknowledgement and poured himself a cup and followed him over. “You feelin’ better?”, he asked.

Zemo sighed. “Yes, finally. I probably won’t have another heat for at least a few months now.”

The Alpha smirked. “Wasn’t so bad.”

Zemo met his eyes with a smile of his own, “Not at all.”

Brock toyed with the shopping list that Zemo had left on the table nervously. “So, um…I was ok?”

“Of course you were,” Zemo said, holding out his hand, palm face up. He’d learnt his lesson about forcing such gestures on his mate, and instead waited to see if he would take the offer. “Perfect.”

“Hmph. Good,” Brock mumbled, averting his eyes and taking a swig of his coffee. Zemo noticed that he tended to do that when he was feeling overwhelmed, and not for the first time wondered what his mate was feeling through the bond. Right now, from his end,  the bond felt like little more than a blur of vague feelings. Like looking through a fogged up pane of glass. It seemed to clear when the Alpha took his hand and held it, crystallizing into a feeling of satisfaction. His mate was pleased that he’d taken good care of him. He supposed he could have guessed that, but it was different to actually feel how much his mate cared about him, how much he wanted to protect him and keep him safe.

Moj tigric ,” Zemo whispered, leaning in to kiss him. 

Brock cupped his face, kissing him softly in a way that made Zemo feel like he was melting into him. Perhaps it was their bond, stronger between them now, but whatever was helping this feeling along, Zemo wasn’t going to question it. Brock nuzzled at his neck, the stubble on his chin brushing the soft skin. 

“Still don’t like the scent blocker,” he huffed.

“That’s too bad.”

The Alpha whined, clearly wanting to lean in and bite. “Shower when we get home?”

Zemo chuckled. “As long as you stop complaining until then, hm?”

“Deal.”

*

“So, how was your week?”, Alice asked, opening her notebook to begin the session.

Zemo was sitting in between his two mates on the sofa. For once, they didn’t seem to be keeping as far away from one another as possible and were sitting quite comfortably. James was leaning back, actually relaxed, and Brock didn’t look as if he was about to bolt out the door.

“I went into heat, rather unexpectedly,” he answered. “It was my first natural one in years.”

“Wow, that must have been a big deal for you. How did that go?”

Zemo smiled and looked at his two mates. “It went well. They were both amazing and took great care of me.”

“How do you feel now?”

“Closer to them. The bond feels stronger, as well.”

Alice nodded, turning her attention to Brock. “How was it for you?”

“Had some Alpha stuff going on,” Brock replied. “ Wanted to guard him all the time. But yeah, it was good.”

“I’m pleased to hear that,” their therapist replied, writing something down. “And it's normal for Alphas to find that their behaviour changes, in response to their mate’s cycle. Zemo may find that he experiences similar changes when you’re in rut, Brock.”

“I’m on suppressants,” Brock said tightly. 

“He’s stressed about it,” Zemo said. 

“Are you?”, Alice asked.

Brock hesitated for a moment before mumbling. “Yeah, kinda.”

Zemo rolled his eyes. “An understatement.”

“Well, perhaps when it’s time for you to schedule one, that is something we can discuss?”

Brock shrugged. “Yeah, ok, I guess.”

“Would that be helpful for you?”

“I dunno,” Brock said, glancing at Zemo. “I’ll give it a shot, though.”

“Can I ask how you found Zemo’s heat, James?”, Alice asked, turning her attention to their other mate.

Bucky smiled. “Yeah, sure. It was good, like Zemo said. And I felt okay, being with Brock. I think I realized something, actually.”

“What was that?”

“I really liked seeing Brock taking care of Zemo. A few weeks ago it was kind of like he was still trying to take care of me as Winter , but I feel like now he’s starting to see me for me, y’know?”

“How does that land with you, Brock?”

Brock was silent for a moment before he said. “I wanna take care of both of you.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want you to,” Bucky said. “The thing is, I don’t need you to. Winter did, I don’t. That’s the difference.”

“I kind of knew that,” Brock admitted. “And I don’t wanna treat you in a way that makes you unhappy, so I’ll try to...”

“You can if I ask you to,” Bucky said, shooting their Alpha a small smile. “But I don’t need you to tell me you're gonna protect me, and that no one’s gonna take me away, and things like that.”

“Ok, I won’t say that stuff then,” Brock agreed. “But I was thinking,” he glanced at Bucky. “I’m really trying to see who you are now, right? I know you’re not…” he trailed off and looked down at the floor.

“Go ahead, Brock,” Alice said.

“I know he’s different now,” Brock said, addressing Alice this time. “I get that. But the thing is, the last time I saw him was at the Triskelion when I was shouting at him to run away. And the next time I see him, it’s years later and he just shows up at my door, a completely different person.”

Brock sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t wanna upset him or nothing by treatin’ him like he’s someone else. It just…doesn’t add up in my head. Doesn’t make sense.”

Alice nodded thoughtfully, writing a note in her book. “What I’m hearing you say is that you feel like there’s a disconnect between the person that James was when you knew him, and the person that he is now?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“What do you think would help you to connect the two?”

“I dunno.”

Alice turned her attention to Bucky. “What do you think, James?”

Bucky sighed. “It’s still kind of hard to acknowledge that that was me, y’know? Most of the time it doesn’t feel like it, but I still did those things so…” He shrugged. “Anyway, that stuff is for my other therapist.”

“Would you consider talking about the time after you were no longer in HYDRA? It might help Brock connect the two parts of you.

“Yeah, I guess”, James agreed. He turned to Zemo, who squeezed his hand reassuringly. “Zemo knows some of this, we’ve talked about it before.”

“I think it will help,” Zemo said, turning to Brock. “It certainly helped me understand him better.”

The Alpha nodded, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Ok then.”

“So…trynna think where to start,” Bucky started slowly. "I was in the US for a while after the Triskelion. I went to Washington DC and saw the Cap stuff in a museum. And there were photos of me, but not really me. I figured maybe the part of me that knew Steve Rogers was the ‘James Buchanan Barnes’ part.

“Who did you think you were at that time?”, Alice asked.

“Winter. The Winter Soldier. I wasn’t ‘The Asset’ because I wasn’t part of HYDRA any more.

“When did that start to change for you?”

“Sometime when I was in Europe. I did like my handler said and ran away. Stowed away on a ship to Italy. I wanted to know if HYDRA was really gone, and I wanted answers about who I was. All of the old safehouses were empty, and everything useful had been burned. So, I just kept on the move and started writing down everything I could remember. From Italy I went to Switzerland, Sokovia, Hungary; before eventually ending up in Romania. I was trying to piece together as much as I could, while trying to figure out how to be a person again.”

Alice was silent for a moment before she said, “What did learning how to be a person again mean for you, James?”

“It meant having to take care of myself. There wasn’t someone looking after me anymore, so I had to find my own food and decide what I was going to do each day. And if I was going out around people I had to remember to do things like shower and behave like a normal person so I wouldn’t stand out.”

“That sounds like it must have been a big adjustment for you.”

Bucky nodded. “Oh yeah, I felt like I was lost most of the time. HYDRA had always given me clear mission parameters, so now that there was no one to tell me what to do, everything was overwhelming. Like just ordering from McDonalds or going to a store. I had to scout the location to see how it worked, what I was supposed to do. Money wasn’t really a problem, they’d left a lot behind in safehouses so I was able to stay in crummy hotels, apartments sometimes, but never for too long.”

Zemo noticed that Brock was shooting furtive glances at Bucky, but he couldn’t tell what he was thinking of all of this. This wasn’t anything new to Zemo, but to their Alpha it was completely new information.

“Did you miss your mate during that time?”

Bucky seemed to think about this for a moment before saying, “Yeah, at the start. I’d never been away from him for so long before. When I was in cryo, it was like being asleep. No, deeper than sleep. It didn’t feel like any time had passed at all. It really hurt, being apart. But after a while I started to remember more and more, and I just felt angry about what had been done to me. So I tried to pretend like he didn’t exist.”

“Did you feel angry with him?”

“If it hadn’t been for our bond, they wouldn’t have been able to keep me there,” James said slowly. “So yeah, I was angry with him. I think part of me will always be angry about that.”

“‘M sorry,” Brock mumbled, looking down at the floor. “Don’t know what else to say.”

“I know you are,” Bucky replied, looking over at him. “I can’t say I forgive you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you now.”

Brock shook his head. “See, that’s what I don’t get. How can you want that if you’re angry and you can’t forgive me?”

“Part of me feels that way, but a bigger part of me loves you and wants us to be together,” Bucky replied. “HYDRA couldn’t keep us apart, and we both survived that, so I figure that any problems we have we can deal with together.”

Brock nodded, and seemed to be thinking about everything Bucky had just said.

“You don’t have to respond if you don’t want to, Brock,” Alice said after a minute of silence.

The Alpha nodded. “Yeah, I’m just thinkin’ things through. You can go ahead and talk about somethin’ else.”

“Okay,” Alice said, glancing down at her notes. “Well, I’d like to suggest some homework for you three this week. Would that be alright?”

“What’s the homework?”, James asked.

“Spending some more time getting to know one another,” Alice said. “That goes for Helmut, too.”

Zemo frowned. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“Well, it seems like you and Brock haven’t spent much time together.”

“We do a lot together.”

“Outside of sexual activity.”

Zemo tilted his head to one side. “Oh, I see. That’s a fair point.”

Alice smiled. “Maybe you should go on some dates? Get to know one another a little better.”

*

A few days later, Bucky came into the bedroom he shared with Zemo (and now sometimes Brock too), to find his Alpha staring at two flat, gift wrapped boxes on the bed. 

“What’s this?”, Bucky asked, coming to stand next to him. 

“Dunno. I just came in,” Brock said. He looked at the label on one of the bows. “This one’s for you, Buck.”

Bucky smiled. He kind of liked Brock calling him that. Ever since Sam had started calling him that too, it had stopped being Steve’s nickname for him, and thus stopped being painful. He untied the red bow, and removed the lid of the creamy white box. Inside was a brand new suit that looked expensive and a folded up note that read. “Dear James, please consider wearing this for our date tonight. Love, Zemo.” 

He took it out and walked over to the closet and opened it. There was a full length mirror on the inside of the door, and when Bucky held the suit jacket up to himself it looked as if it would fit perfectly.

“Guess Zemo went all out, huh?”, Bucky said.

Brock nodded, still staring at his own which was still in the box. “Guess so.”

“You know Zemo spends money like it’s nothing, right?” Bucky said softly. “This isn’t a big deal to him.”

Brock carefully moved the box to the side and sat down on the bed. “Yeah, but it is to me. I’ll never be able to pay him back if I keep taking stuff like this from him.”

Bucky sat down on the bed next to him. “You don’t have to pay him back.”

Brock shook his head. “Don’t know what he’s gonna expect in return.”

“Look at it like this,” Bucky said. “This is Zemo’s way of saying that he’s in it for the long haul. He wants to show that he cares about you by giving you nice things.” 

Brock huffed, trailing his fingers over the sleek black fabric of the suit. “How do you get him so good?”

Bucky shrugged. “Takes practice, believe me. And half the time I’m relying on our bond to tell me what’s up.”

“I’m not used to all this,” Brock said, carefully taking the suit out and unfolding the jacket on his lap. 

Bucky smiled. “Yeah, me neither. My family was pretty well off back in the day, but money was still something we worried about.”

“Oh, don’t even get me started. You know, HYDRA didn’t let us have our own bank accounts?”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Bucky said. “They didn’t want anyone to leave.”

“Yeah, exactly. It was easier, but then when everything fell apart? I had no idea how to manage it.” He paused, before saying sheepishly. “Still don’t, if I’m honest.”

“That why the suit is a lot?”

“Dunno. It’s probably part of it, I guess.” As Bucky watched Rumlow gazing at the new clothes, he felt something suddenly in their bond. Was it sadness? Frustration? No… it was anxiety. Just for a moment, Bucky felt the stab of nervousness his mate was concealing deep inside.

“Hey,” He said softly, sliding on the bed next to the Alpha. “What’s the matter, Bones?”

“If he got me this kinda suit…” he said quietly. “Where’s he gonna take us, Buck?”

“Somewhere fancy?” 

“Yeah.”

“You’re not okay with that?”

“Listen, Buck. I ain’t been anywhere fancier than a Denny’s in years. Few months ago I was stealin' beef jerky and nachos from the bodega and now he thinks I'm gonna fit right in with royalty?"

“Royalty?” Bucky chuckled softly, but then felt a twang of embarrassment in the bond. “You’ll be with me, and with Zemo. Being Zemo’s mate is kind of like being royalty, right? Would make you… Baron Consort or something.”

“‘Consort’?” Brock asked. “Ain’t that a prostitute?”

Bucky laughed, and even Bones cracked a smile. “Fine then. Be a Prince.”

“I’m no Prince-”

“Why not?” Bucky smoothed his mate’s hair. “You’ve had to go undercover before. Pretend this is your mission - you’re playing the part of a Prince, and you have to fit in with all the celebrities and royalty.”

“I don’t feel much like a Prince,” Brock scoffed.

Bucky shook his head softly. “Maybe I can help you play the part, then? I can start by getting you something to help you relax, your highness?”

Brock cocked an eyebrow in confusion, then glanced over at the door. “I guess I could use a beer…”

Bucky smirked. “No, I mean…” he trailed off, kneeling on the floor between Brock’s parted legs.

His mate’s eyes went wide, and Bucky couldn’t help noticing that his dark eyes grew even darker. “Oh you wanna…are you sure?”, he asked. 

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure, my Prince.”

“Because that sounds real good. I just don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t want.”

“Oh believe me,” Bucky said, looking up at him as he unbuckled Brock’s belt “I want to. And since you’re His Royal Highness Prince Brock of New Jersey, you get to tell me how you want me.”

“Heh,” Brock laughed softly, and Bucky felt a flash through their bond again - Bones was relaxing, just as he hoped. “Then you can use your mouth on me. If you wanna.”

Bucky felt arousal running through him as he slowly took the tip of his Alpha’s stiffening cock in between his lips. He was rewarded with the sound of a groan from Brock, and Bucky looked up at his mate as he took even more of him into his mouth. 

“Oh fuck, that’s…” Brock gasped, running his hand through Bucky's hair. He didn’t pull, though Bucky got the impression that he badly wanted to. 

Bucky pulled off of the Alpha, licking the full length of his shaft as he did. “Princes don’t swear like sailors.”

“An’,” Brock grinned. “My subjects don’t get to tell me how to-” Bucky swallowed him down again and he moaned. “Aww fuck that’s so good!”

Bucky hummed at the praise, feeling his own cock twitch in his suddenly too-tight jeans. He was taking his time, and it wasn’t long before his Alpha's cock reached full hardness. Remembering how much Brock liked his balls being played with, Bucky reached his right hand between his thighs and began to palm them. 

The Alpha rolled his hips forward, thrusting forward slightly to see if Bucky would take it. Bucky took it eagerly, the idea that Brock was being so cautious making him want to see how far he could push him before he really lost control and gave in to his instincts. But first, he wanted to tease him a little.

Bucky pulled back with a wet pop, licking precum from his reddened lips. “You like that, Prince Brock?”

Rumlow groaned, hand clenching Bucky’s shoulder. “Yeah, keep going, that’s… a royal proclamation!”

“How bad do you want my mouth on you, highness?”

“So bad, you have no idea,” the Alpha whined, rocking his hips forward. “Please…”

“Okay, but only if you keep talking while I’m doing it. I need to know I’m doing it just how my Prince likes it.”

“Fuck, okay,” the Alpha panted, and Bucky was pleased to hear a little moan escape his throat when he swallowed him slowly, all the way to the base.

“Oh, fuck that feels…” Brock gasped. Bucky paused, waiting for the Alpha to gather his thoughts. “Your mouth is so hot and…and wet and, fuck I can’t believe you can take it all!”

Bucky felt a shiver of desire run through him and shifted where he knelt on the floor to try and give his hard cock some relief. But all he succeeded in doing was making it rub against the denim material of his jeans. 

“Want you, want you so much,” Brock moaned, his hand fisting Bucky’s hair now. “Your mouth on me, taking my cock… Jus’ like that!”

Bucky tightened his grip on Brock’s balls ever so slightly, before releasing them and beginning to stroke the sensitive underside right at the base of his Alpha’s cock where his knot usually formed. 

“Yes, oh fuck, please! Do that again, please…” his mate whined, his hips stilling instantly as he waited for Bucky to do what he wanted with him. “Want-want you to touch it there, so much…”

Bucky pulled back, taking his mate’s cock in his hand before tilting his head so that he could lick and suck directly on those sensitive glands at the base to see if he could get them to swell. Brock was quieter now, little gasps escaping his lips, but Bucky could tell from the way that his cock was stiff and dripping precum that he was close. 

“You gonna cum, your highness?”, he asked, pulling off.

“Y-yeah,” Brock gasped. “I wanna cum, please…”

“Cum in my mouth.”

“S-sure?”

Bucky nodded, taking the Alpha’s cock fully and sucking to show that he really meant it. 

The Alpha’s hips jerked and Bucky felt it swell and spill, making his Alpha come undone. He swallowed it down, and then pulled off slowly.

“Did you cum in your pants?”, Brock panted.

“Yeah,” Bucky admitted. “I guess you shouldn’t be the one worried about embarrassing yourself in front of royalty! We should take a shower, before getting dressed, huh?”

*

“You look handsome,” Bucky said, watching Brock turn to view himself in the mirror. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Like a prince.”

Brock grinned. “Shut up.”

Bucky smirked, coming over to him and adjusting his tie. “But you do .” 

Brock blushed and loosened it again. “We should go, don’t wanna be late for the Baron.”

Zemo was waiting down by the car when they arrived. 

“Ordinarily, I would have met you at the restaurant, but I thought it best not to violate the terms of my parole for the sake of a romantic evening.”

Bucky went over to him and slid his hands around his waist. Zemo was wearing a dark purple suit, shirt and tie. “You like this color, huh?”

Zemo smirked. “I thought that was obvious.”

Bucky leaned in and kissed his mate softly on the lips. “It suits you.”

“Well, are we going or what?”, Brock said, opening the door of the car. “I’m starving.”

*

Brock knew that Bucky had done his best to make him feel comfortable. It had worked for a while, but as soon as they walked into the fancy restaurant, all his anxieties came flooding back. He felt like everyone was staring at him, as if they could see how uncomfortable he was in the fancy-ass suit the Baron had made him wear. Like they knew that he was just junkyard trailer trash who had absolutely no right being in there unless he was working in the back washing pots. When the waiter came over to take their orders, he almost expected to be thrown out. 

There was a woman at the table across from them wearing a tiara for fuck's sake. 

“Such an ostentatious display of wealth,” Zemo commented, glancing over at her. “She’s clearly trying to impress her companion.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows at him. “Ain’t that what you’re doing? Peacocking?”

"I’m just taking you both out for a nice evening, James,” Zemo said primly, pouring himself a glass of red wine. “Next time, you or Brock can choose where we go.”

Brock thought about where he would have chosen as he toyed with his food. He hadn’t been on many dates in his life. Donny had taken him out to a bar once or twice, but he didn’t wanna think about that asshole. He hadn’t really gone out with Steve either, because no one had known that they were together. And with Winter…Brock didn’t think he could call any of what had done ‘dates’.

He looked over at Bucky who was laughing at something the Baron had just said. This was probably a little fancy for him too, but he still seemed like he was enjoying himself. He couldn’t help feeling a little mad at both of them, for making him come here. He just wanted to leave. He should have brought his cigarettes, because at least then he could’ve gone outside for a smoke. Brock drank some of his wine. The Baron had been keen on trying this vintage, but to Brock it didn’t taste like anything special.

He’d finished his glass and was pouring another when he became aware that the Baron was asking him something.

“Huh?”, Brock grunted. 

“I said: maybe we can talk?”

“‘Bout what?”

The Baron tilted his head to one side as if Brock was puzzling him. “Well, Alice said that you and I should get to know each other a little better so, maybe we should ask each other some questions?”

Brock shrugged. “Alright, I guess.”

Zemo smiled. “Would you like to do me first?”

Brock raised his eyebrows at him. “You sure about that Baron? This is a public place.”

Bucky nudged his elbow. “Get your mind out of the gutter and play the game.”

“Alright, alright. So…where’d you grow up?”

“On my family’s estate, which was in the mountains above Novi Grad.”

“Sounds fancy”, Brock said, having expected him to say something like that.

Zemo nodded. “It was. I still hated it, though.”

“Why?

“I was lonely.”

“You didn’t have no brothers or sisters?”

“No, it was just me.”

“Huh. I had loads. My family was Catholic.”

“Mine also, but my parents couldn’t stand to be in the same room as one another.”

Zemo took another bite of his food and said, “Ask me another.”

Brock scratched his head. “Uhhh okay. Favourite sex position?”

Zemo smirked. “When I’m in the middle fucking James and you knot me from behind. Whatever the word for that is. Or when you’re fucking me and James fucks my mouth, that’s also very enjoyable. I just like to be in between you”

Brock shook his head. “Now I’m thinking about it…”

“Therapist said you guys had to talk about stuff other than sex,” Bucky chastised. 

“Okay. If you could go anywhere, where would you go?”

Zemo thought about this for a minute before he said. “I’ve been to a lot of places.”

Brock nodded. “Yeah, us too.”

“If I could choose anywhere, I would return to Sokovia. As it was. It was so beautiful.”

“You miss it, huh?”

“So much. I don’t have the words.”

Brock didn’t know what to say to that, but luckily James had already taken the Baron’s hand and as he watched a look passed between them that he didn’t understand. He wished that he could just know what they were both feeling, like they seemed to for each other. 

“Sorry”, Brock mumbled awkwardly.

Zemo shook his head. “Don’t be. I’m happy with you, that’s what matters.”

Brock drained the last of his wine. “I’d go to Italy,” he said after a moment.

“You’ve never been?”

He shook his head. “Nope. I think my family was originally from Napoli. So I’d go there.”

Bucky frowned, a thoughtful look coming into his expression. “I swear we went to Italy..”

“Never been”, Brock repeated.

“Really?” Bucky said sceptically, as though something didn’t add up. “Huh, I guess not.”

“I think you went there on a mission with Jack.”

“Would that be Jack Rollins?”, Zemo interrupted. “I believe that James has mentioned him before.”

Brock didn’t want to think about the fact that Jack had gone down for what they did, and that he hadn’t had the guts to visit him in prison, even after all this time. Jack would’ve visited him, if their positions had been reversed, because he wasn’t a fucking coward. He was a good guy, and out of all of them it didn’t make sense that he was the one paying for their crimes. He suddenly wished he had something stronger in his fancy glass than just some wine.

“Yeah,” Brock said stiffly. “That’s him.”

Bucky looked at him, and opened his mouth to say something before changing his mind.

“Go ahead,” Brock said. “I know you wanna ask me something.”

Bucky nodded, and then said. “Fine. We re you guys…together?"

Brock stared back at him in confusion. He hadn’t been expecting that . “Uh…no? Why would you think that?”

“I remember that you were always…close.” Bucky shook his head. “I guess I thought…I dunno.”

“That he was, what? My boyfriend?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, he wasn’t.”

Bucky frowned. “Okay, he wasn’t your boyfriend. But I remember I was staying at your apartment in Washington one time. I don’t know why I was there, but I remember walking in on you and Jack. But it seemed normal, like I already knew.”

Brock knew exactly what he was talking about. That time the cryo chamber had broken and Winter had escaped the facility, and ran across the city using their bond to find him. Brock had nearly had a heart attack when the Winter Soldier burst through the door to his HYDRA-owned apartment. 

“We were probably just messing around, or something,” Brock mumbled, pushing the memory away. “You know, like guys do.”

He watched as Zemo and Bucky exchanged a look.

“What?”

“Sorry, I might be misunderstanding,” Zemo said. “You lived with this man?”

“We were roommates.”

“Yeah, for like thirty years,” Bucky added.

Brock made a frustrated noise. “Can we just drop it?”

“But-”

“I said drop it.”

Bucky hung his head. “Okay, fine. Sorry.”

“Well, Italy is lovely, anyway,” Zemo said, eating the last bite of his cheesecake.

*

When they got back to the house, Brock retreated to his bedroom, locking the door behind him.

He didn’t know if he wanted to make sense of everything that was going on inside his head, or for all the thoughts swirling around inside it to stop. He was still drunk, but not drunk enough. He thought about going downstairs for a beer, or three, but then decided that he couldn’t face his mates like that. He was already here, in his den. He just needed space to calm down. He flopped onto the bed, tugging off the stuffy tie and tossing it aside. 

He was never gonna be a guy that wore ties. Why was the Baron trying to make him into something he wasn’t?

And Bucky, kneeling on the carpet between his legs, smirking up at him like Winter after he’d been out of cryo for too long. The two versions of his mate seemed to blur together, overlapping. Where did one end and the other began? Had those been shards of Bucky’s mind, slicing through Winter’s shattered one? Those icy blue eyes come alive with mischief, that wicked tongue saying something like, “Come on now, I know you wanna, I can feel it,” before Brock crashed their lips together and they tumbled into oblivion. 

Brock felt like he was spiralling. He needed something to ground him, and reached underneath the bed for the lockbox. He knelt on the floor and slid it out, twisting the locks to the right combination. 

He stared at the contents. This was it. This was his life. Well, the important parts, at least. His passport was there, along with some medical documents, a copy of his birth certificate, and other important paperwork. He brushed them aside. 

There were his medals. The ‘Steve Rogers Memorial Award for Outstanding Spirit’. Brock palmed it and rolled the cold disc of metal around in his fingers. He’d got that for saving his squad, half of them secretly HYDRA. Not what he was looking for. 

There were SHIELD medals, and some of those patches they gave out when you joined a new project or completed an objective in HYDRA. Those ones were more subtle than the big, shiny things SHIELD gave out. They had to be.

He picked up one, a dark embroidered patch featuring the snarling face of a doberman. There was no writing on it of course, but Brock knew what it meant. Handler to the Asset. Others featured a hand grasping an axe, bolts of lightning, a skull, an eagle. He pushed them aside, along with a small bottle of cologne and a black leather-bound notebook.

He paused for a moment at a picture frame. It was just a little cheap frame, big enough for one standard sized photograph. Brock held it for a moment. It still had the flier in, advertising the cheap price of just four dollars and ninety-nine cents. “Treasure your memories”, it instructed, in a font designed to look nostalgic and old-timey. The photo on the flier was of an old lady laughing. Her hair was short and tightly permed, her face round and merry. She was wearing a cardigan, with a striped apron over it - clearly some family mealtime, a happy, simple moment. Brock stared at it, then carefully put it back in the box.

His hand came to rest on a small scrap of black leather and gripped it tightly in his fist. He closed his eyes and took a long breath. Was he really doing this again? Yes. He had to. He didn’t have any other option, any other way to relieve the tension that was coiling in his body like a spring. He didn’t want to go crazy and break shit, he wanted to act like he was keeping it together. He didn’t want his mates to know how messed up he felt inside.

“Alright,” he mumbled to himself. “Guess this is happening.”

What’s the harm in it anyway? Brock thought as he closed the box and climbed back onto the bed, unfastening his shirt.  It’s not like his mates were gonna find out. They seemed way too busy doing whatever it was they were doing in their bedroom. He felt a pang of guilt, of longing. It wasn’t too late, he could go join his mates…no, he couldn’t. That wasn’t what he needed: this is what he needed.

The scrap of leather was short, only about six inches long, black, soft and flexible. He brought it to his nose and inhaled the scent. Even after all these years, it still smelled so beautifully of Winter . His delicious aroma, mixed with the heady fragrance of the leather: it was perfect. Brock felt himself getting hard, and dropped the strap for long enough to pull down his pants and release his cock. He reached over and grab bed the bottle of lube from the drawer in the bedside table. He drizzled a little across his hand before wrapping his hand around his cock, squeezing it just right, tracing his thumb over the slick head. He pulled the leather strap to his nose again and inhaled deeply, nuzzling into Winter’s scent; the scent of the forest that Brock sometimes thought he knew better than his own, only the sweat-soaked leather made it even richer. As though his mate’s very essence had coalesced, here, fusing into something so perfect that he’d never been able to throw it away even after all these years. 

Brock’s hand worked his dick, easily gliding over it with the help of the lube. Winter used to slick up for him like that, wanting him so badly that his body would perfectly prepare itself to take his cock. He missed Winter wanting him like that, like he had no other thought except his insatiable need for his mate, wanting his Alpha to take him as he looked up at him with blue eyes so full of desire and longing for him. 

He came with a growl, arching his back against the sheets and spilling onto his chest. He lay for a few minutes to catch his breath, the scent of the scrap of Winter’s discarded uniform still filling his nose. Eventually, he cleaned himself up in the en suite, before coming back to the bed and laying down again. He held the leather gently, rubbing it against his face and imagining that Winter was there as he fell into a deep sleep.

*

Brock woke up the next day to Bucky tapping on the door. “Hey, Bones? You up?”

“Huh? Yeah, just getting there!” he called back, rolling over and sliding the little piece of leather under the pillows. 

“You wanna come down for breakfast?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right down! Lemme just get dressed first.”

He quickly pulled on shorts and a t- shirt, and unlocked the door. 

“Hey, I’m going to the garden center out of town later,” Bucky said as they walked downstairs.  “Need to get a few more tools if we’re gonna tackle that jungle out there. Wanna come?”

“What about the Baron?”

“It would just be us. Zemo’s got some online lecture he’s watching.”

“Uhh,” Brock thought for a moment. “Okay. Can I drive?”

“You can drive?” Bucky asked in mock surprise, and laughed at Brock's indignant face. “Sure, why not?”

*

Those boys certainly are taking their time , Zemo thought. He didn’t mind, of course - those two having time together was a good thing, especially after last night. It had definitely been a mistake to choose that restaurant. He should have let Brock choose somewhere he felt comfortable. But it certainly wasn’t the end of the world, and they could just do something else next time that they would all enjoy. 

He cast about for what to do next. His lecture had finished, he’d read the next chapter of his book in the morning sunshine, and lunch was already prepared. Which only left his chores. 

Helmut was aware of how privileged he’d been in the past - never having to clean up after himself, always having a servant to bring him his food, do his laundry, and keep his house tidy - and he was determined not to let that make him complacent in their new home.

He grabbed the clothes basket and strode upstairs, picking up a pair of boxer shorts he came across on the landing. Brock’s, obviously. James was only messy within the confines of his side of the closet. But for some reason their Alpha seemed to have no problem stripping off and leaving his clothes in a pile wherever he stood. Zemo rolled his eyes and tossed them into the basket. 

He did a little sweep of the room he and James were using as their main bedroom, emptying their laundry bin. Then, he paused outside of Brock’s room, dreading the mess that he would find within, before he pushed open the door.

As expected, Brock hadn’t used the laundry bag they’d given him. Instead, socks, pants and vests littered the floor, and Zemo bent down with a sigh to start clearing them. He threw the wet flannel that had been left hanging over the side of the sink basin into the basket, then washed his hands for good measure.

The scent of Alpha in the room was ripe, and Zemo opened the window to let some fresh air in. It was usually a scent he very much appreciated, but right now, it was too overpowering for even Zemo. His senses were still heightened so soon after heat, and it was a great relief when the breeze lifted the fog of Rumlow’s funk. Then his senses alerted him to something else, and he curiously sniffed the air. What was that? He couldn’t quite place it…

Turning around, Zemo traced the scent to the bed and sniffed around cautiously. Brock had laid here last night, and he’d brought himself to climax but there was something else, too. Reaching his hand under the pillow, Zemo pulled out the scrap of leather, and lifted it to his nose.

Oh no, he thought, cold dread settling in his stomach. The material had clearly been worn by James close to his body, without a thorough washing. It was deeply imbued with his scent, earthy, warm, natural- and combined with the smell of leather, and the smallest hint of Brock’s rich, smoky smell too- it was perfection.

And it was terrible.

He knew immediately that this little scrap must have belonged to Winter at one time. Well, not belonged, because the Winter Soldier didn’t own anything. Everything he possessed was owned by HYDRA, including his bodily autonomy.

Zemo tucked it back under the pillow and took a seat on the edge of the bed with a sigh. So, it seemed that Brock still owned items that had belonged to the Winter Soldier. He wasn’t exactly surprised, but it did make him wonder what else he might have. What if his parole officer decided to inspect the property and found an illegal firearm that had previously been property of HYDRA? Zemo didn’t like to think what would happen then. 

It wasn’t difficult to work out that if he did own such a thing, Brock would be keeping it in the  black lockbox that he was so protective of. And who knew what else was in there dating back to his HYDRA days…

Now he was curious. Zemo glanced under the bed, and sure enough there it was. An obvious hiding spot, but then, he supposed that Brock hadn’t expected him to come snooping in his room. Or that he’d deliberately try to open it.

Zemo knelt down on the floor and pulled out the familiar black metal box. He shook it, listening to the rattle of objects inside. It was fastened shut and secured with a combination lock. Zemo turned it over in his fingers and examined it. It wasn’t one that could be easily picked, and the only way he could think to open it would be to cut through the metal or find the code. Since he didn’t want Brock to realize what he was up to, that left him only one option.

He began flicking the dials idly as he pondered what he was about to do. He knew that it was wrong to intrude upon his mate’s privacy like this, but his concern for the contents of the box overrode that feeling. He could feel guilty later, when he knew that there wasn’t anything worse than Winter Soldier memorabilia inside. 

Zemo knew that it would have to be a memorable number, so he tried Rumlow’s birthday, then James’. He tried all zeros, and all nines, and then sixty-nine sixty-nine. No luck. At just that moment, he felt James getting closer through the bond, so he pushed the box back into its hiding spot, and walked back upstairs to greet his mates.

*

As much as he tried to put it out of his mind, Zemo couldn’t help thinking about that box over the next few days. If anything, his concern only seemed to grow and it got to the point where he could hardly think of anything except what was inside it. He knew that sometimes he could be single-minded, when he became focused on an idea, but he really couldn’t help it. Not when it concerned his mates. 

He had the feeling that if he brought it up, Brock would, understandably, feel attacked and deny everything. Zemo didn’t really blame him for keeping something that had his mate’s scent on it all those years they’d be separated. He did worry, however, how James would react to the news that Brock still had what was essentially a trophy of something belonging to Winter. He didn’t want them taking a step back, when they’d already made so much progress. So if he could examine the contents himself, then he would be able to decide how best to proceed. 

Luckily, James and Brock had decided to go see a movie together that afternoon.

 “Come on, Baron, it will be fun!” Brock had pestered, but Zemo just yawned and stretched out on the couch as if he was planning on taking a nap.

“No, moj tigric , I’m afraid I won’t be joining you, I’m planning on working on my memoir.”

“Doesn’t sound as fun as Smash Legacy 2 . But whatever.”

“Have fun.”

As soon as his mates were out the door, Zemo crept upstairs to Brock’s bedroom. He would have a couple of hours at least to try as many combinations as possible, and set an alarm on his phone in case he became immersed in the task and lost track of time. Two hours would be safe. No matter what he was doing, when that alarm went off, he had to return the box to its hiding place and leave the room.

He pulled the box out and sat cross legged on the floor next to it. There were four digits on the combination lock, which meant 10,000 possible codes if Brock had selected one at random. But most people don’t pick them at random, and instead chose something they could remember easily, something burned into their memory that they could recall years or decades into the future. If Brock had chosen a date, that cut down the possibilities dramatically. 

Zemo got to work.

He was in mid-March when he first started to get bored, and somewhere in June when he started to wonder if he’d made a mistake. Maybe the box would explode when he opened it and kill him. Well, that would be something different for his mates to come home to, for sure.

In September, he wished he’d brought a cup of tea up w ith him, and in November he started to plan his next angle of attack when this date strategy ultimately failed him.

Until December 23rd.

The lock sprang open with an audible click. Zemo paused in shock - he wasn’t even confident this method would work, but here he was, holding the lock in his hand. He hesitated. This was the last possible moment to back out of his plan, to stop this betrayal of his mate. But he couldn’t, not now. He opened the box.

Zemo wasn’t sure what he expected. Brock had told them previously that there wasn’t a gun in it, but that denial had seemed suspiciously specific to Zemo. But here was proof - no gun, no ammunition, nothing explosive or corrosive.

