Chapter Text
*
Brock woke up in his new bed. He yawned and stretched contentedly. He must have gotten at least eight hours. Not the thick, heavy, alcohol-induced sleep he was so used to. No, instead he felt relaxed and properly rested. Zemo was still asleep with his back to him, and Bucky was on the Omega's other side, his arm slung over him protectively. Both of them were sleeping peacefully and Brock let out a little chuff of contentment. He couldn't believe that he actually got to hold his mates at night, and kiss them and touch him and scent them. It felt like a dream. One he'd barely even allowed himself to fantasize about when they'd been in HYDRA.
Back then, all he could do was reassure Winter and keep him steady and focused on the mission with the promise of a reward after it was all over. Now it was Bucky who took care of both of them. He was their Pack Leader, and he made sure that both of them were safe. Brock had never expected his life would look like this, living with two mates- one of whom was an Omega, but he was happier than he'd ever thought was possible. It was so much more than he deserved.
Brock nuzzled up against the Baron, burying his head in the sweet scent from the glands on his neck. He tasted salt on his skin and the smell of sex from the night before, and without even thinking about it he began grooming his mate enthusiastically.
Zemo let out a little contented noise and wriggled back against him. "Are you awake?", he murmured, his Sokovian accent thick from sleep.
"Mm. You?"
"Well, now I am," Zemo sighed, turning over to look at Brock. He was frowning, but his usually neat hair was adorably mussed up and it just made him look cute.
"Grumpy, Baron?", Brock grinned, placing a hand on his waist.
Zemo huffed in response and snuggled up against him. "Did you sleep well?"
"Yeah, bed’s great. Glad I can finally sleep down here."
"You really like the room?", Zemo asked.
When they’d first moved into the house, the basement had been just one large space with a small bathroom in the corner. But once they’d cleared out the junk, they’d decided to construct a wall to divide the space in two. One half for Brock to use as a bedroom, the other for a home gym. While the gym was still a work in progress, they’d created a bedroom especially suited to their Alpha’s needs.
They’d painted the concrete floor a charcoal grey to match the exposed brick, which gave it an industrial feel that was distinct from the rest of the house. There was a large bed, a matching side table and dresser, a desk with a computer and a sitting area with a leather couch. A TV on the wall with all of Rumlow’s DVDs and games stored underneath completed the space. It had a cozy feel, with low lighting and a large rug that softened the feel of the room.
"Yeah, it's perfect," Brock said. "I like having my own space."
Zemo reached up to lightly trace his finger’s along Brock’s jaw. “You didn't mind us sleeping with you last night?"
Brock grinned. "Nah, I wanted to get your scent on everything."
“You can keep some clothes with my scent on, if you like."
"Or maybe I can just keep you in my bed, get your scent all over the sheets,” Rumlow growled, climbing on top of his mate and kissing him
Zemo laughed, kissing him back enthusiastically. He wrapped his legs around Brock’s waist as his mate rolled his hips against him.
The movement jostled Bucky, who opened his eyes and stretched, arching his back. "Mornin".
"Are you sleepy, James?", Zemo asked, reaching out to touch him.
"Not really. Slept pretty good last night, for once.”
He leaned over and kissed Zemo's cheek, and then Brock's. "I'm gonna go make breakfast. You guys should start getting ready before you get distracted. Don't wanna be late for the doc."
Zemo noticed that Brock’s eyes followed Bucky intently as he pulled on a pair of sweatpants and headed upstairs.
With a huff, Brock pulled back from him and sat on the edge of the bed. Zemo could tell by his scent that he was aroused, so he moved in close and kissed him softly on the lips. Then he pulled back ever so slightly, waiting for his Alpha’s invitation. Brock froze, hesitating for a moment before giving into him with a whine. But it only lasted for a moment, before Brock moved away and stood up. “We can’t. Bucky’s right, gotta get going.”
“Come, moj tigric ,” Zemo purred, placing his hands on Brock’s hips. Slowly, he smoothed his hands down his thighs, deliberately ignoring the hard cock that was right in front of him.
Brock looked up at the ceiling, and Zemo saw his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Pack Leader says so.”
“I don’t think he meant it like that.”
Brock reached down and caught Zemo by the wrists and held them. “Can’t do it, Baron.”
Zemo sighed, laying back on the bed amidst the tangled covers. “Fine. As you wish.”
His own cock was flushed and hard, and as he ran his hand over it he revelled in the feeling of his Alpha’s eyes on him, wanting him. “I’ll just take care of myself, then.”
Brock watched as the Baron closed his eyes, wrapping a hand around his cock as he began to stroke himself. Brock felt the blood rushing to the base of his cock as his knot began to swell. He knew that he couldn’t have the Omega. His Pack Leader had forbidden it. He gasped as he felt his hard cock becoming over-sensitive to the point where he knew he would barely be able to touch it, while his knot throbbed and ached for relief.
Zemo was never quiet, and he made no effort to stifle the moans that slipped from between his lips. Brock shivered as he felt the steady pulse of his mate’s pleasure building through their bond. He couldn’t block it out, it was all around him, inside him, growing in intensity…
With a frustrated whine, he ducked into the bathroom, clutching his knot.
He needed a cold shower after that!
*
Bucky was frying sausages when Brock came into the kitchen. He’d fed Alpine, who’d been meowing insistently next to the cupboard where they kept her food. She dived inside before he could stop her, but as soon as he grabbed the packet she jumped out again and quickly followed him over to her bowl.
He heard footsteps on the stairs and then the sound of the basement door opening. A few moments later, Brock came into the kitchen wearing jeans and a black sweatshirt, brushing wet hair out of his eyes.
