ʜᴇʟᴍᴜᴛ ᴢᴇᴍᴏ-ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱ (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} sokovian) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} crownplazaic,@ 2021-07-01 00:29:00 |
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| Entry tags: | !log/thread, baron zemo, bucky barnes |
Who: Bucky & Zemo.
Where: Zemo's room.
When: Backdated, 6/25.
What: Mostly chatting.
Status: Completed.
Warnings: Mild spice.
While Bucky had been quiet, Zemo had maintained his distance. He didn't call, he didn't text. Didn't ask his bodyguard to come over and perform silly, meaningless tasks, purely for the sake of seeing him. Instead of stirring the pot and intentionally causing drama (as he had a tendency to do when he was bored), Zemo had dutifully kept to himself.
He wasn't particularly worried. Bucky had told him that he'd come find him when he had news. And Zemo - maybe foolishly - wholeheartedly believed him. What sort of news did the baron expect? Certainly not the good kind.
Even so, Zemo had a plan.
Bucky had also told him that he didn't want to make a promise he couldn't keep. Which was ominous and vague, but Zemo had a relatively firm guess as to what that promise might be. And there was no way in the world Steve Rogers was going to grant him that wish.
But if Steve Rogers had the power to draw lines in the sand, then so did Zemo. And if Rogers was going to be unreasonably hostile towards him for what had happened between himself and Bucky, then the baron had every intention of drawing a few lines himself. He wouldn't make a fuss for the right to make out with the soldier again (because that would be awfully childish), but Zemo would fight to stay in Bucky's life in some capacity. Even if it was just to do those silly, meaningless tasks.
It was nearly nightfall when Zemo heard a knock at his door. Zemo already did not receive too many visitors, so having someone come see him this late was definitely odd.
And by 'someone', Zemo knew it was Bucky before he ever opened his door. He had familiarized himself with that particular fist pound very early on. He closed his book and set it aside, crossing the room in order to let the other man in.
"James?"
Bucky had both his hands behind his back by the time Zemo opened his room door. The brunette knew it was late. He'd come anyway. It'd been days since he'd told Zemo to wait for him. He'd stayed true to his word and been patient. Bucky was surprised but pleased. He had heard promises before. What a person did and said were sometimes two very different things. That was one piece of previous knowledge that Zemo had in his favor; his behavior was consistent. What he said, he would do. It was sometimes the things that Zemo didn't say that got under his skin too.
He looked the other man over out of habit. His focus slowed when it reached the other man's face. The use of his first name still felt strange to hear, even though Zemo had used it already a dozen times. Bucky tried a small grin.
"Can I come in?"
Zemo had the look of a man who knew what was coming. In fairness, Bucky was shocked himself that Steve hadn't drawn that deep line in the sand between them. Instead, he'd allowed a bridge. Specifically, a drawbridge that he controlled. And Bucky was honestly okay with that. He had no idea what he was doing. What they were going to do. He knew what he couldn't do yet so that was a start, right?
He cleared his throat and pulled out his good hand to hold a small white-and-yellow flower. Bucky assumed all the plants around the hotel were native to Scotland and he knew this one in particular was common in that country but for the life of him, he couldn't remember what it was called. But they were pretty and it had reminded him of Zemo oddly enough. Lifting it up, he twirled it between his fingers. "I bring a gift?"
A gift?
..a flower?
It might have seemed funny on the surface, giving someone like Baron Zemo a flower. People in charge of kill squads didn't normally have much of a soft side.
But Zemo did. When he wasn't out on missions with EKO Scorpion, he'd been a devoted husband and proud father. He'd kept his wife's voice mail messages long after she'd died, just to listen to her voice. Any reminder of his family, he had kept. So maybe, beneath that cool, composed exterior, Zemo did have warmer emotions. And for a brief second, he bothered to show it. He took the flower, nodding at Bucky and stepping out of the way, giving him space to enter. "Thank you. Would you like some tea?"
If Bucky was bringing him a gift, it reaffirmed what he already knew. It was bad news and Bucky just wanted to soften the blow. Which was unnecessary, but sweet. "I stole a few boxes from the kitchen pantry, so if you're tired of cherry blossom, I have a few others, if you're interested."
One flower. Not even a bouquet. As far as gifts went, this one was rather small. But it was also resilient and beautiful on its own. Like a certain Sokovian gentleman Bucky knew.
He stepped inside and immediately shoved his hands into his pockets. The memory he had of the last time he'd been in Zemo's room was fresh at the front of his mind, especially now as he walked down the little hall and into the open room. He unconsciously licked his lips. "Tea sounds nice," the words rushed out. "I like the cherry stuff. But, uh, you don't have to make a pot if you were going to bed soon."
When he came further into the room, he realized that he'd interrupted Zemo reading. He took a brief look at the title. "That one any good?" Bucky asked, pretending like he wasn't putting anything off. The stupid part was that he knew Zemo would know he was procrastinating so what was the point? That maybe Zemo would just go along with it and they'd just sit and enjoy tea over idle chit-chat for the next hour? Bucky knew how Zemo liked to talk...
"You ever press flowers? You know, keep 'em in a book so they last?"
