Chapter Text
This was the 6th time they’d loaned Zemo out of the Raft like a well thumbed book from the library, and they needed the information he held within his pages once again. Both Bucky and Sam had learnt to like the other man, Sam had fallen for his charm quicker than Bucky had, the soldier having his walls built a little higher, a little sturdier. But after realising Zemo is only human, yes a human with a convoluted background of highly dangerous jobs that skirted the grey area between good and evil, right and wrong, but just a man none the less, they’d come to find they all worked together quite well.
Zemo had taught Bucky how to cook traditional Sokovian food when one of their safe houses had a half decent kitchen, and Bucky had shared his moms recipe for a stew that used all the leftovers from their war rations but tasted damn good. So when the cupboards were a little bare when missions dragged on and their supply budget was running low they whipped up their own versions of Mrs Barnes surprise stew and all bonded over childhood experiences, and laughed about it the one time it tasted god awful because all they had was a week old cauliflower and half an onion and not even the Baron could make that taste palatable. They’d begged for access to Zemo’s own wealth on missions after that, it was just sitting there after all, but the government still kept tabs on what they were spending to make sure Zemo wasn’t living the high life while off the Raft. He wouldn’t have usually considered delivery tacos living a life of luxury but after the food on the Raft, and living in solitary Zemo had realised he found his current company luxury indeed.
On their previous mission Zemo had quite literally jumped in front of a bullet for Bucky, he’d acquired Sam’s shield when the other man had flung it at an escaping criminal and it had embedded itself in a tree instead of returning. Zemo had wrenched it out and thrown himself in between Bucky and a man aiming a gun at the unarmed soldiers chest, he’d run out of ammo and already thrown his empty gun in frustration at another man’s head.
Bucky had been angry, not knowing how to react to this gesture from a man who had once wanted him dead. He had said he’d no longer wanted to kill him, but Bucky hadn’t thought that extended to saving his life. He’d told Zemo that he’d survive a bullet easier than the Baron would and tried to rile the other man up by reasoning it was because of the serum that he would survive. All his anger had done was result in a long overdue conversation between the pair on why Zemo had come to realise that Bucky was an exception to his rule on super soldiers and that in spite of the serum he was a remarkable man all on his own.
After that Bucky had been reluctant to cart Zemo back to the Raft, throughout the previous missions he had grown somewhat closer to the man but had always deemed it best he return until the next time they needed him, there would always be a next time. But after their 5th mission he found himself willing another job to come as quickly as possible, the gnawing in his gut not letting him rest until he knew he would be seeing Zemo again. Sometimes it had been weeks in between, sometimes months and the hollow feeling that something was missing never left Bucky until Zemo was back from the Raft.
So when Bucky woke up face down on a cold concrete floor with his wrists tied to his ankles behind him, with what felt like vibranium chains, he complied immediately when Zemo whispered so quietly only his super hearing would be able to pick it up.
“You need to be the Soldat, they’ll kill us, you’re the Winter Soldier.”
He can feel the warmth of the other man’s breath against the side of his neck and he opens his eyes immediately putting on his cold bionic stare.
“Finally, thought he’d heal quicker from a head wound than that.” Someone with an American accent says as they kick his knee with their boot to get his attention.
Bucky isn’t taken aback by the accent, they were hunting a newer Hydra faction that had started sprouting up in rural parts of American, like a damn cult. He glares at the man and makes a show of testing his chains, yeah definitely vibranium. The man above him laughs at his struggle as a woman in a well tailored pant suit, looking entirely out of place in the damp basement, comes over to observe.
“It’s the Baron here who has all the information on the super soldier program, get him to talk, tell us where it is. He cleared out the old base in Siberia the information must be somewhere.” She says to the man on her left, eyes examining the two lying at her feet.
“You know his training, what if he doesn’t talk?” The man says and Bucky isn’t sure he ranks high enough to be talking back to his superior like that.
“Keep torturing until he does. Use the asset against him.” She says unperturbed by his questioning.
“And if he’s destroyed the information?”
“Kill him. Keep the soldier.” She says narrowing her eyes in curiosity at Bucky.
“Isn’t he the handler, aren’t they programmed to not hurt their handlers?”
“Not exactly. It’s in their best interest to keep their handler alive, there was an account of a soldier cutting off a handlers leg without anaesthesia when they were trapped in a car accident, programmed to preserve the life of their handler over their comfort. And if that means torturing them to get them to talk in order to save their life in the long run... although that other man did die of shock and blood loss eventually.” she says smirking a little taking in both men’s deadpan expressions, Bucky’s bionic stare and Zemo’s emptiness that he had resigned himself to the fact he was in for torture one way or another.