"Hey, you want some of these?", Bucky asked, gesturing to the pan.
"Nah." Brock shook his head, opening one of the cupboards.
Bucky watched as he took out the juicer and a tall glass. "You making one of your protein shakes?"
"Yep,” Brock said, grabbing the packet of protein powder. Bucky carried on cooking while his mate threw a bunch of other ingredients in and blended them up. When he was done, he poured the shake into a glass and took a swig.
"You want some?", Brock asked, offering him the glass.
Bucky took one look at the pulpy, beige liquid and felt his stomach clench. "Sorry. Liquid food is a no-go.”
Brock's face fell. "'Cos of what HYDRA made you eat?”
Bucky nodded, grabbing some plates for the food. "Yeah, but it's not a big deal. It’s not like it’s something I wanna eat.” He hesitated, before saying, “Speaking of HYDRA stuff, you gonna be okay seeing the doc today?"
Brock shrugged, taking a swig of his breakfast shake. "I guess. The guy's alright, and we already got the tests done last time."
"I know, but being in there makes you nervous,” Bucky said. “It’s the same for me with anything medical. Besides, we don’t know what the test results are gonna be."
"Baron's gonna be fine," Brock mumbled.
"Yeah, he probably will be," Bucky agreed. "But I know it’s on his mind, and we gotta be there for him no matter what, okay?'
"Yeah, okay,” Brock said, taking a seat on one of the stools at the island counter. Bucky noticed that he winced slightly and shifted in his seat.
“Hey, you alright?”, Bucky asked. Without thinking about it, he felt for his mate through his bond like he would with Zemo, before he lost the thread of it and remembered that he couldn’t do that with Brock.
Brock looked down at the counter, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah, it’s not a big deal.”
“Tell me,” Bucky commanded.
“Knotting,” Brock mumbled in embarrassment, still not looking at him.
“Huh. Why?”
“Uh…because you said I couldn’t mate with Zemo and he wanted to, so it just kind of happened.”
“What? I never said that.”
“You said we should get going.”
“That wasn’t an order, I didn’t know you’d knot because of that .”
Brock shrugged. “Can’t control it. An’ it wouldn’t release after I took a shower.”
“Do you want me to…?”, Bucky asked, coming around to him and laying a hand on his shoulder.
Brock nodded. “Yeah.”
“Okay,” Bucky said, “You’re a good boy, so you can go ahead and release for me.”
Brock let out a low moan of relief, his mouth falling open. Bucky felt a shiver of arousal go through him, and only resisted the urge to drag his mate back downstairs because Zemo came into the room.
It was obvious that he understood the situation from the way he looked between the two of them, but he didn’t comment on it. Bucky turned his attention to him, feeling an anxious buzzing sensation in the bond that showed nowhere on Zemo’s face as he calmly brewed his morning tea.
“You okay?”
Zemo glanced over his shoulder. “Hmm? Oh, fine James.”
“Sure?”
Bucky felt through the bond, before a wall came up and prevented him from going any further.
“I’m sure. I’m just thinking about the appointment.”
*
Following his discharge from the hospital, Zemo had been unsatisfied with the answers given to him about his sudden heat sickness. He refused to accept that he was now required to take suppressants for the rest of his life, especially if he didn’t know what had caused the problem in the first place. He’d needed more information, so he’d found a doctor in Boston that specialized in cyclo health care, and requested further tests. That was why they had this appointment today; to discuss the results, and what they might mean.
As he sat in front of the desk waiting for the results, Zemo was, admittedly, more than a little concerned. Far more than he’d let Brock, or even James, realize. He was able to shield his thoughts from his mates when he put his mind to it, something he’d learned after being bonded to Heike for so long. It was necessary sometimes, for the sake of privacy. But more to the point, he didn’t want to cause his mates concern unduly. Not until he knew more about the state of his health.
They were the first appointment of the day, and the doctor was just logging on to view their test results.
“Sorry it’s taking so long,” he said apologetically. “The computers have been slow since we started using the new system last week.”
“That’s quite alright,” Zemo replied, “Just let us know as soon as you can.”
The doctor nodded at him. The man’s name was De Silva and from his accent Zemo could tell that he was Portuguese. Though he hadn’t advertised it, Zemo had been able to tell when they first walked into his office that he was a bonded Beta with an Alpha alignment. Zemo’s eyes fell on the picture of the woman and the twin girls on his desk were his family, a happy picture of family life. She must be his Omega.
It was reassuring that the man had personal experience with cyclos. Zemo had encountered too many Betas who didn’t have the first idea how to treat people like them. Thankfully, Doctor De Silva was a specialist, and he had been professional and thorough during their previous appointment with him. When Brock growled at him as he was taking a blood sample, he hadn’t even blinked.
Perhaps prompted by the memory, Zemo felt his own Alpha’s unease, and turned his head to look at Brock. His mate was restlessly jiggling his leg, his arms tightly crossed in front of him. Medical environments always made him uncomfortable, the same as they did James. Even though they were only here for the test results today, just being there was setting them both on edge. Brock had been hesitant to get any kind of testing done, but when Bucky pointed out that they all needed to do it for Zemo’s sake, the Alpha had resigned himself to going through with it.
Even if Zemo hadn’t been experiencing health issues, all cyclos and bonded Betas were supposed to get their hormone levels checked at least once a year. If left unmonitored, the amount of Alphasterone or Omegastrol in their bloodstream could fall too low or became elevated, and that could cause imbalances and serious complications.
