Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sam flopped down on the hotel bed.  Today was surprising.  And that means a lot coming from a guy who spent months in a scary underwater jail, followed by months on the run, followed by reuniting with a group of superheroes to fight an alien that looked like a giant purple thumb, only to lose that fight and spend five years as a pile of dust drifting in the wind of Wakanda and then wake up and jump right into another battle with the giant purple thumb-looking alien (but from the past?). 

When he came to Georgia for Tony’s funeral, he never expected to walk away with the shield.  It was sitting in a leather bag in the corner, the echoes of all of its implications and expectations were deafening.  There it sat, a hunk of metal, stolen from Wakanda, much like his ancestors were once ripped from their ancestral lands, and handed to Howard Stark, a powerful white man.  And while ultimately, it was used by Steve Rogers, one of the best men Sam had ever known, Steve never could grasp how the shield’s meaning was complicated.  Captain America and the Howling Commandos, along with so many other soldiers, fought against hatred and oppression in Germany.  The shield was a shining emblem of the American ethos – of freedom and justice for all.  For all?  Not for the black soldiers that returned home only to have crosses burned on their lawns, to be turned away at the polls.  And while some things may have improved since Steve first plunged into that freezing water, he woke up in a nation still divided.  A nation where simply existing while black is a life-threatening condition.  What would it mean for Sam to wield that symbol? 

He was pulled out of his thoughts from Bucky barging into the room.  “Can I sleep in here?”

They were staying in one of the suites that Pepper had graciously reserved.  Scott and Hope had taken the room with the king bed.  Clint was on a pull out in the living room.  Sam was sitting on one of the two full size beds in the second bedroom.  “Umm…I think Rhodey is staying in here.”

“Yeah…I um…asked him to switch,” Bucky answered, as he slowly walked in and closed the door behind him.

 “What now that Steve’s gone you wanna be best buds?”

“No its just…” Bucky sat on the other bed, “I have nightmares.  Steve um…he said you might…understand.”

Sam sighed.  Of course Bucky had nightmares.  The man has been through hell and back.  The fact that he can even function after Hydra turned his brains into scrambled eggs is incredible.  But Sam would never tell him that.  “Yeah.  I get it.”

“Didn’t want to freak anyone out,” Bucky shrugged, “also…that creepy raccoon thing was staying in the other room and he kept trying asking me what it would take for me to give him my arm.”

Laughing, Sam said, “That thing is weird as hell.  They’re all weird the uh…what do they call themselves?”

“Guardians of the galaxy,” Bucky answered rolling his eyes.  “Blue chick is kinda cool.” 

Sam nodded.  Then they sat in silence for a moment.  Sam started to take his shoes off and grab his bag to change into sweats.  Bucky just took his jacket and pants off, staring at the bed in his boxers and t-shirt. 

“It’s soft as hell,” Sam said, “I won’t judge if you sleep on the floor.”  Bucky looked at him relieved.  “I told you,” he said in a reassuring voice, I get it.  When I got back from Afghanistan, I slept on the floor for over a year.  Too used to sleeping on the ground.”

“I’m still not used to not sleeping in a freezer,” Bucky said as he pulled the blanket off his bed and put it on the ground with a pillow. 

“How long have you been out?” Sam asked, “I mean…not counting the five years that we didn’t exist.”

“A little under a year,” he answered.

“They give you a bed in Wakanda?”

Bucky shook his head.  “At first, before they figured out how to…before it was clear the words didn’t work anymore, I insisted they restrain me at night.  I was afraid I’d wake up and not be me.  Then they gave me a little hut in the country side.  There was a bed but…the ground was better.”

Sam was laughing, “I cannot picture you on a country side.” 

“I wonder what happened to the goats when we….well when were gone.”

“Goats?  You’re just messing with me right?  You had goats?”

Bucky glared up at him as he got settled in his make shift bed.  “They weren’t my goats.  I just looked after them.” 

“Whatever you say ol’ McDonald,” Sam said as he laid in the bed he’d claimed as his.

Bucky scoffed.  “I hate you.” 