“I’m not entirely sure that’s the kind of loop hole that’s gonna work here.”
“Well you try hurting him first and then see if the soldier would rather do it himself.” She suggests.
“How do I get the soldier to do that, isn’t he gonna kill me as soon as I unchain him?” The man sounds increasingly more agitated but the woman’s demeanour doesn’t change at all.
“Use your imagination. I’ll send more men down but you better keep him subdued one way or another because he’s taken out whole army’s single handedly. Threaten to put a bullet in his handlers brain if he even thinks about attacking in your direction, have a man with a gun on the Baron at all times.” She says before swiftly leaving, her heels the only noise as they echo back up the staircase.
The man just stares at them and Bucky can’t move much tied up like a hog so he waits, waits for the guards back up to arrive, maybe he can strike quickly as soon as he’s untied. He realises it’s not gonna happen when 3 more Hydra guards lift Zemo off the floor into a sitting position and all aim their rifles at him.
Bucky’s left tied up face down in the concrete but is shifted enough so he can watch when they start to question Zemo.
He doesn’t answer them, just stares straight ahead as if no one is speaking, the kind of stare that would give Bucky’s bionic one a run for his money. After the 5th no answer he’s smacked in the head with the butt of one of the rifles. His head snaps to the side and a cut oozes blood just above his eyebrow.
“Come on man, don’t knock him out again, we need him to actually answer the questions.” The first guard shouts.
They immediately begin to inflict intense methods of torture, and Bucky can do nothing but watch as the chains holding him are stronger than his vibranium arm. He can’t even react just glare with his cheek pressing into the cold concrete, while Zemo doesn’t even struggle beside him, just lets it happen. He’s laid back with a pillow case thrust over his head and they begin to pour water over it, he lays still for a surprising length of time holding his breath but they’re unrelenting until he’s gasping uncontrollably, legs kicking out across the concrete floor trying to scramble for purchase, find air. When they rip the bag back off he rolls over and wretches, spluttering out some of the water that made its way into his mouth, but he manages to recover quickly before they do it again, and then again when he still won’t talk.
After the 4th time he rolls towards Bucky who is still trying to keep his soldier persona in place, however he is allowed to show his anger at his handler being tortured and being tied up himself, but it is hard not to let his real concern slip through. Zemo locks his eyes on him and Bucky sees in his gaze the other man willing him to stay in character. He knows the kind of thing Zemo has endured before, in training and in the field, read it in his files when he was imprisoned the first time. Knows that he will do this in the hopes that Sam will find them before he’s killed, they won’t kill Bucky, they want the soldier, but if they realise he’s no longer the asset, they’ll kill them both. Zemo is doing this to protect Bucky, it’s a lot more than being willing to take a bullet this time, and the thought makes a lump burn in the back of Bucky’s throat.
They abandon the water torture, Zemo’s hair, high neck black sweater and front of his black tactical pants are soaked. He’s lifted up onto a metal chair and his hands retied behind him, ankles bound to the chair legs. He sags forward as he heaves in lungfuls of air and Bucky knows how much his chest must burn right now. The guards reposition themselves with their guns pointed at Zemo, Bucky is lifted by another two men and placed where he has a better vantage point but his position face down means he can’t see his handlers face.
“Fight and we kill him instantly.” The leader says as the guards rethink his position, unchaining him and so he can sit up before cuffing his hands to his ankles in front of him, so his knees are tucked under his chin. Bucky allows it to happen and Zemo watches him as he pants out wet breathes, his soaked hair hanging in front of his face.
One of the guards slicks back Zemo’s hair from his face then uses the grasp on his hair to yank his head back, Zemo grunts in shock but quickly composes himself. They ask their questions again and the Baron still refuses to talk, after each unanswered question he’s repeatedly hit in the face with the butt of a rifle until the skin on his lip and cheek bone are both split and bleeding, the 5th time Bucky hears a sickening crunch and blood pours from Zemo’s nose before the man drops his head back down.
Zemo doesn’t lift his head back up, it’s hangs loosely between his shoulders and Bucky thinks he might have passed out but he can hear the other man shudder in a quiet breath and knows he’s still awake.
