Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

If Sam had to describe it, he would have called it casual. It was platonic. And mutually beneficial. There was nothing else. Just friends helping each other out. That’s all it was and all it ever had been. And what he did, what he thought about, in his free time wasn’t any of Bucky’s business. 

Sure, things had changed since Steve had left them, moved on from them. Really, Bucky just needed more assurance and love lately. Platonically. And Sam was happy to give it to him with only minimal nagging. Just a few extra hugs and longer shoulder pats and more glancing smiles, just to make sure Bucky knew that Sam was there for him. Like a friend, a brother, like they always had been. 

“Jesus Christ, Barnes, get outta my way I swear-”

“What, you tryna get rid of me?”

Sam gave up on trying to reach around Bucky to switch the lamp off and laid back onto the bed. Bucky smirked and sat up farther, the lamp backlighting him, turning his body into a large silhouette. His eyes were still blown, lips still swollen and shiny and the bruises on his neck and chest were only just starting to darken. 

“Not trying to get rid of you, Buck. Promise.”

“Sap.”

Sam rolled his eyes and rolled over quickly, sitting up using his leg to catapult himself onto the other man, forcing him onto his back. He made quick work of pinning Bucky’s arms above his head, something he knew Bucky let him do. If Bucky wanted to, he could snap Sam like a twig. Sam straddled his hips, which were still tangled in the comforter and Bucky closed his eyes contently. Sam could feel Bucky’s hips making little circles, trying to get off on the friction of the sheet that Sam’s knees had pinned across his body. 

“Bucky, what the fuck.”

“What?”

“What is this, round three?”

“Only if you’ve got it in you-” Bucky smirked and faux-struggled a bit against Sam’s grip, something he knew would rile him up but Sam just chuckled a bit to himself and let him go, returning to his spot on the bed. 

“Usually you’re back to your room to sleep by now.” he remarked. 

“Can’t sleep.” Bucky replied, suddenly quiet and somber. 

Sam didn’t push it, just nodded. 

“Anything else I can do?”

Bucky shrugged. “Just been harder with Steve gone. I keep thinking he’ll come back for me.”

“Almost’d be easier if he were dead, huh?”

Bucky nodded timidly. 

“I feel the same way.” he sighed “Can’t get closure.” He smiled grimly at the end of the sentence and Bucky hummed his agreement. 

“Just glad I still…” Bucky trailed off and shook his head. He ran a hand through his hair, newly cut. Another feeble attempt at moving on, Sam had guessed. 

“Still what?”

Bucky pressed his lips together and waved it off, then made a move to get up. He sat on the edge of the bed and bent down to retrieve his sweatpants. Sam sat up too, and tugged the blanket over his lap to cover himself before reaching a hand out and putting it against Bucky’s back. It was meant to be comforting, but Bucky stiffened. Sam quickly removed his hand and began to apologize but Bucky hushed him and simply continued to put his pants on. 

Sam had learned that it was often better to leave Bucky alone. He had a habit of getting up in his own head and trying to get him out of it only resulted in more damage. He would come down on his own time. 

“Turn the light off on your way out?”

“Sure, yeah pal.”

Bucky left his shirt hanging on the bedpost. It was something Sam was guilty of too, leaving his shirts in Bucky’s bed. He still didn’t know why he did it, if it was territorial or simply an excuse to see him again. Like he was afraid he’d disappear. 

But Bucky paused with his hand on the lamp dial. 

“You sure you don’t have a third one in you?” he asked with a small smirk. 

“Bucky-! Tryna sleep!”

“Yeah yeah, sorry” he turned to go, but paused after he clicked the lamp off. “Sorry, didn’t mean to push.”

“You’re okay, Barnes, dont-”

“-can I stay?”

The question caught Sam off guard. He was quick to agree, and even in the dark he could see the wave of relief wash over Bucky’s body. He clambered back into what they both knew was ‘his’ side of the bed, only getting tangled in the rogue sheet once. 

Neither of them had ever stayed over after sex. It was one of the unwritten rules they had had. Ever since they had started fooling around during Sam and Steve’s visits to Wakanda, Sam had never slept in the same bed as him. Even when all three of them had participated in some sort of escapade (though it was always under the guise of ‘giving a helping hand’), Sam had always said goodnight and slept in his own quarters. 

It was one of many unspoken rules, and the first to be broken. 

Bucky rolled onto his side in order to face Sam, with a childish grin on his face. 

“What’re you smiling about?”

“Nothing. Go to sleep.”