Zemo didn't mind the small talk or making tea. He didn't mind the fact that Bucky was avoiding the reason for his visit, either. The baron liked the company and honestly, he wasn't overly eager to hear that bad news. It was nice to have five minutes of normalcy, even if it didn't feel completely authentic.
"My book?" Zemo moved to heat some water, briefly glancing over his shoulder at what he'd been reading. "Oh, it's one of those erotic novels. Scandalous love affairs, masochistic themes. BDSM. Pretty kinky stuff." The baron couldn't stop himself from cracking a smile as he looked at the soldier. Bucky wasn't here to be flirted with. But that wouldn't stop Zemo from throwing inappropriate comments his way.
"I'm just kidding. It's a book on gardening. So I'd say your gift is well-timed. There's probably not a tutorial on flower-pressing, but I'm sure I could figure it out."
Once the tea had been prepared, Zemo took one of the mugs, bringing it over to Bucky. Those brown eyes met with the other man's face, his tone just as calm as ever as he asked, "Are you going to keep me waiting in suspense all night?"
Erotic, huh? Bucky waited until Zemo was turned towards the tea again before coming a bit closer to take another peek at the book. He touched it, flipping up the hardcover and leafing through the pages. Bucky wouldn’t say that he was all that into ‘kinks’ but he was open-minded. Maybe there was something he hadn’t tried that he might like.
By the time Zemo confessed to the true nature of the novel, Bucky had already come to that conclusion. The photographs of different gardens and tools and plants were kind of a giveaway. He still went through a few more pages before letting the book close again. “My sister likes to garden.”
Bucky didn’t wait to blow on the tea before trying his first sip. It burned but in the way he needed to distract himself from the question at hand. He did smirk though, catching Zemo’s gaze and sending him a wink over the rim of his cup. “Not all night.”
But after two careful sips, he lowered the mug and took a seat in one of the chairs. “There’s going to be rules,” Bucky finally let out.
There was an amused smile on his face over that wink. Even if he couldn't touch Bucky anymore, no one could stop Zemo from admiring him from afar. Because Bucky was a thing of beauty and deserved to be appreciated. Zemo then trailed back over to the table, collecting his own mug. He didn't expect this to be a very long discussion, but the baron was set on getting comfortable all the same.
He didn't sit. He preferred to stand when having serious conversations. It helped him think, helped him process what was being said. So he leaned his hip against one of the dressers, his full attention on Bucky.
It was then the other man's words reached him, causing Zemo to frown. He had been anticipating something along the lines of, 'we have to keep this professional' or 'I can only see you when it's necessary'. Not.. something about rules. The baron cocked his head to the side. What did that even mean? "Rules for what?"
Zemo wasn’t sitting down. Was that a power move? Bucky grinned as he watched Zemo make himself comfortable not too far away. The room itself was large but Zemo was still close enough that Bucky had to arch his neck back a little so he could look at him better.
It was difficult not to admire the other man’s appearance. Even before, Bucky noticed how Zemo liked to dress down to the last stitch with perfection. How he managed to keep his shirts looking iron-fresh and soft while Bucky barely managed to keep his own clothes wrinkle-free. He imagined that Zemo put that much effort into every aspect of his life.
When it was too obvious that he’d been spending the last five minutes checking Zemo out, Bucky turned to his tea before responding. “For you and me. Whatever that becomes. Or not becomes.” He made a face, the uncertainty over the situation bothering him a little, and he ran a hand through his hair. “You know almost better than anyone that I come with baggage. There’s ….strings. And Steve. He doesn’t like the situation but he’s open to letting things …or seeing how they might develop.”
Maybe he was taking this too seriously. Bucky fiddled with the mug. “He thinks you’re only doing this to mess with my head.” He lifted his gaze back to Zemo. “Are you?”
Zemo was quiet for a moment. He desperately, desperately wished he could have been there for that conversation. What the hell had Bucky said to Steve in order for him to even consider this to be an option?
Zemo never would have permitted his wife to run around with other people, even when he was away for an extended amount of time. So hearing that Steve was allowing this was, frankly, a bit of a shock. But what surprised Zemo even more was that Bucky was pushing for.. this. That he had asked in the first place.
He shook off that stunned expression, trying to regain his composure.
"I can see why Rogers might think that. The only time he ever knew me was when I was using you to achieve my goals. But I'd like to think that you know better than that." Zemo took a step closer, sipping his tea. "In the beginning, I was toying with your mind. I did enjoy testing you and seeing where your limits were. But I've also come to respect that mind of yours. So no, James. I'm not doing this just to screw with your head."
Zemo inched ever closer, his eyes darkening as he added, "That being said, what I want from you is not severely complicated." Hopefully, Bucky could gather what Zemo meant by that. "So. What are these rules?"
Bucky’s memory was shit but that day was pretty burned into his brain. Between Steve tracking him down to his shoddy apartment in Bucharest to Zemo slipping past SHIELD security and activating him to cover his escape, it had been a wild couple of hours. “It wasn’t that long ago you pretended to be my therapist, was it?” His voice was full of humor. Zemo had said it hadn’t been personal, after all. It had taken him awhile but Bucky was starting to believe that.