“Lets not go so extreme as to start removing fingers just yet.” The woman’s voice comes from the top of the stairs to the basement. “We may still want to use him for our experiments and he’ll need all his limbs. We don’t yet have the information to make him any bionic ones like his pet here.” Bucky balks at the thought of the Winter Soldier programme being used against Zemo. “Your shifts over.” She says as she descends the stairs.
“He hasn’t said anything yet.” The guard in charge protests.
“We have plenty of time.” She replies calmly. “Move the soldier to the holding cell, make sure he’s fed before you leave for the night, the Baron stays here, the guard change have been instructed not to feed him, or let him sleep. Tomorrow he should be nice and delirious for you, the pain will feel ten times worse and hopefully he’ll talk without you having to get your hands too dirty, or maybe the soldier would like to take over by then.” She says turning to look at Bucky who’s glare is fixed on Zemo, the state of his handler being the soldiers biggest concern right now.
Before Bucky is taken to the holding cell he watches as the men move Zemo into a submissive position, chained in a way that he’s squatted down until his backside hits his heels and his arms are behind his back, when sat like this for a long period of time without the ability to move will put intense stress on the few muscles holding him up. Bucky’s endured this before as the soldier when being punished and knows he will most likely be left like this for most of the night, propped back up and whipped if he lays down or falls until he cannot hold himself up anymore and passes out with exhaustion. They blindfold him, plug up his ears and stuff his mouth full with rags before gagging him with tape, making him dry heave before Bucky is finally removed from the room, the guards make a show of aiming their guns at Zemo so the soldier doesn’t struggle as he’s escorted to a cage that he is sure is made of vibranium.
Bucky doesn’t sleep, the serum makes it possible to last longer without rest than the average human. He listens for any noise coming from the other room, a few hours go by before he hears a rattle of chains and the thud of Zemo falling to the ground, and Bucky is surprised at the other man’s resilience. The crack of a baton against skin and bone is the next thing he hears, a muffled groan and then the sound of Zemo being hauled back into position. A little over an hour later the same series of noises. And 45 minutes after that. Then half an hour. Then 10 minutes. Then instantly. He hears the crack of the baton again and the chains being released and repositioned, he’s probably been allowed to sit down now but the position will still not be comfortable, his thighs and calves will burn and spasm from being contorted holding his weight for so long, he’d be exhausted and he will not be allowed to sleep. He can hear the muted groans of Zemo through his gag as he’s slapped, beaten and doused with water, supposedly freezing cold by the way the Baron can’t seem to catch his breath through his nose and sounds as though he’s choking on the rags in his mouth.
Bucky has a guard posted outside his cage facing towards him so as soon as Bucky was left to rest he turned over on the cot in the corner and faced the wall, he tries not to flinch at every pained noise that Zemo makes but he’s glad the guard can’t see his face because he can’t hide the fear from his features.
It feels like it takes days for morning to arrive but when the guards from before come back to relieve the night shift Bucky has to suppress a sigh of relief. He’s re-chained with 4 guns pointed at him and finally led back to Zemo.
The smell in the damp basement is stronger than before, the acrid stench of piss lingering in the air and Zemo in sat hunched over on the floor taking in ragged breathes through his nose looking utterly broken. He is once against surrounded by 3 men all pointing guns at his head. There’s 8 guards in total including the leader, nothing he couldn’t handle but with their guns trained on Zemo like this he can’t risk it, the Baron would be killed immediately.
Zemo’s mouth is still stuffed and gagged, he’s still blind folded and his ears are still plugged so he doesn’t notice the others come in, but as soon as his ears are uncovered he tries to sit up straight, the tape is ripped from his mouth leaving his cheeks pink and lips dry, he wretches as the rags are pulled from his mouth but doesn’t have anything in his stomach to throw up, he gulps in air and tries to lick his lips to wet them but his mouth is dry and he swallows thickly, the act looking painful in itself.
His blindfold is finally removed and he squints against the harsh white of the artificial lighting. Bucky can tell he’s trying to not look as defeated as he must feel, straightening his back as much as he can, a look of defiance painted across his features, but his eyes are red, bruises blossoming all over his pale face and dried blood crusted under his nose and over his chin.
They stand him next to Zemo his hands and ankles still chained but not as tightly as being forced into a sitting positing again. He looks down at the man below him and Zemo refuses to meet his eyes, his wet hair and clothes have dried, the scent of piss must have been from a little while ago as he doesn’t seem to be damp, whether he had wet himself or the guards had taken to pissing on him Bucky doesn’t know, and hoped it was the former.