It was only a few more minutes until Sam felt Bucky’s fingers snaking their way around his arm. Soon the other man was holding onto his bicep like a teddy bear and drooling onto his shoulder. Yeah it was gross, but they had done worse together. And Sam didn’t have the heart to move him.

Chapter Text

Bucky insisted on breaking Sam’s rules. 

They had initially had a ‘no cuddling’ rule, though that one was broken on the first night. Bucky was too much of a teddy bear to resist, and Sam couldn’t tell him no. That rule morphed into a ‘no kissing’ rule. Which then moved to a ‘no kissing on the mouth’ rule, then a ‘no kissing on the mouth in a not sexy way cause we can’t have anyone thinking we’re romantically entangled’ rule. 

As much as Steve had assured him that he wasn’t in charge of Bucky and had no qualms with the two of them hooking up, Sam had always had an anxious voice inside of him that demanded the unnecessary rules be followed. Bucky had protested initially, but it became quickly obvious that the boundaries Sam set were more for his own comfort than Bucky’s. At that point, Bucky quit fighting. 

“Tired?” 

Sam looked up from his phone to find Bucky standing quietly in the doorway. It was late, and Sam had been trying to doze off but any visit from Bucky was enough to make him throw all his plans out the window. 

“Not really.”

“Good.”

Bucky smirked in a way that Sam knew all too well. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, shutting out the light from the hallway’s lamp. It took Sam’s eyes a moment to find him in the dark, and when he did, Bucky was sitting on the edge of the bed kicking his slippers off. 

He didn’t start removing his shirt like Sam anticipated he would, instead moving to lay down next to him. The pair hadn’t slept in the same bed since nearly a week ago, and each night had been painful. Sam almost regretted letting Bucky stay because his absence was so much more apparent. 

When Bucky got up next to him, he still gave him that sex smile, but he anxiously tugged at the hem of his shirt. 

“You feeling okay, Buck?”

That was another rule, no pet names. 

“Yeah, ‘m okay.”

Sam placed his hand against Bucky’s thigh, hoping that despite the mixed messages he was receiving that it would be the right call. When Bucky sighed and relaxed a little he gave it a small squeeze and ran his thumb back and forth over the fabric of Bucky’s boxers. Bucky in turn relaxed further, his head tipping down. He leaned forward a bit for his shoulder and the crown of his head to meet Sam’s chest. 

Sam still struggled to tell if this was a call for physical contact, or if Bucky was truly upset and needed comforting. He had always had a difficult time deciphering Bucky’s emotions but this moment was by far the most confusing. 

He was pulled from his thoughts by a small tugging sensation around his waist. He looked down to find Bucky’s forefinger hooked in the waistband of his basketball shorts, whining. Sam had never heard a sound like that from him. Sure he’s whined before, but not something as small and soft and needy. 

“Hey,” Sam took Bucky’s hand in a way that was much more tender than he meant it to be. “Is everything really okay?”

“Need.” Bucky murmured, tilting his head up to press an open mouthed kiss to the base of Sam’s jaw. 

“Need what, Bucky, come on.”

“Need you, you make me feel good.” Bucky’s voice was small, smaller than Sam had ever heard it. Despite his need to crack a joke to try and diffuse the situation, Sam nodded tilted his friends chin up. He knew what Bucky was asking for, and he knew he wanted to give that to him, but he didn’t know if he was ready for things to change. 

Bucky closed his eyes softly, jaw held carefully in Sam’s hand. Sam leaned down a bit and pressed a small kiss to his lips. A chaste kiss, not something they had ever done together. Bucky whined again, this time louder, a noise Sam knew well. 

“Bucky, we’re not going to do any of that tonight, okay?”

“Whyy-” he slumped down again and started tugging at his T shirt. 

“I’m worried about you.”

Bucky sighed and gave him those sad puppy eyes. Sam could see his exhaustion. Press had been harassing the pair for weeks, wanting to get a statement after the defeat of Thanos. Sam knew Bucky felt guilty for taking a break despite how often Sam nagged him about just retiring. His friend deserved it more than anyone, but Bucky insisted that he would go back in the field after a month. It had been nearly two. 

He tugged on Bucky's arm and guided him into his lap, letting his legs fall on either side of his hips in a way that should have been arousing, but in this moment only exuded chaste intimacy. Bucky sat and stared at him, zoning out a little. Sam tapped on his hand to get him to come back and cupped his jaw with his other. 

“Haven’t slept well since I slept with you.” he murmured. 

“Me neither.”

Bucky tipped his head forward until it met Sam’s. He smiled and gave him another small kiss, this one a bit longer than the last. After he pulled away, Bucky wrapped his arms around his neck and collapsed into the hug. Sam chuckled a bit. 