Even if it had been a little personal. Again, Bucky was reminded of the small somehow easily forgotten fact that at one point Zemo had been a family man. He’d experienced a great loss. Remembering that always had Bucky’s insides go soft.
And hearing Zemo’s bedroom voice come out had him hard. He shifted in the chair, like that was going to make it less obvious. That he’d only been in Zemo’s presence for barely ten minutes and already he was getting flustered and turned-on. Screw with his head? Nah. “But you are looking to get screwed with.” Bucky knew exactly what Zemo meant. His own blue eyes met with Zemo’s dark brown ones as he imagined what that might be like. How quickly could he pull those cute little noises he’d gotten last time out of him when they’d kissed?
He set the mug on the table, now empty. Which was a pity because now that he had those thoughts in his head, his mouth had gone dry. “Our room, Steve’s and mine, that’s off-limits. We take things slow for now. And you’re on Steve’s watchlist. Which i’m sure you would assume but I had a feeling you’d still be amused to hear it. If he thinks you’re out of line, well, just don’t be out of line and you can play with your new toy.” Bucky pointed at himself. “Me. I’m the toy. You have to play nice.”
Stay out of their room? Take things slow? Be surveyed by Steve Rogers? There had to be more to it than that. It couldn't be that easy. There had to be a catch.
Then again, Zemo wasn't lying when he claimed that his wants were simple. Perhaps, Rogers would be making more of a fuss if he thought that Zemo was trying to start another war. The baron had no desire to take Bucky away from Steve. Zemo wasn't looking to get married and have another family. No, what he wanted from Bucky was, in comparison, quite shallow. This wasn't to say that he didn't care about Bucky in some capacity. He'd be absolutely lying if he claimed he felt nothing for his dear soldat.
..but at the same time, he wasn't pushing to stick a label on anything.
Zemo still didn't understand why Rogers was being so passive. But he also didn't really care enough to think too deeply on the matter. He set his mug aside, his expression airing on the side of smug.
"And what, exactly, counts as out of line?" Zemo paused, leaning over the chair that Bucky was sitting in. He reached out, his hands taking the armrests, caging his new toy in. "And what of you, James? What.. rules do you have for me?" He leaned in a little more, his nose just barely brushing against Bucky's. "Other than.. playing nice?"
The rules might have sounded simple but Bucky planned on sticking to them like glue. Bucky hadn't said that his boyfriend would be stalking Zemo. Just that he would be keeping a close eye on him. Or maybe Steve did plan on doing a bit of surveillance. Hell, Bucky would even join him if he was. It was only fair. Zemo had spent months watching all of them. Turnabout was fair play.
...James?
He narrowed his eyes and tried to stop it but something electric still ran up his spine. Every goddamn time Zemo used his first name in that thick accent, it was a weird sort of pleasure. There were only a few who still used it. Technically, it was his name. But the way that the other man wrapped it around his tongue felt like it was a pretty Christmas package all done up with string delivered personally for his ears alone.
Here Zemo came to invade his space. Bucky didn't try to pretend as though he didn't like that a little. Especially now that he knew more about what the other man's intentions were, shallow or not. Bucky didn't want labels either. He didn't even know what this was between them yet. There was no point in putting pressure on something that had only just started.
"Don't be a dick. Unless you're being cute about it."
Bucky lounged more in the chair, spreading himself out so that his legs went between Zemo's. And he grabbed him by the front of his shirt, pulling him down as he sank further in. "Be honest with me. If you want out, then just say so. Don't draw anything out if you think you've gotten bored with me."
Zemo made a noise as Bucky pulled him down; some mix of surprise and delight. After which, he'd get settled, hiking his thighs open wider and making himself comfortable upon the other man's lap. His hands abandoned the armrests, now seeking out Bucky's chest.
"I can't say there will never be secrets between us. My business is still my own, and I won't go meddling into your life, either. But when you're here with me, in my room, I am not going to lie to you. It's true, I've kept things from you before. But this is different. This is not a mission. This is very personal. I wouldn't string you along for the hell of it. That would be in bad taste, and we both know how I feel about that."
Zemo's flirtatious tone briefly fell into more serious territory. He leaned away, almost as if he'd suddenly become wary. "Why are you doing this? Why strain your relationship with Rogers for my sake?"
The air was different between them. It was lighter. Playful. Zemo had been making certain remarks and giving him coy looks from start. Just because he was over a hundred, didn't mean he was blind. His eyesight was as good as ever. He'd caught Zemo glancing at his mouth more times than he wanted to admit. Maybe his own eyes had dipped a few times themselves. But that had been as far as he'd allowed himself to react. Even when the flirting became downright blatant. But now, Bucky was flirting a little back.
Why?
It was Bucky's turn now to be surprised. He let out a small laugh, then reached up to play with Zemo's hair. The back of his metal fingers brushed over his ear. "I think a small part of me likes you." Why else would he be willing to risk what he had? It wasn't a hard question. Bucky could see how Zemo would question that though, given how he'd behaved in the past. He ran a little hot and cold, didn't he? Acting completely uninterested one minute and then the next, after one little kiss (okay more than one), he was changing his tune.