Zemo had been tested regularly while incarcerated in Berlin, and both his and James’s blood had been analyzed a few months ago during their government-mandated bond testing. However, the last time that Brock had been to a doctor to get his prescription for suppressants renewed had been over a year ago, and they hadn’t done any kind of tests on him then. Unfortunately, that wasn’t unusual for Beta doctors who often had limited knowledge of people like them.
“Okay, I have a copy of the results here for you to read,” the doctor said, taking the sheet of paper he’d just printed and placing it on the desk in front of Zemo. “These are yours.”
Zemo looked at the paper in front of him, his attention focusing on the results on the right side of the chart which read:
Omegastrol: 400 pg/ml
Alphasterone: 90 ng/dl
"Your Alphasterone levels are within the expected range for a bonded Omega," the doctor said. "But your Omegastrol levels are still high."
"And what exactly does that mean?", Zemo asked.
"It puts you at risk for a number of conditions, including heat sickness - which you've already experienced. More generally, it can cause fatigue, muscle weakness, decreased heart rate, sweating and excessive production of slick, among other things."
“Yes, I understand,” Zemo said. “The doctor who saw me at the hospital said that I should take suppressants, or it was likely that I would get sick again."
De Silva frowned. "Well, it's a little more complicated than that. Your mate’s hormone levels also affect your own, so it's best to look at the whole picture."
He turned over the next page, indicating the results. "Here are yours, James. They're almost exactly 50/50 right now. Hormone levels can vary daily for Betas with two mates, but right now they're within the expected range, so there’s nothing to worry about."
He hesitated slightly before turning over another page. "These are Brock's results."
Zemo’s eyes widened when he read the numbers.
Omegastrol: 60 pg/ml
Alphasterone: 525 ng/dl
"Alphasterone levels over 450 are considered very high for Alphas," the doctor said. “We’d typically see these numbers in Alphas who are in the pre-rut phase of their cycle, or in full rut.”
“Supposed to have one soon," Brock grunted.
If Zemo had learned anything about his mate, it was that his Alpha got defensive if anyone so much as implied that there was something wrong with him.
"When was your last one?", the doctor asked, unperturbed by Brock’s unfriendly manner.
"Uh…when we bonded," Brock said, scratching at the scars on his cheek. "So that was um…"
"Late April," Bucky said, finishing for him.
Zemo considered if it was worth mentioning that Brock had induced his last rut with illegal drugs, but a rut was a rut, it wasn't going to make a difference either way.
“And you bonded during the rut?"
"Yes, because I was in heat," Zemo said. "Brock and James were already bonded, though not on good terms. I bonded with James the following day."
"It's kinda complicated," Bucky said awkwardly.
"So it's been almost six months since your last rut," the doctor said, making a note on the computer. "And you mentioned at our last appointment that you've been taking Quell?"
"Uh huh.”
"And how have you been finding it? Any side effects?"
Rumlow shrugged. "I dunno."
"Anything you can think of. The common ones are irritability, high sex drive, headaches and trouble getting to sleep."
"I sleep fine. No headaches. I guess I'm grumpy sometimes. Uh…" he shot a glance at Zemo. "Yeah, the sex thing."
"So, coming off them-"
"Wait, I never said I wanted to come off them!" Rumlow said quickly, looking panicked.
"I meant coming off them for a rut," the doctor said patiently.
"Ah, okay. Yeah."
Zemo squeezed Rumlow's leg reassuringly.
“When you need to have a rut, how do you manage coming off of them?” De Silva asked again.
“I…” Brock hesitated. He always used to run his packs of suppressors together, until he really, really had to go into rut. Then he’d shoot up with his supply of Alphasterone, pushing himself into one immediately. He knew it was illegal to use Alphasterone without a prescription, but that was the only way he knew how to manage his ruts. After Insight, he’d bought it in back alleys behind cyclo bars or seedy gyms, which had been extremely risky given how closely he was being watched by the government back then.
As soon as it started to wear off, he was straight back on his suppressors. Exactly how they’d managed him in HYDRA. It was usually only twice a year, but even that felt like too much.
Brock realized then that he’d waited too long to respond to the question the doctor had asked.
"It’s okay,” De Silva said with a kind smile. “We all need reminding how to use medication safely sometimes.”
Does he know? Brock wondered, as the doctor took a leaflet from the stack on top of his filing cabinet and handed it to him.
“It's advisable to reduce them over the course of a week to prevent side effects," the doctor continued, as Brock flicked through the leaflet, not concentrating on a word. "If you take half the dose, and then the following week stop taking them entirely, you’re likely to go into rut soon after."
Rumlow frowned. "But when?" He’d always know exactly when he was going to rut when he used Alphasterone injections….
"It will depend on your body, I can't say exactly."
Brock crossed his arms in front him. "That the best you got?"
"Don't be rude, Brock," Zemo chastised.
"All I'm saying is, the medics used to give us stuff to trigger rut so we'd know exactly when it was going to be."
"That's not safe, or legal," De Silva insisted. "I would advise against taking any kind of medication like that, for your own safety."
"Wasn't plannin' on it,” the Alpha grumbled.
"So it will help?" Zemo asked. "If he has a rut?"
"Having a rut should reduce Brock's Alphasterone levels," the doctor said. "And that in turn should also reduce your Omegastrol levels. So, I suggest you try that, and then we will have a follow up appointment to see how it has affected things.”
"An' after rut?" Brock asked. "Can I still take suppressants?"
"Well, yes,” the doctor confirmed. “But it may mean that Helmut will also need to, otherwise he'll be in the same situation as he is now."