He carefully moved the scented leather strap aside, glanced at Brock’s passport photo, and flicked through his medical records. Nothing dangerous there. He shifted an empty photo frame, and pawed through some of the embroidered patches. He recognised some of those patches from HYDRA - he had come across many in his research. They would never have the name or date of the mission on them, and their images were abstract, to stop a direct line being drawn between these awards and what operations they were linked to. The snarling dog, given out to those high-ranking in the Winter Soldier program. The lightning bolts of Operation Crunch. The dragon with glowing eyes given to SHIELD infiltrators. Many more that Zemo had never seen before. The sight of them in his mate’s room in the house they shared made him feel sick.

There were medals, too - a few stars and discs, these ones emblazoned with color and pride. All of them were from SHIELD, and each backed with their resplendent eagle logo. Outstanding spirit. Bravery in the Field. Ten years of loyal service.

Next, he found a bottle of cologne, with nothing but the word ‘DIOS’ printed on the side. It was half-empty, and he sprayed a little on his wrist curiously. The smell was cloying and thick, and Zemo could tell it was years out of date. But even so, he could sense notes of spice and castoreum. It was like something an old man would wear, and he disliked the way it hung around him like an oppressive cloud. He wiped it away as best he could on his pants, snapped the lid back on the bottle, and put it back in the box.

And that was when he saw it. 

His first thought was that it couldn’t be what he thought it was, because it wasn’t supposed to exist. He’d come across vague mentions of it, but nothing that he’d been able to decrypt entirely. Zemo picked up the black leather bound notebook and examined it. He’d held a book just like this one before, but that one had been red. Where this one had a faint grey cross, the other had a star.

Zemo let it fall open at random. It was written in Russian, of course- the lingua franca of HYDRA. Luckily, he’d studied the language during his time incarcerated in Berlin when there’d been little else to occupy himself. But even so, the language was technical and at first glance it was hard to understand. Still, Zemo managed to read a little. 

Subject 5 demonstrates a very strong preference for homosexual imagery. 5 is noted to have a particular proclivity to… even when under a suppression regimen. As is common in male Alphas… 5 has an area of increased sensitivity on the underside of his… and pays particular attention to this spot when…

There were several words that Zemo didn’t know, but he suspected that the words he didn’t know were ‘knot’, ‘penis’ and ‘masturbating’. 

5 has been observed…in several instances, even when not in the presence of a potential mate….habits are otherwise normal in length and frequency, although 5 reports some disturbing fantasies….reprogramming not recommended before introduction to the Asset - see attached report 322c.

Zemo stopped reading, feeling very disturbed. It was written in such a detached, clinical way that it was hard to connect his mate, Brock, to ‘subject 5’, because that was surely who they were referring to. He couldn’t believe that he held in his hands a blueprint to his mates’ shared history, the story of how they bonded, a guidebook to all the experiments performed on them and the missions they went on. It had been such a glaring omission in the leaked HYDRA files, and everyone assumed it had been destroyed. 

He also couldn’t believe that Brock had kept this a secret from James all this time.

Zemo jumped as his phone alarm went off. He hastily returned the book to the box, closed it and slid it back under the bed. Then he got to his feet and walked out of the room, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. 

When his mates arrived home ten minutes later, Zemo was in the kitchen preparing dinner.

“How was it?”, he asked, trying to keep the strain out of his voice. 

“Eh, Smash Legacy 1 was better.” Brock said, opening the refrigerator and helping himself to a beer. 

Then the Alpha froze, hand on the door. “You smell something?”

“Hmm?” Zemo said, focused on the chorizo he was frying. “This?”

“No, I smell it too,” Bucky sniffed around. “It’s like a… a perfume kind of smell.”

Oh hell, the cologne! Zemo thought. He’d made sure to wash his hands thoroughly to get the cloying scent off, but he’d forgotten that he’d initially wiped them on his pants.

“It’s on you.” Brock said, glaring at Zemo.

“Ah, yes,” Helmut shrugged, attempting nonchalance. “I decided to treat myself to a new fragrance. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work with my scent profile. I thought I’d managed to scrub it all off, but perhaps not.”

He felt a sudden tug of curiosity from James in their bond. Can he tell I’m lying?

“I don’t like it,” Bucky said, wrinkling up his nose. “I really, really don’t like it. Reminds me of… something. Something bad.”

“Be assured that I won’t buy it again,” Zemo said, turning back to the food, his mind racing. What the hell had been in that bottle?

James shook his head. “Yeah, please don’t. Listen, I’m gonna go upstairs and meditate. Call me when dinner’s ready?”

“Of course.”

Zemo continued cooking the meat, but he could feel Brock’s eyes boring into the back of his head. 

“You weren’t trying out no ‘new fragrance’,” the Alpha growled lowly. “I know exactly where you got it!”

Zemo calmly put the spatula down and turned to face his mate. “Oh?”

“Yeah, got it going through my things like a fuckin’ rat! Who gave you the right, huh?”

Brock had stepped closer, but Zemo held his gaze. “Apologies,” he said, his tone not apologetic in the slightest. “When I discovered that you had a trophy with the Winter Soldier’s scent on it, I was concerned what other dangerous things you might have kept from your time spent in HYDRA.”

“So that’s it!” Brock shouted. “I knew you didn’t trust me! Won’t even let me have one fuckin’ tiny space to myself in your house! All this time you were just pretendin’ like you cared about me, but you were just using me and tryin’ to make me into somethin’ I ain’t!”

“No, that’s not what I-”

“Fuck you, Baron!” Rumlow snarled, stalking out of the room and down to the basement. 

Zemo heard footsteps on the stairs and a moment later Bucky rushed back into the kitchen. 

“What the hell’s going on?”, he said, coming over to where Zemo stood frozen. Zemo closed his eyes, feeling his mate’s alarm and concern for him through the bond, and then a flash of Brock’s tangled up anger. He opened his eyes when he felt James take his hand. 

“The food’s burning.”

Zemo took it off the heat and turned off the stove. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, shaking his head. 

“Why was he shouting?”

“Brock’s angry that I went through his personal possessions,” Zemo said. “I violated his privacy”

Bucky frowned, confusion and anger written across his face. “What? Why? Zemo, you know how important privacy is to him.”

“I do, but it was necessary. Especially in light of what I found.”

“Well, what? What did you find?”

“James, he has the Project Crossbones book.”

*

Chapter Text

 *

Bucky stared back at Zemo, uncomprehending. “Zemo, I have no idea what the Project Crossbones book is.”

Zemo sighed, and took a seat at the kitchen island. “It’s a companion piece of sorts to the Winter Soldier book. It’s all the information about your bond, how they forced it, how HYDRA…maintained it. It could be the key to understanding everything that happened between the two of you.”

Bucky stared at him in disbelief, remembering a pen held in a technician’s white-gloved hands, writing something in a little black book as Rumlow ran through ACT protocol after a mission. “What? No, all of that was destroyed…”

Zemo shook his head. “It wasn’t. It’s here in our house. In Brock’s lockbox.”

Bucky’s heart was suddenly pounding. He could feel it in his temples. All the data HYDRA kept about him and Bones, all the records of their bonding, their mating… it was all here. It had been here the whole time. Bucky leaned back against the counter, his head spinning.

“That… that bastard!”

“James-”

“I can’t believe he’d keep this from me! He knew what it meant to me!”

“I don’t think that he-”

Bucky shook his head, brushing past his mate, refusing to meet his eyes. “I gotta go.”

“But-”

“I gotta clear my head, Zemo.”

Zemo heard the door slam behind him. Perfect. This is why he’d needed more time to consider how to tell James about this situation tactfully. But now it was too late. Brock was angry with him, and James was angry with Brock. 

He poured himself a measure of whiskey with a sigh, then stared down into his glass. 

*

Zemo was in the living room and on his third full glass by the time James returned. 

“I ran over to the next town and back,” he said, coming in and slumping down in the armchair across from Zemo.

“Feel any better?”

Bucky shook his head. “Not really.” He glanced over his shoulder. “He still down in the basement?”

Zemo nodded, taking a sip of his whiskey. “Yes, I believe so.”

Bucky turned back to Zemo and leaned forward slightly. “Good, because I need you to tell me exactly what you found.”

Zemo sighed. He’d known this was coming. “You’re not going to like it.”

James nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I know. But I still need to hear it.”

“Okay, well. I went up to Brock’s room to do the laundry and I found a broken leather strap in his bed.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And it had the Winter Soldier’s scent on it.”

Bucky frowned. “And that’s…different from my scent?”

“In a way, yes,” Zemo confirmed. “It was clear that the strap was something from HYDRA, and it made me wonder what else he had hidden in that box."

“You didn’t mention any of this to me before you broke into it,” Bucky stated.

“No, I wanted to find out for myself what was inside.”

“Why?”

“To prevent exactly this situation from occurring.”

“You can’t just…control everything like that, Zemo!" Bucky exclaimed incredulously. "You should have come and talked to me first.”

Zemo contemplated this for a moment before saying, “Yes, I suppose you’re right. I think I was just worried about how you would react. Things between you and Brock have been getting better recently. I didn’t want to ruin that.”

“You didn’t,” Bucky said. “He was the one who had the book the whole time…it was in his box, wasn’t it?”

Zemo nodded and took another sip of his whiskey. “Yes, it was. Along with some other HYDRA relics. Harmless things, like patches, medals, a bottle of cologne…”

“Yeah, that smell…” Bucky shuddered. “It was real bad. Creeps me out that he has that. Worse than him having something with my…with the Winter Soldier’s scent on it.”

Bucky paused, before continuing. “But keeping the book from me? That I’m really not okay with. I should have known there was a reason he was so touchy about that box of his.”

Zemo tilted his head to one side. “Well, I think it’s also that he has so very little in his life, it makes sense that he is so…protective of what he does have.”

“Because what he has is HYDRA relics.”

“Well, yes. You know better than I that it was his whole adult life. Almost thirty years.”

“Right, but that was my life too, not just his. He doesn’t get to decide what I do or don’t know.”

“It may just be habit,” Zemo said thoughtfully. “I imagine that he’s used to making those kind of decisions on your behalf.”

Bucky sighed. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“Listen,” Zemo said. “While you were out, I’ve been thinking. The book is written in Russian. Brock doesn’t understand Russian, does he?”

James frowned. “I remember him speaking Russian. Not well though…I would have to translate for him sometimes.”

“So, might it not be reasonable to assume that he doesn't know the full contents of the book?”

“I guess,” Bucky said thoughtfully. “But he’s gotta know what something like that would mean to me. Just the idea that I could see it written down, see exactly what they did to me, so that I don’t have to just rely on memories…” he trailed off, lapsing into silence.

“Maybe that’s why he didn’t say anything,” Zemo said. “He might be worried about what you might discover. He may have been trying to protect you from that.”

Bucky shook his head. “Like I said, he doesn’t get to make that decision for me.”

“I know, I know,” Zemo said placatingly. “And if it’s something you want to do, you should read it.”

“I can’t read Cyrillic.”

“Well, then I can help you. We can make sense of it together.”

Bucky walked over and sat down beside Zemo on the couch. “Thank you,” he said, taking his mate's hand. Zemo leaned in and kissed him softly on the cheek. 

"Brock doesn't know that I am aware of the book,” Zemo said after a moment. “Just that I went through his things.”

"We should let him cool down before talking to him," Bucky said. "Give him some time."

*

When his initial rage had passed, Bones slumped down against the wall of the basement. They’d only managed to clear out a portion of it, and even that small space was already getting filled with the tools and paint they were using to fix up the house.

There was an old mattress leaning against the wall, and Brock had flipped it onto the floor. 

He’d certainly slept on worse before. He thought about that time only a few months ago when his mates had locked him in the boiler room of their apartment building. At least he wasn’t hungover and coming out of a rut this time. 

When he heard the sound of water running through the pipes, he knew the Baron was in the shower, and used that as his chance to sneak upstairs. He quickly grabbed his lockbox and stole a few beers and some snacks from the fridge before hurrying back down to the basement. He obviously had to guard his property now. Nothing was safe from the prying of that nosy Omega.

Sitting down on the old mattress, Brock pulled the box next to him. 

“How did the little bastard even know Jack’s birthday?”, he grumbled to himself as he opened it and inspected the contents. The Baron hadn’t taken anything - well, except a spritz of cologne. He pulled out the leather strap, rubbing it against his cheek, but it felt somehow wrong now. Pushing everything else aside - the badges and medals, the tattered old notebook, the paperwork - he took the photo frame out and set it on a pile of boxes next to his makeshift bed, gazing up at it just the way he used to. In the half-light, she looked just how he remembered her.

Brock didn’t bother locking the box again - what would be the point? Instead he cracked open a can of beer. He chugged half of it down, and then the rest of it before opening another. But even drinking couldn’t calm him down, and he began agitatedly pacing the cluttered little room. He was careful enough to avoid the paint sheets left on the floor they’d been using to protect the furniture. Their furniture, in their house- except, it was really Zemo’s, because he was the one who’d bought everything, and Brock was just living here. The Omega had made that very clear when he’d decided to invade his privacy and start going through the only possessions he had. 

I could always leave , Brock thought. There’s nothing forcing me to stay. I could take my stuff, walk up those stairs and never look back.

Bonds might be unbreakable, but relationships weren’t. After all, he’d lived for years without Winter. Their bond was weak enough he could be miles away from him without it hurting. Brock hesitated, realizing he hadn’t yet tested it with the Baron. He didn’t know if it worked the same way at all. 

All of this was so hard, maybe leaving would be best for all of them. It was a familiar line of thinking for Brock, and it was comforting to know that he had an out if he needed it. Brock wasn’t good at living by himself, but he could do it. Zemo and Bucky would be happy together, and he’d never need to worry about them. And they wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore either. He could just fade away, out of their lives for good. He’d never see either of them ever again. 

Brock sat back down on the mattress and took another swig of his beer.

After he’d sold out HYDRA, the government had kept him on a tight leash, dragging him in for questioning every few days; showing him pictures and forcing him to relive every moment of it in excruciating detail. But after a while, they’d put him in WITSEC and tried to set him up with a name, a new apartment, a new job. A whole new life, without his mate or Jack, or anyone that he knew. He’d really believed that he’d never see Winter again, that he’d be stuck at his dead-end job packing groceries into bags at the end of a checkout line for the rest of his life. He was meant to smile at the customers and ask them if they’d found everything they needed, but he soon realized that his new scars scared people, and in any case it was easier to keep quiet. That at least was something he was good at. 

The morning that it happened was like most mornings. He’d had a raging hangover, and was clumsily packing up some old lady’s shopping, when he heard a shout and looked up in time to see the cashier just… disintegrate. Brock stared at the horrifying sight of her body just crumbling away into dust, and then he heard screams and the sound of a car crashing out in the parking lot, and then he felt it.

In that moment, Brock knew with horrifying certainty that Winter was dead. Some part of his mind that had always buzzed with a gentle static went suddenly, irreversibly silent, and left nothing but a gaping black hole of pain and grief and emptiness.

He dropped to his knees, his mate’s name on his lips, so lost in the utter destruction of his bond that he didn’t even notice his own body falling away into dust.

Then…it was over. His bond was suddenly back, like a light that had been switched on again. And he was lying on the store floor wondering if he’d just had a panic attack. He’d pulled himself up just in time to see the cashier reappear - right on top of a new cashier he’d never seen before.

As soon as he found out what had happened - and got his head around the fact he’d been gone for five whole years - he couldn’t help but think about what he’d felt before he vanished. Winter must have been dusted too, and Brock knew then that that pain, that grief… it was waiting for one of them for real.

So even if Brock left right now, if something happened to him and he was hundreds of miles from them, they’d still feel it. And he remembered when he’d been really low after he bonded to Zemo, and he’d been begging Winter- begging Bucky to kill him, and Bucky had said that he wouldn’t put Zemo through that again. 

For the first time, Brock really thought about the fact that the Baron had lost his bondmate, and his kid, too. No wonder he was fucked up, and maybe scared of losing his two new mates. And even if he was mad at him, Brock really didn’t want to lose either of them. He didn’t want to walk up those stairs and out of their lives. He was done imagining that it would be easy, that he could do it without consequences. He didn’t want to do it.

I want to stay , he thought. I really want to be with them. Be a good mate. And I don’t wanna lose them. I already felt what it was like to lose Winter once. And I don’t wanna lose the Baron either…even if I’m mad at him for what he did.

  *

It wasn’t until the next morning that Brock decided to come back upstairs. He'd slept down in the unfinished basement curled up on the mattress, using the paint sheets as a blanket. When he came into the kitchen he ignored them both and went to the fridge, chugging down half a carton of orange juice.

“We know about the book," Bucky said from his seat at the counter, not able to stand the silence for another moment.

Brock turned to face him, a look of confusion on his face. "What book?"

“The Project Crossbones book,” Zemo said. “You have it in your lockbox.”

"Didn't you think it was something you should have shared with James?" Zemo asked.

"You're accusing me , Baron?” Brock snapped. “You're the one who snuck into my room, unlocked the box and went through my stuff! If anyone's on trial here, it's you!”

Zemo tilted his head to one-side. "If I had not done so, you would have kept the book to yourself, no?"

"Okay, stop," Bucky said, getting in between them. "Zemo, stop winding him up. It's not helping. You shouldn't have gone through his things and you know it.'

"But-"

"You could have just talked to us," Bucky went on. "So don't pretend like you were doing this for me, when it was about you and your damn curiosity."

"Yeah, exactly!" Brock said.

"I'm not happy with you either," Bucky said, turning to him. "You shouldn't have kept something like that a secret. Not when it’s about both of us. And I don't wanna hear anything about how you were trying to protect me."

“Protect you from what?” Brock growled. “You’re talking about the book in my box, right? 

Well I can’t even read it, it’s all in Russian!”

“Then why do you have it?” Bucky snapped back.

“'cause it-” Brock started, almost yelling, then caught himself. He took a deep breath, then spoke more calmly. “'cause it’s got pictures of you in there. Me an’ you.”

The three of them stood in silence for a moment.

“Do you understand the significance of that book, Brock?” Zemo asked gently.

Rumlow looked at the floor. “They used to write measurements and stuff in it,” he said. “Reward protocols. Nutrition schedules. How to… punish Win- I mean, the Winter Soldier - if he did things wrong. Stuff like that.”

“Yes,” Zemo nodded. “But it’s more than that. Many of the HYDRA files refer to information in that book, though it was presumed destroyed when the Triskelion fell. It was an ongoing commentary on the entire Crossbones project: the plan to bond the Winter Soldier to an Alpha to better control him.”

“I stole it to protect you,” Brock said. “I didn’t want anyone linking us together in case they tried to use our bond to capture you.”

“You didn’t destroy it, though.” Bucky said quietly.

“No,” Brock said, “It was… one of the only things that showed it really happened. Always figured one day I’d learn to read Russian and work out what it all meant. Why they picked me, what all those tests were about, why they did those things to us.”

“I want to know too,” Bucky said to his Alpha. “All of it. Right from the start.”

Brock shook his head. “You don’t wanna know about that stuff, Buck. A lot of it’s real bad.”

"No,” Bucky said sharply. “You don't get to decide what I'm protected from anymore. I deserve to know the truth, and I don't want any more secrets between us. We need to be able to trust each other.”

Brock shot a surly look at Zemo. "Tell him that."

"I am sorry for invading your privacy, Brock,” Zemo reached out a hand to touch Brock’s back, but the Alpha stepped away. “But as I said yesterday, I was concerned that there may have been something in that box that could jeopardize the terms of my parole. Maybe a firearm-”

“Baron, I know you're not allowed any shit like that!” Brock snapped, his anger suddenly peaking again so hard both his mates felt it through their bond. “You think I'd risk everything over a stupid gun?”

"Okay, Zemo, you need to apologize,” Bucky interrupted. “What you did was wrong and I think you know that."

"I felt like I had to…" Zemo began. "But you're right, James. That doesn't excuse it." He gave Brock an apologetic look. "I know that if someone went into my nest without my consent, I'd be feeling how you are now. Hurt, betrayed. Angry. It's perfectly understandable, and I'm sorry."

Brock held his gaze for a minute before looking away.

"It'll be better when I get my den," he mumbled. 

"Yes, I agree."

"I'm still mad at you."

Zemo sighed. "I know. I really am sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?"

Brock shrugged. "Nothin'. Just wanna get my den fixed and have a lock on the door."

"I swear to you, I will not do it again."

"Yeah, but you might."

Zemo shook his head. "No. I can see how much it hurt you. I should have just come to you straight away. Truthfully, I was scared. If I give the authorities any reason to separate us, they will. But I betrayed you, and I’m sorry for that. I just wish you could trust me, that all of us trusted one another. But perhaps that's wishful thinking, given our histories."

"I don't think so," Bucky said. "It just means we have to work harder and all be honest with each other from now on. If we can do that, I think we'll be ok."

Brock nodded. "Yeah. No more lies or snooping. You got that, Baron?"

Zemo nodded seriously. "Yes. I promise."

"Speaking of honesty," Bucky said. "I want to see the book."

*

Brock went downstairs. He returned soon after with the black book in hand and set it down on the counter in front of Bucky. 

Bucky was suddenly very aware of his heart pounding in his chest as he looked at it. He’d seen technicians writing in this book, and Pierce too. But he’d never been able to catch a glimpse of its pages, or been allowed to touch it or read it, and now here it was sitting right in front of him. 

“Like I said, I never read it properly,” Brock said, looking down at it. “But I shouldn’t have kept the book from you, Buck. The Baron was right, I should’ve known you’d wanna see it.”

Zemo came around the counter and stood next to him. “A strange, but fortuitous coincidence that I learned Russian while incarcerated,” he said. “Though I can’t say I’m looking forward to translating this particular text.”

“Will you do it?”, Bucky asked.

Zemo nodded. “Of course I will. I would do anything for you, James. You know that.” He looked up at Brock. “Do you want to read it as well?”

“Yeah, I guess so. It’s probably best that I know what they wrote about us, even if part of me doesn’t wanna know.”

“So we’ll read it together, with myself translating and then discuss it further in therapy, if necessary.”

“Speaking of therapy,” Bucky said. “If we are doing this, I wanna talk about how we bonded in our session this week. From you, before I read it in here.”

“You sure?”, Brock asked stiffly. “You said before you weren’t ready.”

“I know, but now I feel like I can handle it.”

Brock shrugged. “Alright, but you’re not gonna like it.”

“I guess I’ll find out.”

*

The trio sat in the waiting room on three separate chairs. Zemo had driven, so they’d arrived early, and the receptionist had offered them a drink while they waited. Bucky was idly flicking through a leaflet advertising a support group for bonded Betas. Helmut had brought with him a Russian novel, to help himself brush up on the language before he started translating the book. Brock tapped his foot against the coffee table nervously, unable to contain his restless energy.

“Hey, Baron,” he said. “You, uhh. You ever had any therapy yourself?”

“Hmm?” Zemo looked up. “What for?”

“You know,” Brock gestured vaguely. “All of the… stuff.”

“I had some mandatory counselling in prison,” his mate replied, closing his book. “But I haven’t had any need for personal therapy otherwise.”

“Are you sure?”

Zemo narrowed his eyes at him. "What are you implying?”

“Jus’...” Brock thought again about that hideous screaming void he’d felt when Bucky had turned to dust. “You been through a lot.”

“And I’ve managed quite well,” Zemo said sharply. “I don’t need your concern.”

Brock huffed. He could tell that he’d offended Zemo, and didn’t want to make the situation any worse. Instead, he turned to Bucky. “Do you remember getting dusted?”, he asked.

“Yeah,” James said, folding the leaflet up and stuffing it in his pocket. “I was one of the first to go.”

“Lucky,” Brock mumbled. 

“James, Brock, Helmut?”, Alice called, appearing in the doorway of the waiting room. “I’m ready for you now.”

*

The session was a difficult one. They talked about the book, and boundaries, and privacy, and when keeping a secret was wrong. But then Alice asked if they wanted to discuss something in particular that they might find in the notes.

"I want to talk about how Brock and I bonded," Bucky responded.

"Are you sure, James?" Alice as ked. 

Bucky nodded. "Yeah, I'm ready. I’ve been talking with my other therapist as well, and he thinks I can handle it too.” He hesitated, before saying. “The thing is, I don't remember much of it."

"Then why don't we start with what you do remember?", Alice suggested gently.

"Okay, so I remember Brock fighting other Alphas in front of me. When he won, Pierce was there kind of pushing me towards him."

"Is that Alexander Pierce?" Alice asked.

"Yeah. And I remember smelling Brock and it was really good, I wanted him. And I remember he looked really young and I felt kind of… protective of him. But I don't remember much else, until after we'd bonded."

"Do you remember the event that Bucky is talking about, Brock?”

Brock nodded. "Uh-huh, yeah. Pierce wanted the five of us Alphas to fight for dominance to see which of us would win. And he wanted to make sure that you saw all that.”

“I remember you kept getting knocked down.”

“I wasn't about to let no one beat me. I was kind of scared when you came up close to me after. I'd seen you in the field so I knew what you could do. And I was wondering if I'd made a mistake, signing up to do this because now it was real and you seemed…”

“Like what?”

“Sort of like Zemo, when he’s in heat. You were trying to lick me and scent me. Unbonded Betas don’t do that. I said this to you before, but the techs must have given you something. Some kind of Omega hormones probably. I don’t know.”

“It would likely be in the book,” Zemo added. “That would be the sort of technical information they would have made a note of.”

Bucky nodded. “I remember that,” he said. “I remember wanting you and then nothing until after we bonded.”

“Really? Nothing?”

“There’s little glimpses of things…I just don’t know if that’s from then, or some other time. It all kind of blurs together.”

“The next time I saw you was really weird. They set up a table and some chairs in the lab and brought us food, like we were on a date or something.”

“What food?”

“Uh…I think it was mac ‘n’ cheese? Crappy stuff from a box. I remember you liked it, though.”

“What else?”

“We were supposed to ask each other questions. Normal stuff. You said you liked my scent, I remember that. I don’t remember what we talked about exactly. The whole time I was just trying to think of something to say and the technicians were just there watching us and taking notes.” Brock smiled slightly. “I remember we ended up holding hands and I scented your wrist. You smelled so good, I couldn’t resist.”

Bucky searched his memory for a moment before shaking his head with a sigh. “No, I don’t remember. Sorry. That doesn’t sound too bad though, I guess.”

“Yeah, that part was fine. The next time, they put us in a cell together - they called it the mating cell - and I was supposed to just lay on the bed while you did whatever you wanted to me.”

Bucky stared at him in horror. “...What did I do?”

“Nothing bad. Well, I was kind of scared when you climbed on top of me and started growling, but then you started scenting me and licking my neck. And I remember thinking it was weird, because that’s always what I wanted to do during sex, but I always tried not to do that because I didn’t wanna seem like a freak.”

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything, just lay there. And you pulled my shirt off and started touching my chest, and I remember really wanting to just grab you and kiss you but I wasn’t allowed to. Then I…uh,” he trailed off, looking down at the floor in embarrassment. “I got hard and you started touching me. Gave me a hand job.”

Bucky was silent for a moment before he said. “Sorry.”

“No! It was good. I wanted you to.”

“What about when we…did we have sex?”

“You don’t remember?”

“I told you I don’t.”

“Sorry,” Brock mumbled. He cleared his throat, scratching the scars on his cheek. “So, they left us alone and we…it just kind of happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you seemed like you really wanted to. You were all over me, like last time. Except this time they let me actually do stuff too, I didn’t have to just keep still and lay there.”

Bucky shifted uncomfortably. It was unsettling that he didn’t have any memory of this. Sure, he had memories of times he and Brock had been intimate, but nothing that felt like a first time.

“Can you…describe it more?”, Bucky asked. “I wanna see if I can remember anything.”

“Uh…sure, okay. So we were both lying on the bed in the mating cell and kissing and touching, and then you kind of pulled me on top of you. And I was thinking, ‘Wow, h e’s strong,’ and I kind of liked that, and then you started doing that thing where you tilt your head back so I can scent you. And you were making these little noises, because you liked me running my fingers through your hair. And I was thinkin’, if we bonded I’d take such good care of you.”

Brock looked at him then tentatively, as he continued. “You were staring up at me, and I couldn’t look away. The way your eyes were dark was just so hot, like I could really see how much you wanted this. And after that everything just got real blurry and hazy, and it was just happening.”

Bucky thought about this for a moment. “I guess that doesn’t sound so bad either,” he said. “I still don’t remember though. Was that when we bonded?”

Brock shook his head. “No, not that time.”

“When did that happen?”

“Uh… I don’t remember that too good,” Brock said hesitantly, rubbing his cheek with his knuckles in what was becoming a familiar gesture. “We had a couple of other times where we were just having sex together before that, and it was nice. But we weren’t bonding, and I think they wanted to speed it up because they wanted you back in the field. So they basically shot me up with a load of rut-inducing hormones and locked us up together. I think they probably gave you something too because it was like you were in heat, even though you don’t have those.”

“And we bonded?”

“Yeah, I don’t know how long it was. A few days maybe? And then I woke up in the med bay.”

“Wait, why were you-” Bucky broke off, part of the memory coming back to him. “Oh. Right, I think I remember. You were dehydrated, so they had to take you out of there. You kept trying to give me food and water but you wouldn’t have any yourself. You were like that when Zemo was in heat too, I had to make sure you had something.”

“Some Alphas will behave like that,” Alice said. “Especially if they feel insecure about their mate leaving. It sounds like you might have been feeling that way, Brock?”

“Yeah, of course I was. And when I woke up I was freaking out because Winter wasn’t there.”

“Did they separate us?”, Bucky asked.

“Not exactly. Jack was with me in the medbay trying to calm me down, but he couldn’t so Pierce gave me a talking to. Then they brought you in to see me, and you were there with me for a day or so while I recovered. After that we got to be together for a week while I learnt how to do all the Alpha Contact Time stuff with you, and then we were back in the field.”

“I have a question for Brock,” Zemo asked, “If that’s okay?”

Brock shrugged. “Sure, go ahead.”

“Why didn’t they simply give you both hormones to start with, if they were trying to make you bond as quickly as possible?”

“I dunno. I think they wanted us to get used to each other.  I think they were worried about Winter freaking out when he was all dosed up.” 

“And hurting you?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“What are you thinking, James?”, Alice asked.

“Just… I don’t like that I still don't remember, after hearing it,". Bucky said in frustration. "It feels wrong not remembering sexual stuff like that. Though there are some things I’m pretty sure happened that I don’t want to remember.”

“What do you mean?”, Brock asked quickly.

“Before you… some people did things to me they shouldn’t have. Not many. No one was supposed to mess with me like that. I was HYDRA’s weapon, not their whore. That’s what they always used to say when people got a little too…you know.”

“Who did that to you?”, Brock growled

Bucky shrugged. “They’re all dead now, so it doesn’t matter. And like I said, I don’t really remember, anyway.”

There was a pause, where Brock seemed to be struggling with something. Opening his mouth to speak and then closing it again. 

“Is there something you want to say, Brock?”, Alice asked.

Brock nodded nervously. “Yeah. Since we’re talking about this stuff. After we bonded…when we were…together. You know, sex. That stuff. Was... was I raping you? The Baron made it seem like I was…”

“What?”, Zemo exclaimed, looking at Brock in confusion.

“You said that to me, when we had that big fight before we bonded.”

Zemo swallowed, remembering the things he’d said that day.

“So is this something that you’ve been thinking about for a while, Brock?”, Alice asked.

“Yeah. Not the whole time, but I’ve been thinking about it for sure.”

Bucky took a long, deep breath. “Technically, yes. I couldn’t have consented.”

“Are you saying all the time we… that you didn’t want to?”

Bucky shook his head. “No, I’m saying back then I had no agency, so even if it seemed like I wanted it… I wasn’t myself and I couldn’t have made that decision. It’s complicated, and it’s difficult dealing with the fact that it was forced on me, but I also enjoyed some of it. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, sounds complicated,” Brock agreed. “Dunno know what to say except I’m sorry. And I know it don’t make what I did okay, even if you said you enjoyed it.”

“Some of it,” Bucky clarified. “There were times there were other people there and we were being watched… that kind of thing felt… fucking awful.” 

"Wanna know if I can do anything to... I don't know,” Rumlow shrugged. “Put things right. Can't fix it but… you know,”

“Mm,” Bucky managed, thinking about the words that Rumlow had said to him a few months ago when Bucky had stepped through the door to his apartment. 

“What about every time Pierce had me fuck you in front of the technicians to ‘re-establish our bond’, after months in the deep-freeze…”

He was shaking, his body still cold to the bone. The scent of his mate mixed with the unpleasant taste of saline in his mouth. 

“It’s malfunctioning.”

“He’s- it’s not. It’s fine, aren’t you, Win?”

Winter glanced tentatively through the curtain of wet hair hanging over his face. He felt his mate’s warm fingers gently move it aside. He tried to lean into the touch, but was distracted by the men standing around them in lab coats and surgical masks.

"A-alpha?," he whispered. "Why are they watching us?"

"Don't look at them Winter, look at me. See, it's okay, I'm here. I'm here."

He turned to look at his mate, who was holding him by the hips, so close and tight. 

“No, I don’t like it. I want to go…”

“Okay, okay…we’re gonna go, I promise… ah fuck!”

Winter moved his hips forward, pulling on the knot inside him. He felt his mate’s pain lance through the bond, and he forced himself to keep still, gritting his teeth and trying not to look at the bright lights reflecting off the tiled floor, the technicians crowding around them as his breathing came short and sharp…

“James?”

Bucky became aware that Zemo was saying his name. He felt a warm hand rubbing his back, slowly up and down. Reminding him that he wasn’t alone, but not imposing on him. Bucky kept his eyes on the colorful pattern of the rug and began to slow his breathing, inhaling slowly through his nose and out through his mouth. 

“That’s good,” Alice said calmly. “You’re doing well, James. Just breathe. We’re right here with you.”

He slowly began to feel like he was returning to his body, and felt himself relaxing into the feeling of Zemo stroking his back. He concentrated on their bond, how it washed over him. 

“Here,” Alice said, offering him a glass of water. Bucky accepted it and took a sip. “How are you feeling?”

Bucky nodded. “I’m okay. It’s nothing I can’t handle. I just feel tired now.”

“You can rest, if you like,” Alice said. “If your mates would like to talk some more?”

Zemo shook his head. “I think we’d like to finish for today. We’re almost at time, as it is.”

“Yes, alright,” Alice agreed. “I’ll see you at the same time next week, then.”

*

“I’ve been thinking,” Bucky said, when they were in the car on the way home. “Today was a lot, and I don’t think I’m ready to read the book right now.”

“That’s fine, James,” Zemo said, glancing in the mirror to look back at him. “Whenever we’re all ready.”

“Right,” Brock said in agreement. He was sitting in the seat next to Bucky, fidgeting with his hands.

“It’s okay,” Bucky said. “I had people around me that knew what to do. And I’m alright now. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Brock bit his lip, his eyes still flickered over Bucky nervously, as if trying to assure himself that his mate really was okay. “I’m still gonna.”

Bucky sighed wearily, letting his head fall back against the seat. “I know.”

*

When they got home, Brock settled down on the front porch to smoke a cigarette. He felt wrung out and exhausted. 

A few minutes later, the Baron came out and sat down next to him. “May I have one?”, he asked. 

Brock offered him the packet. “Sure, go ahead.”

He watched as the Baron slid one out and took it between his fingers. Brock held out the lighter for him, summoning the flame with a click. Zemo inhaled a lungful of smoke with a sigh. “Today was difficult, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, you can say that again,” Brock mumbled, scratching the scars on his cheek.

“Are we alright, you and I?”, the Baron asked, looking at him with those deep brown eyes that it was hard not to get lost in. “I feel like we never had a moment to talk without James.”

Brock looked away and up at the tree branches swaying in the breeze. “Hm. I guess. I’m still kind of mad you went through my stuff, but you said you won’t do it again so…” he shrugged, looking back at his mate. “I guess we’re good.”

Zemo nodded, and Brock watched as he brought the cigarette to his lips.

He’s always so calm , Brock thought. When Bucky had been panicking, he’d known exactly what to do. How to calm him down. Brock didn’t know how to do that any more.

“I wish…”

Zemo turned to look at him.

“What?”

Brock sighed, breathing smoke into the summer air. “You’re so good at just getting him. In therapy you knew what to do, and I felt like I was frozen. I didn’t wanna move in case I made it worse, or something.”

“There’s still a lot about him I don’t know,” Zemo admitted.

“Yeah, but you know the important stuff.”

“But so do you,” Zemo said. “I know he’s not Winter, but he’s not as different as you seem to think he is.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Brock said. “I just…I want what you have together. I want to be a better mate to both of you.”