But then the attraction had been there before.
He trailed vibranium fingers lightly under his cheek and to his chin. "Oh, so now it's personal?" Bucky smirked, unable to stop himself from the teasing Zemo a little. "Yeah, well I'd hate to make you do anything in bad taste. Although I'm about as unclassy as they come. But maybe that's why you like me."
A small part of me likes you.
To some, this explanation might not have been enough. It was clear that Bucky was still prioritizing Steve, but there was no way this wasn't stressing the previous Captain America out and causing him to doubt the man he was in a relationship with. There must have been another element at play here, because Zemo truly did not believe he was worth the trouble that Bucky was going through.
But, again, as much as he actually respected Steve Rogers, Zemo didn't really care about the fate of Steve and Bucky's relationship. And if Bucky was willing to rock the boat just because he wanted to get laid, well. Zemo wasn't going to argue with that.
He smiled, his demeanor slipping right back into complacent. "You have the potential to be classy. Especially when you let me dress you." Zemo's hands moved further down Bucky's chest, all the way to the hem of his shirt. Fingertips nudged their way beneath the fabric, feeling the warmth of Bucky's stomach. Bucky had never elaborated on what he meant by 'take it slow'. And since Zemo was the 'ask for forgiveness, not permission' type, he decided he'd see where that line was the fun way.
"Though, I don't think you've ever let me undress you." Zemo rocked his hips into Bucky's; a means of distraction as his hands migrated further, pushing his shirt up and exposing his abdomen. "That could be enjoyable, too."
It was simple. It was complicated. All of it was kind of a mess in his head. Bucky had gone most of his life keeping his feelings for his best friend close to his chest. When Steve had left, he’d been lost and hurt. Moving on had seemed impossible. He tried for appearances sake, because it was something he was supposed to do (and Bucky was great at pretending). Trying to deal with those buried emotions with Zemo around had been difficult. Especially when the other man liked to keep reminding him of his past.
But they’d come out the end of the tunnel with a little more respect for each other than either of them probably anticipated. And a little something more.
Bucky lifted an eyebrow as he glanced down to where Zemo’s hands had moved down his chest. He didn’t stop him. Or even move to try. Slow was the opposite his body wanted to do right now but he’d promised. Zemo would know the line when he got to it. Until then, Bucky allowed the roaming hands. He moved his legs a little, gliding them against Zemo’s. The friction didn’t help his physical desire disappear but it was enough for now to satiate it.
“You have style. I’ll give you that.” Bucky glanced towards the closet that he’d helped to fill a few times too many. He suddenly felt Zemo move down into him with very clear physical intent and his focus snapped back like a rubber band. There was no chance that Zemo hadn’t been able to feel how hard he was when he’d done that. Bucky had to bite his lip to hold in the moan that had tried to escape. “If you do that again-“ his threat was cut off when hands snuck under his shirt and he felt the cool air of the room tickle his stomach.
Quickly, his hands went for Zemo’s and pulled them back to the arms of the chair, pinning them there. Bucky had to control his breathing or else he wouldn’t be able to control the rest of himself. He inhaled through his nose a few times. Still, he had to grin because damnit, a little tummy tickle shouldn’t have lit him up like that. “Looks like the line is a bit closer than I thought. I … I don’t think I’ll be able to stop if we go further than this.”
"Mm, well. I don't want to stop." Those brown eyes were bright with desire. He rolled his hips a second time, though with far less force this time. Zemo was simultaneously teasing and testing the waters, curious to see just how much Bucky was willing to let him get away with. Because that was the fun of this little game they were playing, wasn't it? Zemo would push and push until Bucky eventually gave in.
And yet, at the same time, Zemo had meant it when he told Bucky that he was not trying to toy with his mind. If the baron was really set on it, he knew he could coax Bucky into fucking him. If that sizable bulge was anything to judge off of, Zemo was very certain that it wouldn't take much convincing.
Zemo may not have admitted it out loud, but he didn't want to corrupt whatever trust existed between them. If Bucky wasn't ready to get physically intimate, then the baron had no choice but to pump the brakes. He gave an audible sigh of disappointment and stopped rubbing his crotch against that bump in Bucky's pants. "But I suppose this is what you meant by 'behave', isn't it?"
A rhetorical question. He knew the answer to that one. Zemo didn't fight to free himself from Bucky's grip. He simply remained where he was, his expression softening. "I look forward to the day where you let me do more than that. Would it be too much to ask you to stay a little longer?"
The second wave of torture was much worse. Bucky’s eyes fluttered and his fingers tightened like a vice around Zemo’s wrists.
It was hard to keep the fire low when Zemo kept stirring it up. But it felt good and Bucky couldn’t resist giving a little playful thrust of his hips up into the other man. Nothing close to what he wanted to do, which was close to tearing off every bit of fancy and expensive piece of clothing off the other man and fucking him on the floor ...but this would have to do.
“Maybe this can be an exercise in delayed gratification,” Bucky was able to smoothly get out in a husky voice after he’d gathered his wits back. The grip he had on the other men lessened and he even pulled Zemo’s hands back to his chest. He turned their hands until he could curl his fingers with Zemo’s and held them.