Brock was silent after that. In fact, he was silent until they’d left the office and had driven halfway home.
"It's my fault," he said eventually, staring out the window of the car.
"What is, moj tigric?", Zemo asked from the front seat, turning to look at his mate.
"That you were sick,” Brock said sadly. “That you ended up in the hospital."
Zemo shook his head dismissively. "Oh, come now. We didn't know that you being on suppressants would cause this."
Brock sighed. "That don't change nothin'."
"I'm fine now," Zemo said. "All we have to do is follow the doctor’s advice. You will have a rut, and then…we will decide what to do after that."
He felt his certainty waver for a moment. Bucky seemed to have felt it too because he took his eyes off the road and gave him a look of concern. “What is it?"
"I don't want to take suppressants again," Zemo admitted. "They've always affected me negatively. I'm not myself when I take them. But if it's going to cause me to have health problems, I don’t suppose I have a choice.”
"See Baron, it's ‘cause of me you're in this situation," Brock said miserably.
He could tell him that it wasn’t his fault, but Zemo knew from experience that when his Alpha got like this, he simply wouldn’t hear it.
"Why are you so adamant about taking them?", Zemo asked instead. "I didn't want to pry before, but now I need to understand why it's so important to you."
"'cos I don't wanna hurt you,” Brock muttered. “I hurt you when we bonded and I'm never gonna do that again."
“You’re not going to hurt me if you stop taking them.”
Brock shook his head quickly. “Don’t wanna talk ‘bout it now. We got therapy tomorrow anyway.”
Zemo sighed. “Fine. Tomorrow, then.”
*
When they arrived home, Brock went straight down to his den. Zemo didn't go after him, but he was sure that if he had he would have found the door to the basement locked.
James fed Alpine, and then took a seat at the counter while Zemo busied about making lunch. He'd offered to help, but he knew that Zemo much preferred to do things his own way when he had something on his mind. Otherwise he got annoyed and ended up shooing Bucky out of the room.
"We'll talk when he's calmed down," Bucky said, feeling Zemo’s agitation in the bond.
"Yes, I know." Zemo replied, keeping his eyes on the omelette he was cooking.
No, he’s not upset , Bucky realized. What his mate was feeling was more like anger.
"So…you're pissed at him?", Bucky ventured.
Zemo was silent for a moment, before he said, "Yes."
"Why? Because he didn't wanna talk?"
Zemo shook his head. "No, it's not that. And it truly isn't his fault that I was sick, none of us knew the reason for that. But he says that he doesn't want to hurt me, and that's why he won't stop the suppressants. But it actually will hurt the both of us if he continues taking them."
Bucky thought about this for a moment, toying with an apple he'd taken from the fruit bowl on the counter. "It's his choice to take them or not," he said eventually.
"But we're bonded. Whether he takes them or not physically affects me. It's not the same for you, James.."
"Yeah, I get affected by both of you."
"But you're not going to get sick because of it.”
“No, I guess not.” Bucky admitted, “But I’m gonna make sure that doesn’t happen to you again.”
Zemo held his gaze for a moment, before his mask cracked and Bucky saw the emotion he felt in the bond appear on his mate’s face.
Bucky got up and went around to him and took his Zemo in his arms. “You’re gonna be okay, I promise,” he said. “You both are. We just gotta figure this out.”
“I believe I’ve been the one telling you that until now, James,” Zemo said, letting out a sigh as he relaxed against Bucky.
“Yeah, I know. But that’s my job, now that I’m Pack Leader.”
After a moment, Zemo turned away and plated up the food. Bucky followed him over to the table by the window where Zemo set them down and pulled up a chair.
“I think the problem is that Brock is afraid of what will happen if he doesn't take them,” Bucky said, taking a seat. “But you're afraid of what will happen if you do."
"I'm not afraid." Zemo said, taking a bite of his food. "I know what will happen if I take them.”
“And what’s that?”
Zemo sighed again, setting his knife and fork down. “I was on suppressants until I left prison in March, and even then it took a while for them to wear off, as you know. I didn’t mention this at the time, but it reminded me of the little holidays I was able to take from them when I would come home to be with my wife.”
Bucky frowned. “You had to take suppressants in the military, right?”
“Of course. But they were required for most gainful employment in my country. I wouldn’t have been able to attend high school, had I not taken them.”
“It’s not like that here.”
“In theory,” Zemo said. “Brock was allowed to attend high school, but he couldn’t complete it,” “He blames himself of course, but I hardly think it was his fault. I wonder if it would have been different for him if he’d been able to afford medication. One of the motivating factors for him joining HYDRA was that he would be given free suppressants.”
“I thought you were just saying you hated suppressants?”, Bucky said. “You seemed so against them.”
Zemo shook his head. “I’m not. For others, they can work wonders. But for myself, they do not agree with me. I suppose I…I hoped it wouldn’t be just a holiday. I'm happy now, with both of you. I don't want that to change."
Bucky nodded. "I know. And we're gonna figure this out."
He watched as Zemo continued to toy with his own food. "Was Brock always so insistent about taking suppressants?", Zemo asked.
"Yeah, I think so." Bucky said. "He took them like clockwork. Except for some missions where they gave him and the other Alphas shots instead. That didn’t happen often since the side effects made him real strung out."
Zemo grimaced. “Yes, I’ve certainly experienced that. Did you ever spend a rut with him?"
Bucky shook his head. "No. Except when we bonded. That was the only time."
"It makes sense," Zemo said thoughtfully. "HYDRA wouldn't want the bond between you to become too strong."