“You wanna get to bed?”

Bucky just grumbled and nodded into Sam’s shoulder, which was telling enough. He gave him a small warning before hoisting him up a bit and turning so they could lay on their sides, still facing each other. Bucky stayed glued to Sam’s front, asking for kisses every time Sam tried to tell him it was time to go to sleep. 

Chapter Text

Sam was too nice, it was his fault. At least it was easier if Bucky told himself that it was. If he had been a little more of an asshole and cut out the whole “I’m giving you good advice cause I care and I’m gonna leave my hand on your shoulder longer than I did last time” then maybe Bucky wouldn’t be  staying up until two in the morning, when he knew Sam would finally be asleep and wouldn’t hear him touching himself to the two seconds of extra contact he had earned that day. It was Sam's fault, and any more advances that Bucky made was just karma. And yes that included his current midnight stalk to Sam’s bedroom. 

He stepped over the one squeaky floor board, not like he cared that Sam heard him, he was going to wake him anyway. He was on a sort of mission, derived from an almost crazed desire to just have Sam listen to him and understand and feel him for once. He knew it was irrational, but the part of him that was used to caring had given up, he had been left without for too long. 

Not that he was going to tell him, either. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t, ever. He was anxious, terrified even, of destroying what little he did have with Sam. Bucky had always convinced himself that since it was the closest he could safely get, he would stay content. He would stay content and leave it alone. Never tell him, because things were finally a little stable in both of their lives. He would be crazy to turn things back on their head. 

Bucky knocked on the door anyway. 

The crazed half of his brain wanted to kick the door off its hinges, tell him everything and run away to some goddamned fairy cottage and never talk to anyone else ever again. Build a little house on the shore of some creek so they could catch frogs or some shit, like Sam told him he used to do as a kid. They could have plants, in and out of the house, and maybe he could even go back to farming goats and they would be happy and alone and no more reporters would-

“Come on in.”

The little daydream fizzled in the back of Bucky’s brain because Sam was standing in the doorway, backlit by the lamp on his nightstand. He was beautiful, smiling a little, though obviously tired. He lifted an eyebrow when Bucky didn’t respond and simply stepped aside, clearing the doorway so he could come in. 

Bucky stepped forward slowly, and closed the door behind him. 

“Is everything alright?”

He just stepped forward again, eyes to the floor, and took Sam’s hand. Sam made a hesitant move to take his hand away, but he paused and let Bucky hang onto it, tracing his knuckles with his thumb. 

He should just say ‘sorry’ and leave, or maybe run to the bathroom because his heart was about to leap out of his throat. Or maybe it’d be best if he just pretended it was like every-

“Bucky?”

But Sam was back to tugging on his hand, what Bucky realized was coaxing him into a hug. 

He was going to throw up his words or else they'd tear themselves from his chest. But Bucky’s pipes were old and rusty and all he could manage was a small squeak in the shape of Sam’s name. 

“Sammy-”

“Bucky, I’m here, what the hells going on?” his voice wasn’t angry, it was patient, though urgent.

Bucky pressed his eyes closed a few times, trying to clear his mind. Instead of saying anything coherent, he pulled back from the hug only to lean forward into a kiss that turned aggressive almost immediately. Sam made him back off once their teeth had clacked together a few times, but he just chuckled and made him pause with a few kisses to his neck. 

Bucky wasn’t in love, but the way Sam ran his hands down his back to the place where his thighs met his ass made his lungs burn. Sam leaned forward just a bit to steady himself before hoisting Bucky up, who instinctually wrapped his legs around his middle. 

"You going to tell me how you're feeling or what?" Sam smirked a little, still exuding the control and confidence that kept Bucky glued to him. Bucky almost said something, almost, but instead he sunk his teeth into base of Sam's neck, earning him a groan. 

"Jesus, listen Buck-" Sam took a few steps forward so he could lay Bucky out on the bed. "I'm gonna let that one slide, 's long as you talk to me when we're done, okay?"

Bucky rolled his eyes and reached forward to pull on Sam's shirt, tugging him on top of him. Sam stumbled a bit but straddled Bucky anyway, planting his hands by the other man's waist. Bucky knew he was being needy, and maybe a little unfair, but he also knew that Sam knew how to play into it, and he trusted him more than anyone. 