“You’re not a bad mate, Brock.”

“Yeah, but I’m not a good one neither.”

Zemo shook his head and stubbed his cigarette out on the deck. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. This transition has been difficult for all of us. As I said, today was particularly difficult.”

He stood up. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a very long bath with a glass of Scotch whiskey.”

Brock reached up and took his hand. “Wait?”

Zemo looked back at him, a small smirk of amusement curling at the corner of his mouth. “What?”

“Stay.”

Zemo was silent for a moment, before he sat back down. “Okay,” he said, squeezing Brock’s hand. “I’ll stay.”

Brock looked down to hide his smile and kept holding the Baron’s hand.

*

It was late in the afternoon now, and Bucky was jogging along the street. He’d needed a break from everything, and a run was the best way to blow off steam. Too bad the day was still so hot.

He stopped in the shade of the trees for a moment, and rested with his back against one to cool down. He was too hot in long sleeves, but he still didn’t really want his identity known to the neighbors. He was sure that they were already intrigued enough that there were three men living together. Although, he was pretty sure that Zemo had been talking to the neighbors, and he’d probably been open about the fact that they were mates.

I guess we can always move if they decide to chase us out of town, Bucky thought. Still, he wasn’t exactly comfortable, like Zemo and even Brock seemed to be. Liking men was always something he’d had to hide, and after so long it was hard to be ‘out’, as they called it now. And he wasn’t exactly a very sociable person anymore. 

Bucky compromised with the heat of the day by rolling up his sleeves and took a swig from his water bottle. Then he pulled out his phone and texted Brock.

Thank you for today. I know it was hard x

He pocketed it in his shorts and kept running, taking a left down a side street. There was a grassy area on one side that seemed to be one of those places where people pulled over and dumped their trash, which was a shame because it would otherwise be a nice neighbourhood. He wouldn’t normally have taken much notice, but as he was passing he heard an unexpected sound.

“Meep?”

Bucky turned around, but there was nothing there. The noise had sounded like an animal, but perhaps he’d been wrong. After a few seconds, just as he was getting ready to continue his run, he heard it again. It was definitely a small animal. His heart sank when his eyes fixed on a battered cardboard box on the side of the road. 

He went over and squatted down next to it before opening it up. Inside there was a single small, grey kitten. It looked up at him with big blue eyes and made that little crying sound again. 

“You poor thing,” he exclaimed, reaching into the box. “Someone left you here, huh?”

The kitten sniffed at his hand, but didn’t seem particularly afraid of him so he cupped his metal hand and poured in some water from his bottle to make a makeshift bowl. The kitten lapped it up eagerly, clearly very thirsty. When it was done Bucky refilled it until he was out of water. Then he picked up the box, taking the shaded path through the woods that would lead him back to the house. 

*

Chapter Text

*

When he got home, Brock and Zemo seemed to be having make-up sex on the couch. They had not bothered to close the door to the living room, and Bucky could see Brock leaning over their Omega, Zemo’s head hanging off the couch.

“James? What’s in that dirty box you’ve brought into the house?”, Zemo called after him as Bucky walked past the door.

“Don’t worry about it,” Bucky called over his shoulder, trusting Brock to distract Zemo. He went straight to the downstairs bathroom. He set the box in the bath, stood there for a second, then pulled out his phone and typed into Google, ‘How to take care of a stray kitten.’

While he scrolled through the results with one hand, he watched as the kitten shakily climbed out of the box and began exploring the inside of the tub. From the pictures he was looking at, the little grey kitten he had looked to be about five or six weeks old. He figured the first thing to do would probably be to give it a bath. He was gonna need some supplies.

“I’ll be right back,” Bucky said to the kitten, before hurrying out of the room.

“James?”

Bucky paused outside the door to the living room.

“Uh-huh?”

“Can you get me a coca cola?”

“I’m a little busy right now, Zemo,” Bucky called back, rummaging through the boxes in the hall. He was pretty sure there had been a box of pet supplies in the basement, and sure enough he found some old toys, a flea comb and a bowl. No food, but they could get that easily from the store. 

“Please?”, Zemo called again, his voice husky.

“Get it yourself!”, Bucky called back, before realizing that that would mean that Zemo might interfere with what he was doing. “Actually, I’ll get it. You stay right there.”

He went into the kitchen and grabbed a coke and the container of dish soap, before coming back over to Zemo. 

“Oh, is he knotting you?”, Bucky asked, when Zemo remained lying on his front with Brock on top of him. 

“Yeah,” Brock grinned like a dope, “Feels real good.”

“Why did you bring the dish soap?”, Zemo asked, as he took the coke from Bucky and opened it, somehow managing to gracefully take a sip despite his precarious position.

Trust Zemo to notice that, Bucky thought. Well, since neither of his mates were in a position to do anything, perhaps now would be a good time to tell them. “I found a kitten by the side of the road and I’m going to take care of it,” he said quickly. “The soap is so I can give it a bath.”

As if on cue, Bucky heard the kitten crying out for him. 

“Coming!” he called, grabbing the box of pet supplies from the hallway and hurrying back to the bathroom before his mates could respond.

According to the guide he’d been reading, fleas were very dangerous to kittens, so it was important to get them off first. Plus, Zemo definitely wouldn’t be happy about there being fleas in the house. 

“Come on,” he murmured, picking up the little ball of fluff that was trying to climb up the side of the tub. The kitten squeaked in protest and tried to wiggle out of his grip, but Bucky held on to it gently but firmly. He dampened the fur before pouring some dish soap onto the kitten’s neck, then held its tiny body under the running water, careful not to get its head wet. 

“Mreoooow!”

“I know,” Bucky agreed. “It’s not very nice, but I gotta get you cleaned up.”

The soapy water that washed off the kitten and swirled down the drain was brownish-grey, and soon he realized that he wasn’t holding a grey kitten, but a little white one. When the water eventually started to run clean, he grabbed a hand towel and dried the kitten off before combing through its fluff to make sure that all the fleas were gone. Then he wrapped the kitten up like a burrito and cleaned its head and washed out its grimy eyes with a sponge. 

Once it was relatively dry, he took it up to their bedroom and it curled up to sleep on the pillow, apparently exhausted. He didn’t blame it. 

He turned around when he heard his mates’ footsteps on the stairs.

“It’s cute,” Brock said, leaning over Bucky’s shoulders to take a look. “What’re you gonna call it?”

“I dunno,” Bucky shrugged. “I don’t even know what sex it is. I guess I should probably take it to a veterinarian or something.”

Brock scooped it up and turned it upside down. The kitten squeaked in protest, its little paws waving as it tried to right itself.

“It’s a girl,” he said, putting the kitten back on the bed where she immediately curled up and wrapped her tail around herself. “So you’ll have to get her fixed unless you want a bunch of kittens a few months from now.”

“How do you know that?”

“I can tell. A lot of ferals used to hang around the junkyard,” Brock said. “They didn’t like me or the dogs much, but Pops said they were good at keeping the rat numbers down.”

“Well first we should get her some food,” Zemo said. “She’s probably hungry.”

“You don’t mind her being on our bed?” Bucky asked.

“No. Why would you think that?”

Bucky shrugged. “You’re very…”

Zemo tilted his head to one side, “Fussy?”

Bucky smiled and scratched his head awkwardly. “Well, kinda, yeah.”

“You’ve given her a bath, so I don’t mind,” Zemo said, sitting down on the bed and leaning over to gently stroke the small, dozing creature. “Besides, I think she’s rather sweet.”

*

A week later, the kitten had really settled in and Bucky was also feeling a lot better. His personal therapy was going well, they’d made more progress on clearing out the basement and he had been spending a lot of time at the beach nearby, relaxing in the summer sun. When they’d come home, the kitten would follow Bucky around meowing for attention until he picked her up and let her perch on his shoulder. She’d happily remain there while he chopped veggies or did other things around the house. He’d decided to name her Alpine, on Zemo’s suggestion, because she liked to be up high and with her shiny white fur would surely camouflage well in the Alps. Brock had spent an afternoon sulking because he’d wanted to name her Snowball. 

Bucky was currently sitting on the couch next to Brock, with Alpine curled up in his lap. She'd decided that Bucky was her person now, and he wasn't complaining about that. He liked having her to take care of, and stroking her snow white fur made him feel calm. And she was fun to play with. Earlier he'd been dragging a string across the ground for her to catch, and even Brock had had a turn, managing to get her to leap up high into the air.

"Dogs are better 'cos you can train 'em," he'd said. "But I don't mind cats. Especially if you're the one looking after her."

She didn't seem bothered by the noise of the action movie they were watching (it had been Brock's turn to choose), and was curled up in a ball on his lap. Brock had placed his bare feet up on the coffee table (Zemo didn't allow shoes in the house, a Sokovian custom), and was laughing at the screen and pointing out how unrealistic most of the action sequences were. 

As if I don't know that, Bucky thought. But he thought it was kind of cute that Bones was having such a good time. He didn't really care about the movie, but it was nice to spend time doing something low-stakes for once. Plus, his mate’s feet were kind of distracting - in a good way. Bucky found himself gazing at their curves, their gentle pink tinge, the way Brock would curl his toes a little when he laughed. He was barely paying attention to the film, but he couldn’t make himself care too much. 

Zemo had declined their invitation to watch the movie with them. The Omega still seemed to be spending a lot of time on his own and could usually be found reading in his nest, or translating the notebook. Bucky didn't think there was anything wrong, but it was a little unlike him to be so withdrawn. 

As if his thoughts had summoned him, Bucky could feel through the bond that Zemo was close by, and in fact had just come downstairs and quietly entered the room. 

Zemo came and sat down in one of their armchairs. “So, I was thinking…”, he said.

“Hang on,” Brock interrupted, grabbing the remote to pause the movie.

“As I was saying,” Zemo continued, when he had their attention. “I was thinking that maybe we should plan a date.”

Brock snorted. “Yeah, because the last one worked out so well.”

“He doesn’t mean that,” Bucky said apologetically to Zemo.

“Yeah, I do,” Brock mumbled.

“That’s exactly why I wanted to discuss it with you,” Zemo said. “I know that I can get a little caught up in making plans sometimes. I’d like to do better this time. .”

"Can't we just get a pizza and watch a movie or something?", Bones suggested. 

Zemo shook his head. "We do that on a regular basis. And besides, it's not helping us get to know one another, now is it?"

"I don't get all this 'getting to know you' stuff," the Alpha grumbled. "You're my mates. I don't have to know every little detail about your whole life."

"Couldn't hurt to try," Bucky said. "And I'd like to do some new things with you both.”

"I was actually going to suggest that you and Brock have a date," Zemo admitted. "We can do something together another time."

Bucky raised his eyebrows at him. "Sounds like you've already got a plan.”

Zemo tilted his head to one side. “Not a plan, exactly. More of a suggestion. As you know, I’ve started translating the Project Crossbones book. I won’t go into detail, but they made mention of that ridiculous simulacrum of a first date Brock told us about in therapy last week. I was thinking that a chance to recreate it might be beneficial for your relationship.”

"Uhhh…I'm not sure that doing it over would be a good idea, Baron," Brock said, looking at Bucky quickly. "Don't think he'd like that."

"Actually, I think I would," Bucky said. "I kind of like the idea of doing it right. I just can't believe you came up with that, Zemo."

Zemo shrugged. "I had a feeling that you might be interested, so I thought I'd suggest it.”

Bucky turned to Brock. "What do you think?"

"It’s okay with me," Brock replied. "Whatever you want."

"You're not uncomfortable with the idea?"

"Nah. It's kind of weird, but I don't mind. I guess we’ll just see how it goes."

*

The very next night, Zemo cooked a dinner of home-made macaroni & cheese. It was a rich creamy sauce he'd made from scratch, instead of the boxed variety Brock had complained about having to eat all those years ago. Alpine kept meowing and trying to climb up his leg as he was stirring the sauce, but she eventually calmed down after he bribed her with a little bowl of kitten-safe milk replacement. 

He set the pasta on the table, along with some fresh garlic bread, hand-chosen wine from his own collection, and candles. Then he scooped up Alpine and took her with him to his nest, where he planned to spend the evening reading a book.

When Brock came into the kitchen at exactly 6.00pm as per Zemo's instructions, he saw that James had already taken a seat at the table. James turned to face him with a smile. Brock took a seat across from him and noticed that Bucky had already served them both. The food looked good. 

“Would you like some wine, Brock?” Bucky offered to pour some into his mate’s glass.

“Sure. Uhh. I think.”

“You can have a beer if you want,” Bucky teased.

“Nah, let’s do this proper. I’ll have some wine.” Once his glass was filled, he offered it to Bucky, and they clinked glasses politely.

“Bit awkward, ain’t it?”

“It’s just me and you,” Bucky shrugged. “I don’t think it’s awkward.”

Brock took a forkful of the gooey mac 'n' cheese. He closed his eyes and hummed in appreciation. "Damn, how is he such a good cook? This is way better than what we had on our date."

Bucky smiled. "I think I do remember eating this with you, back in the day,” he said. “I just didn’t know that’s what that memory was. It did kind of stand out since I was allowed to talk, ask you questions.”

“Is it...good? Remembering that?”

He nodded. “Yeah, it’s a good memory. I wouldn’t want to do this if it wasn’t,” Bucky said, looking down at his plate. “It’s kind of funny how they gave us nothing to work with. Like, they tried to make a date out of us eating boxed macaroni in a lab. But because it was you, I didn’t care.”

“The pasta they gave us sucked,” Brock said. “All sloppy.”

“I remember it being the best thing I’d tasted in months,” Bucky said wryly.

Brock didn’t know what to say to that so he took another mouthful of pasta. "So…how's this supposed to go?", he asked, smiling awkwardly. “Haven’t been on many dates.”

“Really?” Bucky said, pouring himself another glass of wine. “I thought you saw other guys?”

“Yeah, but we didn’t go out or nothin’. Just hook ups. Wouldn’t have been safe to get involved, and I didn’t wanna do that anyway.”

Bucky nodded thoughtfully, taking a sip of his wine. “So, you ever have any good dates?”

Brock frowned, chewing a mouthful of pasta. “Uh, yeah. Lemme think. Oh yeah, there was this guy back when I was a teenager.”

“What was his name?”

“Elliot, uh, something-or-other. Him and his dad were just in town for a few days.”

“What did you guys do?”

“I didn’t even know if it was a date at the start. We just kind of hung around the arcade and then went and got ice cream. Then we went up onto the hill in the park and he kissed me. Which was kind of crazy, because I hadn’t told him I thought he was cute, but I guess he could just tell. And then…” 

“And then?”

“It was the first time I ever… the only time I ever purred, I think. Properly. I thought he’d be scared and leave once he realized I was an Alpha, but he didn’t. He stayed. He liked it.”

“What happened next?”

“Stayed out all night. Watched the sun come up over the city. Then he had to go back to Colorado.”

“Sounds nice,” Bucky said. “I used to go on a lot of dates like that.”

Brock stared at him. “With guys?”

Bucky shook his head. “No, no way. I mean, I knew there were places you could go, clubs and things like that where you could be open, but I never did.”

“Why not?”

Bucky shrugged. “I liked going on dates with girls. Maybe it would have been different if I’d met the right guy, but I was pretty hung up on Steve. Not that I actually realized that’s what it was at the time.”

“Did you always know you liked both?”

Bucky thought about this for a moment before saying. “Yeah, I think so. When I was a kid, there was this boy next door called Bobby and I got this idea I was gonna marry him when I grew up. And I told ma and she said I wasn’t, because boys can’t do that. So I said, ‘Well, then I’m gonna marry Linda,’ which made her laugh.”

“Who?”

“Oh, his sister,” Bucky said, pausing for a moment to think. “They were twins.”

Brock shook his head in amazement. “It’s crazy how you can remember stuff like that.”

Bucky nodded. “Bits and pieces. I’m just happy I started getting the good ones back, as well as the really bad ones.”

“That’s a good one?”

“Well, compared to the rest of them,” Bucky said, breaking off a piece of the garlic bread and popping it into his mouth. “What about you? Did you always know?”

Brock took a swig of his wine. “Not sure. I hated kids teasing me about having crushes on girls and stuff like that. I thought it was stupid. And I used to watch WWE…”

“What’s that?”

“Wrestling show. I was really into it. I used to cut out pictures of my favorite wrestlers from magazines and stick them on my bedroom wall.”

“That’s pretty brave.”

“Not really, no one in my family noticed. I don’t think they even knew until my brother saw me with a guy.”

“You told us about that in therapy.”

“Oh yeah, I guess I did. I don’t really wanna talk about that stuff right now though. Just want to have a nice time with you.”

“Yeah, of course. I get it.”

“Speaking of dating,” Brock said. “I wanna know what you’d wanna do another time.”

“On another date?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

Bucky thought about this for a moment before saying. “I like having dinner here, or at a quiet restaurant. Maybe going for a hike or something. Spending time at the beach with a picnic sounds pretty good too.”

“So you wouldn’t wanna go to a club or something?”

“What, like a gay club?”

Brock nodded.

Bucky frowned. “Sometimes it’s hard for me to be around a lot of people and stay relaxed, and there’d be a lot of lights and noise. But then other times it’s fine. So…maybe?”

“Don’t wanna do nothing that makes you uncomfortable.”

“I think a bar would be better,” Bucky said after a moment. “But it wouldn’t be my first choice. I bet Zemo would love that, but you guys can’t really go somewhere without me because of the terms of his parole.”

“Oh right. Yeah, sometimes I forget about that because we always go out together.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, but it sucks if you guys want to go somewhere alone.” He sighed and said. “There’s a lot we can do though, so I just want to think about that for now. You know, I wouldn’t like a club but I would like dancing.”

“What, like slow dancing?”

“Yeah, exactly. I don’t think we’ve ever danced together.”

“Dunno how to do fancy ‘40s dancing or nothing,”

“I could teach you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Sure! I’ve got records. It’ll be swell.”

Brock smiled. When he talked like that it reminded him of when Winter was getting cheeky. But, if that wasn’t Winter, if that was Bucky…then they really were the same person. He really was starting to see that more and more.

When they’d finished the pasta and brought out the lemon tart that Zemo had made for dessert, Bucky said, “Can I ask you something?”

Brock nodded. “Sure, go ahead.”

“This is going to sound weird, but were you actually attracted to me when we went on our date?”

Brock thought about this for a moment before he said, “Yeah, big time. I was kind of scared of you too, but there was definitely something there. You were older than me then. But I just kept looking at your eyes, your mouth, then getting nervous. Thinkin’ about mating with you, gettin’ bonded. I wanted it.”

“I don’t know if I’m remembering this right, but I think I told you that you were attractive,” Bucky said. 

“Maybe,” Brock replied. “You kept trying to speak to me in Russian, and I had no idea what you were saying half the time.”

“It’s not my fault you don’t speak it very well ,” Bucky replied in Russian.

“Hey, I understood that ,” Brock said, rolling his eyes at him. 

Bucky smiled mischievously. “So if I say; you’re my strong, sexy Alpha and I want you to fuck me…?”

Brock’s eyes darkened as he looked into his mate’s blue eyes, darkened by wine and arousal, and when he spoke his voice came out husky. “Right now?”

Bucky smirked and took another sip of his wine. “Maybe after dinner, and a dance.”

“You’re worse than the Baron,” Brock grumbled. “The two of you are always teasin’ me.”

“But you like it,” Bucky said, pointing his fork at him.

Brock grinned. “You’re getting cocky.”

He felt Bucky’s leg lightly brush his under the table, and Brock couldn’t take his eyes away as he watched as his plush lips curved up into a playful smirk. “You like that too.”

“You trying to charm me?”

“Charm you? Whatever gave you that idea.”

“Everything you’re doing right now.”

Bucky got up and went over to the record player. He selected a record, slid it carefully out of its sleeve and set it on the turntable. As it began to spin, a slow and gentle melody filled the room . “Come on,” Bucky said, holding out his hand. “Dance with me.”

“Fine, if that’s what you want,” Brock said, draining the rest of his wine and getting to his feet. “But I can’t dance.”

“Like I said,” Bucky said, placing his left hand, his metal one, in Brock’s while his other, the flesh one, gently held his waist, “I’ll teach you.”

Brock sighed, and let his mate guide him. It was hard to concentrate with their bodies pressed together like this. He was keenly aware of all the places they touched, hand to hand, fingers interlaced, his other hand on Bucky’s shoulder while his mate held his waist. The way their bodies came together, his chest pressed against Bucky’s, feeling firm muscle beneath his white t-shirt. And the way Bucky held him close, moving his hips slowly, not teasing, more like stoking the desire building between them.

Brock leaned into his mate’s neck and inhaled the green, verdant scent. When Brock pulled back from his mate’s neck to look into his eyes, the pupils were dark pools drawing him in. 

“Hey, you’re not half bad,” Bucky whispered. Brock felt the breath of his words against his lips and leaned in to kiss him. Bucky seemed surprised, but returned the kiss eagerly, his mouth hot and eager. 

“You wanna go upstairs?”

*

When they opened the door to the bedroom they saw that Zemo had made a little nest for them with comfy pillows, and there were even candles on the bedside table.

“How do you wanna do this?”, Brock asked, when they’d been making out for a while on the bed. Bucky was panting, his lips flushed red from the kisses. With the tip of one finger he traced the outline of the bite Brock had sucked into his neck suggestively. 

“I want you to fuck me,” he said, “But first I want your mouth on me, I want you to open me up.”

Rumlow grinned and moved so that he was kneeling between his mate’s legs. Bucky had already removed his pants, but he was still wearing a pair of black briefs that outlined his half hard cock. Brock scented him, rubbing his face against him and let out an involuntary growl when he realized that the fabric was damp with slick. 

“You want me, huh?”, he panted, pulling them down.

Bucky lifted his hips to help him, reclining with his flesh arm behind his head. “You know I do.”

Rumlow hummed appreciatively as he bent to lick the slick that had spilled over Bucky’s cock. His mate let out a moan, the sound sending heat to Brock’s cock which was still confined inside his boxers. Sometimes he liked to ignore it, and focus on his partner’s pleasure. That delayed gratification made it feel even better when he was eventually allowed to- no, when he eventually came. He didn’t have to ask anyone’s permission. Not anymore. 

Forget about that now, he told himself. You’re with Bucky; your mate, and he wants you. So what are you waiting for?

He moved down to lick straight from the source of his mate’s slick, the flat of his tongue lapping at the sensitive muscles around his hole. He was rewarded by Bucky’s metal finger’s pressed gently to the back of his head, tangling his hair and pulling slightly in need. Brock must have tensed slightly because Bucky instantly released him.

“Is that okay?”, his mate panted.

“Yeah,” Brock growled, grabbing Bucky’s hand and guiding him back. “Don’t stop.”

Bucky nodded, his grip gentle at first but after a minute or two he was pulling and crying out as Brock began to work him open. Bucky was so slick and wet for him, and he tasted so good that Brock didn’t ever want this to stop. Every movement of his lips and tongue plunging into him brought a gasp or a groan from Bucky’s lips. Zemo probably would have teased him, drawn it out just that little bit longer to wind their mate up, but Brock was far too enthusiastic to hold back from the hot, sweet slick taste of him.

Bucky was clearly intoxicated by the pleasure Brock was giving him, judging from the needy moans and the way his achingly hard cock was dripping precum onto his stomach. He fisted Rumlow’s hair in his need for him, but the moment Brock pulled back he gently released him. 

“You ready for more?”, Brock asked, licking the slick coating his lips. 

Bucky nodded, eyes dark and shining as he wrapped a hand around his leaking cock. “Yes.”

Brock found that his fingers pressed in easily, but when he slipped in a third and curled them Bucky cried out, his hand gripping his cock. “Oh fuck yes, please, do it again!”

Rumlow did so, ever so slowly, and kept going until Bucky was whining and begging for more. Only then did he ease his fingers out and press the head of his cock into him. Bucky pulled Brock down to kiss him eagerly, taking Rumlow’s breath away. He moaned against Bucky’s lips as he pushed into him, and felt how tight and hot he was. 

“Is this how?”, Bucky panted as they began to build up a pace.

“What?”

“When we bonded.”

Brock paused, holding himself still on top of him. “Fuck, I don’t know. I think you were on top.”

Bucky nodded. “Okay, can we do it like that then?”

“Yeah sure,” Brock said, pulling out and rolling onto his back. “You want it to be like it was, huh?”

“Yeah, is that weird?”

Brock shook his head as his mate straddled him. “I don’t think it’s weird. We can do whatever you want.”

Bucky gasped as he sank down slowly onto Brock’s cock. He stayed like that for a moment with his eyes closed, and Brock gripped his mate’s hips to hold him steady while his body adjusted to the feeling of being filled. “I like you being on top,” he said. 

Bucky opened his eyes, “Oh yeah?”

Brock nodded, returning his mate’s gaze. “Yeah, feels good.”

Bucky began to rock against him slowly, and Rumlow brought his hips up to meet him.  “Did I touch myself, when we were doing this?”, he panted.

“Sometimes, yeah. Other times I did it for you. You liked me touching you.”

“I still like it now,” Bucky said with a smirk.

“S’that you asking me to touch your cock?”

“Maybe.”

When Brock did so, Bucky let his head fall back with a moan, exposing the full length of his neck in a way that was so like Winter it left Rumlow breathless. 

"Yes," he groaned, fucking himself on Rumlow’s cock. "Oh please, please, I’m yours…"

Bucky felt warmth swirling in his chest as he looked down into Brock’s deep brown eyes blown wide with lust. His heart was lifting, filling with warmth as he sank down onto his Alpha’s cock again and again. 

“Oh fuck, please…” he moaned, leaning down to press his lips against Brock’s, each thrust of his hips pressing his hard length into the tight fist of Rumlow’s hand.

Was it like this before? Bucky thought, as his pleasure built and his strokes became ever more filled with need and his Alpha growled and dug his paws into the flesh of his hips. Did I just forget?

The Alpha growled, grasping Bucky’s hips roughly and urging him on, thrusting up into him until Bucky was completely full. Bucky closed his eyes as he felt himself tighten around the Alpha’s cock helplessly, thrusting forward to get more of the sensation. When he opened them again, Brock was looking up at him with an expression of such need Bucky felt like his heart was going to break.

“Yes, fuck yes,” Brock gasped, reaching up to capture Bucky’s lips as he thrust his hips up to meet every one of Bucky’s strokes. “I want to feel you…”

Bucky felt more than heard Brock’s thoughts in his mind, suddenly coherent;

….feels so…want to…fucking perfect…he’s…

I can’t believe it, Bucky thought, holding his mate close. After all this time, I can actually hear him! I don’t know where I end and he begins it’s…

…so good…he’s everything…gonna…

“Yes, please, please…”

Each word from Bucky’s lips was like a prayer being chanted, full of such naked, unrestrained wanting that Brock felt like he'd been split open. And he could feel his mate, really feel him as he kissed him desperately and held him safe and tight in his arms as he claimed him; how every stroke made his body arch with pleasure, a cry falling from his lips…

"I love you, I love you, please…"

Brock looked up at his face, and his mate was looking down at him with such longing that it left him speechless. He was so open, his expression so like Winter that for a moment he felt he really was looking back at him. 

But of course he was, they were the same person! Brock knew that… but actually seeing it right in front of his eyes brought the truth home to him. This was his mate, had always been his mate. And Bucky- Winter was cupping his cheek in one hand, his big blue eyes holding him in place, keeping him with him even as he was falling apart. 

"I see you," he gasped. "I see you,"

Brock kissed him desperately with a moan of longing, feeling himself dissolving into his mate, his mate all around him. This was everything, he never wanted it to end, he loved him so much. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna come!”, Bucky moaned as the bond lit up with pleasure and he felt Brock coming inside him, biting down on his neck as he did so and pulling him with him over the edge. He was still coming as he felt his Alpha beginning to knot him, and they both lay in each other’s arms, breathing heavily, their bodies tied together.

Brock felt his mate's arms around him, keeping him steady by reminding him that this was real and not something he'd imagined in a dream.  Brock sighed as his knot released, staying inside him for a minute before carefully pulling out. 

“That’s what it should have been like,” Rumlow murmured, when they lay together after, slowly falling asleep.

"Hmm?", Bucky replied sleepily.

"When we bonded. Should have been like that."

Bucky brought one of Brock’s hands to his lips and kissed the spot just over the scent gland on his wrist, where the pulse beat steadily beneath the surface. 

I love you , Bucky thought again, though he didn't say it. It was a lot harder, now that they weren’t caught up in the heat of passion. I hope he knows that, even if he can't believe it. I don't want either of us to be alone, ever again.

"It should have been like that," Bucky said, echoing his mate's words. "But at least we’re together now."

"Still can't believe it," Rumlow murmured, stroking his stomach in a way that felt soothing for Bucky. "Sometimes it feels like a dream."

"You're not dreaming," Bucky said with a yawn. “You're wide awake."

"Not for much longer," Brock murmured.

He tensed slightly when he heard the door open, but Bucky remained where he was, feeling Zemo's presence.

Their other mate stuck his head around the door. He was wearing a dressing down and was evidently dressed for bed. “How are you both?”

Bucky grinned sleepily at him. “Good. Very good. Thanks for dinner and the nest.”

"How d'ya make this thing so comfy Baron?", Brock mumbled sleepily.

"Omega secrets."  Zemo said with a wink climbing in beside them. Rumlow rolled his eyes and pulled the Baron in close to nip his shoulder before cuddling up close to sandwich the Sokovian between himself and a sleepy Bucky. Brock huffed and the exhale of air made a rumbling sound in his chest. Bucky shivered slightly as he felt a warm, vibrating feeling in the bond that seemed to run over his skin.

“Are you…purring?”, Bucky asked in disbelief. It felt just like when Zemo was purring.

“I dunno,” the Alpha huffed again. “Maybe.”

“But you don’t do that.”

“I do. Just…not for a long time.”

“It sounds different,” Zemo commented.

Brock looked alarmed, his face shockingly vulnerable and the rumbling purr stopped.
“No, it’s good, I promise!” Zemo said. “It sounds lovely.”

“I like it too,” Bucky said, closing his eyes. “It feels amazing in the bond. Makes me feel really close to you.”

The Alpha buried his face against Bucky’s neck, as if trying to hide from him. Then he said, “Feel close to you too. Just…”

“What?”

“Last time I did this, my boyfriend put a cigarette out on my arm.”

“Donny?”, Zemo asked.

“Yeah,” Brock growled. “Fucking Donny.”

Bucky sighed, stroking his mate’s back. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

Brock shrugged. “Yeah, me too. Fucker ruined my life.”

They were silent for a moment, and Bucky thought that was it, but then he felt that warm, chuffing sound rumbling from his Alpha’s chest.

“Why now?”, Bucky asked. “I mean, we’ve been together a long time.”

Brock turned his head to look at Zemo. “Not like this.”

Zemo smiled back at him. “No, not like this.”

*

The next morning, Bucky woke up slowly, stretching his body and rolling onto his side with a sigh. Brock had left at some point for his own bed, and he found himself nuzzling against Zemo, who was still asleep on his back next to him. His mate gave a sleepy purr of acknowledgement and tilted his head back so that Bucky had access to his neck. He licked at Zemo's neck, tasting his mate's sweet, familiar scent. 

"I'm half asleep, moj ljubavi ," Zemo murmured, followed by a string of unintelligible Sokovian. 

Bucky whined slightly, wanting his mate. His body felt hot and restless. The covers had somehow become wrapped around him and he tugged them off himself irritably. Once he was free of them, he buried his head in Zemo's shoulder, breathing in his scent and feeling the bond humming between them.

This seemed to wake his mate up, and Zemo huffed at him sleepily. "What do you want, James?"

Bucky wanted…he wasn't sure what, but something. He almost felt like he needed Zemo to tell him what it was. He cuddled up to him and wrapped a leg over Zemo's, feeling his mate's thigh between his legs. He could feel his mate's arousal through the bond and it felt good to press against him like this, rocking his hips slightly as he began to get hard. 

"Are you slick, James?", Zemo asked in surprise, turning to look at him, his brown eyes dark with lust.

Bucky nodded, just as surprised as Zemo. He hadn't felt this for a long time. 

Zemo stroked his hair, hand coming down to his cheek. "You feel hot…do you think this could be a heat?"

Bucky frowned. He wasn't sure if he'd had one before. He must have with Brock, but he didn't remember. 

Zemo leaned in and Bucky tilted his head back instinctively, allowing the Omega access to his neck. "Hmm, yes, I can smell heat-scent on your skin," Zemo purred. "You smell delicious, James."

Bucky moaned at the praise. He wasn't sure why this was happening, but he was a Beta bonded to two mates, one of whom was an Alpha, so perhaps this was what his body was supposed to do. Maybe now that he was more relaxed about being around Brock, his body felt able to let it happen.

He let Zemo push him back onto the bed, and as the other Omega straddled his hips he pressed his hard cock up for attention. 

"Stay," Zemo commanded, moving down so that he was kneeling between Bucky's legs. Bucky moaned as Zemo circled a finger around his hole and then pressed in. It was easy for him to do so, and Bucky hadn't realized until then just how slick he was. He gasped, feeling his cock twitch, completely ignored and leaking precum. 

"Do you like this, James?", Zemo asked. "Do you like what I'm doing to you?" 

Bucky nodded, a little whine of need escaping his throat as Zemo pressed another in. "You're so ready, aren't you? I can tell," Zemo said, sliding in a third. Bucky felt the stretch this time and the tightness felt good and full. This was just what he needed. 

Zemo seemed excited and aroused, but his eyes remained focused. Bucky gasped, moaning loudly in protest when Zemo removed his slick fingers. But then Zemo wrapped them around his cock and all thoughts seemed to disappear. There was only the pleasurable sensation of his mate stroking him, hand wet with Bucky's own slick, and he gasped as he felt more of it pouring out of him. He was almost coming already, his cock hard and ready in Zemo's hand. As his mate increased his pace, faster and faster he felt it wash over him and he cried out as he came hard over his mate's hand and his stomach. 

"Good boy," Zemo purred, lining his cock up and pressing in slowly. Bucky gasped as he was filled up by the Omega's cock. Zemo was thick, and even as slick as Bucky was, he wasn't used to being fucked like this. Zemo leaned down to kiss him and Bucky responded eagerly, wrapping his legs around his mate's waist to let him sink even deeper into him. 

He gasped, arching his back as Zemo wrapped a hand around his cock which was already beginning to get hard again. His mate stroked him from base to tip, and he felt pleasure sparking up his spine with every stroke. He was so hard and so full at the same time, he almost couldn’t stand how badly he needed his mate, who he felt was holding him together and taking him apart at the same time. 

Bucky’s breathing was coming in short, sharp pants, in time with Zemo’s thrusts. His matewasn’t gentle, his every touch filled with need and a fierce determination that Bucky didn’t know what to make of. It was like Zemo was trying to make him come over and over, and Bucky wasn’t going to complain about that. He wanted to take whatever his mate was giving him, and he definitely felt an urgency, an almost instinctive need to submit to the other Omega that he didn’t understand but had no choice but to obey. 

Fuck, he felt like there was pleasure sparking up his spine with every stroke, and the heat in his cock, god he was so hard, he wanted- no, needed his mate so badly. “Fuck, please...”

Zemo’s head whipped around when the door opened and Brock poked his head around the door. 

“Hey, are you guys…”

“Yes, obviously,” Zemo growled at the intruding Alpha.

“Oh fuck, I want him,” Bucky panted. “I want the Alpha right now. I want him inside me.”

Brock stared back at him in disbelief, “Is he okay?”

“He’s having a pseudo heat,” Zemo sighed. “It’s making him quite demanding.”

Brock pulled his t-shirt over his head quickly and began unfastening his pants.

Zemo raised his eyebrows at him. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

The Alpha shrugged. “You said he’s in heat, so…”

“No!” Zemo snapped. “There has to be an order, protocol. Do you not understand?”

“Okay, okay. I’ll go if it’s stressing you out so much, Baron.”

“Wait,” Zemo said. “Stay. But just…sit over on the chair for a moment.”

Brock frowned. “So you want me to watch?”

“Yes,” Zemo said. “And then you fuck me, and then James.”

“Uhh okay, but isn’t he the one in heat?”

Zemo ran his hand through James’s hair and pulled slightly. Bucky bared his neck submissively, his mouth open and wanting, closing his lips around Zemo’s fingers when he pushed them in.

