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Sam’s been looking himself over in the mirror from every possible angle for about five minutes now, and he can see why the Zemo family has utilized this tailor’s services for generations.
He looks good, and Bucky isn’t looking half bad either, as if it were even possible for him to look bad bad. Bucky is the hottest person Sam has ever had the pleasure of, well, having, and the dark fabric of the house tweed he’s selected should look silly and old fashioned, out of style, but on Bucky? Damn, he’s a sight. And the way the pants have been perfectly cut to accentuate that ass would give the late Captain America a run for his money.
Sam is thinking he might like to stare at them all day. Actually, there’s no “might” about it. He definitely would do just that.
Of course, Sam’s not the only one getting his fill of Bucky’s appearance in the bespoke suit. Or his own, for that matter. They’ve been through multiple fittings in order to get every measurement and detail perfect, and Sam can safely say the tailor has outdone himself. The man who insisted on treating the two of them to such an expensive and unnecessary, but ultimately appreciated, gift is sitting behind them in a velvet armchair, one leg crossed primly over the other as he watches the two men admire themselves in the mirror.
Zemo hasn’t taken his eyes off them once since they stepped out of the dressing room, and Sam is seriously enjoying the attention.
He and Bucky have had a steady thing going on for a few months now. It’s common knowledge to the other man in the room, but that hasn’t stopped him from looking his fill, and Sam knows for sure that Bucky isn’t bothered by it either. They’ve talked about it on a few occasions, but any time they’ve tried to hint at including the baron in their fun, they’ve hit a wall.
Though how they’ve gone so long with such little success when the man himself watches them with such obvious hunger is a complete mystery. He clearly wants them, and it’s not even just the looks he gives them that says so. Why else would the man spend upwards of eight grand per suit for a couple of guys who he sees as “just friends”? Zemo is a lot of things, but “nice” isn’t a word Sam would use to describe him.
Things are veering dangerously close to sugar daddy territory, not that Sam minds. It’s the fact that the man could have more than just someone to spend his money on if he would only let go of whatever is holding him back that leaves Sam scratching his head.
Once everyone is happy with how the suits have turned out, Sam and Bucky go back into the changing room, which isn’t so much a room as a little cubby with a curtain across the front to preserve their modesty. Before Sam can even begin to shrug his jacket off, he’s being pushed up against the wall, and Bucky’s mouth is on his.
“Shit, Sam, you look so hot.”
“You’re lookin’ pretty good yourself,” Sam replies before pulling Bucky back down into another kiss. “And I’m not the only one who thinks so.”
“Yeah?”
“A certain someone you’ve expressed interest in couldn’t get enough of you.”
“Yeah? If I recall correctly, someone else here is interested in ‘a certain someone’ too. And from what I could tell, he was checking you out just as much as he was me.”
“See, I love how observant you are. He was checking me out, wasn’t he?”
Sam is perfectly aware that Zemo can hear every word of this. He’s only on the other side of the curtain. It’s not like there is anything to actually muffle their voices, and neither of them is putting even an ounce of effort into being quiet.
“He’d be a fool not to. I mean, look at you, Sam. Fuck.”
Sam laughs at Bucky’s lack of eloquence.
“Zemo? Can you come here a minute? We need some help.”
Zemo doesn’t answer straight away, and it’s almost enough time for Sam to worry that he’s crossed some sort of boundary, that he’s upset the man in some way. But when he does finally respond, his voice is strained, not that the average person would have been able to interpret his tone correctly. It’s just that Sam has known the baron for a long time now. He knows exactly how he would sound under normal circumstances. This isn’t it.
“I’m sure the two of you are perfectly capable of assisting each other.”
Sam wants to bark out a laugh. Even now, Zemo wants to deny himself, and it would be admirable if Sam and Bucky didn’t want him so badly.
“Actually, this is gonna need a more delicate touch than what Bucky can provide.”
“Hey!” Bucky takes mock offense to that statement.
He hears a heavy exhale, as if the other man has already resigned himself to having made a terrible decision.
“What is it you needed my help with?” Zemo asks hesitantly as he pulls the curtain aside and steps past it.
“Well, you see, it’s not exactly what we need help with. It’s more about how we can help you. You’ve gone to all this trouble to get us these fancy suits, and we thought we should show you how much we appreciate it.”
