"What is your problem?"
Bucky froze in his car seat, left arm twisted almost entirely around in order to reach up his shirt and between his shoulder blades. "What?"
"You're fidgeting," Sam said. "Constantly."
"I am not."
"Yes, you are."
"I needed to scratch an itch."
"You seem to have a lot of itches." Now Sam was giving him even more side-eye than Bucky usually got, which was frankly a lot more than he deserved. "Did Dr. Insectoid give you lice? Bedbugs? If you have bedbugs, I'm sending you packing. To the moon."
"They weren't even real bugs," Bucky pointed out. "They were robots. With four legs. He's somehow a worse case of false advertising than Spider-hyphen-Tween."
"Uh huh. Maybe the reason it's so hard to catch a failed etymology grad student is because one of the guys staking out his lab can't hold still for ten seconds. If I didn't know better I'd say you're going into rut."
There was a drawn out, increasingly awkward silence. Bucky could tell the moment the penny dropped. It probably helped that Bucky moved his leg slightly, which moved his boxers slightly, which made his dick think it was being touched and perk up.
"You're shitting me," Sam said.
"Nope."
"Man, you were rutting just last month," Sam said. "I distinctly remember that because you and my sister were stalking around the house like angry tomcats and I had to take on this assignment to hunt down a fourth-rate bug dude to get us out of there before she beat your ass."
"I am a world-class assassin," Bucky replied. "I can take your sister."
"No, you can't."
Bucky totally could but he wasn't in the mood to argue. "Fine, sure."
"So what gives? Most guys it takes three, four months to recharge. Even women don't do it every four weeks."
"I do. It's probably the serum," Bucky admitted. "And before you ask, the pill doesn't do anything. My doctor's been trying dosages but so far it's either nothing or ambien zombie, which isn't great when your neighbors already think you're a mindless killing machine. At least if I smell like a horndog they just think I'm being rude or old-fashioned. The less said about trying to find a date, the better."
People in this century were weird about how to approach omegas, and every dating guide had contradictory suggestions. It didn't help that this entire Captain America's sidekick deal had reminded the world that he existed, which dramatically narrowed the prospects.
"What'd you do in Wakanda?" Sam asked.
"They're not as uptight about it in Wakanda."
"They're not. You, on the other hand." Sam's look was more than enough to make the rest of the sentence unnecessary.
"Okay, fine," Bucky said with an exacerbated sigh, "they're even more confusing than you people. I still can't figure out whether alphas are considered wet or hot. Like the seasons? Wet, cool, hot - yeah, exactly, they do it all differently and I got enough sex ed for one lifetime from Sister Francesca. I didn't need it from Okoye too. Mostly I hung out with just my goats, watched Wakandan soaps, and took a bunch of cold showers."
Sam let out a little snort. "That tracks. Only goats would put up with you in this mood." He waited for a beat. "Have you tried Knotr? Just skip the dating scene. All the kids are doing it these days."
"I installed it for about ten minutes once," Bucky said, "and it was a non-stop line of obvious kidnap attempts mixed with people more interested in my metal arm than my dick, which is a bit inconvenient since I can't get off with my fist."
Sam snickered. Bucky glared. Sam said, "You know, most guys manage with their hands all the time."
"Fuck you."
"Maybe you haven't heard, but they make these toys where - "
"You know, I could probably murder you and get away with it."
"Just sayin', guys on deployment swore by them, and that was before they had compact batteries and plastic muscle."
"Horny Army guys try a lot of stupid things." Bucky's blue balls lead to him falling off a train once already. He wasn't going to stick his cock into some knockoff-Starktech jacking sleeve and see what happened this time.
There was another long pause, punctuated by Bucky trying to spread his legs more so his crotch could get better air flow and seriously considering whether turning on the aircon was worth potentially being attacked by another swarm of tiny robots.
"You know, there's other things soldiers do," Sam said casually, while lifting his binoculars up in a blatant but not entirely unsuccessful attempt to seem cooler than he actually was. "To help each other out."
Bucky rolled his eyes. "Is Captain America offering to buy me a hooker?"
Sam blew a raspberry. "No. You and your buddy are out there and unattached, you give a guy a hand. If you're close maybe suck or fuck around a bit. Me and Riley did plenty of times."
That was news to Bucky, but Sam wasn't one to leak details of his personal life willy-nilly. He was still a bit skeptical, though. "He was an alpha?"
"No, another beta. We get horny too, you know, even if no one's writing epic poems about it."
"It's a bit different."
"I don't think so."
"It really is."
"Bucky, I hate to tell you this, but alphas aren't really that much bigger. Porn lied to you."
"Betas like to say that until they see one in person and go crying home to mommy."
"What, you think I can't handle it? Robots, aliens, mutated beasts, the big purple guy who erased half the universe, no problem, but James Buchanan Barnes's monster cock will defeat me?"
"I'm not saying you're not tough. I'm just trying to save your dignity."
"Dignity? I'm not the one acting like a teenager who thinks his balls are going to explode. And talking like one too. Careful honey, my dick's so big it might break you. Give me a break."