“He’s fine,” Zemo said. “I can feel through the bond that it doesn’t hurt him. He’s a Beta so it’s not painful. It just makes him needy.”

In response, Bucky moaned and sucked on his fingers obediently. When he withdrew them, Bucky lay there panting, looking up at his mate.

“Zemo,” he moaned, when his Omega rocked his hips forward slowly, 

“Hmm?”

"I want the Alpha.”

“No,” Zemo growled, pressing his arm down. “You have to wait.”

“Why?”, Bucky whined. “I want him now.”

Zemo pulled out, making him gasp before thrusting back in again.

"You're mine, James," Zemo panted. “Submit to me.”

“Okay, whatever you want,” Bucky gasped. “Please just let me cum…”

He cried out as Zemo sank his teeth into his neck, feeling his cock throb and spill between their two bodies as he came yet again. 

“That’s my good boy,” Zemo purred, licking the claiming bite he’d made on his mate’s neck.

Bucky shivered pleasurably as a little aftershock went through him. The bond between them felt electric, and every movement felt like gold sparks covering their skin. 

“Mmm feels good,” Bucky murmured, inhaling Zemo’s scent. He felt sated, at least temporarily, as, Zemo pulled out and lay next to him .

“You ready, Baron?”, Brock asked, coming over to the bed. Bucky felt a yearning for the Alpha, but he was too tired, too fucked out to move right now. It was much easier to just lay right here and watch his two mates. But it didn’t stop him moaning aloud as their Alpha slid into Zemo, and Bucky could almost feel their Alpha’s cock inside him, so good inside Zemo…

It wasn’t long before Brock came, and he waited for a moment before realizing that he wasn’t knotting like he usually would. Zemo pushed him off and turned to Bucky.

“Go ahead, James,” Zemo panted. “It’s your turn now.”

The Alpha gripped his cock and began to quickly stroke it to hardness.

“You want this?”, Brock rumbled.

Bucky nodded, turning onto his front for the Alpha and presenting instinctively. He needed so badly to feel his mate inside him, it almost hurt how much he wanted to be filled up. 

Brock wasted no time in positioning himself on top of him, nuzzling at Bucky’s neck, licking him before nipping at his skin with a little growl. Bucky felt his heated breath and the stubble roughly brushing against his skin. The weight of his body pinning him down, and Bucky pushed back against him instinctively.

“Fuck, you’re so slick,” Brock groaned as he pressed into him. “Really wanna fuck you.”

Bucky moaned as the tip of his mate’s cock slid in, and Brock stilled for a moment, allowing him to adjust to the sensation. But Bucky was pressing back against him, ridiculously turned on by how easily he could take him after being so thoroughly fucked by their Omega. And he was so slick, it really wasn’t long before he was taking his Alpha’s cock all the way to the base, and Bones was pressing him down into the mattress growling in his ear. Bucky turned his head, only to see Zemo there next to him, and he gasped as the Omega kissed him possessively, all teeth and tongue. It was so much, and he moaned against his mate’s lips as he felt their Alpha pull his hips back, only to thrust into him again. 

“You feel so good, Buck,” he growled, “So hot and sexy. Love the way you’re pushing back against me like that.”

“Want you, Alpha,” Bucky panted needily, “Please fuck me.”

“He will, James,” Zemo said, kissing him softly. Bucky whined, kissing him back hungrily, plunging his tongue into his mouth. He could feel his mate’s arousal through the bond they shared, and he loved knowing how much Zemo was getting off on this too, how much he loved seeing him getting fucked by their Alpha.

And Brock was properly fucking him now, each stroke sending waves of pleasure through Bucky’s body, his cock pressed hard and leaking against the mattress as pleas fell from his lips. “God please, Bones, I need more, please, Alpha!” 

Bucky felt himself getting lost in the feeling of being so full of pleasure, safe and grounded with his mates taking care of him. And then he felt his mates bite down on each side of his neck, and his vision whited out and he was seeing stars, and he was coming so hard around his mate, tightening around his Alpha’s cock and feeling his Omega licking his skin to heal the claiming bite he’d made as Brock came inside him. 

“Oh fuck,” Bucky groaned, feeling the aftershocks running through him. His Alpha’s weight was warm on top of him, and he heard Bones growl in satisfaction as he felt his knot begin to swell, holding them together. 

“That’s so good, Bones,” Bucky murmured. 

“Mmm, just gonna keep you like this,” the Alpha rumbled. 

“On your knot?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Not always, I should think,” Zemo said, nipping at Brock’s shoulder for attention.

“Hey, Baron,” Brock slurred contentedly. “Haven’t forgotten you, s’okay.”

“Leave him,” Bucky said, pulling his other mate into a kiss. Zemo responded to Bucky’s slow pace with one eager, hungry and full of need. When he pulled back, Bucky noticed that the Omega’s eyes were glazed and there was sweat beading his skin.

“Oh fuck, you’re not in heat again are you?”

“I don’t know, perhaps,” Zemo said. “Sometimes two heats can be close together, especially with new mates. I experienced that after I’d bonded with Heike.”

“Hmm, well I’m not complainin’”, Brock grunted, easing out of Bucky and laying down next to him.

“It’s not ideal,” Zemo said. “I still don’t feel entirely recovered from the last one, but it’s manageable.”

“You sure it’s okay?”, Bucky asked. 

“I have both of you here with me, so I’m not concerned,” Zemo said. “Though, I should probably go to a doctor afterwards, just to make certain that everything is normal.”

“What do you need, Baron?”

“There’s supplies upstairs in my nest room,” Zemo panted. “Towels, sheets, wet wipes, some food and bottled water…everything. I thought we’d be in my nest, but apparently not.”

*

Just as Zemo predicted, his heat didn’t last longer than a day. But even so, their mate seemed exhausted by the end of it and ended up staying in bed for the next few days while he recovered. Both of them came to check in on him, and the kitten curled up with him in the nest he’d made in the bed while he rewatched episodes of, ‘My Daughter’s Alpha’. 

Bucky cooked for them while Zemo was recovering because the meals that Brock made were usually pretty terrible. The Alpha usually just ate unseasoned chicken, broccoli and rice if he was cooking for himself. Sometimes he had canned tuna instead of chicken, but it seemed like that was pretty much the only thing he knew how to make. And Bucky didn’t want anything to do with his breakfast protein shakes. 

Bucky was pretty good at chicken noodle soup, which he knew Zemo liked. His ma had always made that for him when he was sick, so it was nice that he could make it for his mate now. Not that Zemo was sick exactly, but it was taking him a lot longer to recover than it had the last time. And this one hadn’t even lasted that long. 

When Bucky went up to see him, he still seemed exhausted, as if it was difficult for him just to stay awake. He had managed to take a bath the previous day, but that had taken all of his energy and for the rest of the day he’d just slept. Brock was snuggled up to him protectively, guarding him as he slept and he jumped when Bucky opened the door.

“Just me, Bones,” Bucky said, setting the tray down on the bedside table.

“Hm, okay,” Brock said, eyeing him warily. “I’m gonna go pee but I’ll be right back.”

Bucky watched as the Alpha got up from the bed and walked over to the en suite. The movement seemed to rouse Zemo, who stirred sleepily and opened his eyes. 

“Hello, James,” he murmured.

“Hey,” Bucky said, sitting on the bed next to him. “How’re you doing?”

Zemo shrugged. “Fine.”

“So, the same then?”

“A little better.”

Brock returned, quickly closing the door behind him. 

“Brock, can you go take a shower please?”, Zemo asked, scenting the air. “You smell very strongly of Alpha.”

“Yeah, exactly,” the Alpha said. “Gotta make sure you’re protected.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Zemo sighed. “James, tell him.”

“Maybe give him some space?”, Bucky suggested.

“Fine,” Brock grunted, stepping back into the bathroom. “I’ll shower, if that’s what you want. But I’m coming straight back.”

Zemo rolled his eyes. “He feels like he needs to guard me every moment while I’m like this.”

Bucky smirked at him. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“I keep telling him I’m alright, but he won’t listen.”

“Yeah, about that,” Bucky said. “I figured you wouldn’t be well enough for therapy, so I cancelled our session this week.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s this afternoon, and you can still barely get out of bed.”

Zemo frowned and pulled himself up into a sitting position, “It’s Thursday already?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize.”

Bucky passed him the tray and watched as Zemo began eating.

“I’m worried about you,” Bucky admitted. “I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

Zemo shook his head. “I’m just tired.”

“Exhausted, more like. You should go see a doctor.”

“I don’t think there’s any cause for concern. Like I said, I have had heats close together like this in the past.”

Bucky tilted his head to one side. “Remind me again how long you were on suppressants for?”

Zemo sighed. “Fine, I take your point. I’ll go.”

*

Brock wasn’t happy about Zemo going in to see a doctor alone. His mates had told him about the bond testing, which in hindsight might have been a mistake because it was making him nervous about how his Omega might be treated. 

“For the last time, it will be fine moj tigric ,” Zemo said, stroking his cheek. “You can wait right outside. I’ll just be on the other side of the door.”

“Just go,” Bucky said, “He’ll be okay.”

Brock folded his arms and took a seat, jigging his leg nervously. After a few minutes he took out a packet of cigarettes.

“Bones, you can’t smoke in here,” Bucky whispered.

“I’m not,” Brock said, sticking the cigarette behind his ear. “I’m going outside.”

It wasn’t long before Zemo came out of the room, his face a blank mask. 

Bucky’s heart sank. “What happened?”

“Nothing whatsoever,” Zemo said, walking past him. Bucky caught up with him and matched his mate’s pace. 

“Come on, tell me.”

Zemo sighed. “He didn’t listen to a word I said.”

Bucky stared at him in disbelief. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, he said that I was probably overreacting and wrote me a prescription for suppressants and told me to take them,” Zemo said, handing him the prescription with a disgusted look on his face. “Completely ridiculous, but not unexpected.”

“I should go back there and talk to him-”

Zemo shook his head. “He won’t listen to you anymore than he will to me. Do you have any idea how people see you now that you’re bonded, James?”

Bucky looked back at him. “I’ve been bonded for a long time, Zemo.”

“I mean now that you’re…visible, as it were. Other Betas will treat you differently.”

“I know that, okay?” Bucky insisted. “Look, we can find you another doctor. One who actually knows how to treat Omegas.”

“No, I really do feel better,” Zemo said. “I don’t think it’s necessary. Come, let’s put our Alpha out of his misery. I’m sure he’s anxiously waiting in the parking lot.”

*

 

Chapter Text

*

True to his word, Zemo had started translating the black book that contained the information about the Crossbones project. First into Sokovian, because he had a much better grasp of the nuances of his native language, before translating that into English. It was slow progress, made even more difficult by the technicalities and acronyms that HYDRA was so fond of using. 

He sat in a comfortable leather chair at the desk in the office, with the Crossbones book, an advanced Russian dictionary, a blank notebook in which he was writing the translation, and a glass of whiskey. So far he’d only worked his way through the glossary of terms at the start of the book, which would hopefully lend some understanding to the rest of it, but he hadn’t yet got into the main text. 

Despite Zemo’s curiosity about the contents of the book, he’d respected James’ wishes and waited until he’d said that he was ready to proceed. And James had finally done so yesterday morning when they were all having breakfast together at the kitchen table. Apparently James had been thinking about it, and he felt that it was time, because he and Brock were in a much better place now. Zemo definitely agreed that the two of them really did seem much better. They were spending more time together, and Brock even wanted to sleep in the same bed as them sometimes now. And while it was true that their bond with him was still hard to understand, they all felt much more relaxed around each other.

Taking a bracing sip of his whiskey, Zemo opened the book. It began with a date. March 2nd, 1960.

Zemo stared at the date. That couldn’t be right, surely? His mates had bonded in 1991, or so Brock had said. But then Zemo recalled from his own research he’d done on the HYDRA files, that the Winter Soldier had been in the US at that time. That couldn’t be a coincidence.

He read on. It seemed like a lab report, though it was handwritten. Maybe more like notes or a first draft, then?

Entry 1

LEAD- Dr. Ophelia Sarkissian (EC 29383)

Ophelia Sarkissian …Zemo knew that name. In fact, he’d met her in person, when he was only a teenager. She’d been one of the doctors at the institute he’d been sent to while they started him on heat suppressants, which had been truly awful at that time. He’d later learned that it was a HYDRA facility doing experiments on Omegas, though of course as the son of a Baron he’d been spared that. He wasn’t surprised to discover she was involved in this project. He continued reading.

The ‘Asset’, otherwise known as ‘The Winter Soldier’, is the focus of this research. Originally designed by Doctor Arnim Zola, the Asset’s programming has been gradually degrading for the last decade. It presents numerous malfunctions, including escape attempts and unauthorized termination of HYDRA operatives, including two of its handlers: Ivan Petrov and Dimitri Nikolayev. Therefore, better measures are necessary to ensure its compliance. 

In recent years there has been discussion of decommissioning the Asset and stripping it for parts. Myself and Doctor Zola believe that this would be a waste of the Asset’s potential, and that there is much that can be done to make improvements before we reach that stage.

Hypothesis: Bonding the Asset to an Alpha loyal to HYDRA, who would act as its primary handler, would ensure better control of the Asset and reduce the risk of further malfunctions.

James had told him that on long missions the programming would start breaking down, and that he remembered escaping several times after killing his handlers. However, he would always be recaptured, because HYDRA didn’t want him falling into the hands of their enemies.

Zemo took a sip of his whiskey thoughtfully. 

James had only told him about bonding to Brock. He hadn’t told him that HYDRA had tried, and failed, to bond him back in the ‘60s. Zemo didn’t think he would have lied to him about that. After the revelation that he was bonded to Brock, James never lied about anything to do with his past.

He would have mentioned it, Zemo thought. But maybe he simply doesn’t remember.

More determined than ever to find answers, he continued reading the book.

It has been well documented that Cyclosexuals form sympathetic bonds with their ‘mates’ that are intrapsychic and bioresponsive in nature (note: add citations to official report). 

These bonds were used in ancient Sparta, where soldiers would perform better and fight harder in battle in front of their mates. Nor would either mate dessert out of cowardice, and risk leaving the other behind. 

The Omega Cyclosexual is not suitable for assimilation into HYDRA because it is biologically inferior and its presence disrupts the Alpha Cyclosexual. There is also a greater risk of unauthorized bonding than there is with Alpha/Beta relations. Therefore, bonding the Asset to an Omega would be undesirable.

However, the nature of the Alpha Cyclosexual is better suited to obeying the HYDRA command structure (under the supervision of a Pack Leader) than its weaker counterpart. There are already many Alphas within HYDRA, so additional recruitment would not be necessary. 

The Omegaphobia wasn’t anything new to Zemo, nor was HYDRA’s obsession with Sparta. But the mention of Alphas made Zemo wonder whether Brock knew any of this. Did he know that there had been an experiment preceding the one that he had been a part of?

Such questions wouldn’t be answered until he talked to his mates about all of this, so Zemo carried on with his translation. 

The Asset is a Beta, and as such it would be possible to bond it to a biologically compatible Alpha. Blood samples indicate that the Asset has a Alphasterone Hormone (AH) level of 34 mIU/mL, which is a heightened level for an unbonded Beta. This would put it at 7 on the McMillen scale.

Fig. 1- The McMillen Rating Scale of Cyclosexual Designation

0: Omega Dysfunctional Type 

1 - 2: Omega Cyclosexual

3 - 7: Normal (Beta)

8 - 9: Alpha Cyclosexual

10: Alpha Dysfunctional Type

It must be acknowledged that this result is not ideal for the purposes of bonding it to an Alpha (a 3-5 rating would be preferable) but it is still within the expected range so there is no reason that this should not be possible.

Zemo knew that he was a 2, or at least he had been last time he’d had a blood test. The results varied slightly depending on where he was in his cycle. It also didn’t account for the fact that many doctors rounded the numbers up or down, to fit more people into the ‘normal’ range. He wasn’t surprised that, given his Alpha traits, James had naturally been a 7 before he bonded. 

Doctor Zola initially agreed to supervise this project, but has since resigned over ideological differences. He refused to acknowledge that there were any issues with his [the asset’s] system, and that all the problems were due to the technicians' failure to follow the correct instructions for its maintenance. He was also opposed to the idea of bonding the asset to an Alpha because it would, "introducing degenerate behaviours into [his] creation." Obviously I disagree with Doctor Zola, but it must be conceded that one of the side effects of successfully bonding the Asset may be that it begins to display some Omega-like behaviours. However, this shouldn’t be a problem with the increased control its handler will have over it. 

Method: Alpha test subjects will be allocated mating time according to a rota (ref. 541AR) which has been drafted according to the Alpha’s rut cycles. Alphas are more likely to bond when they are pre- rut or in full rut, so this timing will ensure the maximum opportunity for bonding.

During the course of the experiment, the Asset will be sedated and restrained to ensure that it is compliant, and therefore won’t be available for active duty.

Zemo set the book down and quickly drank the rest of his whiskey. 

A paragraph bitching about Arnim Zola, followed by a sentence briefly mentioning that my mate had been drugged, tied down and raped, he thought angrily. How absolutely typical of HYDRA!

Zemo glanced at the section underneath. 

Subjects: 16 Male Alphas (McMillen rating scale range 8-9), aged 20-35. Mean age: 24. Status: unbonded.

What followed was a list of sixteen names which Zemo didn’t recognise- all except for one. Alexander Pierce.

He would have been a young man then, Zemo realized. An Alpha in his prime, whose whole family had been members of HYDRA for generations. The thought of what he’d done to James made him feel sick and stirred in him a cold anger that he knew could prove to be extremely dangerous. Zemo forced himself to take a deep breath.

Brock had mentioned Pierce occasionally. His superior, but also as if he was a mentor figure of some kind. Zemo wondered if Brock had any idea what Pierce had done to his mate, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer either way. 

Zemo sighed. He had known this was going to be hard, but he hadn’t realized that this project had started years before his mates had even met. That Brock bonding with him was an end to a series of horrific experiments which seemed to have been erased from James’s memory, or buried because of how traumatic it was. 

He closed the notebook. That was quite enough revelations for today. 

*

Later that day, they all gathered in the living room on Zemo’s request. His mates were seated next to each other on the couch, while he sat in the armchair opposite them. Bucky was petting his kitten who was curled up next to him sleeping. Brock was sitting on Bucky’s other side, his arms crossed, tapping his foot restlessly. 

Zemo slowly, and as calmly as he was able, presented everything he’d learned thus far, and when he was done waited for their response. James appeared to take it well, his expression thoughtful as he stroked Alpine. Though, Zemo could feel through the bond that there was a heaviness settling in his chest. Weary, almost resigned.

However, Brock looked as if he was about to bolt from his seat. He was clenching his jaw hard enough Zemo could see the muscle jumping, his arms crossed tightly in front of him as if trying to defend himself from the inevitable.

“You sure, Baron?”, he grunted, breaking a silence that had stretched on for far too long.

Zemo nodded. “Yes, I am.”

“You said your Russian wasn’t as good as your English.”

“I may have missed some of the nuances,” Zemo admitted. “But I am in no doubt as to their meaning. This all happened to James, I am certain of it.”

Brock nodded as if he wasn’t fully hearing what Zemo was saying. “I gotta go,” he mumbled, getting up quickly and walking out of the room. They heard the door to the basement open and his feet descending the stairs, followed by a crash as some boxes were knocked over. 

Bucky petted Alpine in silence for a minute before Zemo asked, “How are you feeling, James?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky said slowly. “It’s not…I don’t remember any of that stuff you said, but it’s not exactly a surprise. I told you before that there are things I know that probably happened, but it’s like they happened to someone else. Not to me.

He paused for a moment. “The two guys the book mentions were my handlers: one of them…did stuff to me, the other one tried. I think that’s why I killed them. If anyone did anything to me that wasn’t part of the programming, it was easier to break it because I knew that those things weren’t permitted. But I didn’t know that HYDRA let the Alphas…all of them…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Honestly, I’m glad I don’t remember.”

Zemo hesitated. “Would you rather I hadn’t said anything?”

Bucky shook his head. “No. Like I said before, I’d rather know the facts in case I suddenly get those memories back. At least this way if I do, I can make sense of it. Not saying it’ll be easy, but at least I’ll know what they are.”

Zemo sat down on the couch next to him, threading his finger’s with James’s metal ones. 

“I would kill them all for doing that to you,” he said. 

“Then I guess it’s good they’re already dead.”

“Perhaps, yes,” Zemo agreed.

“I don’t need you seeking revenge for me,” Bucky said firmly.

“What do you need, then?”

“Just you. And Brock.” Bucky frowned. “He’s not okay. I can feel the bond spiking all over the place .”

“I know, I feel it too,” Zemo said with concern. “Should we go down and check on him?”

Bucky shook his head. “No, he’ll want to be alone right now. When he wants to talk he’ll come back up.”

*

Brock lay on the stained, gritty basement floor panting heavily. The concrete was cool and hard beneath him and it made him feel slightly more grounded. He winced as he felt a sting of pain in his knuckles and turned his head to see that they were bleeding.

He noticed the scattered boxes of books and miscellaneous junk they’d been trying to shift from the basement. It had been neatly stacked along the wall by the stairs, but now it was as if they’d never cleaned up. All that progress they’d made, completely wasted. Worse, because he’d broken a lot of the ornaments in the boxes he’d kicked and punched, and finally knocked over. 

Brock closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. He felt drained of energy, and yet his heart was still pounding in his chest like he’d just been fighting for his life. 

Pierce. Fucking Pierce! Fuck, fuck, fuck! 

Pierce had really done that to his mate! He should have protected Winter from him, he just had no idea…

But…was that true? Didn’t he always think there was something strange about how Pierce treated Winter? 

He should have protected him!

And if Pierce did that to Winter back then, did he ever…? Were there other times where he…? 

It’s not like Winter could say no,   Brock thought despairingly . At least not if Pierce had used the command words on him. And it’s not like I’d have felt it in the bond if that had happened to Winter because our bond is fucking broken and I can hardly feel anything through it. 

Brock wasn’t sure if he could deal with asking him, because what if Bucky said yes? That Pierce had done that to him, behind Brock’s back? He didn’t know if he could live with the guilt.

I gotta protect him now. Both of them.

Brock sat up, glad that he’d come to a resolution. He wished he hadn’t gone crazy like that and smashed up the place. His knuckles were bleeding freely now and his hands throbbed. He’d never have lost it like that in the past. Pierce wouldn’t have let him. He never let any of his Alphas get too out of control. 

Brock touched the back of his neck, where once there’d been the faint silver outline of a claiming bite that might as well have been a brand. It had long since burned away, and his skin had since healed over. But he could still remember being pressed face down onto the training mat while the others crowded around him to watch, chanting “Order through pain!” “Order through pain!” as Brock screamed and felt his Pack Leader’s teeth bury in his neck. Pierce had held him steady as he jerked and twisted and flailed, trying to turn over because he needed to show him, instinctively needing the dominant Alpha to know that he was submitting to him…

But it was no use; Pierce wouldn’t let him turn, wouldn’t let it be over until he decided that it was over.

Brock gasped as he felt a hot, swelling sensation at the base of his cock that forced him to lie back down, and he realized in horror that he was submission knotting. For a fucking dead man and a rapist! It was so humiliating that, despite the pain, he slammed his fist against the floor in frustration.

You’re not the dominant Alpha, a voice in his head whispered as his breath came sharp and shallow, like he was drowning. The dominant Alpha has first mating rights. Pierce could have just taken him from you, and you’d have let him.

“That’s not fucking true!” Brock shouted. “I’d kill him! I’d kill him if he ever touched Win!”

He did.

“I’d kill him!”

Would you?

“...fuck!”

Fuck, I’ve gotta protect them, keep them safe! Brock thought frantically, squeezing his knot hard and willing it to release. But I couldn’t keep Win safe, can’t keep them safe, fuckfuckfuck…

Now his cock was getting hard and he groaned as he wrapped his hand around it.

You’re a useless, pathetic Alpha. They don’t need you. You’re just a burden to them. You should leave, they’d be happy without you…

He couldn’t even cum his knot was swelling so much, and Rumlow moaned aloud in frustration. He just wanted it to be over, but he felt like he had no control over his own body. He needed someone to tell him that he was allowed to cum, that he was good, a good boy. That there was nothing wrong with him. That he wasn’t pathetic, broken and so fucking weak. 

But he had no one. No pack leader. Pierce was dead, and Brock wished he was too.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?”, Brock panted, laying on the floor cradling his knot. 

*

When Brock realized that it wasn't going down any time soon, he pulled himself to his feet and went upstairs to find the one thing that would help. It was in a bottle in the lockbox in his room. Zemo had accidentally spilled some of it, but not much. All he needed was a little of the scent, and he'd be able to release his knot and cum, no problem. It always worked without fail. But in the hallway, he ran into Bucky in the hallway and froze, like he'd been caught doing something wrong.

"Hey. Can we talk?", Bucky asked.

Brock avoided his gaze. "Later."

"Brock-"

"Just later, okay?", he snapped, trying to brush past him to get upstairs. 

But Bucky caught his arm. "Please. Don't shut me out."

"I'm not, I just need to do something."

"Can't it wait?"

"No."

"Your hands…"

"I've had worse and you know it," Brock said, tugging out of Bucky's grip. "They'll heal."

Now that he was free, Brock found himself unable to look away from his mate. He could tell that Bucky was upset, and he wanted to talk, but he just couldn't think while his knot was throbbing, making his cock ache.

"I know he was your pack leader.”

"Don't talk about things you don't understand," Brock snapped. 

Bucky gave him a strange look. “Did he…did he do something to you too?”

Brock stared at him in disbelief. 

"What?"

"You know what I mean."

"No, I don’t!" Brock growled. "Don’t know what the hell you're talkin’ about!"

"Bones-"

But Brock ignored him and went up the stairs to his room, slamming the door behind him. 

*

It was the next day, and neither Zemo nor James had seen Brock since he’d locked himself in his room. He hadn’t even come down for dinner, so Zemo had left a tray outside his room. It remained untouched when they left the house for a hike that morning. 

As he followed his mate through the woods, Zemo knew that there was something on James’s mind that he wanted to talk about. He hadn’t said much yesterday, and Zemo had gotten the impression that he was still processing everything he’d told him. Which was understandable, given what they’d just learnt. 

Sunlight dappled the path and leaves rustled overhead in the breeze. It was hot and sticky, and the sea breeze barely stirred the air here. Zemo was thankful that James seemed to realize he was tiring, and had stopped up ahead in a clearing. Zemo leaned against a tree panting heavily, and gratefully took the water bottle that James handed him. It was difficult keeping up with a super soldier.

“Listen, what I said yesterday about not remembering…” Bucky began.

Zemo kept silent, and waited for him to continue. He could tell that James was struggling with the words, and he wanted to reach out to his mate and comfort him, but he knew that he needed to give him space to finish what he had to say.

“I think I do…remember parts,” Bucky continued slowly. “But it got really messed up because he- because Winter didn’t really understand what was going on back then.”

Zemo nodded. He understood how difficult this must be for his mate, and he could feel through the bond how painful it felt for James to talk about. 

“So, there was this guy who I- who Winter called ‘HYDRA Steve’, because he looked like Steve, but wasn’t. So, one moment everything would be fine, and then I’d be confused, because he’d hurt me and then I’d realise, fuck that’s not Steve.

“That was Pierce?”, Zemo asked gently.

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, it must have been. They were both Alphas, and they looked so similar. And I couldn’t move or get away, which makes me think that must have been then , because the book said they sedated me.”

“Yes, as well as restraints.”

“Because they knew I’d try and fight,” Bucky said grimly. “They must have been glad they could use artificial hormones on me in round two. No need to chain me up if they can make me want it.”

“James…” Zemo said, reaching out and took him in his arms. Bucky exhaled a shaky breath, and wrapped his arms around him, and Zemo could feel the weight of his emotion as he held him.

“You know, I think that part of that might have been why it was hard to be with Steve later,” James said, when he pulled back. “I thought it was because of Rumlow, but I think it was more than that because it just felt…wrong. And I didn’t know why.”

He let out a frustrated sigh, running his hand through his hair. “I hate how there’s all this stuff I still don’t know, but at the same time I don’t know if I wanna know…I’m just tired of this. It’s exhausting having to think about it.”

“We can stop any time you want, James.”

“Yeah, but we need to do this for our relationship- so Brock and I can get better.”

Zemo nodded. He'd overheard the argument they'd had yesterday in the hall. It was so easy for him to reach out to James through their bond like he was doing now, that he often found himself instinctively trying to do the same with Brock. Only, almost every time he would come up against a wall of static. The only thing Zemo could tell was that it felt even more snarled and tangled than it usually was, which meant that Brock was still upset. He didn't blame Brock, but he knew how much James was hurting too and he wished that he could make things between them right again.

"Don't blame yourself," James said, bringing Zemo back to the present. 

"But you were both doing better," Zemo said. "If I hadn't brought all this to you yesterday-"

Bucky shook his head. "No, it's not your fault. Like I said, I prefer to know.”

“No more for a while, I think.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Bucky agreed. “I need to talk to Rumlow first. I don’t know what’s going on with him.”

Zemo sighed and closed his eyes. The sunlight and the heat were giving him a headache. 

“Pierce was his pack leader, James,” he said. “What a pack leader is to Alphas is quite hard to explain, but I’d imagine this feels to him like a betrayal.”

“He knew that Pierce was bad.”

“There’s trust, protection and safety in a pack,” Zemo said, opening his eyes to look at his mate. “Brock would have looked to Alexander Pierce for all of those things. He may have known that Pierce was a bad man, but he didn’t know that his pack leader would do that to his mate .”

James thought about this for a moment. “I don’t really understand all this pack stuff,” he said eventually. “Maybe it’s because I’m a Beta, not a cyclo. But I should probably talk to him about this. See how he’s feeling.”

“He loves you,” Zemo said gently. “I know he does. Even if he doesn’t say it.”

“I wish he would,” Bucky said.

“Maybe it’s taking a while for him to realize that he’s allowed to now.”

“Maybe.”

Zemo smiled. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Zemo leaned his head back against the tree, feeling dizzy. The light and heat seemed suddenly overwhelming, and his head was pounding. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?”, Bucky asked.

“Just…a little dizzy," Zemo mumbled, sitting down on the ground with his back against the tree. "I need a moment.”

Bucky nodded. "Okay." 

After about five minutes had passed, Bucky asked. “You think you can walk back to the house?"

"Yes, of course," Zemo said, but when he attempted to stand, he stumbled. "Perhaps, a hand if you would?"

"Don't worry, I got you," Bucky said, scooping him up into bridal carry.

"This is quite unnecessary," Zemo protested. Though he had to admit, it was a lot easier than walking.

*

When Zemo woke up, it was dark. At first he wasn't sure why he'd woken up, but then he realized that he was freezing. He was so cold that his body was shivering to try to warm up, so he grabbed a blanket from next to the bed and put it over himself. But even that didn't help, so he forced himself to get up to find something warmer. Sitting up, he felt like the room around him was spinning and, realizing that he was going to be sick, he stumbled to the bathroom and threw up.

He didn’t feel any better after, and when he tried to stand, he was seized by another wave of nausea and slumped back down, hugging the toilet bowl. He wasn't sure how long it lasted, but eventually the sickness ebbed and he was able to pull himself up and pour himself a cup of water from the sink.

He was freezing, so he made his way back to the bed, leaning on the wall for support. On his way, he grabbed a stack of blankets out of the closet and pulled them over himself and buried them underneath, trying to get warm. 

The movement seemed to have disturbed James, who mumbled sleepily, "Zemo? It's late…"

"Sorry."

James snuggled up to him, and Zemo was grateful for the warmth of his body. "Why are you so cold?", Bucky asked, suddenly wide awake. Zemo could feel his concern humming through the bond, but he felt too tired to reassure him. 

"I don't know. I feel nauseous and dizzy." 

"Do you still have a headache?"

"Mm. Yes, now that you mention it."

"Okay, I'm gonna turn the heat up and get you some more blankets."

Zemo closed his eyes, already feeling himself sinking back into sleep.

*

When he woke up again, he was too hot and Brock was lying next to him on the bed. Zemo didn’t know when he’d come in, but he was glad that his Alpha was here. 

"He's awake," Brock said. "How you doing? Do you need anything?"

Zemo snuggled up against him, inhaling his mate’s scent. His body ached, almost as bad as when he was in heat, and he was suddenly too hot, and he pulled the blankets off himself, 

"You're burning up," Brock murmured, putting a hand against Zemo's forehead. "I should get you a wet washcloth, or something."

"Just stay with me, please," Zemo murmured, nuzzling against his neck. Somehow just the scent of his mate was making him feel better, and when he licked at his skin it was a relief.

He realized that he was sweating when he wiped his brow. 

He felt James come into the room. "Hey, Zemo? Can you tell me how you're feeling?"

“It’s probably just the flu,” Zemo mumbled, wondering why Bucky couldn't tell from the bond, but then he realized how strange their bond felt right now. Sort of scattered, as though there was interference. Or perhaps he simply couldn’t focus on it.

"Neither of us are sick."

"You're a super soldier, James."

"Tell us how you’re feeling," Brock commanded.

"I have a fever, I’m dizzy, my body aches. And I vomited when I woke up earlier."

"I don't like this," Bucky said, sitting down on the bed next to him. "The bond doesn't feel right."

"You wanna have some water, Baron?", Brock asked.

Zemo nodded, taking the glass Brock was handing him. He took a small sip, unable to bring himself to take anymore than that. I'm so tired , he thought, closing his eyes.

“I just need to sleep. I’m sure I’ll feel better in the morning.”

“It is morning, Zemo.”

“Tomorrow morning, then,” he mumbled, nuzzling against his Alpha. Then he felt his stomach turn and quickly scrambled to get up before vomiting over the side of the bed. He heard Brock's voice saying, "It's okay, it’s okay…" as if from a long way away, and then he passed out. 

*

When Zemo next woke up he was confused and disoriented. The smells around him were all wrong and he didn't like the feeling of the scratchy blanket against his skin. The only consolation was that he could feel his mates nearby.

"You're awake!" Brock exclaimed, the moment he opened his eyes. “How’re you feeling?”

Zemo realized that he was in an unfamiliar bed, and his mates were in chairs on either side of him. James to his left, Brock to his right. 

Zemo reached out and then realized that there was an IV drip in his right arm. He looked at it in confusion for a moment before asking, "Why am I in the hospital?"

"You were sweating like crazy and not keeping any liquid down," Bucky replied. "And then you passed out and we couldn't wake you up. So, I called an ambulance and we brought you here."

Zemo closed his eyes wearily against the bright, fluorescent lights. "Do they know what's wrong with me?"

"No, they're useless," Brock growled.

The Alpha hadn't left his side for a moment all day, so it had fallen to Bucky to bring them both food. Not that Brock had so much as touched his. Whenever the nurses came by to check on Zemo, Brock had glared at them and asked what they were doing. 

Bucky was a little worried that given their history, it would cause problems for Brock to be here. It was him who was listed as Zemo's mate on their legal records, not Brock.

We should have thought of this , Bucky thought to himself. Something like this was always going to happen. We should have had a plan.

He'd tried explaining the situation to Brock, but the Alpha seemed not to listen, and had instead just been focusing on their sleeping mate. It wasn't that Bucky wasn't worried about him, but was the fact that they were all bonded going to be a problem for Zemo's parole? Or Brock's, for that matter? The Alpha was technically supposed to be in witness protection, but he seemed to have just ignored that fact since the blip. 

It was all too complicated, and Bucky felt like he didn't have anyone to talk to. Until he remembered Sam.

"I'm gonna go make a call," Bucky said. Now that Zemo was awake, he could think a bit more clearly.

Rumlow nodded, not taking his eyes from Zemo for a second.

Once he was out in the hallway, Bucky took out his phone and dialled his friend’s number. Luckily, he picked up after only a few rings.

"Hey, Sam,"

"Hey, Buck, how you been?"

"Zemo's in the hospital," he said, cutting to the chase.

"What? Why?"

"He's sick. They don't know what's wrong with him."

"Is it serious?"

"They don't know," Bucky said. Saying it aloud made him realize just how afraid he really was. "We thought it was flu, but then it got bad. He's probably gonna have to stay in for a few days, at least."

"Are you okay?"

"No, I'm worried about him. And Brock won't leave his side for a second. He's growling at anyone who comes near him. I'm worried about what's going to happen when someone realizes we’re bonded."

"Tell them the truth, say that you're all bonded but only you're registered as his mate."