“That isn’t necessary, truly,” the baron says, doing his best to look anywhere but directly at them, and Sam shrugs his jacket off quickly before stopping the man with a hand on his wrist as he turns to leave. “If you don’t feel like you’ve done enough, you could hang this up for me,” he says, holding out the jacket.
Zemo looks at it dubiously before taking it carefully and placing it elegantly over the hanger.
“Is that it, Zemo? You like to feel useful?”
Zemo doesn’t answer the question, not that Sam expects him to, but he does look expectantly at Bucky, who takes the hint and shrugs out of his own jacket before handing it over for Zemo to hang up as well. Now that they are down to their dress shirts, Sam finally feels like they’re making progress.
“So now that you’re here, why don’t you give me your opinion on something?”
“And what might that be?”
“Well,” Sam begins as he rolls the sleeves up until just above his elbows. “I was wondering if you could tell me which one of us you thought looked better.”
Once again, Zemo doesn’t answer right away, but this time, Sam catches him staring at his exposed forearms. He’d made an educated guess about the effect those would have on the baron, and it appears as though he’s right.
“I really couldn’t say.”
“Couldn’t? Or don’t wanna? Come on, Z, it’s okay to have an opinion.”
Zemo glances between the two of them again, and by now, Bucky is rolling his sleeves up as well, and from the wide eyed look Zemo is giving those forearms, one veiny and one gleaming vibranium, Sam can only assume his brain is short circuiting. They are incredibly nice forearms, after all.
“You gonna answer the question, Zemo, or just keep staring at me?” Bucky prompts him after a short while, but there’s no heat in his words. Sam can tell he likes having the baron’s eyes on him, and for a guy who never wants to be the center of attention, that’s saying something.
Zemo clears his throat awkwardly at being called out. “I-I really don’t think I could.”
“Yeah? You like how both of us look that much? Or is it that neither of us is really doing it for you?”
“No!” Zemo squeaks, honest to god, squeaks, and Sam has never heard such a comical sound from the normally composed baron. “No, both of you are certainly quite handsome.”
“Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself,” Bucky says, a ghost of a smirk gracing his lips.
“What Bucky means is we think you’re pretty good-looking too, and we’ve been wanting to get you into bed for a while now.”
Zemo is the epitome of a deer in headlights.
“And sure, this isn’t a bed, but if you’re down, we’re down.”
Sam watches the bob of Zemo’s throat as he swallows thickly, but he doesn’t disagree, and that’s how Sam knows he’s got him right where he wants him. “He’s all yours, Buck.”
Bucky doesn’t need to be told twice. In the space of a second, he’s turning Zemo to face him head on, and then one hand is under his chin, tilting him up and into a kiss. Sam watches them for a while. Zemo’s body is rigid, but he’s making no attempt to put a stop to things, and he’s definitely kissing Bucky back. The slick sounds of their lips and tongues is heavy in their little not-so-private haven.
As the seconds tick by, Sam sees the tension drain from Zemo’s shoulders at the same time as he raises a hand to Bucky’s bicep. It’s a tentative touch, but Sam can tell he likes the way it feels under his palm as that hand moves from Bucky’s arm to his torso, feeling up the super soldier as he goes.
With Zemo now well and truly on board with the direction things are taking, Sam elects to get involved. He crowds in behind the baron, pressing his chest up against the other man’s back and lays both hands on his hips. Zemo parts from Bucky’s lips to lean back into him.
“Sam,” he gasps.
“Right here, sweet thing,” he says. Then, he’s peppering the pale column of Zemo’s neck with kisses, starting just above the collar of his own dress shirt and moving upwards to a spot behind his ear that turns out to be quite sensitive. Sam pays a little extra attention there, eliciting a whimper from the baron.
Sam loses track of time and of what Bucky is doing, and it’s not until he feels something being pulled from between them that he realizes Bucky is removing Zemo’s jacket. Sam takes half a step back, just enough to get the jacket off his arms before he realizes the only hangers they had were for the new jackets.
He looks back to the other two for guidance on what to do with the garment only to find they’ve reinitiated their kiss and aren’t paying Sam and his plight a bit of attention. Sam rolls his eyes in the absolute fondest way possible and drops Zemo’s no doubt expensive jacket in the corner. Zemo’s suspenders go next as Sam slips them down his arms.
“Get his pants off,” Sam directs the baron while he works Zemo’s own pants down his legs.