Sam was too exhausted to answer.  Usually trading insults with Bucky brought him so much joy.  But it was a little deflated by the fact that as much as he was going to miss Steve, he was sure it was worse for Bucky.  And clearly Steve expected Sam not only to carry on as Captain America but to look after this clown.  Why else would he tell Bucky that Sam would understand that he had nightmares?  Of course, Sam would look after Bucky.  Not because Steve wanted it but because he honestly wanted to.  As annoying as the guy could be, Sam couldn’t help it.  Part of it may have been guilt, for telling Steve that Bucky might not be worth saving.  Part of it might be that when he’s not fighting or complaining, Bucky just looks like a scared, lost puppy and it’s almost impossible not to want to help him.  For now, Sam just needed some goddamn sleep, and luckily, he drifted away quickly.

Sam was woken up a few hours later by someone speaking a language he didn’t recognize.  It took him a moment to get his bearings and realize it was coming from the man beneath him.  He knew better than to wake him up.  He let him continue, he was thrashing a little and whimpering.  Eventually, Bucky jolted awake.  His eyes were frantically scanning the room until they landed on Sam, who was sitting on the edge of the bed looking down at him.

“Hey,” Sam whispered, “do you know where you are?”

Bucky looked around slowly, then back to Sam, and nodded. 

“Do you know…who…you are?” Sam asked.

Bucky sighed.  Then started shaking as he nodded again. 

Sam slowly got off the bed and sat next to Bucky on the floor.  He gently placed a hand on Bucky’s thigh, making sure Bucky saw it coming so he could stop him if he didn’t want to be touched.  “It was just a dream.” He said soothingly.

“A memory.  It was a memory…I um…I killed him.  Stark.”

“What no you didn’t…” Sam stopped, realizing Bucky was not talking about Tony.  “Oh.”  He paused.  “That wasn’t you.”

“He recognized me,” Bucky said in a shaky voice, “he smiled…right before I…” Bucky couldn’t choke out the rest of his words as he started sobbing.  Sam was pressed up closely against him, rubbing soothing circles where his hand rested on Bucky’s leg.  He knew there wasn’t much he could say to help right now.  Suddenly, Bucky looked up at him, tears in his big blue eyes, and asked, “Why am I here?”

Sam looked down at him confused.  “You asked to switch rooms with…”

“No…I mean…why am I…alive?  Why did he bring me back?”

A tear streamed down Sam’s cheek.  “He brought back everyone, I don’t think…look it doesn’t matter.  What matters is you’re alive.  We’re alive.” 

“I don’t feel alive.” Bucky said quietly. 

Perhaps for the first time since they met, Sam agreed with Bucky.  Coming back felt…well…it didn’t feel like he was even gone.  But then, once the battle was over, and he went back to Louisiana to see that his two nephews were no longer toddlers, his sister was more worn and full of worry, and the family boat was in more disrepair than it had been when he left.  He felt so disconnected.  The same disconnection he felt with the shield when he held it.  Like he came back to a world he didn’t quite fit in. 

Bucky leaned into Sam’ chest.  Then, he looked up, his blue eyes meeting Sam’s brown eyes.  Sam gave him a soft smile.  He moved closer, closing the gap between them, so his lips were grazing Sam’s.

“What are you—

Bucky cut Sam off by kissing him softly.  He pulled back slightly and whispered.  “Please,” before leaning back in and kissing Sam again.  This time, Sam kissed back and Bucky deepened this kiss.  But Sam grabbed each of Bucky’s shoulders and pulled their bodies apart.

“Bucky – no.  This isn’t.  We can’t.  You’re upset and…”

“Please,” Bucky repeated, his eyes big and pupils slightly dilated.  Some of his long hair falling in front of his eyes.  Sam brushed it behind his ear.  Bucky placed one of his hands between Sam’s legs and whispered into his ear, “just let me make you feel good.  Please, Sam.  Let me make you feel alive.”

Sam had to hold back a moan when Bucky touched him like that.  He felt guilty for being turned on.  He’d never done anything with a man before, but there was no denying that Bucky was beautiful.  And the way the light from the window bounced of him made him look downright angelic as he practically begged to touch Sam.  Sam was still trying to push Bucky away when Bucky began to plant wet kisses on his jaw and neck.  His dick twitched at the feeling, which Bucky obviously felt, because he mewled when it happened. 