“I can stay a little while.” He’d obviously made himself comfortable in the chair and with Zemo nestled snugly in his lap, yeah. Bucky wasn’t moving any time soon. He nudged his nose into Zemo’s chin and then snuck a kiss underneath before leaning back and grinning up at him. “Tell me what you’ve been reading. Teach me about gardening.”
He wasn't particularly worried. Bucky had told him that he'd come find him when he had news. And Zemo - maybe foolishly - wholeheartedly believed him. What sort of news did the baron expect? Certainly not the good kind.
Even so, Zemo had a plan.
Bucky had also told him that he didn't want to make a promise he couldn't keep. Which was ominous and vague, but Zemo had a relatively firm guess as to what that promise might be. And there was no way in the world Steve Rogers was going to grant him that wish.
But if Steve Rogers had the power to draw lines in the sand, then so did Zemo. And if Rogers was going to be unreasonably hostile towards him for what had happened between himself and Bucky, then the baron had every intention of drawing a few lines himself. He wouldn't make a fuss for the right to make out with the soldier again (because that would be awfully childish), but Zemo would fight to stay in Bucky's life in some capacity. Even if it was just to do those silly, meaningless tasks.
It was nearly nightfall when Zemo heard a knock at his door. Zemo already did not receive too many visitors, so having someone come see him this late was definitely odd.
And by 'someone', Zemo knew it was Bucky before he ever opened his door. He had familiarized himself with that particular fist pound very early on. He closed his book and set it aside, crossing the room in order to let the other man in.
"James?"
Bucky had both his hands behind his back by the time Zemo opened his room door. The brunette knew it was late. He'd come anyway. It'd been days since he'd told Zemo to wait for him. He'd stayed true to his word and been patient. Bucky was surprised but pleased. He had heard promises before. What a person did and said were sometimes two very different things. That was one piece of previous knowledge that Zemo had in his favor; his behavior was consistent. What he said, he would do. It was sometimes the things that Zemo didn't say that got under his skin too.
He looked the other man over out of habit. His focus slowed when it reached the other man's face. The use of his first name still felt strange to hear, even though Zemo had used it already a dozen times. Bucky tried a small grin.
"Can I come in?"
Zemo had the look of a man who knew what was coming. In fairness, Bucky was shocked himself that Steve hadn't drawn that deep line in the sand between them. Instead, he'd allowed a bridge. Specifically, a drawbridge that he controlled. And Bucky was honestly okay with that. He had no idea what he was doing. What they were going to do. He knew what he couldn't do yet so that was a start, right?
He cleared his throat and pulled out his good hand to hold a small white-and-yellow flower. Bucky assumed all the plants around the hotel were native to Scotland and he knew this one in particular was common in that country but for the life of him, he couldn't remember what it was called. But they were pretty and it had reminded him of Zemo oddly enough. Lifting it up, he twirled it between his fingers. "I bring a gift?"
A gift?
..a flower?
It might have seemed funny on the surface, giving someone like Baron Zemo a flower. People in charge of kill squads didn't normally have much of a soft side.
But Zemo did. When he wasn't out on missions with EKO Scorpion, he'd been a devoted husband and proud father. He'd kept his wife's voice mail messages long after she'd died, just to listen to her voice. Any reminder of his family, he had kept. So maybe, beneath that cool, composed exterior, Zemo did have warmer emotions. And for a brief second, he bothered to show it. He took the flower, nodding at Bucky and stepping out of the way, giving him space to enter. "Thank you. Would you like some tea?"
If Bucky was bringing him a gift, it reaffirmed what he already knew. It was bad news and Bucky just wanted to soften the blow. Which was unnecessary, but sweet. "I stole a few boxes from the kitchen pantry, so if you're tired of cherry blossom, I have a few others, if you're interested."
One flower. Not even a bouquet. As far as gifts went, this one was rather small. But it was also resilient and beautiful on its own. Like a certain Sokovian gentleman Bucky knew.
He stepped inside and immediately shoved his hands into his pockets. The memory he had of the last time he'd been in Zemo's room was fresh at the front of his mind, especially now as he walked down the little hall and into the open room. He unconsciously licked his lips. "Tea sounds nice," the words rushed out. "I like the cherry stuff. But, uh, you don't have to make a pot if you were going to bed soon."
When he came further into the room, he realized that he'd interrupted Zemo reading. He took a brief look at the title. "That one any good?" Bucky asked, pretending like he wasn't putting anything off. The stupid part was that he knew Zemo would know he was procrastinating so what was the point? That maybe Zemo would just go along with it and they'd just sit and enjoy tea over idle chit-chat for the next hour? Bucky knew how Zemo liked to talk...
"You ever press flowers? You know, keep 'em in a book so they last?"
Zemo didn't mind the small talk or making tea. He didn't mind the fact that Bucky was avoiding the reason for his visit, either. The baron liked the company and honestly, he wasn't overly eager to hear that bad news. It was nice to have five minutes of normalcy, even if it didn't feel completely authentic.