“Boss wants him intact, we cannot disfigure him incase she decides to use him for her experiments,” the American man from the night before announces, “so pain and humiliation are our go to today.” And Bucky feels like the man is addressing him rather than the other guards.
“вода” voda, water. Bucky says in Russian to the guard, his glare as stoic as ever.
“He asked for water.” One of the men, with a Russian accent Bucky notes, says from their position behind the leader. Now he knows for sure he can’t communicate with Zemo in Russian without being caught.
The man is handed a bottle of water and he reaches it out to Bucky, Bucky goes to take it with both hands as they’re chained together. But the man snatches it back.
“Kneel.” He says, Bucky glares at him but the guards surrounding Zemo raise their guns again and he slowly lowers to his knees. “So you can’t just give it to your handler.” The man says as he holds the bottle up above Bucky’s head.
Bucky parts his lips and allows the man to unceremoniously waterfall the bottle into his mouth, he gulps down the first few mouthfuls and as he sees the man pull back he holds the last one in his mouth.
He keeps his eyes on the men with guns as he turns to Zemo, they raise in warning but they won’t stop him, won’t kill them, not when they still need information, so they just watch as Bucky tilts Zemo’s head back with gentle fingers on his chin, the Baron blinks his eyes blearily at him before registering that the soldier wants him to open his bloodied mouth, his flesh thumb tugging at the other man’s lower lip. Bucky carefully lets the water dribble from his mouth into Zemo’s, stopping to allow him to swallow, their lips barely an inch apart. Zemo gasps as he swallows the last drop, licking his lips again and this time looking ever so slightly less uncomfortable, it wasn’t much but it was better than nothing after having his mouth stuffed with a dry rag all night.
“Cпасибо, солдат” Spasibo, soldat. Thank you, soldier. Zemo says his voice a barely audible rasp.
The Russian man relays the translation and the guard laughs at the display, but doesn’t question it, the soldier is keeping his handler alive.
“Ah so he does speak.” The guard says looking at Zemo. “Where are the files on the Winter Soldier programme?”
Zemo doesn’t respond.
“Soldier, slap him.” The man says next, Bucky doesn’t comply. “If you do not slap the words out of him I will have him killed do you understand soldier?”
Bucky nods his head down once to show he understands, before he gently tilts Zemo’s head back up. Zemo’s tired eyes are glazed but he still manages to give Bucky a look that screams ‘do it!’
Bucky draws back his right hand, trying to keep his left hand out of the way despite it still being cuffed to the other, and sharply slaps Zemo across the face, not with his full strength but strong enough to sting. Zemo doesn’t make a sound.
“Use the other hand soldat.” The man says mockingly, using the term Zemo had spoken to him just moments ago.
Bucky swallows and slowly tilts Zemo’s face back to the middle, draws back his hand and slaps him with an open vibranium palm, he uses even less strength, knows the metal hurts, Zemo’s skin splits on his cheekbone and fresh blood oozes over the dried gore on his face.
“Where are the files Baron?” Zemo still acts as if though no one is speaking. “Don’t want to speak? Well we can gag you again until you’re ready to talk.”
A guard readies another rag but the leader holds up his hand to stop him when he advances towards the prisoner.
“Not the kind I had in mind.” He says lowering his hand back down and fixing his gaze on Bucky, “Get yourself hard soldat.”
Bucky has to stop his eyes from widening at the remark, knows that they’ve heard the stories of how the Winter Soldier was used to torture people. He hears Zemo’s breathe stutter next to him, knows he’s heard the stories too, probably read all the files.
“The soldiers most successful interrogation technique was an even mix of humiliation and pain,” the man announces as if telling the room, but he’s probably just making sure Zemo knows what’s to come, “had many a man spilling their deepest, darkest secrets at the mercy of his hands…. And his cock, heeded more results than removing fingernails and cutting off toes did anyway. So let’s just skip straight to that.”
The guards raise their guns at Zemo again but Bucky hesitates too long, pretends the Winter Soldier is weighing up his options whether they’re bluffing or whether they’ll actually kill his handler.
“Calf.” The guard says and one of the men immediately shoots Zemo through the lower leg. He shouts out in shock and pain and it takes all of Bucky’s training not to drop his mask, he flinches at the noise but the guard seems to let it go as a reflex.
Zemo isn’t left to bleed out he’s immediately but crudely patched up, and he isn’t given any pain medication. The bullet went clean through, missing any major arteries so he won’t die from it but he’ll be in a lot of pain.