"Yeah, but they're gonna know we lied, Sam. I said I wasn't bonded to anyone else during the bond testing, so did Zemo." 

"You could have bonded since then."

"What would be the chances of me bonding to the one guy who used to be my handler?"

"I see your point. Maybe you should get a lawyer. That's what you should have done on day one."

“Yeah, you’re right,” Bucky said. “I guess we’ll just have to see what happens. Right now I just wanna make sure he’s okay."

*

When Bucky returned, Zemo was lying on his side, nuzzling against Brock's wrist. He seemed to be enjoying scenting him, and seemed a lot more relaxed than when he'd first woken up. Brock was murmuring soothing words to him, and Bucky was relieved to feel that the bond felt a little more normal.

He turned, instantly alert when a man wearing a white coat with a name tag that read ‘Dr. Mayfield’ approached them. Bucky wanted to keep him away from his mate, but he realized that probably wasn’t a smart move, given the circumstances.

"James Barnes?", the doctor asked Brock. 

Brock shook his head. "That's him," he said, indicating Bucky.

The doctor looked between them in confusion. 

"We're bonded," Bucky admitted. "We're his mates."

“What’s wrong with him?”, Brock asked quickly, indicating Zemo, who was still scenting his wrist. 

The doctor consulted his notes. “His designation is Omega?”

“Yes.”

“It appears that he’s suffering from Febris Infirmum- heat sickness.”

“What’s that?” Bucky asked. “Is it serious?”

“It can be, yes,” Mayfield said. “It’s caused by hormone imbalance. Overproduction of Omega hormones. Blockers or suppressants are needed to help level them out.”

“But he was on suppressants for years,” Bucky said. “He’s only just come off them.”

“That probably wasn’t advisable,” the doctor replied. “It’s likely his body adjusted to them, and now he’s having an adverse reaction.”

“That was months ago,” Zemo said, pulling himself upright with some effort. “And please stop talking about me as if I’m not here. I’m perfectly cognizant of my surroundings, thank you.”

“As I was saying,” the doctor said, readjusting his glasses. “It’s likely a reaction caused by withdrawal. It’s quite common.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Zemo said dismissively. “As I said, it’s been over three months. I went through a withdrawal almost immediately, and this is not that.”

“I’ve seen many cases of this before,” the doctor continued, as if Zemo hadn’t said anything at all. “Omegas going off suppressants, putting their health at risk. It’s very dangerous.”

“So, you think he should go back on suppressants?”, Bucky asked. 

“Not immediately, of course. But when he’s well enough, that would be for the best.”

Zemo shook his head. “No.”

Mayfield raised his eyebrows at him. “Excuse me?”

“It’s unnecessary now that I’m bonded. I refuse to do that again.”

“Hm. Well, it’s your decision, of course, but I really think you should consider it. In the meantime, there’s not a lot we can do.” He turned to Bucky and said, “We can keep him sedated, and on an IV drip to prevent dehydration. But we can’t give him artificial hormones if he’s bonded, his body will reject them, so his Alpha needs to stay with him until his condition improves."

“For how long?”

“It’s unclear at this stage. A few days usually, but it could be up to a week.” He glanced between Brock and Bucky. “So, which one of you is the Alpha?”

“I am,” Brock said firmly.

The doctor looked down at his paperwork. “You’re not registered, Mr…?”

“Smith.”

“Well, Mr. Smith. He needs his mate. The one he’s bonded to.”

“Keep trying to tell you that’s both of us!”

"Brock," Zemo said. They all turned their attention to him. "I will be fine with James. His scent will work now, so you don't need to worry about me."

"Are you sure?", Brock asked with concern. "I don't want you to be in pain or nothin'."

"I won't be, I promise."

"If he's with his bonded mate, there should be nothing to worry about," Mayfield said. 

Brock stood up, glaring at the doctor. “You sayin' I’m lying about being his Alpha?”

“Okay, outside now”, Bucky said firmly, taking Brock by the arm and pulling him away from Mayfield.

“You need to calm down,” Bucky said when they were out in the corridor. “It’s okay.”

“Like hell it is!”, the Alpha snapped. "The Baron's in the hospital and they're not gonna let me stay with him!"

“Just take a breath, alright?”

“This is bullshit, and you know it!”

Bucky sighed. “I know, believe me I do. This is what it was like when we went through bond testing.”

“But you don’t know what it feels like! Having your mate taken away and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Like hell I don’t, Bucky thought. But instead he said, “No one’s taking him away.  Look, I can’t deal with this right now. I need to go back in there and talk to the doctor.”

“So what am I supposed to do, just wait out here?”, Brock said, gesturing around him.

Bucky shrugged. “Just go have a cigarette or something.”

Brock crossed his arms in front of him. “They said only one of us can stay with him. So that’s you, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s gotta be,” Bucky said wearily. “I'm sorry, Bones. It has to be me because of the parole terms.”

"Don’t worry, I get it.”

“Do you?”

“Uh-huh. See you later, I guess,” Brock said, turning to go.

“Bones, hey, don’t just leave-”

“Go back in there,” Brock said sharply, turning back to face him.

“What?”

“Go back in there right now. He needs someone with him.”

Bucky frowned. “Zemo’s fine. He’s sleeping again.”

“And I suppose you can tell that through your bond?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Yeah, I see how it is.”

“Oh come on, don’t be like that!”

But Brock just shook his head and walked off.

*

Chapter Text

*

The sun was setting by the time Brock got back to their house. The moment he opened the door Alpine was there meowing at him. She was probably wondering where they’d been all day. 

"So it's just you an' me huh?", Brock said to the tiny white kitten. She blinked up at him and then wandered off in the direction of the kitchen, meowing for food. 

Brock sighed and followed after her. He got a small can of chicken-flavoured kitten food from the cupboard and tipped it into a bowl for her. "First-best daddy is looking after second-best daddy in the hospital, so I guess you're stuck with me."

The kitten ignored him in favour of scarfing down her dinner. 

Brock’s stomach felt like it was tied in knots from worrying about his mate, but he hadn’t eaten all day and he realized that he should probably make something for himself too. He microwaved some leftover tuna pasta, zoning out as he stared at the glowing numbers counting down until they reached zero.

Brock was too tired to be angry now. He hadn’t slept at all last night because they’d been taking care of Zemo, and then they’d rushed him to the hospital. He thought about his mate lying in a strange bed, surrounded by doctors, so helpless and unprotected. It wasn’t fair that he couldn’t be with Zemo when Zemo needed him and if something happened to his mate because he wasn’t there…

Brock went to the fridge and grabbed a cold six pack of beer and set them on the counter. Grabbing one, he popped open the cap and drank it down, without stopping for breath. It was better than nothing, but not enough to get him buzzed, so he opened another. 

He knew that Bucky was there to guard Zemo, and that he was ten times stronger than Brock was, but it wasn’t the same. Brock was Zemo’s Alpha; he needed to be there! 

Zemo was definitely going to miss him, he needed his hormones to feel better. That’s what the doctor had said, though he’d been basically useless and hadn’t listened to a word they’d said. But…Zemo had said he didn’t need him, because he had Bucky.

Brock felt his heart sink. He’d always suspected it, but to actually hear that from his Omega…

Brock had just slumped down on the couch to eat his leftovers and drink himself better when his phone vibrated in his pocket. 

 

iphone-Am1J - Fake Text Message

 

That leaves seventeen and a half hours until I can see my Omega again, Brock thought miserably, starting on his third beer. There was no way he could sleep until he’d finish the rest of the six pack, at least. He was too alert for that, his body still tense and trying to guard his mate, even though he wasn’t here. 

It had sometimes been like that back in his HYDRA days, especially after a mission with Winter. After they'd put him back in cryo, Brock would drink for days until Jack eventually hauled his ass out of whatever sleazy bar he’d wound up in and brought him back home.

This felt just like that, even if Brock knew it wasn’t the same. He would get to see his mate again, soon, he just had to hold out until tomorrow.

Brock turned the tv on to distract himself and began watching a re-run of House. He switched it when all the medical jargon and white coats started making him think about the Baron being in hospital, and he changed it to something about monster trucks. 

He wasn’t feeling much better by the time he finished the last beer. That’s when he noticed Zemo’s decanter of whiskey sitting on the coffee table.

*

Brock woke up to Alpine kneading his chest and meowing in his face. Who knew that kittens could be so loud? He opened his eyes slowly with a groan, the daylight stabbing his eyes. 

“You want food, right?”, he mumbled, getting up and stumbling into the kitchen. He fed her quickly and poured himself a glass of water and drank it down in one go. That was better, except his head was killing him. 

He remembered Bucky had asked him to pack a bag with some of their things - clothes, books, one of Zemo's blankets so that he could have a familiar scent. He should've done that last night, but he could do that before he left for the hospital today.

As he grabbed a banana and began peeling it, his phone vibrated on the counter. He unlocked it to see that he had a bunch of unread messages and five missed calls from Bucky. All of them were asking where the hell Brock was.

That's when he realized that it was 16.30. He'd slept all day, and visiting hours were almost over. 

"Shit!"

Rumlow grabbed the car keys and rushed out the door, and was pulling out of the driveway before he'd even caught his breath. Suddenly he found himself wondering if he was being tailed, if he'd managed to get away in time - old habits. 

This isn't a getaway vehicle , he reminded himself, it was his mate's car and he was going to see his Omega who was in the hospital. It  was almost an hour away, but he could make it if he drove fast. Which he did, at least as fast as he could without risking getting arrested. He was good at driving like this, but this was definitely faster than he knew was smart, hungover as he was and wired from adrenaline. 

His phone vibrated in his pocket, but he kept his eyes on the road and let it go to voicemail. He knew that it was going to be Bucky again, because who else would it be? 

"You're fucking this up," Brock muttered to himself angrily, pressing the accelerator to the floor. "Don't fuck this up, you need to be there. You need to show them that you care."

When he arrived at the hospital, he pulled into the parking lot faster than was probably wise and parked in the first empty space he could find. There definitely wasn't a lack of parking, but Brock tried not to think too much about that right now and hurried inside. 

The reception area was brightly lit with fluorescent lights, and there were people sitting in the blue plastic chairs lining the walls. 

There was a security guard at the door who looked Brock up and down suspiciously, but let him pass. Brock went straight to the desk where a tired looking middle aged woman was seated.

"Hi, I'm here to see someone."

"Visiting hours are over," she said in an unconcerned tone of voice.

Brock glanced anxiously at the clock. Five minutes past five.

"You'll have to come back tomorrow.'

"Please, I've gotta see him, he's my mate."

She pursed her lips. "It's hospital policy."

"Just a few minutes."

"There's nothing I can do."

Brock felt the presence of the security guard behind him. What the hell did they think he was gonna do?

Brock turned around. "You got a problem?"

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"Why? What'd I do, huh?", Brock growled, taking a step towards him.

"You're drunk and you're harassing staff."

"No one's harassing anyone! I just want to see my mates!"

He made the mistake of turning, and trying to edge past the man, and that's when he grabbed his arm. 

*

Bucky was sitting next to Zemo's bed trying to call their mate.

"He's not picking up," he said to Zemo, who was sitting propped up in bed against the pillows. He was a lot better than the day before, but he was starting to get a migraine and even though they'd dimmed the lights, he preferred to keep his eyes closed. 

"Leave it, James," Zemo murmured. "He's not coming."

"He said he'd be here. What's gotten into him?"

Zemo sighed. "I don't know. I just want to sleep."

"Okay. Sorry." 

Bucky felt a tightening sensation in the bond, and realised that their Alpha was close. It felt like he was really close, maybe just outside? He went over to the window and saw that their car was in the parking lot. 

"I'll be back in a minute," he said. 

"Mm. Turn the lights off."

"Okay."

Bucky walked out of the room and down the corridor. He felt something tangled and red, and he rushed into reception to see Brock grappling with the security guard. 

"Oh fuck," he groaned, before stepping in to separate them. 

He grabbed Brock and pinned his arms behind his back. "I'm with him," he said to the guard, who was panting and red in the face. "I got this."

Without waiting for a response, he forced Brock out the door with him. Bucky pinned his back against the wall where the Alpha snarled and twisted in his grip and Bucky tightened his hold on him. "Calm down," he said firmly. "And I'll let you go.'

"What the fuck?", Rumlow growled "Are you on their side?"

"There's no sides, Bones! You can't just go making a scene like that!"

"Let me go!"

"Are you gonna calm down and stop trying to fight people?"

Rumlow didn't say anything, but strained against him. They were close enough that Bucky felt his breath against his lips, his mate's breathing ragged. He could smell and taste the sour tang of alcohol on his breath. Bucky was reminded of the first time he'd entered Rumlow's apartment. How he'd pinned the Alpha against the wall just like this, their hips pressed together so that he could feel every strained movement. Rumlow was weakening now, calming down as he realized that he couldn't break free.

And then Brock's body stiffened, and he let out a frustrated whine and went completely still.

"Please," he whispered, hanging his head. "Let me see him."

Buck felt his temper peak. They'd been waiting all day for him, and he'd only cared to show up now that visiting hours were over.

"Where the hell were you?", he demanded. "I was calling you, texting you. Then you just decide to show up at the last minute?"

"Sorry," Brock mumbled. "Overslept."

"Because you stayed up all night drinking, ain't that right?"

Brock said nothing. 

Still mad, Bucky said. "They're not gonna let you in now."

Brock nodded resignedly.  "Yeah, I figured."

"Zemo was asking for you."

No reply. 

Bucky turned to look over his shoulder. "You should probably go before they call the cops."

Rumlow nodded, and said in an uncharacteristically meek tone. "Okay."

Bucky frowned. "That's it?"

Rumlow said nothing, then turned and slinked back to the car. As he started the engine, Bucky approached and motioned for Brock to roll the window down.

“Are you safe to drive?”

“Got here, didn’t I?” Brock hunched over awkwardly, refusing to look at his mate.

“There’s a coffee bar two blocks over. Go and-”

“I’m fine!” Rumlow jammed the car into reverse, and pulled away, leaving Bucky standing alone, watching as he drove off. 

What the hell had just happened?

*

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,” Brock whispered under his breath, then yelled “FUCK!”, slamming his hands against the wheel. In his pants, his knot bulged stubbornly, hard and tight and throbbing.

Had Bucky noticed? The thought made Rumlow feel nauseous. What the hell was wrong with him? His body shouldn’t be reacting like this - knotting was a sign of submission to other Alphas, not something you did for fucking Betas! 

But I knotted for him before, he remembered. I knotted for Winter, in Kosovo-

“FUCK YOU!” Brock yelled as another driver honked their horn at him. He was weaving through traffic, desperate to get home as fast as possible, and find the only thing that could relieve him from this hell.

As he tore into their little neighbourhood, he was fixated on getting inside and getting to his lockbox. He was still speeding, and he swore loudly as he clipped the high curb, making the whole car bounce and scraping it against the road barrier.

Bucky was right, of course he was right, I’m in no state to drive-

But he carried on, roaring up their driveway, throwing the car into park and jumping out. His knot still ached, firm and sore and desperate, and Brock needed it to stop. He had to give it what it wanted, but it couldn’t be for Bucky!

In the basement now, Rumlow dragged out the lockbox and frantically spun the lock through the right combination. Jack’s birthday, I’ll never forget that.

He thrust aside the badges and medals, and for a second was terrified he’d lost it - but no, here it was. Momentarily calm, Brock held the little bottle of cologne up to the light. It was still about a quarter full of deep golden liquid.

It had taken him months to find it. Scruffy, burns still healing, half-drunk, he wasn’t allowed into most high-class perfume stores. But by chance one night, he’d smelled it, that distinctive, rich, musky, cloying scent, in a bar. He could never forget that aroma, it was seared so deeply into him, deeper than his scars. He’d let the man take him home, fucked him, knotted him tight. Then when he slept, Rumlow had raided his medicine cabinet, found the bottle and taken it.

DIOS. The bottle was shaped like a tower, and Brock ran his hands over it, letting the familiar shape of the glass soothe him. His knot throbbed urgently, and he took it in his palm through his pants and gave it a firm squeeze to take the edge off. He pulled the cap from the bottle, sprayed it a couple of times on his pillow, and lay down, burying his face into the scent.

Instantly, he was back there. When things were simple. When all he had to do was what he was told. When someone else was in control.

Pierce.

Brock was standing in the drill hall lined up with the others. The ‘Alpha Squad’, as they called themselves. The eight active HYDRA operatives, and Pierce himself. It was an old boy’s club, but one you didn’t need good breeding to be part of - you just needed the right blood. Alpha blood.

They’d been instructed to wear their collars. Black, tight collars, with plastic blocks that pressed into the glands on their necks. It felt so much easier to relax, to give himself over, when he was wearing it.

“We all need reminding, now and then, just who is in charge,” Pierce said, as he walked along the line. “Rumlow,” he said, pausing in front of Brock. “You might be bonded, but who do you belong to?”

“You, sir,” Brock said, standing up a little straighter and feeling that familiar stirring in his tac pants; the warmth of blood pooling as his knot began to inflate.

“That’s right. And who does your mate belong to?”

“A-also you, sir.”

“Very good,” Pierce said, reaching up one hand and tugging a little on Rumlow’s collar.

 Brock got a long whiff of that scent, Alpha pheromones mixed with that expensive, musky cologne… And that tug on his collar, crushing his glands a little more… he couldn’t help but softly gasp.

“Hmm. Seems I’ve been neglecting you somewhat of late.” Brock shivered as his pack leader ran a calloused thumb over the fading bite mark on Brock’s neck. “Perhaps you could do with a little reminder.”

Brock’s knot was full now, reaching out to his pack leader, like it was desperate for approval. Pierce stepped forwards, and let the back of his hand slide against Brock's stomach as he eased it under his belt and into his pants. He spread his index and middle fingers apart, and hooked them just under that eager knot, and pulled upwards a little, gently but firmly. Then, he wrapped his thumb and other two fingers tightly around the bulge, squeezing and releasing in time with his pup’s natural throbbing. 

That did it. The rest of Brock’s dick sprang into action, standing to attention, hard and prone. Rumlow knew he’d never be able to come while his knot was so tight, a biological cock-ring ensuring he’d stay compliant and submissive to his leader.

“Good boy,” Pierce said. “I know I can always rely on you to put on a good show.” He pulled his hand away, and turned to the other Alphas, who were watching attentively. “Brock here is demonstrating ideal Alpha submission. He’s knotting for me. Do you understand the purpose of a submission knot? Mating rights. You’re showing your leader you’re no threat, that he has the right to do whatever he wants with you - or your mate - and you wont stop him.”

Brock whined softly, his cheeks burning.

“But even the most apparently obedient pup needs some discipline now and then.” Pierce nodded, and the two Alphas either side of Brock grabbed him suddenly, forcing his arms up behind his back and shoving him to his knees.

“Hey!” Brock started, but his knot flared and he fell silent. If this is what his pack leader wanted, he had to give it. He HAD to.

Pierce walked behind him, and Brock heard his knees click as he crouched. “In your most recent field operation, what level of physical contact were you cleared for with my Asset?”

“F-four, sir.”

“Four. That’s right. Remind me what that means.

“Physical…” He groaned as one of the other alphas forced his arm further up his back. “Physical affection, sexual contact using… using hands-”

“Hmm. And where did it say you could fuck my Asset, Rumlow?”

“It didn’t-”

“But for some reason, that didn’t stop you, did it?” Pierce leaned in so close that Brock could feel his breath on the back of his neck, and that smell, that familiar scent, filled his nose. His dick leaked pathetically, still hard, still knotted so tight Rumlow could barely think of anything else. He choked back a moan as his pack leader unclipped his collar and tossed it aside.

“So you knew you were disobeying me,” Pierce was almost whispering now, and instinctively Brock bared his neck, pushing those little glands under the skin close to his Pack Leader’s mouth.

Pierce’s tongue darted out for a second and touched him, then he leaned in and bit down. Helplessly Brock whined, but he didn’t fight - he let Pierce claim him, chomping down on his neck gland like he could rip it out if he wanted. The two other alphas released their grip and Brock fell forwards, and Piece leaned over him, pinning his arms down now, teeth still lodged in Rumlow’s neck.

And then everything became calm. Brock hadn’t realized he was struggling, but he felt himself fall limp. There was nothing now, nothing except his knot pounding in his pants, the bite, the weight of his pack leader pinning him down, grounding him, keeping him safe. He took deep breaths, letting the calmness rush over him. He wasn’t even aware of the other alphas in the room, gathered around now, watching.

Pierce eventually released his bite and began grooming Brock’s bleeding neck, his soft tongue lapping at his neck glands with a gentleness, an affection almost. As he did this he reached around Brock’s body, and once again slid his hands into his pants, and took hold of his knot in that wonderful, perfect grip, and began to massage it.

The rush of hormones to Brock’s brain never failed. His pack leader was rewarding him for his submission. It felt incredible, it felt wrong, it felt perfect. Brock tried to stay present, not lose himself in this moment - even though the only part of himself he could feel with right now was his cock. He focused on the way his pulse bumped against Pierce's wedding ring as those fingers stroked him to the edge of climax.

“Release for me,” Pierce whispered. “Good boy. Let go for me now.

Brock buried his face into the pillow and howled as he came, his knot relaxing enough to allow his orgasm to spill through. He bucked his hips, whining and gasping, and collapsed into his makeshift bed with a defeated growl.

“I’m the Alpha now,” he said out loud, rolling onto his back. “ Me. They’re meant to submit to ME!”

He thought again about how Bucky had pinned him, told him off, dominated him. It wasn’t fair. That was the role of an alpha. How dare Bucky think he could take it from him?

It happened before, in Kosovo-

Alpine stuck her head around the basement door, and mewed softly. 

“You’re hungry again?” Brock asked with a huff. “I fed you today already! Fine. I’m coming.”

  *

iphone-Wm1J - Fake Text Message

Please don’t show up drunk again.

Brock didn’t know how to reply to that, so he didn’t. He hadn’t meant to, of course not, and he felt a hot stab of shame in his gut at the thought of his pack lea- at Bucky , seeing him like that.

He looked around at the unwashed dishes that had been left out because he hadn’t cleaned up since his mates had been staying in the hospital. At the counters that needed a clean, the dishwasher that needed unloading, the trash that needed taking out. 

His hand curled tighter around the mug of coffee he was forcing himself to drink. He had shit to do if the Baron was (hopefully) coming home tomorrow. He was their Alpha, he needed to show that he was responsible. His Omega was gonna come home, and he wanted everything to be perfect for him. Everything was gonna be fine. Yeah.

“Just keep telling yourself that, Rumlow,” he mumbled to himself as he began putting the clean dishes away

Once he was done, he went upstairs to his mate’s bedroom and began to change the sheets on the bed. The sweet scent of sickness clung to the cotton, and he quickly tossed those into the laundry hamper and pulled out some fresh ones from the linen cupboard in the hallway. His phone vibrated in his pocket just as he’d finished making the bed, and pulled it out and flopped down on the mattress. Expecting a text from Bucky, he was surprised to see that he was calling him, and Brock felt his stomach dip.

Come on, you’re their Alpha! Don’t be so fucking nervous! 

He tapped ‘accept’. “Hello?”

“Brock?”

Rumlow relaxed at the sound of his Omega’s voice. “Hey Baron, you doin’ okay?”

“I’m much better now, yes. I’ve been told that I should be able to come home tomorrow.”

“Yeah, Bucky said,” Brock replied, nervously twisting the fringe of one of Zemo’s blanket’s between his fingers. “Listen, I’m sorry I couldn’t make it today. I fucked up.”

“It’s fine. I had a migraine anyway, so I wouldn’t have been able to talk very much.”

“You sure you’re okay to come home?”, Brock asked.

“Yes, apparently it’s a common side-effect of dehydration. Nothing to worry about.”

“Still should have been there with you.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll see each other tomorrow.”

Brock sighed. “Yeah, I guess.”

“I miss you.”

Brock felt his hand pounding in his chest. An eternity seemed to pass before he said, “...miss you too.”

“What are you doing right now?”

“Lyin’ on your bed. I was cleaning up some. Want things to be nice for you when you come home.”

“You didn’t have to do that, but I appreciate it.”

Brock shook his head. “Don’t want you to worry about nothin’, Baron. I’m gonna look after you when you’re back home.”

“Well, it will be nice for someone else to cook for once.”

“Can’t promise it’ll be that gourmet shit you like, but I’m sure I can fix somethin’. I used to take care of Winter all the time when he was…anyway. Is Bucky there?”

“No, he’s gone to find a vending machine. He can’t stand the processed texture of the meals here.”

Brock sat bolt upright. “He left you alone?!”

He heard Zemo sigh. “I’m perfectly fine, Brock.”

“Really? Are you sure? If you need Alpha hormones or anything, I can always drive back-”

“No,” Zemo said quickly. “Just stay there. I really am okay, you don’t need to come and rescue me.”

“But-”

“Just go to sleep, moj tigric.”

“Okay, fine.”

“I will see you in the morning. I love you.”

“...” 

You’re not saying anything! Brock thought desperately as the silence dragged on. You need to say something!

“...okayseeyoutomorrowbye!”, he blurted, before quickly hanging up the phone. Then he collapsed back on the bed with a groan. 

What are you, a fucking teenager?, he thought. He’s your mate for Christ's sake! Why can’t you just say it back?

But he’d never been good at that stuff. Emotions, saying how you felt; especially not to people you cared about. It wasn’t safe, back in HYDRA. It made you vulnerable, weak. He’d never even said those words to Winter. Never. 

Winter looking up at him with his big blue eyes full of pure adoration. “I love you, Sir.” 

Forget about him, forget about all of that, Brock thought, feeling a lump in his throat. He’s gone. 

Then, I wish I’d told him.

Brock buried his face in the blanket, inhaling his Omega’s familiar scent.

I’m gonna do better from now on, he thought as his eyes began to close. Be a good Alpha, a good pack leader. Nothin’ like Pierce…

*

Brock made sure to get there on time the next day, exactly as Bucky had told him. He wanted to show that he could be reliable; that they could trust him. And he really wanted to see his Omega. He stayed inside the car to wait in case the security spotted him and decided to cause trouble. It wasn’t long before his mates appeared at the entrance, and Brock’s eyes instantly went to Zemo. His mate still looked pale and unwell, but he walked over to the car without any trouble. Brock got out and caught him in a hug. He’d been so worried, but now he was safe in arms. When Zemo nuzzled against his neck, Brock let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

Zemo looked up at him with a smile. “Moj Tigrić.”

Brock managed to smile back at him. “Hey Baron. You feelin’ better?”

Zemo nodded. “Yes, but I’d like to go home now. I still need to rest.”

“They said he needs to stay in bed for a couple of days,” Bucky said.

Brock looked down at the ground, avoiding his gaze. “Uh huh.”

He still couldn’t bring himself to meet his eyes after yesterday, and there was an awkward silence before Zemo broke the tension by opening the back door of the car and sliding into the seat.

“Guess we should go,” Brock mumbled, turning to open the door.

“Wait.”

Brock froze with his hand on the door. “What?”

“I’ll drive.”

“...fine.”

Maybe he noticed the scrape I put on it yesterday… 

He couldn’t believe he’d given in to the Beta again, but he tried to push the thought away as he climbed into the back next to Zemo. At least back here I can guard him and get my scent on him…

He wrapped an arm around him and buried his face in Zemo’s neck, inhaling his sweet Omega scent that was still tinged with the smell of hospital. 

Zemo chuckled weakly as Brock began enthusiastically grooming him. “You missed me?”

“Uh huh,” Brock said. “Not gonna let anyone take you away again.”

And he really meant it. He was the Alpha, the pack leader, so he had to start acting like it. He wasn’t going to let anyone get between and separate them ever again. 

Bucky angled the mirror and glanced back at them. “You okay back there?”

“Yes, James,” Zemo murmured. “I’m just going to take a little nap.”

*

When they arrived back home, Bucky parked the car and got out. When he opened the door to the backseat, Brock glared at him and bared his teeth in a little growl. Bucky took a step back in surprise. He noticed that Zemo was asleep in the back, his head lolling on the Alpha’s shoulder.

“We should probably get him inside,” Bucky said.

Brock gave a curt nod. “I’ll do it.” 

He gently jostled Zemo awake, and the Baron climbed sleepily out of the car after him. 

Bucky’s heart sank as he watched the Alpha steer their mate towards the house. Brock was clearly still upset and angry with him after the fight they’d had yesterday. Which made sense; they hadn’t really had time to talk about everything and make up. He’d just been so busy looking after Zemo, that he hadn’t really had the time to make sure that Brock was okay too. And, if he was being honest with himself, he was still embarrassed and mad that Brock had missed visiting hours, driven drunk to the hospital, and then started a fight when they wouldn’t let him up to see Zemo. 

Entering the house, he was greeted by Alpine meowing at him for attention and scooped her up to give her some attention. He brought her up the stairs to their bedroom, where Brock and Zemo had disappeared to. 

Zemo was already lying in bed, apparently exhausted from the journey, while Brock fussed around him.

“The doctors say he need anything?”, the Alpha asked, arranging the pillows.

Bucky set Alpine down on the bed and she went over to Zemo and curled up next to him. “Plenty of fluids and-”

“On it!”, Brock said, jumping up and pushing past him to the en suite bathroom. He was back a moment later with a glass of water which he set down on the nightstand. “Anything else?”

“Um, yeah. He needs Alpha hormones, so if you can just lie close to him and let him cuddle you…”

“Well, I’m an Alpha so that’s no problem,” Brock said, lying down next to their mate. Zemo stirred in his sleep and snuggled up against him. “Anything else?”

“Yeah, anti-nausea medication if he’s still feeling sick when he wakes up, but that’s about it.”

Brock nodded. “Okay, well I guess you can go then.”

Bucky frowned at him. “What?”

“I got this.”

“This is my bedroom too.”

Brock glared at him, drawing an arm protectively around Zemo. “I said: I got this. I’m gonna take care of him now.”

Bucky sighed. “Fine. Guess I’ll sleep in your room tonight.”

“Fine by me.”

This is okay. I knew he was still mad at me, Bucky thought as he turned to leave. He didn’t have the energy for another fight- argument, whatever. They’d sort things out when Zemo was better. It would be fine. 

Right? 

Right. 

He just had to keep telling himself that until he believed it. 

*

Chapter Text

*

Zemo woke up to the sound of knocking at the bedroom door. He'd been sleeping fitfully, body oscillating between sweating and shivering. It wasn't as bad as it had been, but it was still uncomfortable and hard to regulate his body temperature. Especially without his mates in the same room as him. He'd thought they would both stay with him, but neither of them were here.

The knocking came again, the sound making his head throb, and he groaned and burrowed deeper into the bed. If he just kept lying in the dark, maybe everything would stop spinning. Wishful thinking, perhaps.

He heard the handle turn and sensed his Alpha approach. "Hey Baron, it's lunchtime so I made you some soup."

Zemo sighed reluctantly and pulled himself upright. "Can you put it on the nightstand please?"

"Sure," Brock said, putting it down and watching him expectantly. "My Nonna always used to make this for us whenever any of us were sick, and then my Pops always made it too."

It looked like minestrone, and though Zemo would usually find the smell delicious, right now the idea of eating anything that wasn't plain turned his stomach. 

Zemo realized that Brock was waiting for him to eat it. "It looks good," he said. "But I need to take medication first."

Brock nodded quickly. "Sure, no problem. Here." He handed the packet to Zemo. 

I'd much rather go back to sleep, Zemo thought. But he supposed he should probably try and eat something, at least.

Popping two of the small white capsules from the packet, he swallowed them quickly with a gulp of water so as not to taste the bitterness of their coating. 

"It will take a while for them to take effect," Zemo said, when Brock continued to watch him. "Why don't you come in here with me?"

His Alpha hummed appreciatively and climbed into the bed, cuddling up close to him. 

Zemo took a deep breath, taking in his mate's familiar scent and feeling his body relax. 

"This what you need, Baron?", Brock asked

"Mmm, yes," Zemo murmured in agreement, nuzzling gently against the scent glands on his neck. "Where's James?"

He felt Brock stiffen. "Don't worry about it."

"I want him here too. Where is he?"

Brock huffed and shifted against him. "Said something about taking a look at the car."

"What's wrong with the car?"

"Nothing! I mean, it's not bad. Just…put a dent in it. Nothing that can't be fixed, so don't worry about it."

"James said you were drunk when you came to the hospital yesterday."

Brock was silent for a long moment before he eventually said. "Yeah, so what?"

"I was worried about you. We both were."

The Alpha sat up and turned away from him. "Don't want you worrying about me, Baron. You're sick, you should focus on getting better."

Then don't give me cause to worry, thought Zemo, though he didn't say it aloud. Instead he said. "I am. But there's little I can do except rest."

"How're you feelin'?"

"Still tired, nauseous, and feverish. But a little better." He took Brock's hand. "Could you go and get James? Having him here would help a lot."

The Alpha gave him a long look before saying "Okay. If that's what you want."

He sounds hurt, Zemo thought. But why?

"I want you too, of course," Zemo said quickly.

"Yeah, I know."

"Well, good."

He really didn't understand what the problem was. Had he and James still not spoken after their fight yesterday? Was that why Brock was acting so strangely?

*

"He's asking for you," Brock grunted, gesturing in the direction of the house.

Bucky nodded. "Okay, but can we talk first?"

"Fine."

"I just wanted to say, I don't care that you made a scene at the hospital. That doesn't matter. But it hurt that you couldn't be there. And I know the drinking thing…it's not your fault, but I'm worried about you."

"It's not a big deal," Brock mumbled. 

"I get that you don't wanna talk about it, but we're here for you if you want help."

Brock shook his head. "I don't need help."

"...Okay. Well, that's up to you. Is there anything you want to say to me?"

"Yeah, maybe you should mind your own business. And maybe you should have let me stay with my mate, then none of this would have happened."

"Come on, you know that wasn't possible."

"How would you have felt, if it had been you that had to leave, huh? Oh wait, that's never gonna happen because you're the one who's his 'official' mate, not me."

"We both know that's bullshit."

"Yeah, except when it counts!", Brock shouted. "And you're not his Alpha, I am!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means, I'm the one who's supposed to take care of him." Brock snarled, turning away from him and back towards the house.

*

Zemo had been staring at the bowl of minestrone for the last few minutes, but every time he picked up the spoon he felt his stomach clench. With a resigned sigh, he set the bowl back on the nightstand and took a careful sip of water instead. 

He heard footsteps on the stairs and then Brock reappeared, an angry expression on his face.

Zemo felt James's hurt and confusion, so he gathered that they must have had an argument.

Brock closed the door behind him he asked. "You had your soup yet?"

"No, I can't eat it right now. Maybe later."

"Fine," Brock said, in a tone which definitely did not sound fine. Zemo watched as he began pacing back and forth in front of the door.

"Did you see James?"

"Uh huh."

Maybe he needs a moment to calm down, Zemo thought, as the Alpha paced restlessly. But usually he goes to the basement, or down to the beach. 

He turned over with a sigh so that his back was to the Alpha pacing. 

"What's that supposed to mean?", Brock snapped.

"Hm?"

"You want him instead, is that it?"

Well, if you're going to be like this, Zemo thought. 

"Brock," he said, sitting up. “If you’re going to be here, I need you to be calm.”

"Whaddaya mean?", Brock said gesturing to himself. "I'm calm."

“You’re not” Zemo said, gesturing for him to sit next to him. “Come here.” Instead, the Alpha climbed on top of him and pulled off his shirt with a growl. 

Oh, that’s not what I meant, Zemo thought, as the weight of Brock’s body pressed him down and his mate kissed him possessively. But this isn’t so bad…

Brock was messier than usual, kisses turning into licking and grooming as he moved down to Zemo’s neck. The Alpha was making little growling sounds, and Zemo felt Brock’s cock hardening against his thigh. Zemo was surprised to feel his own responding quickly and gasped as a wave of arousal went through him. Brock began to grind against him desperately, still wearing his shorts, and Zemo bucked his hips up to meet him. The rubbing of his briefs against his cock was too much, but he couldn’t so much as wriggle to pull them off with his mate pressing down with the full weight of his body on him like this. He wanted to beg Brock to pull them off and touch him, or at least let him touch himself, but Brock didn’t seem to have noticed, so Zemo had no choice but to let his mate press him back into the mattress and chase every little sensation created by his Alpha.

He gasped in surprise when Brock sank his teeth into his neck, flooding his body with the intoxicating arousal that Zemo always felt when a sensation was just on the edge of being too much for him to take.