"Wouldn’t want either of us getting 'too attached'," Bucky said bitterly.
"No wonder he's afraid of the possibility of spending a rut with you," Zemo said. "It is scary, for him. You become so vulnerable when you're in that state, and if we know anything about our mate, it's that he finds vulnerability rather difficult."
"Yeah. Kind of an understatement.”
"I wonder what effect it will have on our bond," Zemo mused. "I wonder if perhaps we will be able to feel him more after this."
"Maybe," Bucky shrugged. "Guess we'll have to see."
*
It was evening by the time Brock came back upstairs, and Bucky and Zemo were curled up together on the couch watching TV. Brock entered and sat down on the other couch with a sigh.
"How're you doing?", Bucky asked.
Brock nodded. "Not bad. But I don't wanna talk about rut stuff right now.”
Zemo got up from where he was sitting and went over to Brock.
"Hey, Baron. You miss me?"
Zemo nuzzled against him in response. “Can we be together now? We don’t have to talk about anything difficult.”
“Yeah, sure. Took me a while to calm down, but I managed it.”
“What did you do?”
“Played video games mostly. Worked out for a while too, but it’s not the same without equipment.”
“We can get some equipment now that we’ve finished your room, “ Zemo said. “Whatever you want.”
“Thanks. I’ll have to think about it. Need to do some research.”
“I’ll need some that’s not gonna break,” Bucky added.
“James,” Zemo said, smiling in amusement. “I really doubt there’s much that won’t, if you’re using even half your strength.”
“Weights,” Bucky said. “Old school ones. I don’t need anything fancy. And I won’t break ‘em.”
“Well, if that’s what you want I’m sure we can find something.”
“Why do you even need to work out?”, Brock asked. “You’re a super soldier, and it’s not like you’re going on missions anymore.”
Bucky shrugged. “I like running, it clears my head. And since Wakanda, I’ve been doing exercises for proprioception.”
“Propro what?”
“Body awareness. Balancing and things like that.”
“Those fancy handstands?”, Brock laughed. “Thought you were just doing Yoga or somethin’.”
“Nah. It just helps my brain and body connect so I don’t accidentally break stuff.” He held up his vibranium hand. “I figured weights might help too, so I remember how strong I actually am and don’t accidentally tear the banister off again.”
“For the last time, James. I told you I was going to replace it,” Zemo tutted. “You did me a favor.”
“What’re you gonna do when the house is all done, anyway?”, Bucky asked, brushing a loose strand of hair from Zemo’s face.
Zemo shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m sure I’ll find something. I’d like to begin work on the garden, once the interior is complete and the weather is warmer.”
There was a “Mrreow?” from under the couch, and Alpine slid out from under the couch where she’d been exploring. With another chirrup, the small white kitten jumped up next to Bucky and began purring.
“You’re a cute little fluffball, ain’tcha?”, Bucky cooed at her as she started to settle.
“Won’t you get bored, Baron?”, Brock asked.
Zemo tilted his head to one side. “Why would you think that?”
Brock touched a finger to his Omega’s temple. “‘Cos you got a big brain. You need problems to solve.”
“Hmm. He’s got a point,” Bucky added, stroking Alpine who had curled up in his lap purring.
“I mean, I’m getting a little stir crazy and I’m not half as smart as you are,” Brock added.
“You’re bored?”, Zemo asked in surprise.
Brock frowned. “Kinda. I miss New York sometimes. It’s nice here, but it’s quiet now the summer’s over, y’know?”
“Well, maybe you just need something to do.”
“Yeah,” Brock agreed. “Just don’t know what I can do. I could try and get a job I guess, but who’s gonna hire me looking like this?”, he gestured to the scars on his face. “An’ what could I do, anyway? With a record like mine? In WITSEC they had me packing grocery bags, but I’d always end up gettin’ fired.”
“You have a lot of skills, Brock,” Zemo said. “Plenty of people would look past your scars, I’m sure.”
Brock shook his head. “Nah. I know how they look at me. They think I’m dangerous. And hey, they’re not wrong, are they?”
“You’re not dangerous,” Zemo insisted. “You wouldn’t hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it.”
“Not on purpose.”
“Brock-”
“I meant what I said. I’m not gonna talk about this til tomorrow.”
“Alright,” Zemo said with a sigh. “How about we get an early night, hm?”
“Okay. I’m gonna sleep down in my den. But maybe we can go up to your room first?”
Zemo glanced at Bucky, who was still stroking Alpine, “James?”
Bucky nodded. “You two go ahead,” he said. “I’ll come up later.”
“Well, if you’re sure.”
*
Their therapy appointment the next day wasn’t until the late afternoon, and as they drew up outside the building the sky was already beginning to grow dark. Inside, the lights in Alice Thorne’s office were dimmed, and there was a candle on her desk which bathed the room in a soft glow.
Brock wasn’t sure at what point during their sessions he’d stopped looking around the room for a way to escape and actually started relaxing. It wasn’t always easy, but he could definitely say that therapy had helped them a lot and he wanted to keep doing it.
Alice took her usual seat in the armchair opposite the couch on which they sat. Her long red hair was tied back in a ponytail and she was wearing a green knit sweater. She adjusted her glasses as she glanced at the notes from their previous session.
"So, tell me," she said, "How have you been since last week? I know that you mentioned you were going to get your test results back, Helmut."
"Mm, yes. Well, I suppose that's as good a place as any to start." Zemo replied. He was sitting on the left side of the couch and had taken one of the therapy blankets from the basket and was running his hands over it, feeling the softness of the fabric. An Omega's way of self-soothing.