“Get yourself hard. Soldat.” The guard says again as Zemo’s wound is wrapped and the other men raise their guns to various limbs, showing they’ll do a more important one next.
Bucky clenches his jaw and tries not to show any emotion, he squeezes his hands into fists to stop them from shaking and when he doesn’t move fast enough the guard tilts his head and raises his eyebrows showing he’s about to give another order for another limb to shoot. Bucky quickly grasps himself through his combat trousers with his right hand, the left if it was flesh would be white knuckled by now with how hard he was clenching his fist, his hands still cuffed awkwardly together. He’s kneeling on the floor next to Zemo and turns himself away slightly as he rocks the heel of his palm against the front of his pants.
“Properly.” The guard says, “haven’t got all day.”
Zemo isn’t looking at him, slumped over with exhaustion, breathing shakily through his parted lips trying to ignore the amount of pain he must me in. He only keeps his eyes open because every time he shuts them for more than a few second he’s nudged with a baton, but they stare glassily at the floor in front of him.
Bucky unzips his pants and slides his hand inside, stroking himself in the confines of his boxers. He knows the soldier would easily be able to do this, the nature of being touched in such a way bringing him to full hardness simply without the need for mental stimulation as well. But Bucky’s horror at the thought he’s about to abuse the man sitting next to him isn’t helping, he tries hard not to remember the people he abused as the soldier, their pleas and screams ringing in his ears, tries to just focus on his bodies reaction to the feel of his hand to get hard and the serum will eventually take over and keep him that way.
It takes longer than it should but the guards don’t know the details of the soldier so they don’t seem suspicious. Zemo is grabbed by the hair and brought to his knees in front of Bucky, he struggles to stay upright and falls to his cuffed hands but is yanked back up again by the hand on the back of his head.
“Show him.” The guard says and Bucky pulls himself free of his pants, his cock almost fully erect, the serum didn’t enhance his size, but it did enhance his stamina and refractory period, the soldier was used to painfully humiliate and torture people for long periods of time without getting tired and Zemo knows this. When they lock eyes he still has the same determined look and Bucky tries hard not to break at the sight of the bloodied and broken man putting his trust in him to hold out until Sam can find them, when he is the one being tortured not Bucky.
They both know Sam will find them eventually Bucky just doesn’t know how far he’ll have to go before then, doesn’t know whether they’ll both be leaving alive, or just him, and Zemo knows that too.
“Gag him.” The man says and Zemo is pushed forward, Bucky can’t stop his reflexes when he grabs the guards wrist that’s holding Zemo’s head.
“Позволь мне!” Pozvol’ mne! Let me! Bucky growls and doesn’t let up until he feels the man loosen his grip on Zemo.
Zemo opens his mouth and allows Bucky to slowly push him down onto his cock, waiting for him to adjust but making sure he sinks the whole way, knowing that the guards will accept no less. He can feel Zemo trying to relax his throat and he gags, Bucky stops for a second, let’s Zemo breathe through his noise a few times before pushing again until the man’s nose is nestled in his trimmed pubic hair.
It doesn’t feel good, the act itself should feel arousing but it doesn’t, the wet warmth of being nestled in Zemo’s throat feels like it’s mocking him, you’ve thought about this haven’t you Bucky and look what you’ve done to get it. He shakes the negative self thought out of his head, he didn’t ask for this, doesn’t want it, doesn’t want to hurt Zemo, they’re having to do this to survive and the look in Zemo’s eyes before sinking face first into his crotch was one of determination and trust.
Zemo breathes deeply through his nose and gags again as he tries to get used to the position, his hands are clasped under him between Bucky’s legs and he grasps the soldiers knee as he fights the urge to pull back. Both of Bucky’s hands are holding Zemo’s head and he brushes his thumb soothingly behind Zemo’s ear, the one the guards can’t see, trying to say, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, with every minuscule stroke of his thumb. Zemo finally relaxes, the urge to wretch stops and he gets his breathing even through his nose, he has to hold himself in a way that means he won’t choke but his already exhausted body is shaking with the effort. Bucky moves one hand as far as he can in the chains from his head to his chest to take Zemo’s weight and he lets out a little choked sob around Bucky’s cock in his throat at the slight relief.
“I’m going on lunch, I’ll check back in an hour.” The man says, taking half the guards with him, 3 men swap out with the 3 that had been pointing their guns at Zemo to allow them to rest and half go for lunch.