The Alpha wants me so much, he thought. He wants to claim me…

The realization turned him on even more and he kissed his mate passionately, pressing his hips up in his need. Zemo could feel that he was getting wet for his mate, his body preparing him to be fucked and knotted. But Brock was rutting against him hard and fast now, like he was already too far gone to think about actually fucking him.

The surge of arousal was building and building with every thrust of his hips, and Zemo gasped as precum leaked needily from the head of his cock. Zemo looked up at Brock’s eyes which were dark and feral, and tried to communicate the intensity of his need to be claimed through the bond. 

He gasped as Brock pressed his hands down on either side of his head, and Zemo offered his neck instinctively in submission. 

“I’m yours,” Zemo panted. “Just fuck me, please, I need it…”

He felt slick leaking through his briefs, his body so ready to be mated, but he was held in place, kept needy and unfilled by his Alpha.

Does he want me to beg for his cock? Zemo thought desperately, Because I will. I’m not ashamed. 

Suddenly he felt his mate’s presence in the bond, almost overwhelming, and then his Alpha was biting down on the other side of his neck so hard that Zemo almost blacked out.

“Fuck!” he cried out, “Give it to me Alpha, please give me your cock!”

He wanted to beg Brock to pull down his boxers and touch him, he felt like he was coming apart beneath his mate's touch, but he no longer had the words to communicate.

“So close,” Brock groaned. “I’m gonna-”

The door opened, and Zemo turned his head to see Bucky standing in the doorway.

Brock groaned, a guttural sound and Zemo felt his cock twitch and his knot swell as he pressed it against his thigh. But…he was sure Brock hadn’t cum yet?

“What the hell are you doing to him?”

“Fuck off,” Brock growled, rolling onto his back and closing his eyes.

Zemo sat up slowly, his head spinning. “James-”

Bucky took his hand and pulled him up and led him to the en suite bathroom, closing the door behind them.

Zemo sat down on the edge of the tub, woozy and disorientated. The feeling of deja vu came over him as Bucky handed him a wet washcloth, and he was jolted back to the moment when Bucky had separated him from his Alpha soon after they’d bonded. It was unfair and it hurt, and he wanted to go back into the bedroom to be with his mate…

But this was their home, not Brock’s seedy apartment. 

“No, that’s…” Zemo shook his head, pushing the washcloth away. “I don’t want that.”

Bucky knelt in front of him on the tile. “He bit you hard, Zemo.”

“So make it better.”

“You want me to…”

“Yes.”

Bucky sighed. “If you’re sure.”

Bucky bent his head to his neck and began grooming the bites. Zemo tilted his neck back with a sigh of relief. But as much as he loved James, right now he wanted to go back and be with his other mate- no , he wanted both of them! And why shouldn’t he? Couldn’t they put whatever their problem was aside for the moment? 

He felt the heady rush of hormones flooding his body as his mate licked at his throat. He could feel James’s fear and confusion through the bond, but the emotions didn’t flow into his own, so caught up was he in the sensation. It was almost hypnotic, and he felt his eyes drifting closed.

“Hey, are you okay?”, Bucky asked gently, pulling back. 

“Mm, yes. It feels good, but I would like to go back to the bedroom now.”

“Okay, but I’m staying with you.”

“I don’t want you both arguing.”

“Then he’ll have to go.”

“No, he’s knotted. And besides, I want to be with him.”

Bucky stood up and wrung the washcloth out in the sink. “I saw how rough he was with you,” he said after a moment. “He should know better than to treat you like that.”

“I enjoyed it, James,” Zemo said. “But maybe that’s not something you can understand.”

“...Maybe not, and maybe that’s my problem,” Bucky admitted. “But you’re sick right now. You need taking care of. Not that .”

“Fine. I take your point. But please don’t be angry with him. Even if you think it was irresponsible, it wasn’t anything I didn’t want.”

“It’s not just that, Zemo; it’s how he’s been acting the last few days. I guess it’s making me question… things.”

Zemo tilted his head to one side. “For instance?”

“I don’t know how much I trust him. I thought I could, but he’s reckless. Impulsive.” Bucky sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know where I’m going with this. I guess I’m just worried.”

Zemo stood up and took his hand. “Please don’t, James. I’m alright now, and as for Brock, well, I think he found it hard being separated from me like that.”

“I guess, maybe. But he’s angry with me, and seems like he thinks I’m trying to take you from him.”

“Well, maybe you should talk?”

“I’ve tried.”

“So, try again.”

“Okay, yeah, fine. Maybe you’re right.”

“But can you do it some other time? I just want to spend some time with him right now.”

“If you’re sure.” He leaned in to kiss Zemo on the cheek, and then softly on the lips. “I’ll see you later.”

*

Zemo came back into the bedroom and lay down on the bed next to their mate.

Brock, who had been lying on his back in a daze, turned onto his side and put an arm over Zemo. “You’re mine, Omega,” he murmured, stroking Zemo’s back. 

Zemo moved closer so that their bodies were pressed together. “Yes, I am.”

“You’re my mate. Gonna keep you here nice ‘n safe. Take care of you.” The Alpha leaned in and sniffed Zemo.

“You smell like him,” growled disapprovingly.

“Well, yes. James was grooming me.”

“So he just thinks he can come in here and take you from me?”

Zemo sighed. “He’s our mate, Brock. No one is taking me away from you. I really think you should talk to him and resolve…whatever this is between you.”

Brock grunted in acknowledgment but didn’t say anything.

A moment later Brock’s eyes widened as he noticed the bites on Zemo’s neck.

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry.”

Zemo shook his head. “No, I didn’t mind.”

“You’re sick, I shouldn’t be-” he broke off, and pulled away from him. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay, really,” Zemo said calmly. “You don’t need to be. I was surprised at first, but that’s all. I think you just got a little carried away.”

“I should go. I don’t- you need to rest.”

“No, stay,” Zemo said. “Stay with me now, please.”

Brock sat back down on the bed, but avoided his gaze.

“This isn’t the first time something like this has happened,” Zemo said. “We should really discuss boundaries, and aftercare.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, that I enjoyed it but I didn’t realize that seeing marks on me would upset you.”

“I’m not- that’s not it. I just shouldn’t have lost it like that.”

“You didn’t ‘lose it’, at least from my perspective.”

“Don’t wanna talk about this no more, Baron.”

“Okay, well. I just want you to know that you didn’t hurt me.”

Careful not to cause his Omega any more pain, Brock ran a thumb lightly over one of the bites. He shuddered, remembering the tooth marks he used to bear on his own neck, long since replaced with the cross-cross of his burn scars that ran down his body. Pierce was his pack leader - it was his right to mark his pack.

And if I’m their pack leader, I guess I need to mark them too.

That made him think of Winter, of biting into his powerful shoulders and hearing that perfect, delicious whine he always used to make as he knotted for him. But…he was a Beta and Betas couldn't knot, so why was his brain torturing him with the image of Bucky begging Brock to let him release his throbbing, tender knot?

God, that moment when your pack leader gave you permission to just let go…there was nothing like it…

Rumlow felt dread coiling in his stomach, along with arousal. 

As much he loved to imagine Bucky submitting to him… Bucky hadn’t . At the hospital he'd restrained him easily and pinned Brock against the wall like it was nothing. 

The one time you tried to fight a supersoldier, you lost. And that was with a whole STRIKE team behind you. What makes you think you'd stand a chance against Bucky in a real fight?

Brock heard a small, plaintive whine escape his throat.

No, I don’t want to fight him! Of course I don’t. Bucky is my mate, I'd never do anything to hurt him, it’s just…we need to establish our roles in the pack. I need Bucky to know that I’m the Alpha, which means I have to be the pack leader. 

He guarded his mates, had first mating rights and they had to do what he told them, for their own good. 

And now he was here, holding their Omega close, just like he wanted -but only because Bucky let him do that. It shouldn’t be like that… he should be telling Bucky what he was allowed to do, not the other way round!

Zemo let out a little groan as he drifted on the edge of sleep, and Rumlow shushed him softly, and cradled him against his chest.

I’m not allowed this , Brock thought. His instincts told him his pack was unstable. He shouldn’t be having these moments of calm while one of his pack was out there, ready to come in any moment and pull them apart - 

“He loves you,” Zemo mumbled softly. “Relax, moj tigric .”


Brock clenched his jaw, but didn’t reply. He didn’t want to worry his Omega more than he already had. You’re failing , a voice in his head said. You’re not making him feel safe, not at all. You’re just making it worse.

He thought about the knot. It happened again . Just like back at the hospital, when Bucky had restrained him. But this time, just from Bucky walking in on him and Zemo’s foreplay. Pierce’s voice echoed in his head. Do you understand the purpose of a submission knot? Mating rights. You’re showing your leader you’re no threat, that he has the right to do whatever he wants with you - or your mate - and you won’t stop him.”

That’s what submissive packmates did. Not Pack Leaders, Brock thought anxiously. But I’m the Alpha. I have to be the Pack Leader. That’s how it works, right?

And if I can’t be a strong Pack Leader for them…then why am I even here?

Zemo interrupted his thoughts by nuzzling against his neck and sighing softly. Brock squirmed to try to make them both more comfortable. But, as he did so, he caught the scent of Bucky still lingering in Zemo’s hair, and instinctively he tensed all over.

Zemo rolled over, turning his back to Brock and tugging the covers over himself, and let out a soft snore.

*

Bucky was seated cross-legged on the living room rug, trying to meditate. The thoughts in his head were loud, and he felt tired and frustrated by everything going on with Brock. Part of him was glad that he could be on his own now, because he'd been doing nothing but dealing with his mate's problems for the last few days.

Not that it was Zemo's fault he was sick. Bucky just needed some time alone to decompress.

And after all that, you still haven't resolved things with Brock, he thought. 

But maybe they just needed a break from each other. A little space while Brock worked out whatever insecurities he was having. Being away from Zemo had clearly affected him a lot, and Bucky wondered if it was because their bond was still so new. Zemo had said that it was difficult to be apart in the first year, but that it got easier over time. Bucky didn't remember that time in his own life in any kind of linear way, so he had no comparison. 

Brock was also angry that he wasn't Zemo's mate legally, and that would probably cause problems in the future if anything like this happened again. They'd have to look into what their options were once everything was back to normal. Whatever 'normal' for them turned out to be.

Then there was the other thing. Brock's Alpha behaviours seemed totally out of control. Even though Bucky was, according to Zemo, naturally leaned towards the Alpha end of the spectrum, he was still a Beta. He'd always got on well with Alphas, but he didn't instinctively understand their behaviour or their pack dynamics. When he'd been with Steve, he'd been more than happy to explain all that stuff to Bucky, because Steve himself had had to learn them later in life after the serum made him present. 

Rumlow, however, barely seemed to understand himself and couldn't explain much beyond saying that he needed to take care of Zemo. Which apparently meant guarding him possessively right now. 

"What's going on with you, Brock?", Bucky murmured to himself "Why are you being like this, after everything we've been through?"

Unable to concentrate on meditating, Bucky got up and sat on the couch next to Alpine, who was curled up in a ball asleep. He stroked her with one hand and she started purring, and with the other he texted Brock.

What's going on, Bones? Are you mad at me? It's ok if you are, I just want to know. 

 

Bucky sighed. 

I'm not going to do anything, I promise. Nothing bad is going to happen. Just look after Zemo and I'll see you in the morning, ok? 

A few seconds later, Brock replied. Ok. 

That wasn't very reassuring, but Bucky figured that they could talk properly tomorrow when Brock had calmed down. In the meantime, he decided to go to bed, try to catch up on his sleep and try not to worry about his mates.

*

The next morning, Brock awoke to an empty bed. For a moment, he panicked - but then he realised the ensuite shower was running, and he could even hear the Baron humming contentedly as he washed. Rumlow collapsed back against the pillows with a huff. 

A few minutes later, Zemo emerged, draping his bathrobe around himself. 

“How are you feeling?” Brock asked.

“A little better, moj tigric ," Zemo said, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "The sleep helped a lot."

“Getting those good Alpha hormones you need, huh?”

“I suppose,” Zemo shrugged. “My appetite is returning, in any case.”

“Right,” Brock pulled himself out of the bed. “Want me to go fix you some breakfast?”

“Actually, if you could - I have a particular craving. The Sokovian bakery in town makes breakfast sweets I am fond of. Plăcintă.”

“Pla-chin-what?”

“Let me write it down for you. Make sure you get the sweet ones, not savoury. Six should be enough for a good breakfast for us.”

“Three each, got it.”

“Hmm.” Zemo tore out the page of his notebook he’d written on, and handed it to his Alpha.

“Now stay here,” Brock instructed as he pulled on yesterday’s clothes. “Got it?”

“Of course, moj tigric. Of course.”

 *

Brock jogged to the bakery as fast as he could, and handed the note over to the old woman behind the counter. She looked him up and down curiously after reading the note.

“Baron Zemo, he is sick?”, she asked.

“Yeah,” Brock said. “But he’s getting better.”

“You are husband?”

“No! Well… I guess? Listen lady, can I just get the plachinnies and-”

She cut him off, yelling over her shoulder to the kitchen. “Wait now please,” she said, turning back to Brock, and walked away.

Rumlow stood anxiously, tapping his foot and looking around at the customers enjoying their morning coffees at the little tables. He thought of Zemo, hungry and alone, in bed, shivering, wondering when his Alpha would return…

“Here.” The woman was back, and she handed Brock two large paper bags. “For Baron Zemo,” she explained. “With his husbands.” 

“I’m not - what?” What the hell did Zemo write in that note? “Uh, how much do I owe you?”

“Gift, gift. For Baron Zemo.”

“Uhh, thanks,” Brock mumbled, grabbing the bags and heading home. They were far too heavy to jog with, so he walked as fast as he could, thoughts of his Omega suffering without him still filling his mind.

*

As he got closer to their house, Brock felt something. A little nudge in his brain, some kind of spark. For a moment, he felt like he was already back in bed with Zemo, kissing him, smoothing down his soft hair…

Quickly, Brock let himself in and tossed the bags down in their hallway, taking the stairs two at a time. Something was wrong, something was very, very wrong, he could feel it - 

- the bedroom he and Zemo had spent the night in was empty. Brock’s blood ran cold as he ripped open the door of the en suite and found it empty.

"Fuck!” He’d been gone less than an hour, and already he’d managed to lose his Omega!

What kind of a Pack Leader are you?

I’ve lost him! He’s gone, I can't feel him anywhere, something’s happened to him -

He bolted into the hallway and burst into the little room he had been using as a bedroom - and froze. 

There was Zemo. Lying on the bed next to him . Bucky was holding the Omega the same way Brock had, all night. Instinct made Rumlow's body bristle, and he let out a low growl of warning.

“Brock, you’re back,” Zemo said with a smile.

“Get out!” Brock snapped, his eyes fixed on Bucky.

Tigric, James and I-”

“Get back to our room, Baron."

Bucky glared straight at Brock who forced himself to meet his gaze. “Don’t talk to him like that.”

“He doesn’t belong to you, asshole," Brock growled. 

“He doesn’t belong to you either,” Bucky said coldly, and as he shifted, Brock heard the sound of his mechanical arm tensing. 

Brock didn’t want to fight. He knew he couldn’t win - not against a super soldier with a vibranium arm - but it ran deeper than that. This was his mate ; the man he’d been bonded to his entire adult life. He didn’t want to hurt Bucky… but if he wouldn’t back down? He wouldn't have a choice. He was the Alpha, he needed to take charge…

“Stop this, the both of you,” Zemo sighed, sliding out of the bed covers. “There’s no need for all this posturing. Didn’t you get us some breakfast, Brock? If I go back to the other bedroom, could you bring me some?”

Brock nodded as Helmut walked past him. Bucky watched them both cautiously.

“Don’t get between us,” Rumlow growled.

Bucky said nothing, but his gaze was unwavering, and Brock turned away with a scowl.

*

By the evening, the scent of Alpha was thick as molasses in the bedroom. Zemo sniffed the air, wrinkling his nose slightly as he wriggled against Brock's grip. He had the suspicion that the Alpha was deliberately trying to cover him in his scent, from the way he kept rubbing his glands against him and licking him, growling whenever Zemo tried to pull away. At first he'd thought that his mate had simply missed him while he'd been in the hospital, but after the argument earlier that had nearly escalated into a fight between his mates, Zemo didn't know what to think. 

It's like he doesn't know James is his mate, Zemo thought wearily. Perhaps he can't feel him in the bond, or…I don't know. But he's acting as if James is going to seperate us.

The whole situation was frustrating and confusing, and Zemo simply felt too exhausted to act as the go-between. His mates would have to sort out their issues themselves for once. Surely they could manage that? He just needed to rest…

Luckily, Brock seemed to be on the same page as him, and had stayed in bed with him all day. Zemo had requested books, food, and his laptop, which Brock had fetched without complaint, and he seemed perfectly content as long as Zemo didn't leave the bed. Not that Zemo had particularly wanted to leave, he was still recovering, after all, but the insistence on it was getting tiresome.

And now Zemo definitely felt well enough to go down stairs and lie on the couch, or even sit on the porch to get some fresh air for a while. The familiarity of the gifts from the Sokovian bakery - all kinds of pastries, cakes and cookies - had helped, though Zemo could still stomach very little.

When Brock went to the bathroom, promising to be right back, Zemo swung his legs out of bed and walked over to the window a little unsteadily. He opened the window wide, feeling the cold breeze on his flushed, sweaty skin. He'd been watching the sky darken for the last hour, and now it seemed the sun had finally set. It felt like the long, hot summer was finally coming to an end. 

"What are you doing?"

Zemo turned to face his mate. Brock was watching him suspiciously from the doorway of the bathroom. Did the Alpha think he was going to attempt to climb out of the window? Or perhaps he was worried about someone getting in?

Zemo shook his head dismissively. "Nothing, just thinking."

Brock came over and closed the window. "Scent's escapin'. Come back to bed, Baron. You want me to get you some more food?"

Zemo took a seat on the edge of the bed. He still didn't have much of an appetite, but what he really wanted was some time alone, which he would get if Brock went to make them dinner. 

"Yes, I suppose so," Zemo answered. "Thank you. Something more than these sweets.”

Brock got up, pulling on a black tank top and one of the pairs of the cargo shorts he was so fond of. When he was done, he came over to Zemo and leaned over him. Zemo held still while the Alpha inhaled his scent, making sure that his own was sufficiently covering him, then with a satisfied huff he pulled back. “There’s soup leftover, so I’ll just heat that up.”

“Oh. Lovely.”

Once the Alpha was out of the room, Zemo went back to the window and opened it wide to get some fresh air. He’d intended to return to the bed, but instead he felt restless and began pacing the room agitatedly. Brock’s behaviour had been making him more stressed than he’d realized, and he needed to calm down. 

I need to make a nest, I think that will help.

He went over to the closet and pulled out the spare things he kept in this room for just such occasions. Then he went back to the bed and pulled off all the scent-smothered bedding, unable to stand it a moment longer. It’s too overwhelming, not right at all…

After that necessary step was done, he took the materials he’d collected and began to arrange them on the bed. He folded the duvet into a soft, rounded wall and then started building up layers with the blankets and pillows. After some time, he stepped back to survey his work. He needed something , but he wasn’t sure what that thing might  be.

Zemo went to the closet and began running his fingers over the fabric of his clothes. Maybe he wanted to change into something different, feel a softer sweater or something he could wrap around himself? He began taking things off their hangers to feel them, then tossing them onto the floor in frustration.

He hesitated when his eyes fell on the clothes in James’s section of their closet, and something clicked into place. Yes, that’s it! Of course…

Quickly, he went to the laundry hamper beside the bathroom and tipped the entire contents onto the floor. He found several t-shirts and boxer shorts with James scent still on them and began tucking them into the nest. Yes. This is good. Now it was like both his mates were here. Zemo felt himself begin to relax. He was safe. 

*

Brock stirred the soup on the stove impatiently. He’d been tempted to simply pour out a bowl and pop it in the microwave, but then he wondered what his Nonna would have thought of that, and decided to grab a saucepan instead. It would take longer, but the Baron deserved the best.

After what felt like forever, Brock was sure it was hot enough. Carefully, he transferred it to a bowl, placed it on a tray, and added a cool glass of water and a couple of those little honey cookies from the bakery in case the Omega fancied something sweet afterwards.

He carefully let himself into the bedroom, and was surprised to see Zemo sitting on the floor, surrounded by piles of dirty laundry.

“What’s going on?” He asked cautiously. He noted the window was open again, and made a mental note to close it.

“The scent has to be just right,” Zemo replied, as though that explained anything, and Brock watched him bring one of his own socks to his nose, sniff it, then toss it aside.

“Are those my sweatpants?” Brock pointed with a foot.

“Probably, if you put them in the laundry basket.”

“Right. Well, I got your soup.” He placed the tray down on the desk, and turned to the bed. There was even more laundry there, along with some blankets and sheets, folded and tucked into a loose horseshoe shape.

Suddenly, he realized what he was looking at. Memories from the Special Sexual Education classes he was forced to attend at school came rushing back to him - that horrible pile of stinky blankets in the corner of the classroom that the Omega kids were supposed to use when they experienced their first heats.

This was the start of a nest .

Zemo was watching Brock warily as he approached it, although he pretended to be more interested in a pair of boxer shorts.

Omegas are defensive of their nests , Brock knew. But maybe that only applied when they were in heat? This must be a - what was it called? A comfort nest . Omegas made them to calm down when they were stressed.

Cautiously, Brock leaned over the entwined fabrics for a closer look. It smelt strongly - of himself and Zemo, of sweat and sex and warmth, and the scent was pleasing. Being careful not to untangle any of it, Brock ran a hand over it, taking in the mixture of materials. It was so well crafted that even though it was just a jumble of different items, it held together well.

My Omega is an expert.

“Do you like it?” Zemo breathed. He was still watching Rumlow closely from the floor.

But then, Brock noticed something. He smelled it first. Under his own powerful musk and Zemo’s lighter, fresh aroma, he could sense something else. He only caught it for a moment, then he leaned in closer. There!

Brock tugged at the nest, and pulled out the offending item. A simple grey t-shirt, with the left sleeve ripped off to allow for a metal arm. 

And there. A pair of dark blue boxer briefs that didn’t belong to him or Zemo. A sock. Another shirt. A pillowcase, drenched in a distinctive scent.

Our nest has someone else’s scent in it, Brock thought in panic. Am I not good enough for him? Am I not fulfilling my role?

“What are you doing?" Zemo cried out, jumping to his feet as Brock began ripping into the nest. “Stop it!”

But Brock didn’t stop. Instead, he continued desperately clawing through the fabrics, destroying the careful arrangement Zemo had made. He was pulling out everything that smelled of Bucky, tossing it onto the floor, determined to remove all trace of the invader’s smell.

“Brock! Stop this!” Zemo shouted, and when his Alpha ignored him he tried to push him back. But instead, Brock grabbed an armful of nesting material, staggered to the open window and tossing it out. The omega let out a roar of anguish as his careful handiwork fell down into the garden below. 

Through the bond, Brock felt a sharp stab of pain - but he couldn’t stop. He HAD to cleanse his territory of any other Alpha - 

As Brock bent to grab a blanket to throw, Zemo dove at him and sunk his teeth deep into his arm. Rumlow roared with pain and tried to squirm to pull the Omega off, but he clung on tight and flailed at Brock, scratching and hitting any part he could reach.

Suddenly, Bucky was there between them, pulling them apart, throwing Zemo down onto the bed and Brock onto the ground into the tattered remains of the nest.

“What the hell are you both doing?”, he demanded, looming over Brock.

*

Bucky felt it first in the bond. The change from a calmness that was almost serenity, to panic. Then he heard the sound of raised voices from the bedroom, and sprinted up the stairs without a moment’s hesitation.

When he pulled open the door to the bedroom, he saw Brock standing by the open window holding a blanket and struggling with Zemo who had sunk his teeth into the Alpha's arm and looked as if he wanted to tear him apart. 

Bucky got between them and separated them easily. "What’s going on? What the hell are you both doing?", he demanded. 

Brock got to his feet, shouldering past him and placing himself in front of the bed where Zemo was. "Don't touch him," he snarled.

Bucky was frustrated, but not surprised by the Alpha’s reaction. His dark eyes gleamed with a defiance that Bucky had seen several times over the last few days, but there was also a flicker of something like - fear. How was he supposed to get through to his mate when he was like this? He tried to reach out through the bond, but he came up against a roiling, volatile cloud of static that interfered and made it impossible for him to make contact. 

Zemo slipped off the bed and came over to stand next to James. "No," he said, glaring at Rumlow. “You stay away from me."

The Alpha tore his gaze away from Bucky, eyes fixed on his Omega.

"What? Baron…"

Zemo shook his head. "You ruined it, Brock."

Brock took a step towards him and Zemo took one back. Bucky could see that he was watching the Alpha warily, and looked as if he might bolt out of the room.

Bucky held his hand out to stop Rumlow. "Okay, that’s enough. You should go.”

The Alpha growled at him, baring his teeth. "I don't take orders from you!" 

Bucky realized that he couldn’t deal with both of them right now, especially not if Brock was posturing like this for the sake of their Omega. First he’d deal with Zemo, then he’d deal with Brock. 

"Get out,” he said firmly, ignoring the fact that Rumlow looked as if he was about to lunge at him. 

The moment he said the words, Brock's expression wavered, and in that moment Bucky thought he looked strangely vulnerable. Then he slowly turned away and walked out of the room without a word. Bucky heard him go downstairs, and then the sound of the door to the basement opening, followed by a loud bang as he closed it behind him.

Bucky turned his attention to Zemo, who was sitting down on the edge of the bed, arms crossed over his stomach. His eyes were closed and his breathing shallow.

Bucky sat down next to him on the bed. "Talk to me."

"He destroyed the nest I was making," Zemo said, and as the words left his lips Bucky felt the hurt and confusion bleeding through the bond. "I don't understand why Brock would do that. He just started throwing things out the window."

"So you bit him?" 

"I might have got a little…carried away,” Zemo confessed. “I was just frustrated after being cooped up in here, and with how possessively he's been acting." 

“You shouldn’t have attacked him, Zemo.”

“I know, I know. I’m…I wasn’t thinking clearly.” Zemo paused. "Ugh, I feel awful..." 

"It's not your fault.”  

Zemo shook his head. "No, I mean…I feel sick."

“Okay, just breathe. You want some water?”

“No.”

“Did you take your medicine?”

“I did- oh, but that was yesterday. I must have forgotten.”

Bucky sighed, and walked over to the nightstand. “I told him to make sure you took it.” He located the pills and handed them to Zemo with a glass of water. “Here. Take these now.”

Zemo looked at them for a moment as if he would like nothing more than to toss them on the ground, but then he obeyed, swallowing them down with a grimace. He followed them up with a few measured sips of water, as Bucky ran his hand soothingly over his mate’s back.

“That’s good,” he said, and then felt that Zemo was shivering, “Oh, you’re cold.”

He looked around at the open window and the room in complete disarray.  "Okay. We should go next door. You need to get some rest and I know you, you’re not gonna be able to do that here."

Zemo nodded in agreement. “I want to take a bath first."

Bucky leaned in to catch his mate's scent. "Yeah, it’ll be good to get the stress-scent off. Help you calm down."

He stood up and offered Zemo his hand. "Come on, let's go."

*

They were in the main bathroom across from the bedrooms, rather than the smaller en suite. Zemo loved the tub in here, because he could fully stretch out and luxuriate in the warm water. Bucky wasn’t sure if it was an Omega thing or a Zemo thing, but either way his mate was making up for lost time after all the years of cold prison showers. Luckily he’d kept the medication down, and, though he was still tired, Bucky could tell that his mate was beginning to warm up and relax. 

“Where’s Brock?”, Zemo asked.

“I heard him go downstairs to the basement,” Bucky replied.

Zemo closed his eyes and let his head rest on the towel. “The heat sickness is still interfering with the bond. I can’t feel you through it properly, let alone him.”

“You want me to go check on him?”

“Hm. I’m not sure. I’m still angry with him, but I also don’t like not knowing where he is.”

Bucky stood up. “I’ll go, I don’t want you worrying.”

“Thank you.”

Bucky got up and walked out of the room. As he walked to the end of the corridor and descended the stairs, he felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. Why did he suddenly have a feeling that something was wrong? He hesitated at the door that led to the basement, before knocking twice.

“Hey, Brock?”, he called.

No response.

“You down there?”

Still no answer.

It wasn’t like Brock to ignore him like that, even if he was angry, so Bucky turned the handle and opened the door. He came down the dusty wooden stairs, but there was no Brock down here. In fact, it seemed like he’d moved his things from down here, and there were only paint sheets and the boxes they hadn’t yet taken to be donated. 

Bucky hurried back upstairs, checking the kitchen, the living room, the downstairs bathroom, but there was no sign of him. 

He could have gone out for a run , Bucky thought, but he wasn’t convinced. He’d heard Brock go down to the basement, and now all his stuff was gone. Bucky sat down on the floor with his back against the couch and closed his eyes. He cleared his mind, and tried to focus on his bond with Rumlow. He started small, feeling if Brock was in the same room as him, and then gradually broadening his awareness to the rest of the house. But he couldn’t feel Brock in the house, or anywhere in the nearby area. 

Bucky pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Brock. He heard a vibration coming from the hall, and located the phone in Brock’s old leather jacket. He hadn’t taken it with him. 

Guess that means he doesn’t wanna talk.

He checked his watch. Nine thirty. Brock might have gone into town, maybe to a bar or something. He could take the car and drive around looking for him. He’d done it before. 

But maybe Brock just needed some space from them? Bucky didn’t want to pressure him into coming back before he was ready.

It’s not like last time, he told himself. He knows that we care about him, and that we love him.

He doesn’t think that when I said ‘get out’ I meant that I was actually throwing him out of the house…right?

Bucky closed his eyes and focused on the bond again. It felt like Brock was far away, already, getting further by the minute. 

Fuck.

He was about to grab the keys and rush out when he realized that he couldn’t leave Zemo alone while he was still sick. The Omega needed him close, needed his hormones so that he could get better. He couldn’t just take off after Rumlow.

Okay, don’t panic. First, you’re going to go upstairs and tell Zemo what’s happened. Then you’re going to stay with him, and in the morning see if he’ll be okay enough for you to go after Brock. 

Hopefully Brock would be back by then, or at least call them to let them know what was going on. But even if he didn’t, Bucky had a plan. All he had to do was follow it, and everything would be okay. 

That’s what he had to keep telling himself.

*

Chapter Text

*

Brock ran down their driveway, carrying only his lockbox and not daring to look back at the house. He could feel his Omega’s distress unbearably loud in his head, and it was a relief to get away from his mates. The thought of that made Brock feel even worse. He really would be better off gone. For all of them. 

He thought for a second about taking the car - stealing the car - but then changed his mind. He’d already done enough damage and he didn’t want to cause Bucky and the Baron any more trouble than he already had.

Instead, he decided to head into town on foot. He could get a bus to Boston from there, and after that - well, he didn’t have a fucking clue. Probably New York, because he could go anywhere after that. The only thing that mattered now was getting as far away from all this as possible.

I failed. I fucked up big time, he thought as he boarded the bus to the city. Now they’re done with me. Through. Finished. 

The other passengers avoided the back of the bus, where he was sitting. Brock was rough-looking and sweaty, and he could almost feel the stress leaking out of his skin. 

Why couldn’t I be the Alpha they needed? , he thought as he stared out into the darkness beyond the window. Why can’t I be their Pack Leader? I was their Alpha, it’s what I’m meant to do…What the hell’s wrong with me?

He kept remembering that look in Bucky’s eyes when he’d sent him away, and how he’d just…submitted to it, accepting that he had no hope of fighting him. Even Zemo had rejected him, siding with the Beta over him!

It made Rumlow feel sick. He was a useless, broken failure and his mates had finally realized it.

*

Bucky didn't see any point lying to Zemo, so he decided to go upstairs and tell him that Brock had left the house. He found his mate in the guest room. He'd gotten out of the bath and was now curled up on the bed in his robe, stroking the fabric of the comforter. 

I feel strangely calm, Bucky realized. We had to deal with worse than this last time, way worse. And we got through that, didn’t we?

"I think he took off," Bucky said, sitting down on the bed next to him. "He didn't take the car but I can feel that he's moving away."

"That's what I'd feared," Zemo said with a sigh.

"You don’t seem surprised. Did Brock say something to you?"

Zemo shook his head slightly. "No, but it's what he does when things are overwhelming for him."

"You think he's just gonna come back when he's cooled off?"

"I don't know, James."

"Are you mad at him?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I don't want him to come home."

"Do you think I should go after him?"

"Yes, especially if he's drinking. He might do something reckless." 

Bucky thought about that for a moment. “I agree, but first I need to know how you’re doing.”

“Less nauseous, “Zemo admitted. “Still hot and cold, but I’m mostly tired. I just want to sleep.”

“Okay, then I’m not leaving you alone right now," Bucky said firmly.

“James-”

“I’m serious, Zemo. And don’t say you’re fine, because you’ve just told me you’re not. I just need you to be honest with me right now, okay? Let me look after you.”

Zemo looked at him for a moment before saying. “...Yes, alright. I apologize, James.”

“Good. Now that we’ve worked that out, let’s get an early night. And in the morning, we’ll see what the situation is.”

*

 Brock stared out the window of the train in a daze, watching as the dark landscape rushed by. I’ll never come back here again , he vowed. That’s the least those two deserve .

By the time he’d arrived at Grand Central Terminal, Brock had made up his mind. He’d get as far away from here as he could on the cash he had - a few hundred at most. It was Zemo’s money really, but Brock figured that leaving was sort of like paying him back in the long run. He’d definitely save a lot of money on therapy. It would be plenty to get a room for the night, and something mind-numbing. Alcohol. Drugs maybe, if he could scare up something. He didn’t really care as long as it stopped him feeling like his chest was full of knives.

A woman with long, dark hair brushed past him. She was pulling a kid along by the hand and was hurrying along the platform. Brock watched them as they rushed onto a train just moments before the doors closed behind them.

"You're my kid brother, ‘course I'm gonna look out for you. I’m always here if you need me, right? You can always call me or talk to me about anything and we’ll work it out, ok?”

Brock sat down on a bench and dropped his head into his hands. Was that where it all went wrong, maybe? He didn’t even know if any of his family were still alive - and even if they were, he suspected their offer of help was long since withdrawn.

I’m not going back to New Jersey. I can't. Not now.

The bright lights and sounds and smells of the station were really raising the hair on his arms, and suddenly he needed to get outside. The streets were just as busy, but at least out in the open he could just keep his head down and walk. He needed to get away from here, he had to keep moving. I’m harder to find here . Not safe, but less of a target. Camouflaged. 

Most of those around him were Betas, with the occasional cyclo on blockers passing him by. Once, an Alpha came too close to him and he couldn’t help snarling in annoyance. He quickly ducked into a corner store before he could do something stupid. He wasn’t that far gone yet .

Maybe you’re going feral, Brock thought to himself, as he walked down to the liquor aisle. A wild animal. Totally out of control.

“Fuck it,” he muttered to himself, picking up a bottle of vodka and weighing it in his hand for a second before taking it to the checkout. There was no use pretending to himself that he wasn’t going to buy it, or that it was just fuel to get him wherever he was going. It was either his mates, or this. And they didn’t want him, so this is what he had left.

He swigged vodka straight out of the bottle as he walked to the Port Authority Bus Terminal, only stashing it away in the brown paper bag when he walked in. He bought a ticket for the 3am bus, and slumped down on one of the metal benches in the waiting area. He was starting to drift off to sleep when the bus finally arrived, and he pulled himself up unsteadily, keeping his arm locked tight around the lockbox he’d kept glued to his side all this time.

“We’re arriving in Richmond at 10:50 tomorrow morning,” the driver informed him.

“Fine,” Brock managed to grunt in acknowledgement as he walked past him. There were only four other passengers on the bus, and Brock took a seat at the back, resting his head against the smudged, dirty window. The journey could go on forever, for all he cared. 

He didn’t know what he was going to do when it ended.

*

At their first rest stop a few hours down the road, Brock went into the dirty bathroom and finished off the remainder of the vodka. Then he bought another from the small convenience store, and tipped it into an empty water bottle he’d found in the trash. 

The driver rolled his eyes when Rumlow staggered back onto the bus, but he didn’t say anything.

