It was quarter to three in the morning when Steve and Bucky were getting dressed and adjusting their equipment after they showered and ate. The early hour was killer and fatigue consumed them like a cloud of fog, dragging them down and smothering them. Their eyes felt as if they were going to recede into their sockets and every limb felt leaden and flimsy.
Bucky, yanking the straps of his knee pads on tighter, glanced back at Steve. He was ravishingly dressed in his new uniform. It formed to his figure like a second skin: tight enough that it accentuated every feature of his physique: every bulge and every dip.
Bucky sauntered behind him and tangled his arms around Steve’s attenuated waist, pressing his leather dressed body to the curve of Steve’s spandex coated one. Bucky’s lips bestrew dainty doting kisses on Steve’s heated nape. “Have I ever told you how good you look in the uniform?” Bucky felt Steve tip his head back towards his sensuous lips.
“I don’t think you have,” Steve admitted, slipping his fingerless gloves on to his fingers with a shimmy of the wrist and flexing his fingers.
“Mm… Well I do… If we weren’t on such tight time limits I would fuck you over the nearest surface…” Bucky admitted, capturing Steve’s earlobe between his teeth, gnawing it and then mouthing at his throat.
“Buck,” Steve’s voice cracked in his throat, the image devouring his mind. Steve hummed as Bucky kissed the dip between his jaw and ear, trying to contain the full bodied moan caught in the back of his throat. “This is ludicrous, now’s not the time for this, Buck…” Steve hissed, his head lulling back onto Bucky’s shoulder, throat exposed pleasingly so his teasing lecherous boyfriend could suckle at his skin more.
Bucky’s teeth raked over Steve’s taut throat. “You know you’d love it,” Bucky fleered, lapping at the stripe of neck he’d just nipped, making Steve whimper and smirked against his skin as he saw Steve’s Adam’s apple bob. His hands cupped and caressed Steve’s thighs before climbing to his arse and clenching the firm cheeks.
“How much time do we have?” Steve breathed, his breath hitching in his throat and Bucky trailed his lips across his chiselled jaw. Steve gave a full body shudder, from his earthed heel to the tip of his spine, his skin fizzling like an electric current had washed over it in its wake: like the foam behind a boat.
“Quarter of an hour…” Bucky remarked, glancing at the clock nailed into the wall. Bucky undetectably rutted into Steve, but Steve could feel Bucky’s arousal pressing into his thigh and nudging his fittingly clothed arse, subconsciously making him spread his legs as causation. Bucky could only smile at the beautiful reaction.
“Want to do something completely crazy?” Steve suggested, eyes rolling shut as Bucky’s real hand roamed around his front and his fingers dipped beneath the waistband, tracing his treasure trail and making him ache with need.
“You’re full of good ideas already today, Rogers.”
~
“Sorry we’re late,” Steve apologised, arriving in the hangar and waving at the team who were obediently lined up like an army troupe. “Bucky had a… Thing… It needed attending to,” Steve nondescriptly explained, leaving dubious gaps in the story. Everyone noticed the few new marks on his neck – for once – above his collar: still freshly indented with teeth marks.
Bucky’s face was still flushed across his cheeks and nose and his lips were a red and shredded, bitten and scraped by teeth to try and suppress noises. He was still rasping for breath; which could’ve potentially been attributed to rushing down, but something about Steve’s walk said otherwise.
“Two minutes,” Coulson grumbled, peering at the watch concealed beneath his sleeve. Phil shook his head at the two thoroughly debauched boys who were grinning at each other like a pair of naughty schoolboys as they arrived hand in hand. He was stood before the line of superheroes, hands clasped behind his back formally, a briefcase sat by his side.
“Sorry,” Bucky surrendered to the rebuking with his metal hand, the other linked with Steve. “But trust me, if it wasn’t important and imperative that the issue was attended to, we wouldn’t have wasted your time.” Bucky shrugged innocently with a petulant smirk, his gaze darkening with mischief as he looked at Steve.
Tony gave an eye roll to the pair on them and Natasha arched one finely plucked brow.
“Well, you’re all here, at last. And that’s the most important thing. Tell me team, how do you feel about jumping out of a plane?” The question excluded Sam and Tony completely, both of them were armoured in their flying devices and uniform.
There were murmurs of apathetic agreement amongst the Avengers, but Coulson’s team looked a little startled – all except May, who was naturally unfazed by anything that came her way.