Zemo closes his eyes and Bucky feels more of the other man’s weight rest on the hand on his chest. He gladly takes it.
Half an hour later some of the guards came back to relieve the others but not the leader, one laughs at the mess of Zemo still hunched over Bucky’s cock. He had dribbled saliva over the front of the soldiers pants, unable to stop it from trickling out as trying to swallow makes him gag. He’d tried to wipe his chin to avoid the mess but Bucky had stopped him by stroking behind his ear again, he didn’t care about a bit of spit, Zemo needed to stay still to conserve energy and stop from choking, not worry about whether he was making a mess of the front of Bucky’s pants. His eyes were watering and his breathes were coming more shallowly through his nose, he kept squirming on his knees, his legs hurting from the position, but every time he moved he winced from the pain of the bullet wound. Bucky was used to kneeling for long periods of time as the soldier but the position was still unpleasant.
Another half an hour passed and the leader finally came back, he scoffed at the sight before him.
“Don’t hold him up soldier, he’s a big boy he can support himself.” The man says and Bucky slowly lowers his hands to the ground, Zemo gags and he can feel his muscles shaking against him. The Barons cuffed hands hold himself up and the chains rattle with the effort.
“Ah well… Maybe he can’t. Where are the files we need?” He asks again and another man drags Zemo off of Bucky’s cock the action making him wretch, dry heaving against the floor he doesn’t answer even after composing himself. His eyes are unfocused as he lays panting on the floor and Bucky doesn’t know how he hasn’t passed out from exhaustion yet.
“Gag him again.” The man says and Zemo’s hoisted back up but this time he’s left for Bucky to put him back where he was. This time Zemo doesn’t look him in the eye just opens his mouth and waits.
Bucky is allowed to hold him up as Zemo clearly comes in and out of consciousness, he’s started gagging less with Bucky’s cock in his throat and he has to keep checking the other man is still breathing when he’s still for too long and his breathes too shallow to detect. When Zemo has been fully unconscious for twenty minutes he’s tapped by a guard with a baton to the shoulder, he doesn’t wake up. They’re splashed with a bucket of water, luckily not freezing as Bucky thinks Zemo would choke to death with the soldiers cock in his throat if he woke up to that shock, he jolts awake and immediately wretches, fingers clutching at Bucky’s knees and the soldier holds him steady so he doesn’t choke.
“Cum down his throat, he clearly needs the sustenance.” The man says almost bored.
“я не могу. не так” Ya ne mogu. ne tak. I can’t. Not this way. Bucky growls out.
“He implies he can’t cum like this.” The Russian guard says.
Zemo is tapped with the baton again to rouse him to a more alert state.
“Get him off. Make your Soldat cum.” The guard says and the next hit with the baton is much harder, Zemo groans and the vibration makes Bucky’s cock twitch.
Zemo must have noticed because he does it again, pulling up slightly so he can wrap a hand around the base of Bucky’s cock and lick at the head sloppily. Bucky wants to cum quickly, to not prolong this. He tries to clear his mind, focus on the hand and mouth on him, but the smell of the room assaults his nostrils the damp air and tang of blood, sweat and piss hits the back of his throat. He tries to imagine someone other than Zemo but can’t, hasn’t had a crush since before the war and hasn’t thought about it long enough to know what he finds attractive anymore. Didn’t think he deserved to love or be loved, after everything he’d done, and here he was doing it again, even with free will this time.
He feels more guilty as Zemo groans again, his tongue circling the head of his cock, pressing into the slit lapping up the precum, his hand working what his mouth no longer covers, skilled, calloused fingers jerking him off. He tries to picture Zemo enjoying himself, wanting to suck Bucky’s cock, wanting to be on his knees for him, moaning in pleasure instead of groaning in pain. It almost becomes easy to imagine when Zemo sucks the head of his cock like he’s always yearned to taste him.
“You’re too gentle with your handler Soldat, fuck his throat.” Bucky glares at the man but feels Zemo’s hand slip from his cock, holding himself upright so Bucky can thrust up into his mouth, giving him permission.
Bucky starts slow and shallow as to not choke him, holding Zemo’s head still in both hands, carefully manoeuvring the chains around his wrists to the behind his neck so they don’t smack Zemo in the face with every thrust.
