#winterlang

After the auction ends and the subsequent socialization - and social jockeying he suffers silently behind his polite smile - he steps into the back room to supervise the loading of his new stock. He stops and frowns at the omega he knows he didn’t buy. He might have purchased a lot this time, but that one he knows he didn’t. It’s the unimpressive one he’d caught a glimpse of, kneeling in the corner and swaying slightly from the heavy drugs. His hands are still bound behind him, and his chain is short where it connects to the wall. “In appreciation for your wonderful business, we’re throwing this one in free!” the proprietor enthuses when he catches Zemo’s frown. Zemo redirects the frown to the man who wilts a little under it. “What’s wrong with him?” Zemo asks bluntly. The man winces but rallies desperately. “He’s free, does it matter?” he says, smile a little unhinged. “In fact, we could give you a discount on your other purchases and throw him in too!” “You’re paying me to take him,” Zemo says with amusement. “What’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t have visitors,” Bucky says. “You’re the first.” “Surely others have requested access to you,” Thomas says. It’d be absurd if he was the first. Maybe the first to get through, but the first at all? “Sure,” Bucky says with a shrug. The chains strain a little more. “Uninteresting people.” “And I’m interesting?” Thomas asks despite himself. “You are,” Bucky says.