He explained the results, and the situation they found themselves in: Zemo not wanting to take suppressants, and Brock being afraid to stop taking them.
"He has to have a rut, regardless." Zemo finished. "Breaks from suppressants are medically necessary."
"That's true," Alice agreed. "Heats and ruts can be difficult to negotiate, so yours isn't an uncommon situation in that regard. But how are you feeling about this, Brock? I notice that you haven't said anything."
"Yeah, well. I don't wanna make things worse,” Brock mumbled.
"Can you say more about that?"
"I mean, I don't want the Baron to get sick again because of me."
"That's not going to happen." Zemo said quickly. "And it really wasn't your fault. Why can't you believe that?"
Brock shrugged and folded his arms in front of him protectively. "I'm always hurting you," he mumbled. "Being bonded to me hurts you."
"That's not how I feel at all," Zemo insisted. " I love you, I love being with you. My life is so much better with you in it."
"Last time I had a rut I hurt you," Brock said quietly.
Zemo was silent for a moment. Eventually he said, "We were fighting. I hurt you too. But that was a completely different situation. I didn't even know you then. You were a stranger to me. I promise you, it's not going to be like it was then."
Brock nodded slowly. "Yeah, I'd never let myself be like that around you now."
"Exactly."
"What do you mean?", Bucky asked. "Never let yourself be like that?"
"I know I gotta have a rut," Brock said grimly. "But I'm not gonna hurt you. I'll just stay down in my den until it's over. You can lock me in, so you're safe."
Bucky and Zemo both exchanged looks, but it was Alice who spoke first.
"You're afraid that you will hurt your mates if you are with them during rut?", she asked.
Brock nodded. "Yeah. Course I am."
"Why is that?"
"Because I'm not safe to be around them when I'm like that."
"I see,” Alice said. “Can I ask, have you ever been with James while you were in rut?"
"Nah. Only the first time when we bonded. Wasn't allowed after that. Said it would make us both too attached."
"Is that why it feels unsafe to you? Because you believe it will affect the bond in some way?”
Brock shook his head. "No, it's unsafe because I'll hurt them."
"How do you know that, if you have never been with them?"
"Because when I have ruts it's-" Brock stopped, clenching and unclenching his jaw. When he spoke again there was tension in his voice. "I was on suppressants in juvie, y’know, so I didn't have full ruts until I was already in HYDRA. Must've been eighteen or nineteen. I'd just got assigned my first apartment with Jack. Lucky he was in the hospital when it happened, because when my rut hit I smashed everything up. I don't even remember why. Jack didn't care, he just helped me fix it up after he came back. Next time they scheduled one was six months later, and that time was even worse."
"For Alphas in rut, aggression is often a result of frustration." Alice said. "I'm just speculating, but being alone, without a pack leader or any other packmates may have triggered such a response."
"But Jack was my-" Brock stopped. "I mean, he was like a pack mate, but he was a Beta."
"So it wasn't enough for you to be with him the second time?"
"No, I tried to fight him. But he wouldn't let me leave."
"You wanted to leave?"
"Yeah, to get to Win."
"Oh, so you’d bonded to James by that point?"
"Uh-huh."
"I think that makes a lot of sense, Brock." Alice said. "You were alone in a new place the first time. You likely hadn't had time to adjust to your surroundings, and your close friend was in the hospital. And the second… well, I think any Alpha would react in that way if their mate was kept from them while they were in rut."
Brock looked unconvinced, but kept silent.
"How does that land with you?," Alice asked.
"I dunno. I don't remember how it was exactly. I was just real angry. I was scared of hurting Jackie, so next time I went to this place they had for the Alphas, and they locked me up."
"They locked you up because you were in rut?", Bucky asked in disbelief.
"Nah, I had to beg Pierce to let me go there. I was totally out of control. After that I went there every time. They kept me in a rut cell to stop me hurting myself or anyone else."
“A ‘rut cell’?” Alice asked, making a note. “Can you tell me more about that?”
"I guess," Brock said with a shrug. "Pretty much what it sounds like. Just a room that kept me safe. Had a bed and a toilet. I could walk around and yell and stuff, but I couldn't get out and hurt no one."
“You were locked in there?”
“Uh huh.”
“Your whole rut?”
“Well, the worst couple days. Then they’d sedate me and I could go to the med bay."
"I see.” Alice tapped her pen on the table. “Before that happened, were you offered any other help?"
"Uhhh they let me have a few days off work," Brock said, scratching the scars on his cheek.
"I'm aware of HYDRA putting Alphas in these cells," Alice said. "I think it's worth saying, that that isn't recommended practice anywhere."
Brock shrugged. "It did the job."
"Can I say something?", Zemo asked.
Alice nodded. "Go ahead."
"If anyone had kept my mate Heike from me while I was in heat, I would have torn them limb from limb."
Brock stared at him in disbelief. "You serious, Baron?"
"Absolutely. And I think Alice is right. No wonder you were angry that you couldn't be with your mate."
"How did it feel for you, James?", Alice asked.
"Um…" Bucky hesitated. "I don't know if I remember. I think…yeah. I was kept in my cell. Sir- I mean, Brock said I had to stay there." He was silent for a minute before he said, "I think I was worried about him. That he was hurting. I think…I don't want that to happen now. I want to be with him."
"I want that too," Zemo said, turning to Brock. "Both myself and James want to be with you for this. But if you really don't feel comfortable, we don't have to. That is also an option."
"Thanks for saying that, Baron," Brock mumbled.