Zemo doesn’t gag this time, takes every thrust into his throat and groans as though he’s in pain but Bucky knows it’s to help him cum, the vibrations making his toes curl and his balls tighten. Tears are streaming down Zemo’s face and more saliva is sliding down his chin, and Bucky tries in vain to picture him enjoying himself but the bloodied mess of Zemo’s face does nothing but make him want to sob. He clenches his eyes shut, feels Zemo’s fingers digging into his thigh urging him on, he picks up his pace and Zemo makes little whining noises with every thrust of Bucky’s cock and if he tries hard enough Bucky can pretend they’re pleasurable noises. Finally his rhythm becomes uncoordinated and he jerks twice before he spills down Zemo’s throat, the other man swallowing around him.
He pulls Zemo off and allows him to slump to the floor before sitting back, trying to stuff his still hard cock back in his pants before the guard can notice. Zemo’s eyes are closed and he lay panting before his breathing evens out and Bucky realises he’s passed out again.
Bucky’s disgusted at himself and he tries not to show it on his face, schools his features to his bionic stare. Knows they’re not finished, knows this is only the start and his heart drops at the sight of the bloodied and bruised man lying at his feet. Zemo is struck with the baton again and he jerks awake before his eyes rolls back and he blacks out again.
“Leave him. In 30 minutes wake him again, give him some water and a protein shake, we need him at least somewhat lucid if he’s going to tell us where the files are.”
Bucky watches Zemo sleep for half an hour, making sure he’s still breathing, his cock has finally gone soft and he can feel the cum and saliva dried to his thigh, reminding him of what he did.
After Zemo has been roused again he is given water and made to drink a grey looking protein shake, they give him time so he doesn’t vomit it back up immediately but the food and water does little to help him apart from manage to keep him from passing out. Bucky doesn’t know what time it is but his internal body clock tells him it’s almost evening again, he was given solid food and water and allowed a break to relieve himself. He refuses to look down at his own cock as he pees, not wanting to remember Zemo’s bloodied lips stretched around him. He’s still not given any time alone even when pissing so can’t let his mask drop.
“Where are the files?” The man asks again after some time and Zemo ignores him once more.
Zemo knee is struck with the baton and he winces but doesn’t make a noise.
“The files?” Zemo ignores him again, the other knee is hit with the baton, “I’ll make your Soldat fuck you.”
Zemo huffs out a small laugh and Bucky doesn’t know why, that’s the only time he’s ever acknowledged anything the other man has said, and the guard doesn’t take kindly to the noise.
“On your hands and knees.” He says and Zemo complies shakily holding himself up on his bruised knees and cuffed hands. A guard comes over and unchains his ankles, kicking his feet apart, Zemo winces, the bullet wound clearly being aggravated. The man reaches around and undoes Zemo’s pants before tugging them and his briefs roughly down to his knees. His backside is bruised from earlier beatings and his limp cock hangs between his thighs.
“Soldat.” The man says and Bucky knows he hasn’t got a choice, not unless he wants a bullet in Zemo’s other leg, or worse.
He undoes his own pants and pulls himself out, working his hand back over his flaccid dick. Once again he tries to imagine Zemo wanting to be taken by him, it’s not like he hadn’t thought of it before, he hadn’t meant to, tried not to even, but something in Zemo, the way his natural demeanour was flirtatious, had Bucky thinking things he hadn’t allowed himself to in a long time. And as they had grown closer, become more friendly he hadn’t found it odd when his mind wandered to what it would be like if Zemo’s compliments and cheeky jibes were genuine. When he tells Bucky he’s looking strong after a sparring session what that voice would sound like whispering into his ear as Zemo rocks into him from behind, he hadn’t thought about it too much, hadn’t wanted to make their previously strained relationship awkward, but he had thought about it.
But the way the purple bruises blossom across Zemo’s thighs and ass make it more difficult to trick himself. He imagines burying his face in between the other man’s cheeks, stuffing him full of him tongue but knows they won’t be getting any prep for this, but let’s the image help him along the way. His cock finally fills out and he shuffles towards Zemo who visibly tenses and Bucky hopes it’s for show.
Bucky stuffs two fingers in his own mouth and sucks but is stopped by the guards shout.
“No.” He says with a huff. “You know how this goes soldier, you’ve done it before.”
Bucky drops his hands back to his cock, lining himself up with Zemo’s hole, other hand on the man’s lower back, the chains pulled taut to allow one hand on himself and one hand on Zemo. He can feel him trying to relax beneath the warmth of his flesh palm, Bucky makes a show of spitting on Zemo’s ass and rubbing the head of his cock in it to smear it around his hole.