“May I, James?” He asks, polite even as his fingers are already toying with the straps. Bucky had also elected for “braces” as they call them.
“Fuck yeah,” Bucky growls, and the tone sends a shiver down Sam’s spine.
Now that both men have their pants and underwear down around their ankles, Sam drops to his knees between them. Both of their erections jut out into the open air, equally hard and begging to be touched, but Sam ignores Bucky’s for the time being to wrap a hand around the baron’s straining girth. Then, he’s guiding Zemo into his mouth.
“He’s good at that, isn’t he?” Bucky asks the baron as Sam blows him. Sam’s glad for the cock in his mouth muffling his initial guffaw.
“Not as good as you,” he pulls back to reply, and Bucky laughs. Bucky is the one who looks like his mouth was made for sucking cock with his plump, soft lips, and Sam swears the serum only helps him in that regard. The guy’s got no gag reflex, but Sam would never complain about that. Getting to throat fuck a super soldier is always a good time.
Sam gets back to work, taking Zemo back into his mouth, but this time, he’s wrapping a hand around Bucky’s erection and stroking it in time with the movements of his head.
It doesn’t take long for the cock in his hand to start leaking, and Sam is mindful to collect the precum on his fingers. One plus of sex with a super soldier is that they come with their own lubricant. No need to carry around lube for impromptu sexy times or to wait until later. If they want to fuck in the fitting room of a fancy suit shop, they can.
The sound of renewed kissing can be heard above his head, and Sam’s not sure which one of them has initiated this round. The twitching of the cock in his hand matches that of the one in his mouth. Sam is happy that everyone seems to be enjoying themselves so far. Even if his own dick is throbbing within the confines of his freshly tailored pants, he’s certainly having a good time. It’ll be even better once he’s stretched Zemo out on his fingers. Speaking of which, Bucky’s cock is leaking profusely, nearly matching the wetness Sam’s mouth is providing, yet still managing to best it in terms of slickness. His hand slides up and down the hot, turgid length with very little resistance.
Sam is sorely tempted to allow both of his partners to come, but he has to remind himself that only one of them is enhanced, and he’s not sure what Zemo’s limits are. Hopefully, there will be ample opportunity for them to learn his body and teach the baron about theirs in return, but for this first time, it’s best not to chance Zemo being too over sensitive to really enjoy it, Sam thinks.
With that in mind, Sam lets Zemo’s length slip from his mouth, and the baron lets a small whine slip from his own in return. Bucky swallows it eagerly but lets loose one of his own when Sam stops stroking him, hips chasing the contact and coming up empty.
“Keep him hard for us, will you, Z?”
Zemo’s hand is on Bucky’s cock in a heartbeat, picking up where Sam left off as the man on his knees positions himself behind the baron. Then, using the accumulated precum, Sam sets about preparing him for the main event. The first finger slides in fairly easy, and Sam fucks him with the single digit lazily before moving on to two. On the third, Zemo instinctually tries to widen his stance only to find his movement is restricted by the pants around his ankles. The baron huffs in frustration, and as much as Sam likes seeing this side of him—the furious need and lack of composure—an unencumbered lower body will be far more conducive to what’s in store for their precious baron.
Reluctantly, Sam removes his fingers from Zemo’s hole. He admires the winking pucker of it while doing his best to hold back a chuckle at the frustrated noises Bucky is trying valiantly to smother with his mouth.
“You need help with your shoes, or you got it?”
Zemo doesn’t need any more prompting, hastily kicking off his fine leather shoes. His pants prove to be a different story, though, when he spends several moments fighting with them to no avail.
“Sam,” Zemo huffs, and he doesn’t need to be told twice, jumping to his assistance.
The moment his legs are free, he’s spreading them and canting his hips back towards Sam, who finally stands up. He hasn’t had reason to be on his knees for that long in a while, and it feels good to be back on his feet, but it feels even better to slide his fingers back inside Zemo’s partially stretched hole to finish preparing him.
“He’s ready for you, Buck.”
“Finally.”
“You coulda done it yourself, you know. I didn’t have to let you two make out like horny teenagers while I did all the work.”
“You’re the best, doll,” he says as he pecks a placating kiss on Sam’s lips, not that Sam was actually mad. Quite the opposite. He’s thoroughly enjoyed getting the first taste of Zemo and getting acquainted with his body. That doesn’t mean he can’t give Bucky a hard time. That’s one of the hallmarks of their relationship, after all.