Some time later, Brock became aware of the sound of raised voices. There was a guy yelling at him, and Brock realized he was yelling back. At least, it was probably him. He felt his numb lips moving and his mouth forming words from far away. And then he felt someone grab both his shoulders, so he swung a fist. Then the bus stopped, and Rumlow was dragged to the open doors and tossed out onto the gritty asphalt. He heard a thud as his lockbox landed on the ground, close enough to his head that he grimaced at the clattering it made, and then he was watching the bus get smaller and smaller as it drove away.

Brock rubbed his eyes and tried to remember what had happened. Someone had touched his box, maybe, and then he was accused of being drunk… It was all a blur. The sun was rising as he watched the bus vanishing into the distance. Whatever. It didn’t matter now. The roadside gravel was nice and cool as he laid there for a few minutes, not seeing or feeling anything in particular.

A car drove past him, blaring its horn. Brock sneered at it as he dragged himself out of the road, pulling himself to his feet and trying to take stock of where the hell he even was. A couple of miles on the outskirts of some city, it looked like. 

He sighed, and started walking, holding out a thumb on the off-chance that someone might take pity on him and pick him up. To his surprise, it wasn’t long before a truck pulled over for him.

“Where you going, dude?”, the man asked. He was a burly guy with a brown beard and short, curly hair. He looked tough, but his manner was friendly enough that Brock didn’t think anything of accepting the lift. 

Brock shrugged. “The city, I guess.”

“Okay, that’s where I’m headed. Hop in.”

“Yeah, sure,” Brock shrugged, tossing his lockbox into the back of the pickup and getting in. 

“I’ve got a job in Arlington,” the man said. “But I can drop you by the bridge, if you want to go downtown?”

“Yeah, wherever.”

The man gave him a look of pity, but Brock bit his tongue. He didn’t want to snap at the one guy who’d picked him up. 

His ride chatted to him as they drove, but Brock barely bothered responding. He stared out of the window as the sky lightened from slate grey to a washed-out blue, thinking about the men he loved. He was used to being far away from Winter, but now that he was sobering up he realized how bad it hurt being away from Zemo. They’d only just bonded a few months ago. The worst was being away from both of them, though, knowing that he was never going to see them again….

“You’re a vet, right?”, the guy said, interrupting Brock’s train of thought.

Brock watched as the man pulled up his sleeve to reveal a fading tattoo of a knife and an eagle on his forearm.  

“I can always tell. We look out for our own, brother.”

Brock turned to look out the window. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

He realized suddenly that he recognised a building they’d drove past, and he struggled to remember where he’d seen it before.

“Right, my bad,” the guy said. “So, you’re just passing through?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” Brock said, trailing off as he recognised something else. A monument. “Wait, this is Washington D.C.”

“Well, yeah,” the guy laughed. “Don’t tell me you thought you were in Washington State, man, you wouldn’t be the first but-”

“And you said the bridge?” Brock swallowed. It felt like time was slowing down, like something really, really bad was about to happen.

“Yeah, it’s just coming up,” his ride gave him a sideways glance. “Goes over Theodore Roosevelt Island-”

Oh no. Oh no . Fuck! How could this have happened? Brock’s breathing was suddenly coming short and sharp, and he felt like he could barely see. He was back here, where it happened . It wasn’t possible - 

The driver pulled over. “Hey, take it easy now-”

But Brock spilled out of the truck, slamming the door behind him. He grabbed his lockbox out of the back and watched as, after a few long seconds, the guy drove off. 

I swore I’d never come back here, Brock thought as he looked down at the churning waters of the Potomac river. This is where I lost him the first time.

This was where the Triskelion fell and Winter dug him out of the burning rubble with his bare hands, cradled him, willed him back to life - and where I sent him away. 

Now he’s sent me away, and I’ve ended up back here.

He could still remember the burning in his lungs, how every breath brought a pain that felt like it would kill him. Darkness, then Winter’s face and he pulled him from the rubble and held him carefully in his arms.

“Go, Winter!” Brock choked, his burned throat making his voice come out in a rasp . “Leave!”

“I’m not leaving without you, Sir.”

“Go! That’s….an order! Get out of here!”

“...I’ll take you with me.”

“NO! Fuck off! Leave! Never…come back here…you understan’ Win?” Brock coughed and the pain was blinding. “Go! Please!”

Winter stared down at him with those bright blue eyes, filled with worry and hurt.

“Fuck,” Brock wheezed, gasping for air. “Ok… Желание.”

“Don’t do this,” Winter whispered. “Please, Sir.”

Ржавый…Семнадцать,” Brock continued reciting the words in agony.

“Sir, I love you,” Winter pleaded, holding him tight against his chest as tears ran down his cheeks. “I love you, I love you.”

“...Товарный вагон,” Brock finished, and watched as the spark faded from his mate’s eyes.

“Ready to comply.”

*

Bucky woke up early, showered and fed Alpine. He could tell that Brock had stopped moving, and he had a general sense that their mate had travelled south east, but he couldn’t tell exactly how far he’d gone. Just in case, he threw together a bag with some of his and Brock’s clothes as well as some toiletries, then went back up to the bedroom to check on Zemo. 

His mate was still asleep, so Bucky jostled him gently to wake him up. Zemo opened his eyes slowly and reluctantly. “James? What’s wrong?”, he mumbled.

“Hey, sorry,” Bucky whispered. “I just need to know how you’re doing, so I can decide if I should go after Brock today.”

With a sigh, Zemo pulled himself up into a sitting position and took a drink from the glass of water on the nightstand. 

“I feel better, I think,” He said, after a moment. “I’m tired, but I no longer feel sick or have a fever. Which means the worst of it has likely passed.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I was doing some research about heat sickness yesterday. I think I’ll be fine if you go.”

“What if it comes back?”, Bucky asked with concern. 

“I’ll call you if it gets worse again. Please, James, I just want you to bring him back. I need to know that he’s alright.”

“Okay,” Bucky said, taking his hand. “I’ll get us some breakfast before I go. Do you need me to make lunch for you to have later too?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” Zemo said with a yawn. “Just breakfast, I think.”

Bucky went downstairs and made them both some toast and peanut butter, with some herbal tea for Zemo.

“Why don’t we talk, before you go looking for him?”, Zemo asked when Bucky returned to the room and handed him the plate.

“Yeah, of course. What do you wanna talk about?”

“About last night,” Zemo said. “I’m thinking more clearly now, and it seems to me that Brock wasn’t seeing you as his mate, but as a competing Alpha. He wasn’t thinking rationally, but instinctively. Which means the problem is likely more than simple jealousy.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“He really believed that you were going to take me away from him, James. That you had to power to do that.”

“I’m still not following.”

Betas ,” Zemo mumbled. “Very well. It seems to me that our Alpha is unsure of his place in our little pack.”

“Okay… And what does that mean?”

“It means that he doesn’t know what is expected of him, or what he is allowed to do. He’s lashing out and trying to take control because he’s fearful.”

“Of what?”

“Of you , James.’”

“Oh. What does he think I’m gonna do?”

“I don’t know. You will have to ask him that yourself.”

“Why me? Why not you?”

“Simple. Because I am an Omega. He doesn’t see me as a…competitor, as it were.”

“So it’s because we’re both bonded to you?”

“In a way, but mostly because you smell like an Alpha now and he’s only ever known you as an Omega.”

“But I’m neither!” Bucky protested. “I don’t even know how to act like an Alpha!”

Zemo thought about this for a moment before saying. “Usually Alphas fight to establish their position in the pack. And most importantly, who takes the role of Pack Leader.”

Bucky shook his head. “I’m not gonna fight him, that’s ridiculous.”

“Not really fight. More like wrestling, where the aim is to pin your opponent.”

“And I’m supposed to let him win?”

“No, not exactly. One of you will submit to the other. But I really think you should talk to him about this, James. I anticipate there’s more to it than that.”

“Okay. Well, thanks for the talk. I’ll call you when I’ve found him.”

“I love you, James.”

“I love you too.”

“Tell him I love him, please.”

“Don’t worry,” Bucky said, kissing Zemo softly on the lips. “You can tell him yourself when I bring him home.”

*

For just a moment, everything was okay. 

He was alone in bed, but the Baron was probably just in the kitchen, making some coffee. Bucky would knock on his door any minute, asking him if he wanted to go for a run.

But then Brock felt the wave of grief wash over him, and he remembered that there was no house, no Baron, no Bucky. No one waiting for him. Only a shitty little motel on the outskirts of the city, the same one he should have died in years ago. His head was throbbing like hell, and he felt like he would have been sick except there was nothing left inside him.

He was empty.

He sat up blearily, shading his eyes against the weak light streaming in through the busted-up blinds. He looked down and noticed his lockbox next to the bed. No matter how wasted he got, he knew that he could never lose it. Those memories were all he had left.

He was wearing boxers, but the rest of his clothes were scattered across the dirty red carpet of the room he’d rented the night before. Or early that morning. Brock couldn’t remember. He fumbled for his phone on the nightstand, only to dislodge the almost empty bottle of vodka which fell onto the floor. Thankfully it didn’t break, but the remains of the liquor seeped into the carpet. 

Maybe it was for the best, though Brock knew from experience that he was going to feel like hell until he got another drink in him. Had there been a liquor store around here? Or a convenience store maybe? He couldn’t remember. He scanned the room. No mini bar. 

Well, if he was going to go out and get some supplies, the first thing he’d need to do was get dressed. He forced himself out of bed and stumbled around the room, gathering up his clothes. He checked the pocket of his jeans for his phone, then realized he’d left it back home - no, not his home, their home. Bucky and Zemo’s home. 

“S’not like I’m gonna get calls from anyone else, anyway.” Brock mumbled aloud. Fuck. Whatever. He didn’t need it. They were better off without him.

As he pulled on his clothes, he noticed that the clock next to the bed read half past five, and from the light streaming in through the closed blinds, he knew that he must have slept all day. Fine. It wasn’t like he had to be anywhere. He’d lived for years like this, and, sure, he’d kind of gotten used to things being different these last few months (better, so much better), but the second he’d left he’d fallen back into his old habits.

Obviously this is just my natural state, Brock thought. A useless fucking waste of space. No point fighting it anymore. 

He'd never been a proper mate, not really. He’d forced the bonds with both his mates, so no wonder none of it worked like it was supposed to. He couldn’t keep his temper under control, or stop himself getting possessive over his Omega, and he couldn’t establish himself as Pack Leader. He couldn’t even purr right. He was a complete failure of an Alpha, and this is what he deserved.

Brock dunked his head under the tap and drank until he was gasping for air. Then he stood up straight, wiping his mouth, and caught a glimpse of himself in the rust-speckled mirror over the sink. He was a mess - eyes bloodshot and with dark rings underneath, his stubble growing out already, his hair mussed up and greasy. The broken skin on his knuckles where he’d punched the floor of the basement after learning what Pierce had done to his mate had cracked open again, maybe while he was moving around in his sleep. With a sigh, he washed the dried blood from his hands. 

Pierce would have killed me if he saw me looking like this, Brock thought.

He froze, holding his hands under the cold running water. He didn’t want to think about that- but… how could he not, when he was back where it had all happened? He felt the ghostly presence of Pierce looming over his shoulder, growling in his ear. “You aren’t looking your best, Commander.”

It was true. Pierce always wanted his men to look their best - especially his Alpha Squad. He kept them like Dobermans, freshly groomed, cropped and docked, leashed and ready. Brock had liked that. And he hated that he liked that.

But…the truth was that he needed something, someone to look good for. He needed a standard he had to maintain, and a goal to strive towards. That’s what he’d loved about HYDRA, really. The structure, the rules, the simplicity ; a place where he understood exactly what was expected of him. 

I miss it. I wish I was

No! He couldn’t think like that! He knew now that it was all a lie. There’d never been any great purpose, it was all mind games and bullshit to keep them all in their place. 

But it felt good, didn’t it? When you knew what you had to do, when someone else was calling the shots?

Brock felt his heart sink. His knot was swelling up at just the memory of Pierce. Nothing could ever make him pop a knot like Pierce could, nothing. His dick was hard too, starting to leak with need already, and with a broken resignation, Brock went back into the bedroom and opened his lockbox and pulled out the bottle of DIOS. He popped the cap and sprayed it liberally over the bedsheets, then collapsed back into them. He gasped as he palmed his knot through his boxers, inhaling the scent on the pillow, hoping to get some relief from the familiarity of the routine. 

He remembered that firm voice that offered no room for disobedience commanding: "On your knees now. Hold that knot for me.”

Brock did as he was told immediately, falling to his knees and cupping his knot. 

Pierce hummed in approval. “You're a good man, Rumlow. Honest. Hard-working. Strong. How long has the Winter Soldier been in cryo so far this time?" 

"Two months, Sir,” Brock responded, keeping his eyes on the ground.

"Bet you miss him, don't you?" 

"...Sir?" 

"Do you think about him at night when you're alone in your bunk? Find yourself getting hard at the thought of him? Get yourself off thinking of the last time you were with him?" 

"..." 

Pierce walked over to Brock and ran his fingers through his hair. "Close your eyes, Commander. Keep holding that knot tight. Tell me, when you're thinking about your Winter, what do you see?" 

"... his lips," Brock answered quietly. "... his back. The way he looks at me when he wants me." He was getting hard, his knot throbbing in his fingers as the rest of his dick swelled. 

"Good." Pierce tugged on Brock's hair, making him gasp in surprise as his head was pulled back. He opened his eyes for a moment, and saw his Pack Leader staring at him. Then he screwed them shut again. "Tell me more." 

"His scent,” Rumlow gasped. “That little noise he makes when he wants my attention." Almost subconsciously, he'd slipped one hand under his knot, cupping it with his fingers so it felt like a catch. His other hand slowly rubbed the full length of his shaft, from the base of his knot to the tip. "His hard cock, the way he presses it against me when he needs me... how he gets slick for me..." 

Pierce drew a shaky breath. With one hand still tangled in Brock's hair, he brought the other to his throat, and pressed down firmly on the two glands on either side of Brock's neck. Brock whined, spreading his knees further apart. He would have sunk lower if his Pack Leader's fingers weren't still grasping a handful of his hair.

 "You're such a good boy, Brock." Pierce whispered. "So obedient for your master. Using that cock of yours just for him. Knotting on command like the breeding stud you are. That's what you are, Brock, isn't it? My stud. My prize-winning, proven, breeding stud who loves to knot whenever his Pack Leader tells him to."

Rumlow's hand was moving faster and faster over his cock now, the fingers around his knot squeezing and releasing it in time to the throbs of his heartbeat. "Yes, sir..." He stuttered, squirming a little under the pressure Pierce was still applying to the glands under his skin. Pierce’s Alpha scent mixed with his strong cologne filled Brock's nose, his mind. This was his Pack Leader, his master. He whimpered again.

"Come for me now, pup." 

With a yelp of need, Rumlow spilled across the cold floor in front of him, while Pierce cruelly tugged back on his hair. His eyes were still tightly screwed shut, and he collapsed as Pierce released him, shaking, onto the ground. "Well done, Commander." Pierce stepped past the trembling man sprawled on the floor, who was still gasping through the aftershocks of his orgasm. He sat down at his desk, and began casually flicking through some of his paperwork. "You're dismissed now, Rumlow."

Brock lay back against the comforter, covered in that horrible, musky scent he just couldn’t survive without. He hated Pierce, he hated him so much, but he needed him too. Needed someone to take control of him, make everything make sense.

Suddenly, he felt so cold, alone, naked, pathetic... He mopped up his come with a tissue and pulled on his dirty clothes. The smell of the bed sheets made him feel sick, so he curled up in a ball on the floor, gritted his teeth and sobbed.

*

Bucky continued south on route ninety-five through Philadelphia. He was getting closer, but he could feel he still had further south to go. He’d been driving for six hours with only a quick break to get some gas and a bite to eat. He realized at some point that he’d switched into mission-mentality, and had thought about little else but his mate since he got in the car. Which wasn’t a bad thing exactly, because it meant that he could concentrate more intensely on their bond. 

“Just wait for me,” Bucky murmured to himself. “Don’t go anywhere. I’m coming.”

He’d been thinking about Zemo too, back at the house. He hated feeling like he was split between his two mates, but it couldn’t be helped. From what Zemo had said, it seemed like it had been because of him that Brock had left. He had to be the one to get him to come back.

“‘Pack Leader’,” Bucky said to himself, the words foreign on his tongue. “Yeah, right.”

He didn’t want to fight Brock, or do anything except wrap his arms around his mate and hold him tight and tell him that he loved him and that everything was going to be okay. He’d had enough of fighting, for several lifetimes. But maybe that was the problem. He was a Beta: he just didn’t have the natural instincts needed to respond to Brock like an Alpha would. Bucky sighed wearily. It was exhausting. 

He glanced at the sign up ahead. No, it couldn’t be? But yes, that was the way he could feel Brock.

“Fine. Washington it is.”

*

Hours later, Bucky easily broke the hinge on the motel room door as he forced his way in. From the scrambled mess of feelings in the bond, he knew that Brock was inside, and his need to find his mate was overriding every other thought. 

The scent hit him first. It took him a second to remember where he’d smelled it before - it was that horrible cologne Zemo tried out… or at least, told us he was trying…

But here, mixed with the scent of Alpha… he was suddenly struck with the sensory-memory of a man’s large hands grabbing his hips- 

Pierce. 

Momentarily, Bucky was horrified, and couldn’t stop himself from glancing around as though he was expecting Pierce to be there, somehow. No, he’s dead. He’s gone, forever. But then why did the room smell like him? And where was Brock?

The room was disgustingly unclean, with a ratty carpet and a worn-out bed. But a little groan from the other side of the room caught Bucky’s attention. There, lying, shivering, on the floor next to the bed, was Rumlow. Even through Rumlow’s boxers, and in his barely conscious state, it was obvious to Bucky his knot was tight and swollen.

“Hey,” Bucky gasped as he knelt onto the floor beside his mate. “Hey, Bones, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

“W-winter?” Brock asked groggily, pulling himself into a sitting position, back against the wall.

“No, it’s-” Bucky broke off with a sigh. Now was not the time. “Yeah, Bones. It’s me.” He reached out hesitantly towards his mate. “Are you okay?”

Brock seemed not to have understood what he’d said, because he rubbed his face with the back of his hand and mumbled. “The fuck you doing here?”

“I came to get you,” Bucky said. “We were worried about you, you know that?”

“Why?” Rumlow’s voice wavered. “You got what you wanted, didn’t you? You won. You got your life with the Baron, and I’m not gonna ruin it for you no more.” He let out a choked noise, something between a sob and the strange sound he made instead of purring. “So just fuck off.” 

“No. I want you to come home, Bones,” Bucky insisted. “So does Zemo.”

“Nah,” Brock said, shaking his head insistently. “There’s no way he wants me after how I treated him. I just... I didn't mean to…but I know it wasn’t okay, what I did.”

He looked up at Bucky and finally met his eyes. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said slowly. “He’s doing better.”

“Good.”

“He’s not mad at you, not really. Just worried. We talked this morning. All this Alpha stuff you’ve had going on- I don’t really get it- but Zemo said he thinks you’re trying to be Pack Leader.”

Brock shifted uncomfortably and muttered. “Yeah, well not anymore. Like I said, I’m done ruining your life.”

“But-”

“You came here to drag me back so I can keep fucking everything up for you, is that it?”

Bucky sighed. “We’re gonna work this out, Bones.”

“And what if I don’t wanna?”

Bucky looked at mate. He took in his greasy, patchy stubble, the dark circles under his eyes, his hunched-up posture and wanted nothing more than to take him in his arms and hold him close. He knew that Brock wouldn’t accept that right now, though. Would see it as sympathy which he felt he didn’t deserve, or worse, pity.

“If you don’t want to come back with me, then we’ll respect that,” Bucky said finally. “We’re not gonna make you do anything, but you have to know we’d always wish we could have worked something out. We’d miss you, and we’d want to know you were doing okay, wherever you ended up.”

Brock looked down at the floor, scratching at the scars on his cheek. “Fuck off.”

Bucky felt a sudden jolt in their bond, so sharp it was almost painful. The mixture of shame and longing from his mate was so strong that it was almost painful.

“You don’t want to leave us,” Bucky said simply. “You just think you have to because you’re no good.”

Brock slouched away from him, pulling his knees up to his chest.

“But that’s not true, Bones. You are good, and we don’t want you to leave.”

“Fuckin’ sent me away though,” Brock mumbled.

Bucky noticed again how worn down his mate looked. A night of booze and travel and no sleep, most likely. He needed to help him out, if they were going to have a proper conversation. 

“Listen Bones, I’m gonna go across the street and get us some supplies, okay? Then we can talk about this for real.”

Bucky got up and walked over to the door, but hesitated to leave Brock behind. “Will you stay here for me?”

Brock didn’t reply, and Bucky wasn’t even sure if he’d heard him.

“Bones?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Stay.”

Brock nodded, then let his head fall back against the wall and closed his eyes.

*

There was a 7-Eleven across from the motel, and Bucky dashed around the store, gathering up some essentials - Tylenol, water, snacks, anything he thought might help his mate feel better. He even got them a couple of coffees from the machine. The kind of burnt, watery stuff that Zemo wouldn’t touch, but neither himself nor Brock minded. After paying, he went outside and texted Zemo to let him know that he’d found Brock and that he was safe, before hurrying back across the street to the motel. 

By the time he returned, Bones seemed more awake. He’d gotten himself a glass of water, but was still sitting on the floor staring into space as if he was barely aware of his surroundings.

“Here,” Bucky said softly, approaching the Alpha gently and handing him the cup. “Got you a coffee. How’re you feeling?”

“Like shit,” Bones grunted, reluctantly accepting the drink. “Kinda didn’t think you’d come back.” 

“I’m here,” Bucky smiled sadly. “I’m not giving up on you.”

Brock rolled his eyes at that. “Oh yeah? And what if I’m giving up on me?”

“Well, I'm not gonna let you," Bucky said, sitting down on the bed. "We're gonna figure this out.”

They were both silent for a minute, and Bucky watched as Brock drank his coffee with a grimace. 

“Why are you doing this?" he growled, though there was little heat in it. He seemed exhausted. 

"Because I care about you,” Bucky said. “We were both really worried, Bones."

"You ain't fuckin worried about me. You're just stuck with me 'cause I fuckin' forced it on you.”

Bucky knew exactly what he meant. Neither of them had chosen to bond with Rumlow, they were all well aware of that fact. But they’d been over this in therapy before. Even if they’d bonded, they were under no obligation to be together now. They didn’t have to live together, they’d chosen to do that. So why was Brock bringing this up again?

“It kind of sounds like you’re coming up with reasons you think you shouldn’t be with us,” Bucky said eventually. 

“Well, there’s a lot of ‘em,” Brock shrugged. “Thought you’d be happy to hear ‘em.”

“Happy? I’m not happy, Bones-” Bucky broke off. The scent - Pierce’s cologne - was still hanging heavily in the room, and the thought that it might be on the bedsheets was making his skin crawl. He got up and went over to the window and forced opened the old latch, letting out the stench. 

“You know that smell, dontcha?”, he heard Rumlow say.

“Yeah,” Bucky said curtly, still with his back to him. He didn’t want Brock to see how much it was affecting him, because he’d just start with the self-blame again and that would get them nowhere. “I know that smell, but I don’t know what’s going on. Why do you have Pierce’s cologne? I know you had it back at the house because Zemo spilled it when he was going through your stuff.”

“Yeah, I’ve had it a long time,” Brock admitted. “Wasn’t actually his, but it’s the same kind.”

Bucky finally felt strong enough to face him, so he turned back to his mate and walked over to him. Aware that he was towering over Rumlow who was still on the floor, he sat down on the floor across from him. “So…why do you have it?”

Brock shrugged, keeping his eyes on the carpet. “I dunno, it’s just…I need it. You’re not gonna understand.”

“Try me.”

“No, you’re gonna freak out.”

Bucky frowned. “Why do you think that?”

“Because I know what he did to you!”, Brock snapped, and Bucky felt the tangled mess of pain in the bond flare sharply. “What the Baron said, about Round One of the Crossbones Project back in the ‘60s. How Pierce…how he…” Brock made a choked noise, then squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head from side to side. “What he did to you.”

Bucky swallowed, feeling his throat tightening and his breathing pick up even as he wanted to stay calm. “Oh. That.”

“Yeah.”

There was a long silence for a moment. “Look,” Bucky said eventually. “I know we never got around to talking about that, but it’s something I’m still dealing with.”

“You talk to the Baron about it?”

“Yeah, a little.”

“But not me.”

“I tried, okay?”, Bucky protested. “After I found out, I tried to talk but you didn’t want to. And then Zemo got sick, and there was never a good moment to bring it all up again.”

“So it’s my fault, is that what you’re saying?”

“Bones, can you please stop finding a way to blame yourself for everything? It’s not your fault we didn’t have a chance to talk, and it’s not your fault that happened to me in the first place. You weren’t even born then!”

Brock didn’t say anything, but he nodded slowly and seemed to be taking in what Bucky had said. Bucky hoped that was a sign they were moving in the right direction.

“Is that something you wanna talk about?” he asked.

Brock took another sip of his coffee. “Yeah. I think…I wanna know what you remember. And I know you’re gonna say it’s not, but I feel like it’s on me too. So I just gotta know.”

I guess we’re doing this. “Okay,” Bucky said. “But can you take a shower first? I can’t do this if you smell like him.”

Brock got to his feet a little unsteadily. “Yeah, I can do that. ’S the least I can do…”

“Thanks. See you after, then.”

“Uh huh.”

 *

While Brock was in the shower, Bucky pulled the sheets off the bed and dumped them in a laundry cart that had been left at the end of the motel hallway. Luckily, the staff at the front desk were happy to give him fresh ones. Bucky decided not to mention the broken lock until they checked out the next morning. He was tired, and there was no way he was driving all the way back to Cape Cod today. And Brock was in no state to drive. 

He might not even want to come back with you, he thought wearily, but he pushed that thought aside firmly. They were gonna talk, and get something to eat, and everything would be fine because it had to be. Because they all wanted this enough to work for it. Sleeping might be awkward. But if worse came to worse, he could see if they had another room available for him, or even sleep in the car. 

He’d just finished changing the sheets when Brock came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist. Bucky noticed that there was a fresh bruise on his side, but didn’t comment on it. Brock always got defensive about his injuries, always had. Bucky remembered that. Unless it was serious, it wasn’t worth bringing up because Rumlow would deal with it himself.

“I brought some things from home,” Bucky said, opening the duffel bag he’d packed that morning. “Here, I got you some clothes.”

“Thanks,” Rumlow said, reaching out to take the grey t-shirt, boxers and the worn pair of blue jeans he handed him. Then he went back into the bathroom to change.

Bucky sat on the edge of the bed, taking deep, steadying breaths. He didn’t want to talk about it, but he could do it. Probably. If he couldn’t then…well, they’d just have to figure this out some other way. He still didn’t understand why Rumlow wanted to talk about this now, but he figured that it must have something to do with him being his Pack Leader.

Brock came out of the bathroom, wearing the fresh clothes and towelling his hair dry. He looked a little better, or at least more present. He hung the towel on the door, and then took a seat in the armchair next to the open window. His black denim jacket was draped over the arm, and he reached into the pocket and fished out a cigarette which he lit and inhaled.

“So. What do you wanna know?” Bucky asked.

Brock exhaled a cloud of smoke. It mingled with his own musky scent, no longer covered by the acrid stink of the cologne. “What did you tell Zemo?”

“I told him I didn’t remember much, but that there was this guy who Winter thought of as ‘HYDRA Steve’.”

“The fuck?”

Bucky shrugged. “Coincidence. Pierce just really looked Steve when he was younger. And they were both Alphas. Winter didn’t always know the difference between them.”

“And you…remember what he did to you?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said. “Parts of it. Like it said in the Crossbones book; I was sedated, and there were other Alphas. Not just him.” 

Rumlow nodded tightly and exhaled smoke through his nose. “Yeah, I know.”

“But it’s him you care about right?”

Brock didn’t reply, just smoked in silence for a moment before saying. “I wanna know, if that’s the only time he did that to you. It’s been going ‘round my head ever since I found out.”

Bucky hadn’t been expecting that, and he wasn’t sure that Brock was going to like what he had to say. 

“The truth is, I don’t know. I had no idea they’d even tried to bond me back then, before Zemo showed us the book. I’ve kind of had to make peace with the fact that I’m probably never going to get all my memories back, and maybe that’s for the best.”

“So, you really don’t know? About Pierce?”

“He did it once: that was enough.”

Rumlow nodded. “Yeah, I figured you’d say something like that. Sorry.”

Bucky noticed that Brock was scratching the scars on his cheek with the hand not holding the cigarette. 

“I always knew there was something…off ‘bout how he treated you. I just couldn't see it, or I didn’t wanna see it. I dunno. It’s fucked up. I should have protected you.”

Bucky sighed. “It’s over now, Brock. No use thinking about what you should have done.”

Brock stood up and flicked the end of the cigarette out the window. “It’s not over.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, part of me wants to kill him all over again. But another part of me knows I couldn’t do it, even now.”

“He still has a hold over you, huh?”

Brock nodded. “Yeah. You could say that. He was my Pack Leader. There was a bunch of us in HYDRA, all Alphas. And he’d look after us, keep us in line, that sorta thing. He had certain, certain, you know…”

“Responsibilities?”

“Nah. Privileges, he called ‘em. Including mating rights - an’ mating rights over anyone bonded to one of his pack.”

“You’re telling me…” Bucky felt sick. He knew Pierce had raped him, but the fact that Brock thought Pierce had an ongoing ‘right’ to do that? That was fucked up in so many ways. 

“I don’t know if he ever did ,” Brock said quickly. “But he could’ve, and I couldn’t have done anything about it. It’s what I’ve been tryin’ to tell you. I couldn’t protect you, even though I wanted to.”

“What do you mean ‘couldn’t have done anything?’” Bucky snapped, his anger peaking. “You were the one who chose to obey him!”

Brock shook his head resignedly. “No. It don’t work like that.”

“What?”

“Zemo would get it. He’s an Omega, but it’s the same thing. What a Pack Leader says, goes. There’s no arguing, it just is. Unless you’re gonna challenge for leadership. That’s how it was in HYDRA."

Bucky thought about this for a moment. He knew that Brock cared about him, of course he did. Otherwise he wouldn’t be so messed up about all this. What he didn’t understand was how his mate could have carried on, knowing that that was a possibility. 

“How could you live with it?”, Bucky asked. “Knowing that he could’ve done whatever he wanted to me?” 

“I dunno,” Brock sighed. “I guess I just tried to believe he wouldn’t. No one was supposed to even touch you. I figured he’d know that it would mess with the programming, so I tried not to think about it.”

“...You’re right: I don’t get it,” Bucky said eventually. “But maybe I don’t have to. If you say you didn’t have a choice, then I believe you.”

“What, just like that?”

“Yeah, because I know you’re telling the truth. That’s how it was for you. I saw how protective you were over Zemo, and I didn’t understand it because I’d never seen you act like that before. But I know you couldn’t have behaved like that in HYDRA, because it would have been dangerous for both of us.”

Brock huffed, running a hand through his still damp hair. “Pretty much. Yeah.”

“Doesn’t explain why this room stinks of him, though.”

Brock looked uncomfortable, and crossed his arms in front of him. “It gets worse.”

“Tell me.”

Brock fixed his eyes on the floor and said in an uncharacteristically quiet voice, “Don’t think I can.”

“Please tell me,” Bucky said. “If you really can’t, it’s okay. But whatever it is, I’m not gonna be mad at you, I promise. I just want to understand.”

“Okay...you remember sometimes we couldn’t fuck because I’d knot up all tight before I even got inside you? 

“Um…I don’t remember. I know that if you knot first you can’t always get hard. Is that what you mean?”

“Yeah, it kind of…locks up. Point is, I knew we couldn’t mate because my Pack Leader didn’t give me permission. And he’d…he’d make me knot for him.”

Bucky felt his heart pounding in his chest, but he kept silent. He knew how important it was for Brock to get the words out in his own time.

“In front of the other Alphas,” Rumlow went on, eyes still fixed on the floor. “An’ he’d bite me while he had me pinned where everyone could see. An’ he’d… get me off. Because I needed his permission to drop it and cum. He’d trained me to knot on command. It felt like he owned me.”

“No one owns you, Brock,” Bucky said. “No one can .”

“Then why do I still get all knotted up and I can’t let go, huh? Why do I still have to spray that cologne and imagine he’s there, biting me, telling me to cum for him? He’s still my Pack Leader. Even though he’s dead.”

“Bones, that’s… I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

Brock frowned. “No, don’t you get it? I wanted it. I still get off on it now. Sometimes it’s the only thing that can make me calm down. Being a fucking bitch for that-” he shook his head. “- that bastard .”

“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t forced on you,” Bucky said eventually. “You were a victim-”

“No! I wasn’t the victim!” Brock snapped. “It felt…it felt right . And if I really wanted, I coulda walked away any time...”

“But..didn’t you just say ‘what a Pack Leader says, goes. There’s no arguing, it just is’?”

“I knew you wouldn’t get it,” Brock said with a sigh. He pulled on his jacket. “You got my phone? It’s getting late and I need to call the Baron.”

“Um…yeah, sure,” Bucky said, unsettled by this abrupt end to the conversation. He got up and rummaged around in the duffel bag until he found it and handed it to Brock.

Brock took it without a word and walked over to the door. “I need some air,” he said, but seeing the expression of alarm on Bucky’s face, Brock added. “I’ll come back, don’t worry.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

*

Outside, Brock paced up and down in the parking lot for a few minutes before finally pulling up the courage to call his mate. He felt his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for Zemo to pick up.

"Hey, Baron."

"Brock. I'm so relieved to hear your voice, moj tigric."

Zemo sounded tired, and Brock felt bad for disturbing him.

"Did I wake you?'

"Yes, but I needed to get up and have some dinner anyway."

"And you're okay to do that?"

"Yes, I'm feeling a lot better now. How are you? I was worried."

"I'm fine, you don't got to worry about me."

"I will as long as we're apart. We shouldn't be this far apart when our bond is still so new."

Brock knew Zemo was right, but he could barely feel anything through his end of the bond. If one of them disappeared, there's no way I'd be able to track them down through the bond, Brock thought sadly. They made me try that in HYDRA and it never worked, but Win could always find me. 

"I…" Brock realized he didn't know what to say. "Sorry I left. I didn't wanna leave you."

"I know you didn't. It's because James told you to go, wasn't it? You thought he meant that he wanted you to leave?"

"Yeah. But then he showed up here and he says he wants me to come back."

"Because he does, Brock. We both do."

I can't promise him anything, Brock thought. I don't wanna let him down again. If I can't work things out with Bucky…then it's not gonna work. 

"Just wanted to call an'...and say sorry for acting how I did," he said. "Wasn't right. I was totally out of control."

"I accept your apology. I'm also sorry for how I behaved."

"Nah, don't worry about it."

There was silence for a moment and then Brock heard Zemo say, " I wish you were both here with me now."

Yeah, me too, Brock thought. But when he tried to picture it, he found that couldn't. He couldn't protect Winter. He couldn't protect Zemo, so he didn't deserve to be with them. 

"What are you thinking, moj tigric?"

"You're better off without me."

"Why do you think that?"

"'cos I'm no good. I can't act like an Alpha, it doesn't work. I get possessive of you and want to fight Bucky. It was different with Win."

"Because he was like an Omega?"

"Yeah, exactly. Didn't make me all crazy."

"And you had a Pack Leader."

"Yeah. I dunno what to do, Zemo."

“What do you want?”

“I just wanna know everyone's safe. That no one’s gonna hurt you or Bucky: including me..”

"I don't think that's too much to ask, Brock. We both want that too."

“I jus’…I can’t be Pack Leader. It’s not gonna work. I’ll go crazy again like I did with you," Brock paused and inhaled a shaky breath. "I know I’m not….I'm not okay. I got a lot of shit to deal with. I jus' don’t wanna hurt no one."

When he next spoke he heard the waver in his voice. "But I’m an Alpha, and if I’m with you I gotta be Pack Leader, don’t I?”

"Why do you think that?"

Brock shrugged. “It’s just how things work. There’s got to be a hierarchy. Order. That’s how it works, otherwise it’s…like this."

"I mean, why do you think it has to be you? It could be Bucky. It could even be me, though I don't feel that that's right for us, somehow."

"The hell you talking about, Baron?"