"My book?" Zemo moved to heat some water, briefly glancing over his shoulder at what he'd been reading. "Oh, it's one of those erotic novels. Scandalous love affairs, masochistic themes. BDSM. Pretty kinky stuff." The baron couldn't stop himself from cracking a smile as he looked at the soldier. Bucky wasn't here to be flirted with. But that wouldn't stop Zemo from throwing inappropriate comments his way.
"I'm just kidding. It's a book on gardening. So I'd say your gift is well-timed. There's probably not a tutorial on flower-pressing, but I'm sure I could figure it out."
Once the tea had been prepared, Zemo took one of the mugs, bringing it over to Bucky. Those brown eyes met with the other man's face, his tone just as calm as ever as he asked, "Are you going to keep me waiting in suspense all night?"
Erotic, huh? Bucky waited until Zemo was turned towards the tea again before coming a bit closer to take another peek at the book. He touched it, flipping up the hardcover and leafing through the pages. Bucky wouldn’t say that he was all that into ‘kinks’ but he was open-minded. Maybe there was something he hadn’t tried that he might like.
By the time Zemo confessed to the true nature of the novel, Bucky had already come to that conclusion. The photographs of different gardens and tools and plants were kind of a giveaway. He still went through a few more pages before letting the book close again. “My sister likes to garden.”
Bucky didn’t wait to blow on the tea before trying his first sip. It burned but in the way he needed to distract himself from the question at hand. He did smirk though, catching Zemo’s gaze and sending him a wink over the rim of his cup. “Not all night.”
But after two careful sips, he lowered the mug and took a seat in one of the chairs. “There’s going to be rules,” Bucky finally let out.
There was an amused smile on his face over that wink. Even if he couldn't touch Bucky anymore, no one could stop Zemo from admiring him from afar. Because Bucky was a thing of beauty and deserved to be appreciated. Zemo then trailed back over to the table, collecting his own mug. He didn't expect this to be a very long discussion, but the baron was set on getting comfortable all the same.
He didn't sit. He preferred to stand when having serious conversations. It helped him think, helped him process what was being said. So he leaned his hip against one of the dressers, his full attention on Bucky.
It was then the other man's words reached him, causing Zemo to frown. He had been anticipating something along the lines of, 'we have to keep this professional' or 'I can only see you when it's necessary'. Not.. something about rules. The baron cocked his head to the side. What did that even mean? "Rules for what?"
Zemo wasn’t sitting down. Was that a power move? Bucky grinned as he watched Zemo make himself comfortable not too far away. The room itself was large but Zemo was still close enough that Bucky had to arch his neck back a little so he could look at him better.
It was difficult not to admire the other man’s appearance. Even before, Bucky noticed how Zemo liked to dress down to the last stitch with perfection. How he managed to keep his shirts looking iron-fresh and soft while Bucky barely managed to keep his own clothes wrinkle-free. He imagined that Zemo put that much effort into every aspect of his life.
When it was too obvious that he’d been spending the last five minutes checking Zemo out, Bucky turned to his tea before responding. “For you and me. Whatever that becomes. Or not becomes.” He made a face, the uncertainty over the situation bothering him a little, and he ran a hand through his hair. “You know almost better than anyone that I come with baggage. There’s ….strings. And Steve. He doesn’t like the situation but he’s open to letting things …or seeing how they might develop.”
Maybe he was taking this too seriously. Bucky fiddled with the mug. “He thinks you’re only doing this to mess with my head.” He lifted his gaze back to Zemo. “Are you?”
Zemo was quiet for a moment. He desperately, desperately wished he could have been there for that conversation. What the hell had Bucky said to Steve in order for him to even consider this to be an option?
Zemo never would have permitted his wife to run around with other people, even when he was away for an extended amount of time. So hearing that Steve was allowing this was, frankly, a bit of a shock. But what surprised Zemo even more was that Bucky was pushing for.. this. That he had asked in the first place.
He shook off that stunned expression, trying to regain his composure.
"I can see why Rogers might think that. The only time he ever knew me was when I was using you to achieve my goals. But I'd like to think that you know better than that." Zemo took a step closer, sipping his tea. "In the beginning, I was toying with your mind. I did enjoy testing you and seeing where your limits were. But I've also come to respect that mind of yours. So no, James. I'm not doing this just to screw with your head."
Zemo inched ever closer, his eyes darkening as he added, "That being said, what I want from you is not severely complicated." Hopefully, Bucky could gather what Zemo meant by that. "So. What are these rules?"
Bucky’s memory was shit but that day was pretty burned into his brain. Between Steve tracking him down to his shoddy apartment in Bucharest to Zemo slipping past SHIELD security and activating him to cover his escape, it had been a wild couple of hours. “It wasn’t that long ago you pretended to be my therapist, was it?” His voice was full of humor. Zemo had said it hadn’t been personal, after all. It had taken him awhile but Bucky was starting to believe that.
Even if it had been a little personal. Again, Bucky was reminded of the small somehow easily forgotten fact that at one point Zemo had been a family man. He’d experienced a great loss. Remembering that always had Bucky’s insides go soft.