“Damn right,” he confirms once Bucky pulls back.
Then, the super soldier is hoisting Zemo up and wrapping his legs around his waist.
Another good thing about sex with a super soldier is that Bucky could probably hold anyone up without breaking a sweat. Really, Sam hasn’t managed to find a single downside to having sex with a super soldier.
“You ready?” Sam hears him ask Zemo quietly, seeking both confirmation and consent.
“Yes, James. Do it,” he says. He’s gripping tightly to Bucky’s shoulders, legs clamped around his waist. Zemo is begging to be taken with every muscle in his body, even if his words have not quite reached that level.
Bucky guides himself inside and pushes in slowly. Sam knows he’s prepared the baron thoroughly enough, but Bucky is still careful as he lowers Zemo onto his cock. Sam can’t help but admire the way the thick length bullies its way past the token resistance offered by his rim. Each of them moans as Bucky bottoms out, Bucky in pure relief at finally getting to be inside this man who has both vexed and enticed them in equal measure and Zemo in apparent surprise at having taken the entirety of Bucky’s large cock so quickly.
“Fucking hell, Sam. You gotta feel him,” Bucky groans.
“I was planning on it.”
Sam hasn’t come this close to getting what he wants just to sit back and watch.
“Gonna come so fast.” And fuck, Sam can hear it in his voice. It’s almost unbelievable how quickly Bucky’s reached this point, but then again, he’s wanted this just as long as Sam has. Maybe even longer.
“Go ahead Buck. I’ll join in next round.”
“Fuck. You mean…?”
“Yeah. That okay with you, Z?”
“Yes, yes,” Zemo says, nodding his head enthusiastically. Whether he’s aware of what agreement he and Bucky have just come to, Sam can’t say. He thinks Zemo understand, but he’s obviously eager to get fucked, and if all goes well, he’ll be eager for what comes after the first round when the time is right.
Bucky groans as he rolls his hips upwards into the tight heat of the other man’s body a few times. It’s not quite a proper fuck, but he’s working his way up to it. Or possibly going slower than he would like to stave off the impending orgasm he’s obviously on the cusp of. Either way, it takes a little time before he’s using his arms, putting more of his considerable strength into raising and lowering the baron on his cock, fucking him the best way he can given the position.
It’s so fucking hot to watch, and Sam is becoming keenly aware of just how uncomfortable the situation in his pants has gotten. He’s been hard for a while, but up until this point, it’s just been part of the fun, a little self delayed gratification as he enjoyed the sight of the other two together.
The muscles in Bucky’s flesh arm are bulging, and his body moves with a fluidity that looks so natural, he may as well be some kind of sex god. And Zemo, he’s been admiring him from afar for months now, but it’s another thing entirely getting to see all of him up close. Now that he’s had his fingers inside him, he won’t be satisfied until he’s enjoyed the fruits of his labor himself.
Unlike Bucky, or Zemo’s preferred style apparently, Sam had elected for a good ol’ fastening with a belt for his pants. Even amidst the sound of skin slapping against skin, the buckle is loud to Sam’s ears. He undoes his pants quickly, but he only has enough patience to get them and his briefs about half way down his thighs before he deems them to be far enough out of the way.
He groans in a muted sort of relief as his cock springs forth. This is only the first step towards pleasure, after all, and he won’t be completely satisfied until he’s learned the way Zemo feels inside for himself.
Sam’s hands find purchase in the indents of Zemo’s waist, just above where Bucky’s hands are holding firm to his hips. Together, they move the baron along the thick intrusion that is Bucky’s cock, not that Bucky needs his help, but the position offers him an extra layer of closeness that he appreciates.
He can feel the trembling of Bucky’s muscles, not from exhaustion but from overwhelming pleasure. His breathing is much the same, labored and telling. Sam knows the hitches in his breath well, knows what they signal, and after only a few more thrusts, he’s burying himself fully inside Zemo, holding him down on his cock as he finds completion.
“Damn, Buck,” he marvels as he traces the puffy rim of Zemo’s well-used hole. The baron whimpers and jostles himself in Bucky’s arms and on his still very hard cock, causing the first rivulets of cum to drip from his opening. Sam slides a finger in alongside with very little resistance. “Don’t think it’ll take much for us to fuck him together.”