“Because that’s what you’re going to be doing for the next month. If you have a fear of heights, I greatly suggest you get over it now. We’ll be deploying you at the Lincoln Memorial – then Banner and Fitz and I will guide you with where you need to go – the signal we’ve traced tells us that there’s a Hydra base buried beneath the lake. We’ll tell you how to get down there and where to go once you’ve been deployed.” Coulson smiled at his team, his undefeatable line-up.
The team looked along the line at each other, readying themselves to pull together as a squad and face some action that lay ahead together.
“So, I’ll be piloting your Quinjet – thank you again for the lessons, Melinda – and fly you over the drop zone then you’ll all have to simultaneously filter out the craft. Do I make myself understood?” Coulson confirmed. Again, there were mumbled of agreement and affirming head nods. “Now…” He picked up the briefcase and dramatically unlatched it before swivelling it on his palm to reveal the contents. Inside were twelve earpiece communicators. “These are for all of you – take one each and clip them in. We can’t be dealing with communication errors. These were especially designed by our tech genius Leo Fitz a while back – they have an inbuilt tracking device – to track your progress and guide you or just in case we need to find you for an emergency extraction.”
They were distributed amongst the team and Coulson clipped his own in too, plugging one ear up with the ear defender size earpiece, it resembled those of which drummers plug their ears with. It formed perfectly to their ears, with a malleable polymer material that shaped accordingly. Clint had a specially modified one – with a hearing aid inbuilt that he could adjust to his needs.
Coulson flicked a button on a handheld device in his pocket and a screech was transmitted through all of their earpieces simultaneously. Half of them grimaced, whilst others just clapped a hand to their abused ear canal. “Glad to see they’re working. Now… All aboard.”
~
There were ten seats in the Quinjet including the pilot and co-pilot seats, with Bruce and Leo remaining back at base there was just enough seats to seat everyone. They were all crammed shoulder to shoulder in intense silence, mentally preparing themselves for the approaching gruelling base raid.
The jet was dimly lit; the only light was that leaking from the consoles in the open cockpit and the green lights by the bay-door; indicating it was locked. Everyone’s complexion was tainted by the hue of the white from the front of the jet and the green from the back.
“ETA, three minutes!” Coulson called out, peering over his shoulder. “Prepare yourselves.”
The whole team rose in syncopation, some more enthusiastic and riled up than others, so to speak. Excluding Tony and Sam, they all pulled the black back-packs that housed the parachutes and slung them over their shoulders and secured the harnesses across their chests. Steve had to remove his shield from his back to slip it onto his shoulders.
Over the roar of the engines, the clasping and clipping of metallic buckles and clasps was barely audible. There was the sound of friction on fabric as they adjusted the length and tightness of the harnesses and jangling of the metal loops, hoops and zippers as they tested the security of the backpack their lives depended on.
“Who’s going out first?” Steve questioned, looking at the crew standing about in the low roofed jet, all clinging onto handles and seats to stop themselves from falling over with the turbulence that rattled the jet at the cloudy height.
“You call it, Captain,” Tony suggested. “Give us the order and we’ll line up.” Tony’s mask slipped over his face with a clank and the facial features of the helmet glowed a spritely aquamarine.
“Alright… Tony, Sam…” He gained their attention. Sam saluted him with confirmation and Tony wandered over to the bay door, readying himself for when it opened: front of the queue. “You’ll both go out first, secure the sky, keep watch from above. Next I want to be out on the ground with Bucky, secure the land. Then I want the rest of you to follow; that’s you Nat, Clint, Antoine, Skye and Melinda. Then Tony and Sam, you’re to arrive on the ground with the rest of us.” He looked about, double checking he’d managed everyone. “Everyone clear and understood?” He eyed the team surrounding him and got a few anxious nods and some other certifying confident ones. “Great. All I have left to say is good luck.”
“ETA, two minutes!” Coulson cried from the front of the plane.
Everyone crammed themselves onto opposite sides of the plane, lining up in pairs, coordinated to both sides. All of them were poised in a slightly crouched stance, ready to run.
They could all hear the blood rushing in their ears and feel the thundering fluttering pulse flapping in their chest, their hearts thrashing in their ribcages, trying to break their way out. Their breaths were far smaller and far more frequent, tiny meagre gasps, as if the air had thinned out in the cabin. Their whole body trembled with adrenaline fuelled anticipation; plotting for the jump. Eyes were front, mouths were sealed, suspense suffocated them all, nerves like a noose around their throats.
“One minute!”
Everyone tensed, muscles drawing in tight, fists clenching, shoulders shrinking closer, jaws clinching. The seconds were raw as they ticked by, every moment crisp and clear and lucid. Time was running short, they could feel it.