"Fine," Bucky snapped. "You know what, that sounds fun. Just remember I warned you, and that after I've tapped America's ass, you don't get to complain when you're walking funny for a week."
The two of them glared at each other. Sam had a stern, intent expression on his face, one that Bucky was pretty sure his own mirrored. It was a very familiar one. It was the sort of expression you got when a sibling was double-dog daring you. The one skinny self-destructive assholes got when about to do something incredibly dumb. It was an expression that demanded the other person to blink and back down first. Sam was going to lose, of course. Bucky didn't actually need to blink more than once every couple minutes, although the way his combat pants were getting extremely snug was very distracting.
Luckily, both of them were able to escape with their manly credentials intact. There was a tap on the windshield. They ignored it, until several more followed. By mutual unspoken agreement they glanced away simultaneously, at which point it became obvious that there was an increasingly large number of hand-sized robot bugs trying to find a way inside the SUV. It was creepy but thankfully both confirmed this wasn't just some cartel's weed warehouse and ended the conversation.
It took a couple hours to clean things up, but eventually they confirmed that this was the guy who'd been burning down the houses of his dissertation committee with robot insects and managed to actually take him into custody. Bucky was pretty sure he would have found that sentence infuriating even if he hadn't been so horny that the curved rump of Dr. Insectoid's car-sized personal command mecha-insect looked kind of attractive. As Captain America dealt with the local press, who were apparently dumbfounded by his presence on this side of the Mississippi, Bucky slipped back to their safe house to jerk off.
It helped for about ten minutes.
Sam took longer to get back than expected. When he did arrive, he came with dinner, and a smug grin on a his face. It reminded Bucky a lot of one of the village cats that had hung around with his goats. Presumably the pad thai was the successfully caught rat displayed on the doorstep. The question was whether there was also one on his pillow. He was up to something for sure. The only question was what. Sam's choice of death-to-white-boys spice level was probably because he remembered that Bucky liked it that way rather than because he was passive-aggressively annoyed about something. It was only after they'd finished eating that Bucky managed to put a finger on it.
Sam was starting to smell.
Not "I have been stuck in an armored fetish suit for ten hours" smell. They'd both showered as soon as possible. It was similar, though, closer to the clean sweat of a quick run than marinating in your uniform all day. If Bucky didn't know better he'd think Sam was an omega going into heat, but almost as soon as the thought entered his mind he rejected it. The smell wasn't right. Closer than an alpha, sure, but not right.
"You son of a bitch," Bucky said. "What did you do?"
That smug look was still there. "I made a stop on the way back and picked up a couple things to help out with your little problem."
"It's not a little problem," Bucky grumbled. After a brief investigation he discovered that Sam had sneaked a plain paper sack into the house by the cunning means of just leaving it in the living room. It was possible that Bucky's big problem was starting to affect his elite assassin skills. Further examination revealed a frankly oversized bottle of something claiming to be synthetic slick, a small opened pack of little pink pills, and a receipt from Sally's Sensations.
"You understand this stuff is for old people, right?" Bucky asked.
Sam crossed his arms. "Says the guy who's a hundred years old."
"I'm not," Bucky muttered. He knew these things were for old people because the Google's creepy ad bots thought he was, though. He was also having a definite "in my day" moment as he examined the slick, which claimed to be organic and edible, and wondered what was wrong with just regular old lube.
"So are we doing this or not?" Sam asked. "'Cause I'm getting pretty horny here and if you're chickening out I need to take care of things."
Bucky looked at him again and saw clear evidence that, yes, Sam was definitely horny too. Bucky could have noticed that blindfolded at this point. Usually betas weren't so obvious, unless they were a bunch of unshowered bastards in the middle of some godforsaken German forest, but with Sam it was clear as day. And honestly, it wasn't as Bucky had anything against the man. Even on days where his dick wasn't suggesting those probably-Hydra catfishers might be worth a shot, he was forced to admit that Sam was a fine-looking man and possibly even charming.
"Let's do this thing," Bucky said.
"Thank Christ, I thought you were going to make me a do a fucking dance or something."
"Dancing is an important part of courtship and foreplay," Bucky said, "and waggling your ass at a mirror while taking a selfie is lazy bullshit. You should have seen my moves back in the day. I may have been poor as shit but I had style."
Sam crossed his arms. "Bucky."
"You brought it up!"
Rather than get distracted again, Bucky headed toward the master bedroom, pulling off his shirt as he went. As soon as it was gone the feel of air on his skin put his body further into overdrive and his pants quickly followed. He reached the bed and turned, seeing that Sam was both close behind and just shucking his skivvies off. His cock was standing out from neatly trimmed hair, dark and slightly purplish at the end. He also had remembered to bring the lube, which was why Sam was Captain America and Bucky was not.
"After you, handsome," Bucky said, sweeping his hand to the bed.
"No cutesy names, asshole," Sam said with a roll of his eyes, even as he obeyed and got on the bed.