“Do it, Sam,” Zemo encourages him, and his voice is wrecked, husky, and his accent is noticeably thicker than usual. Sam doesn’t need to be told twice. Guiding his erection into position, he prods at the hole gently a few times, slicking himself up with super soldier sperm, before increasing the pressure. The head pops in, and it’s a tight fit, but Zemo’s not telling him to stop. “Fuck. Keep going.”
He’s caught between being amazed and in utter ecstasy when his dick fits snugly alongside Bucky’s. As he takes a moment to compose himself, he brushes his lips softly against the back of Zemo’s neck, inhaling his scent.
“You good, doll?” A broad hand slides over his hip.
“Mhm.” He can tell Bucky is getting impatient. His hips are rocking minutely, but he also knows Bucky is doing his best to give him all the time he needs. “Let’s give sweet thing here the best fuck of his life.”
“Fuck, yeah,” Bucky agrees, and then his other hand is mirroring the first, finding purchase on Sam’s other hip, and he’s walking Sam back two steps until his back collides with the wall.
The impact knocks his breath from him for a moment, but he gathers himself quickly. Bucky is thrusting hard and fast into the baron, cock dragging along Sam’s. He’s not even holding the man up anymore, hands still positioned on Sam’s hips. Sam, for his part, is still holding tight to Zemo’s waist, and the man himself has his arms wrapped around Bucky’s neck, but for the most part, the baron is sandwiched between them, held up almost entirely by the friction between their torsos.
At least he’s stuck between two bodies, though. With the hard wall at his back, and the pressure applied to his front by the power of Bucky’s ferocious fucking, Sam can hardly move. He rocks his hips the best he can, managing to pull out a few inches, which he uses to fuck Zemo, but he too feels as if he’s just along for the ride that is getting fucked by a super soldier.
Zemo is not quiet, and Sam almost can’t believe this is the same man he’s known for years, the same man who has resisted their advances up until this point. He never could have imagined the perfectly poised and composed baron losing control in the throes of passion, but from the way he’s moaning, Sam might be forgiven for thinking he sounds like an absolute whore.
He’d never say it out loud, though. At least not during their first time together. He’d be far too concerned about the kind of retribution the other man might seek once he’s regained his wits. Mainly, the possibility that he might withhold his affections because Sam stuck his foot in his mouth. He wouldn’t even mean it in a bad way because fuck, Zemo’s making some of the most incredible sounds he’s ever heard, and each gasp and whimper has heat coiling ever more tightly inside his belly.
And Bucky is a force of nature, a hurricane battering the shore. Wherever the eye of the storm is, Sam’s a long way from it, caught as he is and completely at the mercy of the super soldier. Not that he’d want to be anywhere else right now. Bucky’s sharp, pointed thrusts create the most delicious drag against his own cock, and the rocking of one body translates perfectly from one to the next.
There’s not much Sam can do but hold on as he rides the waves. He and Zemo are not unalike in that aspect. The baron might be the one held between them, nothing but the bodies of his lovers to find purchase on, but Sam has just as little control.
He has even less when he finds his lips caught in a bruising kiss. Bucky has surged forward despite any obstruction Zemo’s body might pose, squishing them even more tightly together to reach him over the baron’s shoulder. By now, Sam’s having a hard time discerning where one of them ends and another begins, and he doesn’t particularly care.
Sam feels the moment Bucky’s thrusts falter, and Sam hadn’t even realized how dangerously close he was until that very moment. He’s dangling over the edge, and with one last, desperate attempt at a thrust that manages to catch Bucky’s own at the perfect moment, Sam tumbles over the edge.
The other two aren’t far behind as Bucky freezes up, and Sam can feel the way his cock twitches as he coats his insides with yet another load of cum. He’s also aware of Zemo’s body shaking to completion against his chest and under his hands.
He and Bucky pull out, careful of the baron’s tender hole, and set him down on shaky legs.
“We’ve likely scandalized a few shop employees,” Zemo breaks the silence that has settled over them.
“That’s nothing a little money can’t smooth over, right?” Sam tries for joking before catching sight of the other two’s semen-splattered shirts. Then there’s the matter of Zemo’s pants. They might be in good shape now, but they’re about to get far dirtier as three loads of cum leak from the baron’s well-fucked hole. “Maybe you can promise ‘em more business.”
“Perhaps,” he says, looking down at his clothing with distaste.
Sam wipes the sour look from his face with a kiss.