And hearing Zemo’s bedroom voice come out had him hard. He shifted in the chair, like that was going to make it less obvious. That he’d only been in Zemo’s presence for barely ten minutes and already he was getting flustered and turned-on. Screw with his head? Nah. “But you are looking to get screwed with.” Bucky knew exactly what Zemo meant. His own blue eyes met with Zemo’s dark brown ones as he imagined what that might be like. How quickly could he pull those cute little noises he’d gotten last time out of him when they’d kissed?
He set the mug on the table, now empty. Which was a pity because now that he had those thoughts in his head, his mouth had gone dry. “Our room, Steve’s and mine, that’s off-limits. We take things slow for now. And you’re on Steve’s watchlist. Which i’m sure you would assume but I had a feeling you’d still be amused to hear it. If he thinks you’re out of line, well, just don’t be out of line and you can play with your new toy.” Bucky pointed at himself. “Me. I’m the toy. You have to play nice.”
Stay out of their room? Take things slow? Be surveyed by Steve Rogers? There had to be more to it than that. It couldn't be that easy. There had to be a catch.
Then again, Zemo wasn't lying when he claimed that his wants were simple. Perhaps, Rogers would be making more of a fuss if he thought that Zemo was trying to start another war. The baron had no desire to take Bucky away from Steve. Zemo wasn't looking to get married and have another family. No, what he wanted from Bucky was, in comparison, quite shallow. This wasn't to say that he didn't care about Bucky in some capacity. He'd be absolutely lying if he claimed he felt nothing for his dear soldat.
..but at the same time, he wasn't pushing to stick a label on anything.
Zemo still didn't understand why Rogers was being so passive. But he also didn't really care enough to think too deeply on the matter. He set his mug aside, his expression airing on the side of smug.
"And what, exactly, counts as out of line?" Zemo paused, leaning over the chair that Bucky was sitting in. He reached out, his hands taking the armrests, caging his new toy in. "And what of you, James? What.. rules do you have for me?" He leaned in a little more, his nose just barely brushing against Bucky's. "Other than.. playing nice?"
The rules might have sounded simple but Bucky planned on sticking to them like glue. Bucky hadn't said that his boyfriend would be stalking Zemo. Just that he would be keeping a close eye on him. Or maybe Steve did plan on doing a bit of surveillance. Hell, Bucky would even join him if he was. It was only fair. Zemo had spent months watching all of them. Turnabout was fair play.
...James?
He narrowed his eyes and tried to stop it but something electric still ran up his spine. Every goddamn time Zemo used his first name in that thick accent, it was a weird sort of pleasure. There were only a few who still used it. Technically, it was his name. But the way that the other man wrapped it around his tongue felt like it was a pretty Christmas package all done up with string delivered personally for his ears alone.
Here Zemo came to invade his space. Bucky didn't try to pretend as though he didn't like that a little. Especially now that he knew more about what the other man's intentions were, shallow or not. Bucky didn't want labels either. He didn't even know what this was between them yet. There was no point in putting pressure on something that had only just started.
"Don't be a dick. Unless you're being cute about it."
Bucky lounged more in the chair, spreading himself out so that his legs went between Zemo's. And he grabbed him by the front of his shirt, pulling him down as he sank further in. "Be honest with me. If you want out, then just say so. Don't draw anything out if you think you've gotten bored with me."
Zemo made a noise as Bucky pulled him down; some mix of surprise and delight. After which, he'd get settled, hiking his thighs open wider and making himself comfortable upon the other man's lap. His hands abandoned the armrests, now seeking out Bucky's chest.
"I can't say there will never be secrets between us. My business is still my own, and I won't go meddling into your life, either. But when you're here with me, in my room, I am not going to lie to you. It's true, I've kept things from you before. But this is different. This is not a mission. This is very personal. I wouldn't string you along for the hell of it. That would be in bad taste, and we both know how I feel about that."
Zemo's flirtatious tone briefly fell into more serious territory. He leaned away, almost as if he'd suddenly become wary. "Why are you doing this? Why strain your relationship with Rogers for my sake?"
The air was different between them. It was lighter. Playful. Zemo had been making certain remarks and giving him coy looks from start. Just because he was over a hundred, didn't mean he was blind. His eyesight was as good as ever. He'd caught Zemo glancing at his mouth more times than he wanted to admit. Maybe his own eyes had dipped a few times themselves. But that had been as far as he'd allowed himself to react. Even when the flirting became downright blatant. But now, Bucky was flirting a little back.
Why?
It was Bucky's turn now to be surprised. He let out a small laugh, then reached up to play with Zemo's hair. The back of his metal fingers brushed over his ear. "I think a small part of me likes you." Why else would he be willing to risk what he had? It wasn't a hard question. Bucky could see how Zemo would question that though, given how he'd behaved in the past. He ran a little hot and cold, didn't he? Acting completely uninterested one minute and then the next, after one little kiss (okay more than one), he was changing his tune.
But then the attraction had been there before.
He trailed vibranium fingers lightly under his cheek and to his chin. "Oh, so now it's personal?" Bucky smirked, unable to stop himself from the teasing Zemo a little. "Yeah, well I'd hate to make you do anything in bad taste. Although I'm about as unclassy as they come. But maybe that's why you like me."
A small part of me likes you.