"There are also things you can do to make it easier," Alice said. "Rut toys can be very helpful, if you are alone. And you can scent things like blankets and clothing to give to him, if you aren't with him. Some cyclos find collars help a lot, too."
"Yeah, I used to have a collar," Brock said. "Got too tight though, so I don’t wear it no more.”
"Well, maybe that's something to think about," Alice suggested. "They can also be worn at other times to help you if you're finding it difficult to manage your cyclo behaviors."
Brock rubbed the sensitive glands on his neck. “If you think that will help, I guess I can try it.”
“I think that it might be good homework for you to think about what you would like to do: If you would want to spend your rut with your mates, or alone with support from your Pack Leader.”
"What do you mean, ‘support’?”, Brock asked, glancing at Bucky.
“Well, it’s up to you both to agree on what that means for you. It could mean that if you choose to use a collar, James will agree to come in and help you if you need it. He might calm you down by making you submit to him, reassuring you with praise or bringing you things you might need like food and water.”
Bucky thought about this. He still wasn’t really sure what being Pack Leader meant to Brock. He’d happily do all those things for him, if that’s what his mate needed. But the more selfish part of Bucky wanted to be with his mate in rut. They’d never had that, and now that they finally could, Brock was terrified of hurting them. Or at least, of hurting Zemo.
“You’re not worried about hurting me?”, Bucky asked.
“I…” Brock hesitated. “I am, but it’s not the same.”
“Because I’m a supersoldier?”
“Well, yeah. But more because you’re my Pack Leader.”
“What does James being Pack Leader mean for you, Brock?” Alice asked.
“Means I have to do what he says, no matter what. Means he’s not gonna let me get out of control.”
“And what does it mean for you, James?”
“We haven’t really discussed me being Pack Leader much,” Bucky admitted. “I like making him submit and knot for me, but we haven’t really done a lot else. I’m a Beta so I guess it doesn’t come naturally, at least not in the way it would for an Alpha.”
“Do you agree with what Brock said?”
“Uh, kind of? I’m not gonna let him lose it, because I want to make sure he’s okay. But I don’t wanna make him do things if it makes him uncomfortable. If it’s something he doesn’t want, I’m not gonna force it on him.”
“I think that this is still new for you both, and that it will take some time to work out what this new relationship means for you,” Alice said.
“Don’t want…”
“What’s that, Brock?”
“Don’t want him to be like Pierce. That’s all.”
“I won’t be,” Bucky said quickly. “I’d never treat you like that.”
“At this stage, I think it’s important to communicate what you want, and what you don’t want from your relationship.”
“Uh-huh.”
“The same goes for you too, James. And for Helmut as well. It might be useful to think about how you relate to one another, and what you want from your relationship.”
Bucky looked over at Zemo who was still running his hands over the blanket. “I’m not like Brock. If James tells me to do something, I won’t do it unless it suits me. Not because I don’t respect his authority, but I need him to put me in my place. I’m worried that he’ll struggle with that.”
“It’s not always easy to give up control.”
“No, it isn’t. And there are things I want that I’m not sure if James is willing to do. I suppose it’s been a while since we discussed our boundaries, and a lot has changed since then.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” Bucky agreed. “I guess there’s a lot I’m learning about myself right now. When I first started having feelings for you, I wanted to make sure I wasn’t gonna hurt you. But I think I trust myself more now, and I’d be more open to…trying things.”
“We’re coming to the end of our session, but perhaps it would be good to discuss this more at home,” Alice suggested.
*
Brock sat at his new desk, pen in hand and thought about what he wanted to say. He felt like the blank piece of paper was staring at him. What was he supposed to say?
"How is the list coming along?", Zemo asked when Brock came up for lunch.
"Not so good," Brock admitted, showing him the still-blank piece of paper.
"I have an idea that might help. May I have the pen?"
Brock handed it to him and Zemo turned the piece of paper around so that it was landscape and wrote the 'like', 'neutral', 'dislike' at the top.
"I thought it might be easier for you to categorize things in this way, perhaps. That way you don't have to write long explanations. As an example, for myself I would put 'being given orders' in neutral. I don't mind them, but I don't feel strongly that I want to obey them.
"Uh, okay. I guess I can try that," Brock said, scratching his cheek. He wrote ‘ folowing orders’ in the 'like' category."
Zemo went back to cooking, and Brock thought about Bucky telling him to kneel, of sinking to his knees for him, spreading his legs so that his Pack Leader could see his knot…
He gasped as he felt his knot begin to swell up just thinking about it.
He wrote the word 'knotting' in the 'like' category.
"You're finished?" Bucky asked.
He glanced at the list.
Like
Folowing orders
Knoting for PL
BJs
Rewards
Prase
Obaying PL
Wressling
Teesing
Neutral
Dunno
Dislike
Punishments
Insalts
Ruff stuff
Anal
Being tyed up
"I... I know it's not something you can really do, since you gotta keep me in line…" Brock said hesitantly. "But getting punished... I don't like it. I know that's the point. But I'll try real hard to do everything you say, I promise, I just don't want to have to-"
"You don't have to." Bucky said quickly. "I'm not gonna do anything you don't want me to."
"Okay," Brock said, still sounding relieved, if a little unconvinced. "I wanna believe you, but it's kind of hard. ‘Cause how are you gonna react when I fuck up?"
"That's okay, I figure it'll get easier over time," Bucky said. "Can I ask what you mean by ‘teesing?"
"Like teasing because I knotted or something. It's kind of hot, as long as you don't call me names and stuff."
"And 'ruff stuff'?". Bucky asked.
