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“Royal flush, read it and weep, boys!”
Sam exclaimed as he slammed down his hand with a stretching grin.
Zemo flicked a glance at Bucky, fixing him with a smile that was more of an amused twitch of his lips, but Bucky wouldn’t look at him, too busy scowling at his own cards.
Sam stood up, his chair scraping noisily against the cheap linoleum floor as he stretched his arms up lazily and yawned.
”That means I get the master room, so you both can fight it out for whoever gets the double.”
He sauntered off after that, closing the bedroom door behind him with a soft click, leaving Zemo and Bucky alone for the first time since the very start.
The uncomfortable silence between them melded with the steady sound of nearby traffic zooming past the rundown motel they had chosen to bunker down in for the night.
Which had turned out to be a more cramped affair than they had expected.
Two lousy rooms with a broken TV and a noisy mini fridge— which at least seemed to drown out the whirring ceiling fan above that in no way helped the fact that there wasn’t even a damn air conditioner.
”Best hand wins?”
Zemo asked, watching Bucky throw his cards face down with a grunt before he stood up and headed to the nearby bed— not that it was a long walk, the thing took up most of the space in the cramped room.
”I get the bed.”
He huffed.
Zemo arched an eyebrow in answer, eyes flicking over to the man’s abandoned cards with a questioning smile.
”I never took you as one to run away from a fight, James.”
Bucky stilled.
”Why don’t we play another hand, James? It doesn’t have to be for the bed.”
Zemo murmured, picking up Bucky’s forgotten hand before he glanced over the cards— then looked back up to Bucky with an understanding grin.
Bucky just scowled again.
”Forget it. You take the bed, I’m sleeping on the floor.”
He grumbled, turning his back to him before he pulled off his shirt, releasing the broad expanse of his back with one quick tug, his muscles flexing in the movement before he moved to shuck off his pants next.
Zemo shrugged, eyes still on the cards as he hummed a sigh under his breath.
”Well, we can always share it…”
He murmured, gathering the cards slowly and shuffling them back into the pack.
Bucky paused, turning to stare at him for a long moment, his dark eyes narrowed and back straight as he clenched his discarded shirt to his bare chest.
”There is no damn way I’m sharing a bed with you, so you can just forget it.”
Zemo stood, that twitch of a smile fitting so easily in place as he moved to the opposite side of the double bed.
”Well, I suppose that’s understandable, given your age… and the time and place you grew up in— two men sharing a bed would seem quite—“
”Wait a minute—“
Bucky scoffed, cutting him off quickly with an incensed huff.
”It’s not because you’re a man, alright, it’s because you’re you.”
Zemo just nodded absently and hummed a noncommittal sound under his breath that had Bucky grinding his teeth.
There was a another long silence before Bucky finally raised his hands in an ‘I give up’ motion and stalked back over to the bed, flinging back the sheets and getting in, grumbling all the way. He then rolled onto his side faceing away from Zemo—taking most of the sheet with him— before he barked out his next words.
”You're turning off the lights— and if I see so much as a finger cross my side of the bed, I’m building a pillow fort, got it?”
With a soft chuckle, Zemo did as was commanded and turned out the light before padding over to the bed, letting the sound of each steady breath from the man next to him tug him into a dreamless sleep.
It was only a few hours later though when Zemo was awoken, his body shifting a little under the heavy weight draped over his form, sinking him down into the lumpy mattress… and there was something firm pressing up hard against his backside…
Bucky groaned in his sleep, his eyes fluttering a little as he stirred, before he was slowly pulled into consciousness when something warm and solid moved in his arms.
”Is that your gun… or are you just happy to see me?”
Bucky froze, his sleep-sluggish mind finally clicking into gear and dragging everything into focus.
At some point in the night he must have rolled over, flinging his body over the other man and then… and he…
Oh, god.
”Maybe I should have made the pillow fort…”
Zemo murmured, his voice still thick with sleep, and laced with something else… amusement.
Bucky’s stomach twisted, a sudden surge of nausea climbing up his throat as the weight of it all finally hit him.
He was hard. He was actually hard and Zemo was in his arms. He was hard and he was pressing it into the man’s—
“Oh my fucking god—“
He chocked out, the blood draining entirely from his face, from his limbs, leaving his body cold, leaving his mind to scream at him to do something other than just lay there frozen in place, with his arms wrapped around a man he despised— with his hard cock nudging insistently against that very man’s ass.
Oh. Dear. God.
“F-Fuck—“
Bucky gasped, his hips jutting forward when a soft hand suddenly slipped into his underwear and wrapped firmly around his pulsing cock, not moving, just there.
”Well, I must apologise for insinuating that you had a problem with same-sex relations...”
Zemo murmured, squeezing a little before he swiped his thumb over the leaking tip. Bucky hissed out a groan, his body still frozen in shock except for the shudder that ran up and through his spine, leaving him gasping at the sudden ripple of pleasure sparking from that single touch.
Zemo’s hand started to move then, soft teasing strokes that pulled another groan from Bucky, slowly slickening with every swipe of beading pre-come.
“Do you want me to stop?”
He whispered in the dark, tilting his head back to capture Bucky’s frantic eyes, still mercilessly pumping his cock.
Bucky shuddered, another breathy groan escaping his lips before he scrunched his eyes shut and buried his head into the pillow.
He didn’t need to answer, didn’t need to debase himself any further because his own body did that for him, his hips rocking forward insistently with every stroke until their bodies were moving together, both men breathing heavy and shuddering in union.
“кончить, солдат.”
Bucky’s arms tightened around the man, pulling him flush against his quivering body as he came to a quick and messy end, his moan muffled by the pillow, the thick material masking the peak of his orgasm.
He had come. He had actually come— jutting like some teenager in the skilled hands of his own enemy.
He felt as if his heart could be heard from the next room over, thumping noisily with every rushing breath… but he didn’t dare move, didn’t dare speak.
Not that he could even if he wanted to.
When Zemo’s own breathing finally slowed, he pulled his hand away— but not before smearing the evidence of Bucky’s come all over the crisp white hotel sheets of their double bed— leaving Bucky to stare up at the ceiling in horror.
What… had they done? What had he done?
It wasn’t until Bucky heard the soft and even breaths of the other man that he realised Zemo was back asleep… which lead him to realise that he still had his arms wrapped around the man.
He paused, his eyes watching the way Zemo’s body moved, feeling the strange contrast between the heat of another’s skin against both his arms— one metal, one flesh.
It took longer than it should have for him to pull himself away from the sleeping man, untangling his limbs and quickly rolling over to the far corner of his side of the bed.
He grimaced, feeling his deflated cock slap wetly against his thigh, surging unwanted thoughts of the last few minutes in his mind.
It was a long and restless while before he was able to finally fall back asleep, but even when he eventually did, he couldn’t escape what had just happened between them.
Because it was in his dreams… and even in them he couldn’t stop himself from pulling the other man into his arms and holding him there. Holding him tight.
In his arms.
One metal, one flesh.