Any further smart remarks Bucky might have said disappeared from his head as he saw that tight ass and strong thighs aimed his way. He hastily dimmed the lights to a more appropriate level and got up himself. Normally there'd be some kissing first, but since someone wanted to skip the dancing they also could skip straight to the part where Bucky ate his date's hole out.
He got his hands on Sam's ass cheeks and spread them apart, feeling the firm muscles flex under his fingers. Sam's hole was dry, which was a little weird, but he could fix that pretty fast. He teased at the rim with his tongue and started slowly working it inside, listening as Sam made a pleased noise.
"Next time, you're shaving first," Sam grumbled, but Bucky could tell it was purely performative. If he was really uncomfortable his cock wouldn't be twitching like that.
Bucky pulled back and smirked, reaching for the lube and popping the cap open. "Trust me, babe, all the guys and gals like a little extra stimulation."
"I said no - woah." Sam's complaint was stopped by Bucky sliding a slick finger into his hole.
"Just relax and let me get you ready."
Bucky's brain said he wasn't anywhere near lose enough even if his balls said to shove right in right now. He worked his finger and the slick in deep before bringing his mouth in again. It didn't taste like slick but it didn't really try to, instead having a vaguely nutty undertone, but it sure felt like the real thing, slippery but not runny. More important was the smell, as something in the liquid brought out the clean, musky scent coming from Sam's crotch even stronger. His cock started to leak slightly but he kept working Sam open, switching between fingers and tongue repeatedly, torn between the desire to keep his nose in close and wanting to watch as Sam squirmed and gripped the sheets with increasing intensity.
"Stop fucking around and get in me," Sam growled after a couple minutes, almost indistinguishable from a frustrated omega about to jump on the nearest available knot.
"Hey, we gotta be careful. Don't want to break America's ass, do we?"
"I'll break your - fuck - your nose if you don't shut up and fuck me."
"Sir, yes, sir."
Bucky's patience as a sniper might have been infinite but in bed it appeared his limit was pretty much the same as his partner. He snapped the slick bottle closed and tossed it aside, then inched forward until his hips were almost touching Sam's rear. He tapped the leaking head of his cock against Sam's entrance a couple times, just a friendly little warning, before pushing inside. He took it slow, holding back the alpha instinct to mount a mate quickly, and watched as the hole had to stretch further to accommodate his rut-enlarged cock. Even after all his work it was still much tighter than any omega he'd had before. When he bottomed out, heavy balls pressed against Sam's ass, he paused for a moment and ran his flesh hand along Sam's side.
"You good?" he asked.
Sam took in a deep breath and let it out before nodding slightly. Bucky started moving again and quickly found himself slipping into a fast and heavy rut, all his pent-up desire suddenly flooding out now that he finally had a slick hole to lose himself in. It was all he could do to maintain enough presence of mind to keep his grip on Sam's hips light enough not to bruise. The room filled with the sounds of mating: the slap of skin on skin, the slick sound of his cock sliding through the wet hole, Bucky's almost-feral grunts, Sam's desperate whimpers and groans. The air around them was thick with the smell of masculine pheromones.
It was hard to say how much time passed when Bucky spotted movement. Sam was sliding his left hand down towards where his cock hung heavy and dripping between his legs. Bucky bent forward to grasp his wrist in his metal fingers and hold him still.
"None of that, babe," Bucky growled into Sam's ear. "Let your alpha do it for you. We're almost there. I'm so close to breeding you up. I've got so much fucking cum built up, if you weren't a beta I'd knock you up a dozen times over. Gonna fill you up and lock it inside you. Ready for that? Yeah? Fuck yeah, here is comes."
As he was speaking, his knot was swelling up. He could feel it dragging against Sam's entrance, catching more and more with each one. As it neared full size he pushed in deep as he could and held for a few seconds, not wanting to risk getting caught outside or hurting his mate's more sensitive beta hole. He was rewarded when he did pull back and it caught firm, tugging but not popping out. Sam cried out at the sudden increased pressure inside him. Hearing his mate's pleasure, Bucky came with a satisfied roar of his own, his cock pumping again and again as he emptied his heavy load inside the quivering hole. Sam came as well, thick ropes of cum splattering against the sheets. Finally their orgasms were fully spent and they collapsed onto the bed, tied together and all but melting into a limp and exhausted puddle.
A couple minutes later, after Bucky and Sam got enough energy to reposition away from the wet spot, they ended up spooning with Bucky protectively wrapped around his mate. There was a comfortable silence for a while as they caught their breath and waited for Bucky's knot to wane.
"So," Sam eventually said.
"So," Bucky echoed.
"That was different."
"Told you."
Another minute passed. "Once a month, huh?"
"About that."
"I could probably handle that. Maybe do it the regular way occasionally, too."
"Sounds good." Bucky closed his eyes and pulled Sam a little closer for a nice post-coital snooze.
"How long are we gonna be stuck like this? I need a shower."
"I dunno. It takes longer if it's been a while since you got any."
"Fuck. I should have know you'd be a frustrating ass even in bed."
Bucky's smile echoed the one he could here underneath the performative bitching. "Tell you what, shut up and take a nap, and I'll blow you when we wake up."
"I'll hold you to that."