"You give me a yes, okay?" he continued after Bucky let him breathe. "Or else I'm going to pull the plug on this. You can't-"

"Yes, yes, god, I'll talk just, please-" 

Sam didn't even scold him when Bucky rolled his hips up into Sam's, obviously content that he had had his way. Bucky coaxed Sam into making quick work of their clothes. Whatever crazed emotion had brought him here had yet to subside, and he kept catching himself before mumbling pet names, whining that he needed him, or going on about how perfect he was. All things that Sam allowed in moderation, but Bucky knew that if he started talking, he wouldn't stop. 

He wouldn't stop, and then Sam would get disgusted. He would get disgusted and then make him leave, and he'd stop talking to him. He'd ask him to leave the little house that he'd been letting Bucky stay in. And once Bucky left, he'd never want to see him again. And if Sam never wanted to see him again, then he'd be back to where-

"Bucky?"

His eyes stung, but he made them focus anyway. Sam looked worried, light lines etched over his forehead and eyes. They were still wrapped up in each other, albeit a little closer than Bucky remembered, chests pressed tight against one another's and hips locked tight enough that Bucky's cock ached. 

"Bucky-" Sam cupped his hand gently against the side of Bucky's face, who just blinked a little in response. He was suddenly aware of the few wet lines down his cheeks, and he felt his face flush. Sam wrapped his other arm around his back and pulled him even closer. Bucky winced when their noses brushed. 

"You know you have to stop it if I'm hurting you Bucky, I can't hurt you-"

"You're not hurting me, I'm fine"

"You started crying, I thought I was gripping you too-"

"I told you, I'm fine."

"You don't have to be an asshole about it, Buck-"

"Don't call me that."

"You never told me to stop that before."

"You've got a problem, Sam?"

"I don't- just confused, I-"

"Confused about what, Sam." Bucky's voice was bitter, face cold, and Sam just blinked. 

"I'm worried about you, Bucky."

"Worried? You never worried before, quit pretending like-"

"Like what? Quit being an asshole-"

"Like you care about me, I'm not being an asshole, you're being a liar-!"

"I never lied Bucky-! Never, you know that's-"

"No, you're a liar."

"The fuck is wrong with you? I always-"

"Always what, Sam?" Bucky nearly yelled, despite their faces being a fraction apart. 

Sam paused, opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again. He let go of Bucky's face and Bucky could feel his heart drop right into his gut. Sam took his time untangling them, and spent a moment staring at Bucky's hands when he removed them from his waist. 

"I think you need some space, Bucky. Or I do, or-"

"Okay."

Sam sat back and looked at Bucky, who suddenly felt vulnerable and far too exposed. He moved to draw his knees up to his chest.

"Just like that?" he asked quietly. 

"You were the one who yelled, Bucky. I don't know how to help you."

"Sam-"

"I don't want you to go, but if you need to, that's okay."

Bucky sat up a little further. 

"You don't want me to go?"

"Course not."

Bucky nodded a little and the pair sat in silence for a few minutes. He stifled a few more tears and stared at the duvet while Sam waited patiently for him to speak again. Instead of saying anything, Bucky scooted a few inches closer and held his arms out.

"Words, Bucky." Sam scolded gently, something he normally just teased Bucky about, however, Bucky knew Sam genuinely wanted him to speak up. 

"I need you."

Sam's face softened and he closed the distance between them to wrap Bucky up in a hug. Bucky's insides churned with the pain of not being able to just say it. It was almost like his body shut down the moment he wanted to express anything important. As if he wasn't physically capable of saying I love you.

Sam adjusted himself so they could lean against the headboard together. He rocked Bucky a little as his breathing became shaky again, and pressed a few kisses to his cheek. 

"You need to talk to me more."

"I know."

"I worry about you, Bucky."

"I know you do." Bucky tucked his face into Sam's neck. "I'm sorry I yelled."

"So, you gonna talk now?"

Bucky looked up to find Sam smiling a little, and he couldn't help but smile back. He tilted his head up so their noses brushes before giving him a small kiss. He felt safe, secure. He felt cared about. Sam smiled and hummed, quietly asking for another one. Bucky gave him little kisses until he laughed, and then placed them all over his cheek. He felt at home, albeit still a little guilty for yelling. But he knew Sam had forgiven him, and he'd keep on forgiving him, because maybe he did love him back. 

"You feel safe, Sam."

Sam paused for a moment, "What are you trying to say?"

Bucky stared up at him, every little part of his body shutting down one by one. It hurt. It was physically painful to be so close, but he knew he couldn't lie forever. Sam had been too good to him and he deserved better than to be lied to. He took his time working up the courage to speak, let Sam hum softly and kiss along the side of his face. He let himself be rocked and taken care of until he had the strength to open up. 

"Hey, Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."