To some, this explanation might not have been enough. It was clear that Bucky was still prioritizing Steve, but there was no way this wasn't stressing the previous Captain America out and causing him to doubt the man he was in a relationship with. There must have been another element at play here, because Zemo truly did not believe he was worth the trouble that Bucky was going through.
But, again, as much as he actually respected Steve Rogers, Zemo didn't really care about the fate of Steve and Bucky's relationship. And if Bucky was willing to rock the boat just because he wanted to get laid, well. Zemo wasn't going to argue with that.
He smiled, his demeanor slipping right back into complacent. "You have the potential to be classy. Especially when you let me dress you." Zemo's hands moved further down Bucky's chest, all the way to the hem of his shirt. Fingertips nudged their way beneath the fabric, feeling the warmth of Bucky's stomach. Bucky had never elaborated on what he meant by 'take it slow'. And since Zemo was the 'ask for forgiveness, not permission' type, he decided he'd see where that line was the fun way.
"Though, I don't think you've ever let me undress you." Zemo rocked his hips into Bucky's; a means of distraction as his hands migrated further, pushing his shirt up and exposing his abdomen. "That could be enjoyable, too."
It was simple. It was complicated. All of it was kind of a mess in his head. Bucky had gone most of his life keeping his feelings for his best friend close to his chest. When Steve had left, he’d been lost and hurt. Moving on had seemed impossible. He tried for appearances sake, because it was something he was supposed to do (and Bucky was great at pretending). Trying to deal with those buried emotions with Zemo around had been difficult. Especially when the other man liked to keep reminding him of his past.
But they’d come out the end of the tunnel with a little more respect for each other than either of them probably anticipated. And a little something more.
Bucky lifted an eyebrow as he glanced down to where Zemo’s hands had moved down his chest. He didn’t stop him. Or even move to try. Slow was the opposite his body wanted to do right now but he’d promised. Zemo would know the line when he got to it. Until then, Bucky allowed the roaming hands. He moved his legs a little, gliding them against Zemo’s. The friction didn’t help his physical desire disappear but it was enough for now to satiate it.
“You have style. I’ll give you that.” Bucky glanced towards the closet that he’d helped to fill a few times too many. He suddenly felt Zemo move down into him with very clear physical intent and his focus snapped back like a rubber band. There was no chance that Zemo hadn’t been able to feel how hard he was when he’d done that. Bucky had to bite his lip to hold in the moan that had tried to escape. “If you do that again-“ his threat was cut off when hands snuck under his shirt and he felt the cool air of the room tickle his stomach.
Quickly, his hands went for Zemo’s and pulled them back to the arms of the chair, pinning them there. Bucky had to control his breathing or else he wouldn’t be able to control the rest of himself. He inhaled through his nose a few times. Still, he had to grin because damnit, a little tummy tickle shouldn’t have lit him up like that. “Looks like the line is a bit closer than I thought. I … I don’t think I’ll be able to stop if we go further than this.”
"Mm, well. I don't want to stop." Those brown eyes were bright with desire. He rolled his hips a second time, though with far less force this time. Zemo was simultaneously teasing and testing the waters, curious to see just how much Bucky was willing to let him get away with. Because that was the fun of this little game they were playing, wasn't it? Zemo would push and push until Bucky eventually gave in.
And yet, at the same time, Zemo had meant it when he told Bucky that he was not trying to toy with his mind. If the baron was really set on it, he knew he could coax Bucky into fucking him. If that sizable bulge was anything to judge off of, Zemo was very certain that it wouldn't take much convincing.
Zemo may not have admitted it out loud, but he didn't want to corrupt whatever trust existed between them. If Bucky wasn't ready to get physically intimate, then the baron had no choice but to pump the brakes. He gave an audible sigh of disappointment and stopped rubbing his crotch against that bump in Bucky's pants. "But I suppose this is what you meant by 'behave', isn't it?"
A rhetorical question. He knew the answer to that one. Zemo didn't fight to free himself from Bucky's grip. He simply remained where he was, his expression softening. "I look forward to the day where you let me do more than that. Would it be too much to ask you to stay a little longer?"
The second wave of torture was much worse. Bucky’s eyes fluttered and his fingers tightened like a vice around Zemo’s wrists.
It was hard to keep the fire low when Zemo kept stirring it up. But it felt good and Bucky couldn’t resist giving a little playful thrust of his hips up into the other man. Nothing close to what he wanted to do, which was close to tearing off every bit of fancy and expensive piece of clothing off the other man and fucking him on the floor ...but this would have to do.
“Maybe this can be an exercise in delayed gratification,” Bucky was able to smoothly get out in a husky voice after he’d gathered his wits back. The grip he had on the other men lessened and he even pulled Zemo’s hands back to his chest. He turned their hands until he could curl his fingers with Zemo’s and held them.
“I can stay a little while.” He’d obviously made himself comfortable in the chair and with Zemo nestled snugly in his lap, yeah. Bucky wasn’t moving any time soon. He nudged his nose into Zemo’s chin and then snuck a kiss underneath before leaning back and grinning up at him. “Tell me what you’ve been reading. Teach me about gardening.”