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    Summary

    Rogers has got his game face on, staring up at the ceiling like he’s just taking a break or some shit, chilling before the next mission. Fucking peaceful. Nothing about that expression says that he’s been stripped naked and restrained, that he’s surrounded by a pack of guys that are just fucking slobbering over him like hungry wolves circling their prey.

    The Soldier stares flatly and Rumlow holds up his hands. They’re on the same team and he doesn’t want any trouble. He’s fine with seconds provided he gets to watch. As scary as the Winter Soldier is, he’s still one fine piece of genetic engineering shaped by hard training. Rumlow is A-okay with watching the guy get his rocks off with Captain America. “You go right ahead,” Rumlow says. “Be my guest. Ain’t nobody going to stop you.” In fact, Rumlow’s looking forward to this now that he thinks about it, seeing the epitome of Hydra, with his Russian branded arm, fucking the symbol of American pride.

    (Or, the elevator scene in Winter Soldier goes a little differently and Rumlow's thinking that he finally gets to have a piece of Steve Rogers. Only the Winter Soldier shows up and he doesn't seem that keen on sharing. Rumlow POV. Please mind the tags).

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