“Stop playing games.” The guard all but shouts and Bucky hears the noise of guns readying.
Bucky squeezes Zemo’s hip to warn him, he feels him try to relax his muscles then quickly pushes the tip of his cock into Zemo’s unprepared hole. He’s met with resistance until the head pops through the ring of muscle and the man beneath him chokes out in pain.
“Get on with it.” The guard says sounding utterly bored now and Bucky squeezes Zemo’s hip again before ramming in to the hilt, his balls slapping against Zemo’s backside and the Baron jerks forward, crying out in pain before clenching his jaw shut and muffling the noise.
He tries to allow Zemo time to adjust but the sound of guns being raised at the clearing of the guards throat makes him pull back out almost all the way. Zemo lets out a shuddering breath as he tries to prepare for Bucky pushing back in, he tries to make it look more forceful than it is but he can tell the guard is quickly growing annoyed.
“Harder.” The man says and Bucky holds Zemo’s hips a little tighter so he can thrust harder, Zemo’s jolted forward, his knees scrapping the floor and Bucky is glad they didn’t strip him completely for this so his legs are still protected somewhat by his pants.
“Ruin him.” The man says and Bucky holds back a distressed sob, covering it by clenching he jaw shut in concentration and grimacing, he thrusts harder, hand fisting in Zemo’s sweater, pulling it up and exposing more long baton shaped bruises up his back.
Zemo cries out again when Bucky picks up the pace and he falls forward, his cuffed hands trapped under his chest so his cheek scrapes along the floor, Bucky tries to pull him back up but the guard tuts. Zemo shields his face in the crook of his elbow but his arms still drag painfully across the floor with every thrust. Zemo is whimpering now and Bucky can see blood on his cock every time he pulls out, little Ah’s of distress punched out of the man below him with every stab of his dick.
Bucky tries to concentrate on cumming, if he cums this can be over, he imagines the noises Zemo is making are pleasurable, really focuses, remembers how he looked before his face was covered in blood, thought about the last time Zemo had thrown a compliment his way, trying to get the aloof soldier to blush, he liked riling him up these days but with flirting rather than manipulation. Remembered Zemo looking at him over a steaming cup of tea a few mornings ago, the sun was streaming in through the window as they ate breakfast and Bucky could feel it on his face, he turned towards it closing his eyes in contentment, when he opened his eyes Zemo was looking at him with a small smile.
“Your eyes are truly breathtaking, you do know that don’t you?” He had said as if Bucky should have been told that every day until he believed it, deserved to be told every day after that too.
Bucky remembers that Zemo, confident and intense, not this one, bloodied and bruised and whimpering. He imagines taking him to bed and fucking him till he cry’s with pleasure not pain, skews the sounds the man beneath him is making into moans and finally cums in his ass. He hears Zemo gasp beneath him as his cock throbs inside him, filling him up again. He pulls out and Zemo slumps to the side, shuddering out a wracked sob and Bucky thinks he might be sick. He wills himself to calm down he can’t blow their cover, not now, not after all of this. He tucks his thankfully limp dick back in his pants ignoring the pink tinged cum smearing inside his boxers and sits and waits for the next horrors to begin.
He hears ringing in his ears and it takes him a while to notice it’s not a panic attack as debris settles around him but the aftermath of a bomb blowing the side wall in. Bucky’s fight instinct kicks in when he realises what’s going on and grabs the guard closest to him breaking his neck immediately, not caring that he’d just killed a man, Raynor can be disappointed in him later. He wraps his chained wrists around the next guards throat before they can catch their bearings and chokes them to death. When he’s fighting the last guard standing he notices Sam carefully redressing Zemo who is still lying on the floor, he breaks this guards neck so forcefully his head is nearly taken clean off of his body, hanging by a few strings of flesh and muscle.
Sam looks up at him then, Bucky’s practically foaming at the mouth with rage panting harshly until he looks down at Zemo, who has passed out again, likely giving up now he knows they’re safe, and Bucky breaks down and cries. He falls to his knees cradling his head in his hands and cries so hard he thinks he might actually vomit this time, he quickly composes himself, they’re not out yet and Zemo is the one that’s been tortured not him, even though inflicting such cruelty on the man, his friend, was torture in itself. He tries to help Sam lift Zemo onto a stretcher but he’s pulled away by another agent, he watches as he’s carried out of the basement, while the agents around him discuss whether or not it’s safe to unchain him.