"Like hitting, pinching, scratching…"
"What about biting?'
"I like it, but only if it's not too hard and you groom me after. Then it feels good."
"Okay. And when you say anal, do you mean you don't want to penetrate me? I know we haven't done that in a while."
"No, I mean I don't want you to fuck me. I didn't know you'd want me to…do you still want that? Even though you're Pack Leader now?"
"Yeah, of course. Unless you don't want to?"
Brock shook his head quickly. "No, I want to. I just…dunno how, I guess. With you being Pack Leader an' all…I just figured I wasn’t allowed to do that no more."
"We can still have sex, Bones,” Bucky sighed. “Look, we'll work it out. Now, what do you think about collars?"
“I got my old one downstairs. We can try it, I guess.”
“Okay - wanna dig it out in a minute? We can see if it still fits, and if not we can get you a new one.”
“Sure.” Brock swallowed softly.
"So, what about you, Zemo?"
“There are a lot of things I enjoy," Zemo said, coming in from the kitchen and indicating the list he'd written earlier. "I like being tied up and restrained, blindfolded, choked, hit, spanked, having my hair pulled, being marked. Unlike Brock, I prefer punishments to rewards, so anything you want to do or say to me to put me in my place is fine. I trust that you'd be able to use our bond to tell if what you are doing feels right."
"I don't want praise during play, but afterwards I want lots of affection and attention. I want to feel taken care of, so lots of cuddling and scenting is good."
"I am ambivalent about you giving me orders. I would much rather be made to follow them, rather than doing them by choice. But when it comes to our day-to-day life, I want to make my own decisions, as I am your mate and your equal."
"Okay," Bucky said. "That's a lot to think about. I don't wanna hit you - but the rest I might be willing to do."
"Whatever you feel comfortable with is fine, James," Zemo said. "There were more things, but I really didn't think you'd want to do knife play or- what's the word - stimulation with electricity?"
"Yeah, you're right about that." Bucky tried to suppress a shudder.
"Oh, and I might also get a collar too."
"That's fine by me."
“What’s ‘roleplaying’?” Brock asked, turning Zemo’s list to face him.
“Oh,” Zemo smiled. “It’s when you act out a fantasy during sexual activity. Perhaps you pretend to be in a different situation, or pretend to be different people.”
“Different people?”
“Sometimes. For example, we might pretend that I’m a doctor, and you’re my patient. And I examine your body -”
“And then we have sex?”
“Possibly,” Zemo chuckled.
“Oh. I know some people who were into that,” Bucky added thoughtfully. “This girl I knew back in the day, she liked to pretend I was a fireman who saved her from a burning building. And then have me give her the kiss of life to save her.”
A memory stirred in Brock’s mind. “What about a cop? Catching a bad guy?” He said, before he could stop himself.
“Yeah, that’s a good example-” Bucky started.
“Is that something you’d like, moj tigric?” Zemo asked, raising an eyebrow at his Alpha.
“No!” Brock said quickly, feeling his cheeks burn. “Just an idea!”
“Alright-”
“I’ll go get my collar!” Brock said quickly, getting up from the table and turning away, hoping his mates hadn’t spotted him blushing.
“So, he’s definitely into cop roleplay,” Bucky laughed softly when Brock was out of earshot.
“More than likely,” Zemo smiled. “But does he want to be the cop, or the ‘bad guy’? I could see it going either way for him. Or both.”
“I get the feeling we’ll find out before too long.”
“Here, I got it,” Bones said, coming back into the room and placing his collar on the table.
It looked like a short, heavily-worn nylon strap, with a large plastic buckle on each end. There were two large protruding blocks attached to the inside, and as Zemo cautiously turned it over, a small padlock on one of the buckles clattered against the table.
“They made you wear this?” Zemo asked quietly.
“Yeah, look.” Brock grabbed it and clipped it around his neck, tugging it around until the clip was at the back and the two wide blocks aligned with his scent glands. “Lost the key to the padlock…” he panted, his eyes already starting to lose their focus a little. “Got… tighter when i got… older…”
Bucky stood up and unclipped it, tossing it back down on the table. “The fuck was that?”
Zemo picked up the collar and ran it through his fingers. “A collar is meant to put pressure on the glands of the neck,” he explained. “It’s meant to provide a calming, soothing experience.”
“It does!” Brock protested.
Zemo shook his head. “This is far too tight for you. And these gland blocks are far too rigid! They weren’t putting pressure on your glands - they were crushing them.”
“All the Alphas got the same one…” Bones tried to explain.
“Well, that’s completely inappropriate,” Zemo continued. “They need to be individually fitted by a professional. It seems HYDRA favored cost-saving measures over the wellbeing of their Alphas. Which shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone.”
Rumlow folded his arms defensively. “It did the job okay for me.”
“You’ve never felt a properly functioning collar. I’m sure this thing made you more compliant and docile. But did it feel good?”
“... not exactly.”
“Mm.” Zemo’s fingers reached the padlock. “And they used to force you to keep it on during rut?”
“Uh-huh.”
“All of it?.”
“...yeah.”
Bucky felt a sudden wave of sadness, edged with anger, emitting from Zemo. He was too wound up to talk, Bucky realized, and was transmitting his feelings rather than putting them into words. Bones glanced between his two mates in concern. “What?”
“Here.” Bucky reached over to the counter behind them, grabbed Zemo’s phone and handed it to the Omega.
“What’s he doing?” Bones asked, trying to see what his mate was googling.
“He’s finding you a collar fitter,” Bucky said, rubbing Zemo’s back for reassurance.
*