"I know I don't often speak about the past," Zemo said. "But I was Pack Leader, at one time."

"What? How?"

"It doesn't matter your designation. It's more complicated, and I think part of you understands that."

Brock was still reeling from the revelation that his Omega had been a pack leader. "So what you're saying is it could be Bucky? In theory?"

"Yes, but it's up to him. Now, I must go and have something to eat. Have something nice yourself, won't you?"

"Yeah, we can order out  or something."

"Okay. Call me tomorrow morning?"

"Sure, Baron,” Brock sighed. “Talk tomorrow.”

I love you, moj tigric.”

“Night.” 

*

Chapter 16

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

*

When Brock came back into the room, Bucky was already in the bathroom taking a shower. He toed his shoes off, then flopped back onto the clean sheets his mate had put on the bed and closed his eyes. He was still exhausted from the night before. He’d slept all day yesterday, but it felt like it was more than that. He was so tired his bones hurt. The static of the bond kept flaring up loudly, and he couldn't keep it muted unless he had something to drink. He hadn't had a drop yet today, so that wasn't helping either.

But he'd promised Bucky he'd come right back after his call with Zemo, so he couldn't go back across the street and get something. Brock sighed wearily. He'd just wait for Bucky to finish showering, and then he'd tell him he was going over there. It's not like he had anything to hide.

He dug through the things that Bucky had brought, and took a couple of Tylenol with some water and opened a bag of chips. He didn't realize how hungry he was until he started eating - made sense, though, since he hadn't had anything since lunch the day before. 

Brock turned the TV on and flipped the channels to some cooking show while he ate. He couldn't cook for shit, but it was a good distraction. He liked watching the Baron make food when he was in the kitchen. Maybe he'd ask him to show him how to make those little meat pastries some time. It was such a mundane, domestic thought, that it caught Brock off guard. Part of him still couldn't believe that he was going home with Bucky tomorrow. He hadn't even consciously made the decision, but as soon as Bucky had said that they wanted him to come home, he knew how much he'd wanted that too. He just hadn't believed it was going to work. Maybe he'd never believed that. Maybe that was the problem: he didn't believe that he actually deserved to be with them. 

What is it they see in me? Brock thought, glancing at the bathroom door. Why did Bucky come all this way? Does he really think I'm worth it?

Brock felt like a mess. The only time he'd ever had his shit together had been in HYDRA, and even then he hadn't had to manage his own money, or even lived on his own. Everything was dictated to him by somebody else, and that was how he’d functioned his entire adult life.

Why did I ever think I could have been Pack Leader? , he thought. I can’t even take care of myself. No way I could look after both of them too. Zemo was right: just because I’m an Alpha, doesn’t mean I’m leadership material. 

Brock’s train of thought was interrupted when Bucky came out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam. He had on a pair of grey sweatpants he'd brought with him and he was towelling his hair dry. 

Brock's eyes traveled over his chest, lingering on the scars that spread across his left pectoral. They were faded, less pronounced than they had been. Brock had a sudden memory of massaging Winter after a mission. He'd used oil and worked carefully along the ridge of the shoulder blade, down to where the muscles got all tight and knotted. There was never the option of removing Winter’s arm back then because the wires were attached to muscles under the skin. Even though his mate was used to it, Brock knew that it caused him pain and he’d wanted to do everything in his power to ease that hurt. It was the least he could do for him back then. 

It didn’t hurt now. Bucky could easily remove the new prosthetic himself when he wanted to. But even though his new arm didn't cause his mate pain, Brock still wanted to take care of him and make sure he was alright. 

"Think I figured something out," Brock said slowly.

Bucky hung the towel up on the back of the door, and turned to face him. "Yeah?"

"I think I wanted to be Pack Leader so I could take care of both of you, like I took care of Winter.”

Bucky crossed the space between them and took a seat tentatively on the edge of the bed.

“But you don't need that,” Brock continued. “You're different now, and Zemo- well, he's been sick and sometimes he likes having a fuss made of him, but he doesn't need me to protect him."

Bucky seemed to think about this for a moment before he said slowly, "In HYDRA, we were in danger all the time, even when we were supposed to be safe. And now we are safe, but it doesn't always feel like it. It's hard to trust that sometimes."

"I know what PTSD is."

"I know you do. And I know what it feels like to be on edge all the time, just in case something goes down and you need to act. I'm guessing the Alpha stuff makes that worse, huh?"

Brock nodded. "Yeah, when I went out to the bakery, and came back and Zemo wasn't in bed? That was bad ."

"Because he was sick?", Bucky asked. 

"Uh-huh. I was half a step from freaking out since I couldn't be with him at the hospital. And I thought you were the one gettin’ between us because you smell like an Alpha. So it was like I was being replaced, or something."

Bucky sighed, running a hand through his wet hair. "That sounds exhausting."

"Pretty much."

There was a pause, before Bucky said, "You know you can ask for help if you need it, right?"

Brock shrugged. "Already go to therapy, don't I?"

"Yeah, but I mean for yourself,” Bucky insisted. “You have a lot of your own issues. Maybe you could find someone to help you with Alpha stuff?"

"I dunno…"

"Just think about it. You don't have to, but I know having someone to talk to who's not gonna judge helps me a lot."

"Maybe,” Brock conceded. “Can we get some real food now? I'm starving." 

*

They ordered pizza. Pepperoni, sausage and green pepper. They ate it on the bed, letting the cooking show run and half-watching it as they ate. They sat a little apart on either side of the double bed, not quite ready to be close to one another until they’d talked about everything they needed to. 

“This reminds me of somethin’,” Brock said, putting a pizza crust back into the box. “Remember the hotel?”

Bucky turned to look at him with a frown. “What hotel?”

“Eh, it was in Europe somewhere. Paris, maybe? There was some volcano thing, it shut down all the flights out. All the shitty hotels were bought up ‘cause no one could get out. So they put us up in this fancy place until they could get us extracted. We had room service, hot showers, nice sheets, and it was just you and me.”

Brock glanced at his mate to see if there was a flicker of recognition, but instead Bucky smiled back at him sadly. 

“I don’t remember,” he said apologetically. “But it sounds nice.”

Brock sighed. “Yeah, it was. Just had a whole night together, no interruptions, no shitty powdered food for you, no rushing. We had a bath together, ordered a bottle of wine and some ally-carte menu stuff. Listened to some music….it was nice.”

Bucky nodded slowly, his eyes far away as if picturing the scene Brock had described. Then something shifted, and his expression hardened. “I mostly remember the bad stuff,” he said. “I wish I remembered times like that too.”

“Yeah. Well, there weren’t many of ‘em.”

He smiled gently. “Good thing we’ve got time to make up for it now then, right?”

Brock didn’t respond. He wanted to believe that, but he still didn’t feel all that optimistic about the future. He didn’t know how they were gonna resolve all these issues he kept dragging up and bridge the gap that had opened up between them. He decided to change the subject.

"Haven't had pizza from this place in years," he said, taking another slice. "It's good, right?"

Bucky nodded. "Yeah, pretty good."

There was a pause, filled by the commentary of the TV chef who was pouring rum onto a steak to flambé the meat. I never went to the store for the booze , Brock thought. But he was unwilling to get up and go over there now.

"You miss DC?", Bucky asked.

Brock thought about this for a moment. "Sometimes, I guess. It beats New York. Never liked living there."

"That why you came back here?"

Brock shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "Nah, wasn't thinking about settlin' down or nothing. Just trying to get as far away from you both as possible. I just ended up here."

"Seems like a strange coincidence," Bucky said. "Considering what happened when we were both here last."

Brock rubbed the scars on his neck, in his mind seeing the Triskelion burning. The smoke, thick and choking and the molten metal of the building that collapsed around him - and his mate digging him out of the rubble.

He shrugged, pushing the memories away and grabbing another slice of pizza. “Didn’t mean to come back here. This is the last place I'd wanna be. I got into a fight on the bus and they kicked me out.”

“Were you drunk?”, Bucky asked. 

Brock nodded, not meeting his eye. “Yeah.”

“Bones," Bucky said carefully. "You know you have a problem with drinking, right?”

Brock sighed and slumped down in his seat. “I got problems with a lot of things. Just another one to add to the list."

Bucky picked up the remote and turned off the TV. The sudden silence felt weird.

“You know, I didn’t realize you’d think I was kicking you out,” he said. “I just needed you to go cool off so I could deal with Zemo.”

Get out . Bucky’s words still echoed in Brock’s mind. A direct order that had to be obeyed without question. 

“You know I didn’t mean it, right?”

“Yeah, I know that now. But it still…”

“Hurt?”

Brock nodded. “Uh-huh”.

Bucky sighed. “I’m sorry, Bones. None of this comes naturally to me. I’m a Beta, remember.”

“Then how come you’re trying to take my place as Pack Leader, huh?” Brock challenged. “ I’m the Alpha, it’s my job to be the one in charge of us.” He clenched his fists and let out a long exhale. “But I fucked it up ‘cos I don’t know how to do it right. The only Pack Leader I ever knew was Pierce, and…”

You really are Pierce's boy, huh? Bucky’s words from when he’d bonded to Zemo came back to Brock now. “I don’t… I can’t be like that.”

Bucky shook his head. “No. It doesn’t have to be that way,” he said firmly. “ You don’t have to be like that, I promise.

“I don’t…” Brock swallowed. “I don’t even want that. I just…I thought I had to.” His chest was tight and he felt his hands shaking with the effort of keeping himself together. If he fell apart now, he didn’t know what would happen, but at the same time he felt it. Piece by piece, everything he’d built up was coming down. 

“I don’t want to be like Pierce,” he said again. “I don’t want that. I’d never hurt you both, never. I’d rather die …”

“It’s okay,” Bucky said quickly. “We can fix this.”

Brock shook his head, trying to blink back the tears he felt pricking his eyes. “Nah. I’m done. Can’t do nothin’. I’m no good.”

“Then I can fix this,” Bucky insisted. “You did what I said before, right?”

Brock frowned at him. “Yeah, I guess.”

“You came all the way here because you thought I told you to leave.”

“Yeah?”

“So…that means I'm your Pack Leader right?”

Brock got to his feet quickly. “No, you’re not…I don’t…. you’re not like him.”

It wasn’t that there was an empty hole inside of him in the shape of a Pack Leader that Bucky could simply fill. They were mates, Bucky was already a part of him, and had been for a long time. No, Brock suddenly felt that it was him who was the wrong shape. He was the one who didn’t fit with this new person that Winter had become, and it was tearing them apart trying to fit together. 

Stop trying to be who Winter needed you to be. Who you had to be, to protect him.

“You wanna be Pack Leader?”, he growled, instinctively shifting into a fighting stance. 

*

Bucky felt a rush of hormones surging through his blood, Alpha instincts rising to the surface. 

This is how Winter had felt all the time; back then, everything was instinctive. Except that was Omega: this was Alpha.

“You wanna be Pack Leader?”, Brock growled.

"Well, yeah. I do," Bucky said, getting up off the bed and mirroring the Alpha's posturing. "I think I already am."

The rush of hormones was a little overwhelming, and it gave Brock an opening to tackle him to the ground. His mate held him there, body pressed flush against his own, panting heavily. Bucky pushed up against his weight, all that soft skin and hard muscles, just enough to feel his mate strain to keep him down. The Alpha’s eyes were dark, his pupils dilated. He bared his teeth at Bucky, and he heard a rumbling growl rise from his throat. 

An answering one rose from his own, and before Bucky could think about what he was doing, he was sitting up and sinking his teeth into Brock's neck. The Alpha yelped in surprise, but he didn't move from his position on top of him. So Bucky grabbed him by the waist and flipped them both over, rolling Brock onto his back.

Part of him expected his mate to give up and submit right there, but instead the Alpha started fighting him with everything he had, straining against him until he managed to wriggle free of the hold and get to his feet. 

Bucky was on his feet too, and now he was the one tackling Brock back onto the bed. This time he made sure to pin him down firmly beneath him, using not just his hands but pressing his full body down against him, hands locked on his upper arms and legs braced over his thighs, so that there was no way the Alpha could get free. Brock struggled against him, panting hard, still trying escape his hold. He growled at Bucky, baring his teeth as if to say how ferocious he was, but they both knew that he couldn't move.

Bucky felt a satisfied rumble rise in his chest, and he bent his head to Brock's neck, licking the bite he'd made.

Brock froze, and as Bucky continued grooming him he heard a small whine escape the Alpha's lips. He had stopped struggling against him, and now he was weakly pushing his hips up against Bucky, though he couldn't move much in this position. 

Bucky rocked his hips against him- hardly having to use any force to hold Brock down any more - he was still moving, but his struggles had become rhythmic, pressing up with his hips into Bucky’s. They were both getting hard, but it didn't seem to matter right now. All he cared about was making the Alpha submit; he wanted to feel his knot, wanted Brock to show him that he was the one in charge. To know that they both accepted it.

And soon enough, Brock moaned, pressing his hips up against him so that Bucky could feel the full, swollen bulb of his knot through his pants.

“Does…does that feel good?” Bucky panted.

“Yeah…” Bones gasped between heaving breaths. “Real good. Buck… I need it.”

“I can feel it,” Bucky replied - and he really could. For once, his bond with Brock was alive , clear and strong - and he could feel the desperate need in his mate, peaking in time with each thrust of his hips. "You feel so good, you're such a good boy…”

Brock moaned and let his neck fall back, exposing his neck in a submissive gesture as if to say what he couldn’t out loud, 'I'm yours, do what you want with me.'

Bucky leaned in and began kissing his neck, nipping with his teeth at the sensitive areas around his scent glands. Brock whined when he circled the spot and bucked his hips against him.

“Please," he begged, the sound quiet and hoarse. "Please, Buck…"

“You’re doing real good. You're being so good for me."

Bucky fumbled with his zipper, pulling his pants down over his hips. Brock seemed dazed and unable to move so he tugged his mate's down too, tearing the zipper in his eagerness. "Can I…?" Bucky hesitated, his fingers hooked into the waistband of Brock's boxer shorts. 

"Yeah," Brock said quickly, lifting his hips up so that Bucky could pull them down too. 

His cock was fully erect, and there was precum leaking from the head, sliding down the shaft. On the underside at the base was the knot, swollen up for him. Bucky wrapped a hand gently around his mate's cock, then took a few seconds to slide down the bed, push himself up in between his mate’s spread legs, and leaned in and gently licked his mate's knot. 

Brock's reaction was instantaneous, moaning loudly, "Oh fuck, please…" pushing his hips up to get more of the sensation. Bucky licked at him again, no longer teasing, but mouthing and sucking, tenderly taking first one side of the knot and then the other side into his mouth. 

He could feel his mate's pleasure thrumming through the bond now. It was almost overwhelming, and left his Alpha's head completely empty except for the sensation. 

He's so trusting , Bucky thought. Just giving me the most vulnerable part of his body.  

Bucky felt the soft, swollen skin throbbing under his tongue, pulsing very slightly in response to the stimulation he was giving it. He felt the cock in his hand spilling more precum over his fist and Bucky started to move his hand in time with the pulsing of his mate's knot. 

The noise Brock made was pure need and desperation rising up from his core and when Bucky looked up into his mate's eyes, they were dark and desperately wanting. 

Bucky moved back slightly, taking in the way Brock was spread out under him, then he slid two fingers between Brock’s balls and the base of his knot. 

"Such a good boy," he praised. 

Brock whined open-mouthed as Bucky gently lifted his fingers, pulling very slightly. Brock squirmed, his eyes fluttering closed. He felt suddenly very still and peaceful in the bond, and he knew his Alpha was calmly submitting and accepting what was happening to him. He held his mate like this for a moment, before Brock opened his eyes and smiled up at him. 

Bucky released him, and then he was on top of him kissing him, slowly at first but as Brock opened to him, the kiss deepened. He felt so close to him, like he might be able to cum just from this alone…

Bucky knelt up, sliding his own boxers off. His cock stood out from his body, fully hard and as he wrapped his hand around it and gave it a light stroke, a wave of pleasure coursed through him and precum spilled from the end onto Brock's abs. 

When he lay back down on top of him, Brock wrapped his legs around his waist, pressing his cock against him 

“Does that feel good?” Bucky asked, rocking against him, as their cocks pressed together and they began to build a steady rhythm. 

"Fuck yes, so good," Brock moaned. Bucky captured his mouth again, licking into his lips and devouring his mouth.

Brock opened for him, giving him everything until they became just breath and body and heat, and Bucky felt his mate all around him, feeling through the bond how good it was for his mate to just let go, let go of everything and just let it happen. Bucky could feel his mate's pleasure cresting as their pace increased, he was so close, so close…

“Are you gonna cum?”, Bucky panted against his lips. 

“I wanna…" Brock begged. "I wanna cum so bad for you, Bucky, please!"

"I know you want to," Bucky said, kissing his lips, his neck. "You've done so well for me."

"Please…"

"Cum for me," Bucky commanded, biting down on his neck.

Instantly, Brock’s knot released, and he gasped as he spilled between them. It was so much pleasure, so much pure release that it pulled Bucky over the edge and he came, rocking against his mate. 

"I love you," Bucky panted, collapsing on top of his mate. "So, so much. I never want to be apart from you again."

Brock seemed unable to talk, as if he was beyond words, but he quietly nuzzled into his Bucky, inhaling his scent. 

*

Some time later, Bucky felt a warm humming sensation in the bond, and then the uneven rumble of his mate’s purr coming from his chest. They were still lying in each other's arms, unwilling to move even to get cleaned up. 

Bucky was grooming the bite he’d made on his mate’s neck, and already the wound was beginning to heal. He felt strangely protective of Brock right now, as if he had a duty to look out for him.

"Pierce never would have groomed me, after a bite," Brock said.

Bucky looked at him, suddenly filled with concern. "Was that…did I do it wrong?"

"No….I think it was right,” Brock said slowly. “I just didn't know that before you did it. He used to pin us on our front so there’d be no way to show we were submitting. You couldn’t turn over or move, so you’d just have to go limp and let it happen.”

“Let what happen?”

“Whatever he wanted. Usually he’d bite really hard right here,” Brock said, rubbing the back of his neck. “You remember I used to have a scar here?”

“Uh…yeah, I think so.” Bucky frowned. His mate’s words had sparked a memory, and not a good one. “I remember…Winter got upset because he thought he'd done that to you."

Brock sighed. “Yeah, that happened a lot, ‘cos he’d forget and try to groom it. It’s gone now, see?”

He turned onto his side and Bucky leaned in, tracing the shiny pink of the burn scar on the back of his mate’s neck. “Yeah, there’s nothing here.”

“The one good thing about getting burned. Means I’m free of him.”

Bucky couldn’t help snuggling up against him, putting his arm around his mate and holding him close as they drifted off to sleep.

*

Bucky was sleepily curled around Brock, and stirred when he felt a presence at his back. He knew that it was his other mate from his sweet scent and the sound of his breathing.

"Zemo?"

"Mmm. Yes. James, I'm here."

Bucky turned over to face him, but he couldn't see clearly, only feel the weight of Zemo's body and the warmth of him there in the bed beside them.

"Am I dreaming?"

He could almost hear Zemo smile as he murmured, "Most likely."

Bucky felt the bond as a warm, glowing thread that connected them. You could never be lost, Bucky thought, when you had that to draw you back to the one you loved. 

"I felt it," Zemo said, tracing a pattern on Bucky's chest with the tips of his fingers. "He's calm now."

"Yes," Bucky replied, reaching up to kiss his mate's lips. Soft, opening for him, promising more…."I wish you were really here."

Zemo nodded, moving over to kiss Brock on the shoulder, and then on the claiming bite that Bucky had given him. "I wish that he could feel me. Bring him home, James."

"I will."

*

Their ride home the next day went well. The early morning sky was clear, the roads almost empty - it felt like the universe itself wanted the three of them back together as soon as possible. Bucky drove, rolling the window down to enjoy the crisp, fall air. 

As they drove, Bones simply gazed at his mate, watching the way the muscles in his arms moved as he drove,the soft expression of concentration on his face. Their bond was wavering, but it was still much stronger than he’d ever felt before last night.

His knot, however, seemed to have developed a will of its own. He’d woken up in Bucky’s arms that night with it flaring against his mate’s leg, so firm and tight it almost ached. Then, again, when they got up, he’d felt that familiar swelling sensation in his boxers, and he was knotting again.

It would have been embarrassing, losing control of his body to someone else like this. But this wasn’t anyone else. This was Bucky . Bones almost felt proud of how his body was reacting to his new Pack Leader. As he continued to watch him, once again his knot began to bulge, and he palmed it through his clothes hesitantly. As good and right as this felt… there had to be something more to his submission.

He rubbed the spot on his neck that used to be scarred by Pierce’s teeth. Submission wasn’t just cuddles and sex and knotting. He wondered what his new Pack Leader might want from him, what he’d have to give in order to stay part of his new pack. He’d do pretty much anything to have this, and Bucky probably knew that…

But he could figure that out later. Right now, there was something he needed to do.

“Wait,” Bones said suddenly as they reached the eastern side of the Theodore Roosevelt Memorial Bridge. “Can you turn off here?”

“You wanna see the Lincoln Memorial?” Bucky joked, but turned off as his mate had requested.

“No, jus’... down here, pull over a sec.” 

There was a little turnoff alongside the river where Bucky stopped. It was lined with trees, their leaves turning orange as summer drew to a close. Bones got out and rummaged around in the trunk for a moment, and then walked over to the edge of the river. Cautiously, Bucky got out too and followed him over.

“What are you doing?”

“Gettin’ rid of something I don’t want no more,” Bones replied, then drew his arm back and flung what he was holding as far as he could. Bucky caught sight of the glass bottle glinting in the morning sunlight as it arced through the air, then it vanished with a splash into the depths of the Potomac.

They stood together quietly for a moment. Through their bond, Bucky could feel the usual static from his mate, but he was transmitting something else too. Hope.

“Let’s go,” Rumlow said, giving Bucky a reassuring pat on the back.

*

“I know we wanna get home to Zemo soon,” Bucky said after a couple more hours on the road. “But I really need to get some food. Is there somewhere nearby that makes a good breakfast?”

“I’ll check.” Bones pulled out his phone, and smiled to see Zemo had sent him a message. It was just a simple kiss, but it still warmed his heart. He switched to the maps app. “Okay, so off this junction ahead - it’s a short drive - but there’s a place that does grits, omelettes, all that kinda stuff."

“Great, direct me.”

*

As they finished up their breakfast a little while later, Bucky offered his mate a warm smile. “How are you finding it?”

Brock looked up from his plate. “Huh?”

“You know.” Bucky tapped the side of his head gently, then carefully reached out through their bond. Usually, that would have made Rumlow react - he’d fight to close himself off, ensuring there was hardly any way to connect with him. If Winter had tried it, then Brock would have chastised him, or even punished him. But in the past few hours, he’d been open, accepting… warm , even.

“Uh, yeah,” he replied, staring down at his empty plate. “I don’t know why. But it hurts less now. Sometimes it makes me feel all…” He made a spinning motion with his hands. “Is this what it feels like all the time, for you an’ the Baron?”

“Honestly,” Bucky spoke carefully. “With us it’s… like this, but stronger. I can almost feel like he’s with me, even when we’re not physically together.”

“Oh." Bones said thoughtfully, without looking up. “Well. Don’t know how much I want that.”

“Let’s take it slow," Bucky said gently, reaching for Bones like he was a frightened wild animal. Rumlow took a deep breath and closed his eyes. 

I’m good , he tried to say. I’m loyal. I’m yours. I’m gonna do what you tell me.

Bucky put his mug down. “You don’t need to force it. Just relax. And then I’ll feel what you need me to feel.”

“I… I don’t wanna,” Brock shook his head, still unable to meet Bucky’s eyes. “Not now.”

“Okay.” Bucky leaned back, and tried to disengage from their bond as much as he could. “One step at a time, yeah?” 

“Yeah," Brock said, getting up. "I’m gonna go piss.”

As Bucky watched him leave, he thought about their fragile, tenuous bond.

Why wouldn’t he want to let me in? he wondered, before realizing that he already knew the answer. He’s scared of what I’ll find there.

*

They kissed in the parking lot before they got into the car, and that made Bones’s knot inflate again. He cursed as he got into the passenger seat, carefully spreading his legs and easing himself down to protect the sensitive bulb. 

“That’s happening to you a lot, isn’t it?” Bucky asked softly.

“Yeah," Brock grunted. "Alpha thing.”

“Submission knotting, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So it’s because I’m your Pack Leader now?”

“Guess so.”

Bucky remembered their therapy session, where they talked about Brock’s fling with Steve. How when he'd told them, he'd seemed so ashamed of submitting to the other Alpha.

“You’re gonna have to help me understand what you need, Bones," he said. "I want to be a good Pack Leader for you, okay?”

“Sure," Brock said, shifting in his seat.

Bucky started the car, and got them back on the road in comfortable silence. After a while he asked, "Does it feel like when you’re knotted to one of us?”

“Nah. When I’m knotted to someone, I feel like I can protect us both. I feel strong and like I can keep us safe. But when I’m sub-knotting, it’s like…" 

Bucky felt something rise up in the bond suddenly - shame.

"...like I’m giving that up to someone else. Like I’m saying you know what’s best, I’ll sit back and wait for orders.”

“Right.”

“It’s not always sexual. Like now, I’m not hard. But it can be. An’ I can’t get off when I’m knotted, it locks everything up too tight. I gotta wait until it stops by itself, but that can take a long time. Or until my Pack Lea- I mean, you tell me it’s okay to let go.”

“Oh. Well, then… You don’t have to knot for me right now, Bones. You’ve done good.”

Bones let out a deep sigh and relaxed back into his seat, the throbbing in his pants finally releasing. He enjoyed the soft ache in his deflated knot, and the rush of hormones to his brain rewarding his submission.

“‘Course, it works the other way too,” he said after a moment.

“Huh?”

“You can tell me to knot, and I will. I'd probably get hard too, if you told me to. I'd just have to wait until you let me release it.”

Bucky glanced at Bones, then back to the road. The idea of the alpha next to him instinctively ceding control over such an intimate part of himself filled him with a mix of curiosity and arousal. He was tempted to try it, to tell Bones to knot hard and firm and not drop it until they got home, feel his desperation growing through their bond, knowing he couldn’t do anything about it until Bucky finally released him from it…

… but he didn’t. Instead, he patted Brock’s knee. “Let’s work on making you feel safe first, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Bones sighed. "Okay."

And the only emotion Bucky felt above the static, for a fraction of a second, was disappointment.

*

As they got closer to home, Bucky felt himself growing more and more connected to Zemo. But his bond with their other mate wasn’t lively or excited - no, it was soft, warm, relaxed - he must be sleeping.

“I know you wanna see Zemo soon,” Bucky said as they pulled onto their driveway. “But he’s asleep now, and I need you to leave him alone.”

Bones snorted and unbuckled his seatbelt. “He’s had enough sleep now, I gotta see him-”

Bucky got out of the car and followed him up towards the house. Before Brock could reach the front door, Bucky came up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "No," he said firmly. "Zemo needs to rest so that he can get better."

“Yeah, and I’m gonna help him get better!” Bones growled.

Not this again, Bucky thought. After all they’d been though, it suddenly felt like they were right back at square one. “Bones, come on -”

“You think you know what’s best for him?”

“Yes -” Bucky started to argue. But then, he felt something. It wasn’t in their bond. It was something even deeper than that, something rising up from within him. Instinct. “Get down," he ordered, speaking firmly, leaving no room for disobedience.

And it was like a switch suddenly flicked in Rumlow. One moment he was growling in Bucky’s face, and the next he was sinking to his knees, silent, his brown eyes wide and gazing back up at Bucky like he was waiting for his next instruction.

“Now, we’re gonna go inside,” he said, watching Bones’s face carefully. “And you are going to leave Zemo to sleep. Do you understand me?”

“Yes si-… Bucky,” he swallowed.

“You’re going to listen to me. You’re gonna do what I ask.”

“Yeah.”

“Good boy.” Bucky bent down, and for a second Rumlow froze, like he thought Bucky was going to hurt him. But instead, Bucky gently kissed his cheek, and stroked his flesh hand along the knelt man’s jawline. As Bucky stood up, he saw Brock’s eyelids flutter, and he looked unfocused, dreamy.

“Want me to…”

“What?”

“I dunno… blow you?”

What?" Bucky straightened up suddenly. Rumlow’s gaze was soft, his lips parted, and he trailed his hands up to Bucky’s hips.

Would it be so wrong? Yes, they were outside, but their house was secluded, it was unlikely anyone would see them. And he knew that he could just tell Bones to do it, and he’d take him in his hot, wet mouth, obediently swallowing him down, desperate and needy…the power of that was overwhelming. His cock stirred a little as Brock’s fingers found his belt, and began to unbuckle it…

“No,” Bucky shook his head, pushing the thoughts aside as he pushed Rumlow’s hands away. It would be cruel to take advantage of his mate’s submission like this, wouldn't it? That wasn't right…

Rumlow shook his head. “Sorry, dunno what I was thinkin’...thought maybe I had to prove I was gonna…”

“It’s okay.” Bucky offered him a hand, and Rumlow took it gratefully and got to his feet. “Let’s get inside. Remember what I told you? You’re gonna be good for me?”

“Yep.”

Bucky opened the door and let Rumlow in ahead of him. When Brock dropped his lockbox down on the living room rug and stretched a little, working some kinks out of his back, Bucky noticed once again the bulge in his Alpha’s pants. 

“Bones, did Pierce make you do… that when you submitted for him?”

“Nah," Rumlow said, walking past him to the living room. Bucky followed him, taking a seat next to him on the couch.

“He never made me do anything to him," Brock said eventually. "I don’t even think he was into guys. But he did stuff to us. Made us do it to ourselves. I guess it was the power. He wanted to see us lose control, give it all over to him.”

“I’m not gonna be like that, I promise,” Bucky said quickly. “You don’t ever have to do anything you don’t want to, okay? I don’t want you to feel like you have to prove anything to me."

Brock nodded, and flicked on the TV after hunting around for the remote. Bucky assumed that was the end of the conversation, and he was about to go up and check on Zemo when Brock said, “But what if I wanna, though?”

“Huh?” Bucky turned back to his mate. “You mean, you want to?”

“Not to prove nothin’,” Brock said. “But…I think it would make me feel good.” As he said the words, Bucky noticed that dreamy, submissive expression come over his face again. It was irresistible. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Can I?”

Bucky felt his cock hardening at the thought of Bones kneeling in front of him, taking his cock in his mouth while he praised him…

“Okay.”

Instantly, Rumlow sank to his knees obediently, pawing at Bucky’s belt. 

“Slow down, it’s okay,” Bucky reassured him. “There’s no rush.”

But Brock barely seemed to hear him. He was desperate, his mouth already open a little as he eased down Bucky’s pants. When he lunged forward to take him in his mouth, Bucky grabbed him by the nape.

“I said slow down. Listen to me like a good boy.”

Bones leaned back on his haunches and looked up to meet Bucky’s gaze. The static of their bond crackled with anticipation. 

“Good boy. Wait.” 

Bucky finished taking off his jeans and underwear, then lazily stroked himself. Bones watched, licking his lips as a bead of precum slipped down his Pack Leader’s shaft and over his metal fingers. He wanted to jump forward, swallow it down, give his mate the pleasure he deserved - but he’d been told to wait.

He kind of liked making Bones wait while he was so eager, Bucky realized. He wanted to take it slow. He wasn’t sure that Bones had ever actually blown him before. He certainly couldn’t remember it ever happening. But now, his Alpha was staring at him with those deep brown eyes, pleading with him…

In his own pants, Rumlow’s cock was hard and straining - and as his Pack Leader commanded him to wait , he felt that familiar, warm sensation he knew so well - his knot inflating. In just a few seconds it was heavy and tight, already throbbing as it gently but firmly locked him up.

I can’t mate, see? You’re in charge , his body was trying to tell Bucky. I can’t cum until you let me. I can’t even penetrate without your permission now . Brock closed his eyes for a moment as that chemical cocktail hit his brain; reward and submission, his bond humming with his Pack Leader’s approval. It had never felt this good before.

“Come on, now,” Bucky gently guided him forward with a hand cupped around the back of his head, and Bones happily accepted. He took the head of Bucky’s dick into his mouth, and then started working his way down the shaft… 

“Slowly, remember?” Bucky tugged his head back slightly. “Slowly.”

His knot pulsed, a reminder from his own body to obey. Slowly, he licked Bucky’s cock from balls to slit, then softly took him inside his mouth again, but careful this time, using one hand to steady himself on Bucky’s knee and the other supporting the heavy knot in his pants.

“Oh, that’s right. That’s good ,” Bucky moaned, stroking Bones’s hair as the Alpha began to take him deeper. “Good boy. Oh god, Bones… Fuck.”

The hormone rush to Brock’s brain was getting stronger. My Pack Leader likes it. I’m a good boy. I’m doing good . He was barely even aware of his knot now, which throbbed in time with the strokes of his mouth over Bucky’s cock. Bucky’s pleasure was his now - all that mattered was making sure his Pack Leader was happy, fulfilled, satisfied .

Bucky gasped, grabbing Brock’s hair and crying out as he came, pushing into his desperate Alpha’s mouth. Bones swallowed it all down, eager and hungry, needing him to know just how obedient and good he was. 

“Fuck, Bones, that was incredible,” Bucky panted. “The bond, I’ve never felt so-” 

Rumlow sat back and spread his knees apart with a whine. He knew he was being praised, could hear the tenderness in his Pack Leader’s voice. But now he was painfully aware of his heavy, firm knot, and if his Pack Leader really wanted to reward him, then...

“Oh, right,” Bucky grinned. “Okay, Bones. I’m gonna let you cum. But…can I see it first?”

Rumlow squirmed enough to tug his pants down and pull his impressive knot out of his pants. Having it on display like this felt so vulnerable. He knew only Bucky could see it, but there was something so…helpless about having it exposed. It wasn’t just his secret any more. 

Bucky climbed off the sofa and knelt in front of Bones, gazing at it. “Can I touch it?”

“Uh-huh.”

So carefully, Bucky slid his flesh hand along Brock’s stomach, then wrapped his fingers around the swelling. Two of those fingers slipped under the knot, and pressed lightly into the soft, giving underside. “Good boy.”

Brock whined and leaned against Bucky, weakly humping into his hand as his Pack Leader explored his body. He wasn’t sure how much he could take, how much further he could be teased and pleasured and praised before he lost his mind. “Please,” he panted. “Please….”

“Alright,” Bucky nuzzled into Brock’s neck, lightly nipping at his neck. “Cum for me, Bones. Cum for me now.”

Brock’s vision turned to sparks as his knot released, and he came long and hard through Bucky’s fingers. He needed him, he needed his Pack Leader, and he clung to him as his climax rolled through his body and left him whining and trembling.

“Buck… Bucky…” Brock gasped as he regained control of himself. “Fuck, that was so good. I… I really- ”

“You’re back!” 

The two men turned to see Zemo at the bottom of the stairs. His hair was mussed and he was wearing only a bathrobe. He looked as if he’d just woken up.

Brock collapsed back, leaning against the sofa. “Hey Baron,” he panted. 

Zemo came over to them and sat down on the floor between them. “So you’ve made up then, I see.”

“Uh-huh.”

Bucky watched as Zemo kissed Brock and then leaned into his neck to inhale his scent.

“I missed you,” he murmured, nuzzling against him. 

“Not still mad at me?”

“No, moj tigric . Not at all.”

Zemo glanced at Bucky who was cleaning himself up, “You’re Pack Leader?”

“Yeah, looks like it,” Bucky said. “Can’t say I totally get it yet, but I’ll figure it out.”

Zemo laughed. “Our therapist is going to have a field day next week.”

“Buck says I gotta get a therapist too,” Brock grumbled.

“Hey, only if you want to. I’m not making you.”

“Hm.”

Zemo got up onto the sofa, pulling their Alpha up with him. Bucky joined them, snuggling up against both his mates and inhaling their scents. He and Brock both needed showers, but it was so calm and peaceful to just sit here together. Especially after everything they’d been through. He heard Zemo purring, followed by Brock’s rumbling chuff, and the sound made him smile. 

He hoped that it could stay this way forever. 

*

Notes:

This is the end of the fic, but we are already working on the next one in the series! It might be a few weeks before the next one starts coming out because we have to plan it, so subscribe to the series to get notified when the next fic drops.

In the meantime, thank you for reading :)

Notes:

Thanks for reading, let me know what you think!