Steve looked over to Bucky, swallowing a mouthful of sticky bile, his mouth dry with eager nerves. Bucky saw the riled up excited look on Steve’s features, he’d known that reckless twinkle for too many years; it was the same every time Steve was about to do something perilously dangerous or thoughtlessly stupid.
“Ten…”
Bucky shook his head at Steve, who was smirking and tapping his back foot frivolously, hammering it into the metal flooring.
“Nine…”
Steve winked at Bucky, licking his lips with ardency and impatience.
“Eight…”
Bucky winked back at him and kissed the air in his general direction. His fists curled tighter.
“Seven…”
Both the boys faced the front, focused on their mark, ready to follow. “I want you deployed in a pair, every three seconds, got it? I don’t want you bunched-“
“Six.”
“But I don’t want you more scattered than a chequers board,” Steve looked about.
“Five.”
There was a hiss and whirr as the hatch depressurised and the light flicked from green to red. A buzz was given as notification of the breach. The door began to depart from the module and there was a rushing of air as the wind rattled into their container, ruffling all of them.
“Four.”
The door tilted down on its hinge, revealing the fog of clouds they were cloaked by, as if invisibility wasn’t enough. There was nothing but a mass of sky and a tremendous plummet.
“Three.”
The whole bird rattled, wings trying to take to the new assault of the wind; trying to balance itself with the stormy stream of air rattling around in the container, swaying it this way and that.
“Two.”
The view beneath as they left the cloud cover was magnificent, millions of beacons glaring out into the dark sky. Tiny pinpricks of colour were splattered across the city, streams of lights, lines and dots: it was like a miniature Hornby train set; but so much vaster. The lights were arranged in lines, splintering off each other like a crossword puzzle, intricately bending and curving in every direction.
“One.”
There was a clunk as the door reached its maximum tilt capacity, opening as widely as possible. Everyone stumbled as the vehicle jerked.
“Go!”
Tony and Sam leapt out the hatch, zooming upwards with a roar of thrusters, repelling gravity as they zoomed into the night sky, swerving away from the soaring jet.
“Three!” Steve countered on his fingers, chest low, knees bent. “Two!” He looked directly across at Bucky, who was also hunched over, ready to propel himself off his back foot. His shield in one hand, the other reaching for his mask. “One!” He pinched the nose of his mask and dragged it over the top half of his face.
Bucky and Steve sprinted simultaneously, their patter of feet limited before they sprung out into the night sky, in unison. Both dived with mirrored gymnastic grace, like Olympic divers, arms and legs spread eagled and cores tight to maintain that position. In was in perfect synchronisation.
The rumble of the jet’s engines fast left them behind, zipping off into the blackness and clouds, continuing its voyage. They were surrounded by the sound of wind instead, rushing past their ears.
Bucky directed himself towards Steve in freefall and extended his arm to capture Steve’s hand. They snapped each other’s hands up and smiled at each other as they fell.
The ground raced towards them as they went to gather at the lakeside, zooming in and the city transforming from a blur of blinking lights and smeared coloured lines, it took shape, becoming three dimensional and zooming into focus.
“Ready to pull?” Steve suggested, cross checking.
“Ready when you are, Captain.”
“3, 2, 1…”
They divided, fingers curling into the drawstring loops and firing off the black parachutes, suspending them in mid-air as the wind caught beneath the expanse of material and feeling the whiplash as they slowed instantly – dangling limply from the harness. The whooshing of wind stopped and the flapping of the parachutes commenced. They descended on the thermals, spiralling down to the ground and looked up above them to see the rest of the team incoming, a couple already having pulled their chutes, others still diving.
The ground was mere metres above their feet and they began kicking in the air, readying to hit the ground running. Then, with moderate grace, they touched down, running along the floor and then walking to halt, unbuckling themselves from the tangling mesh of ropes and swathe of material as they stalked across the shore. They joined each other after avoiding one another for a safe tangle-free landing, patiently awaiting the arrival of the rest of their team.
“That was surprisingly romantic,” Bucky admitted, the moonlight bouncing off the lake lighting his face with silvery flecks, taking Steve’s hands in his.
“Good thing we’re going to be doing that more than once,” Steve agreed, pecking him on the lips and grinning at Bucky, who looked rough and windswept. He pressed a finger to his ear, activating the microphone on the device. “Coulson, we have touch down.”
A/N - Bucky calling Steve, "Rogers" gives me life.
Dedication goes to combustingpotato! x