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I could be different if it hadn’t been for you, Bucky wanted to say, but his voice stuck in his throat.
Staring up at Rumlow through his lashes, he wondered how he’d gotten here. Here he was on his knees, in a dark, hot, damp place, the only light the glowing amber-gold of Rumlow’s eyes, and a lava pool nearby that cast some dim ambient light through the cracks in the black crust. The way the lava quietly bubbled made Bucky nervous.
He tried not to shuffle in place.
I could have been someone worthwhile if it wasn’t for you, Bucky wanted to say, but his mouth was sown shut.
Rumlow’s scent permeated the air, as if the lava pool was made of it. It was dizzying and intoxicating, alluring and nauseating all at once. He didn’t dare take his eyes off the man standing before him, whose chest was bare except for the harness he usually wore. His pants slung low on his hips, missing a belt that Rumlow held dangling in his hand.
The moment Bucky looked at it, he snapped it forward at such a speed that it cracked in the air inches from Bucky’s face. The sound and wind caused him to flinch away.
I could have been someone who could be loved if it wasn’t for you, Bucky wanted to say, but his mouth no longer existed.
“Hands and knees,” Rumlow ordered, and Bucky obeyed immediately, his body moving before he could even think. The first strike came even before his jeans were removed, but it didn’t feel like they dulled the pain at all.
The sharp sting registered first.
That was all that had time to register as the belt whipped across his back next. The strap wrapped around the side of his body, the metal end tip snapping against his chest. All he could do was huff out a thin, reedy whine through his nose, a gasp stuck in his chest. Rumlow laughed.
The bastard.
He wrapped the belt once more around his fist and started a punishing rhythm, the pain a bright searing X across his back, lighting up his nerve endings, the blunt strikes powerful enough to cut through his flesh, soaking his back with blood, too much blood.
He only became aware of his mouth when he realized his panting was too loud.
Why was he obeying? Why was he taking this? He could reach back and yank that-
His body was already moving as the thought occurred to him, grabbing the belt on the next swing with his vibranium arm, yanking and hauling Rumlow off balance, pulling him close, wrapping his other arm around him, and -
And Rumlow closed the distance, kissing him.
And he was lost again.
The kiss, though passionate, was as methodical as the strikes had been, weakening Bucky to his core.
“You’ll always be mine,” Rumlow whispered into the kiss, and Bucky stumbled back at the sound of Rumlow’s cruel laughter filling the air.
Anger filled him, and he growled and shoved Rumlow back, hard.
He had the satisfaction of seeing Rumlow stumble backward, eyes wide, before he fell. Bucky couldn’t help but reach out for him as he tumbled, desperate to save him - but the lava swallowed him whole, his body sinking into it like water.
Bucky dropped to his knees, unsure how to feel - until Rumlow rose from the lava. He floated above it, naked now, his narrowed eyes now glowing red with a snakelike slit, black-charred wings unfurling from his back like grotesque flags, mossy green scales covering the muscle structure and the hand at the arch, while the webbing looked damaged and torn. Horns grew from his skull, short but sharp, curved back from his skull like a waterbuck antelope. A tail whipped behind him, lashing like an angry cat’s, a series of four spikes arched towards the end at the top, with a blade on the bottom side of the tip.
Bucky’s mouth opened in a scream. It sounded distant and far away, as if someone else was screaming.
He shook and shook until his eyes opened and Zemo was underneath him, a thin line of red forming on his neck, under the silver flash of a blade. Bucky tossed the knife to the side, dully hearing the thud of it hitting the closet door, his fingers curling into the material of Zemo’s nightshirt, dropping his head to Zemo’s chest.
“Sorry… sorry, I…” Zemo rubbed Bucky’s back, his hand moving in circles, but he didn’t shush Bucky’s tears or sobs or words, just held him.