Suddenly, whatever self-control he had been clinging to was gone.  Sam put his hand in Bucky’s long hair and tugged it back so they were face to face, then kissed him.  It wasn’t soft like before.  It was rough.  All tongue and teeth.  His other hand was on Bucky’s back, drifting under his t-shirt and gripping at his sweat-sheened skin, pulling him in closer.  Eventually, Bucky broke the kiss to lift his shirt over his head.  If Sam had any self-awareness at the moment he probably would have been embarrassed by his reaction to seeing Bucky’s bare chest.  The man was pure muscle, with the exception of the vibranium arm, which was beautiful in its own right, the lines of gold reflecting the moonlight.  He backed away a little so he could see take it all in. 

“I can put it back on,” Bucky said quietly, “if the scars…if it bothers you.”

“No!” Sam practically shouted.  Then he cupped Bucky’s face in each of his hands.  “God no, you’re perfect,” he whispered. He allowed one of his hands to travel down Bucky’s torso, tracing the scars and ridges and rippling muscles.  Bucky then moved closer, placing one of his thighs on either side of Sam’s lap, and meeting him for another bruising kiss, grinding down into him. 

Bucky’s hands were traveling all over Sam’s body.  His shoulders, his chest, his stomach.  The vibranium wasn’t cold, but it was cooler than the flesh hand and a smoother texture.  The two different sensations were driving Sam crazy.  He fisted his hands in Bucky’s hair, tugging harshly, so he could access Bucky’s neck.  He travelled kisses down before biting on Bucky’s collarbone, eliciting a moan. 

“I want you,” Bucky whispered in Sam’s ears.

Sam laughed a little.  “Yeah I got that,” he mumbled into the skin on Bucky’s neck.

Bucky slid off of Sam’s lap, then pulled Sam on top of him as he laid down on his back, his feet flat on the floor.  He looked up at Sam, his pupils blown wide.  “I want you,” he repeated, shimmying himself out of his boxers, and tugging at the waist band of Sam’s sweats and pushing them down.  Sam kicked them off the rest of the way.

Sam propped himself up by placing a hand on either side of Bucky’s head.  “I’ve never…I mean not with…” he said.

Bucky reached down and gripped both of their erections in one hand, slowly stroking them.  Sam threw his head back and moaned.  “We can just do this if you want,” Bucky said, “but I want to feel you inside of me.”

Sam nearly came just by hearing Bucky say it, especially looking up at him the way he was.  “Don’t we need...you know…like lube?”

“It would make things easier,” Bucky smiled, “but I have a high threshold for pain.”

Sam winced at that.  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then I guess we’ll just have to go slow,” Bucky said softly.  He stopped his ministrations with his hand and grabbed Sam’s wrist.  Sam shifted his weight to his other side and let Bucky guide his hand.  Bucky took two of Sam’s fingers into his mouth, sucking at them lavishly.  Now this was giving Sam other ideas, but he wanted to give Bucky what he wanted.  Bucky released his hand and nodded at him.  Sam had absolutely no idea what he was doing, but he brought his hand down between them as Bucky spread his legs.  Sam rested his knees on the ground between them.  He brought his fingers down, finding Bucky’s entrance.  He gently rubbed circles on it with his spit slick index finger, looking intently at Bucky, who was somewhere between whimpering and moaning.  Slowly, he pressed the finger in.  God it was tight.  Bucky seemed to tense up a little.  He stopped.

“Keep going,” Bucky pleaded.  Sam placed his other hand on Bucky’s abs, lightly brushing his fingertips up and down.  He pushed in further as he felt Bucky relax around him.  He began to slide it in and out, slowly, until Bucky looked at him desperately and begged, “more.”  He added his middle finger now, both sliding in slowly until he was knuckle deep. 

“You have to, move them,” Bucky panted, “stretch me,” he was pushing down to get more contact but Sam steadied his hips and whispered “I’ve got you.”

Sam started moving his fingers in and out, spreading them apart, trying different angles.  He curved his fingers up and Bucky threw his head back gasping in pleasure.  He repeated the motion again.  He could just do this forever and watch the way it made Bucky react.  Except his cock was throbbing and Bucky was crying “please fuck me.”  He added a third finger, being sure to brush that same spot a few more times and stretch Bucky a little more.  When he removed his hand, Bucky whined at the loss of contact.  Then he moaned at the obsene sight and sound of Sam spitting on his palm and stroking himself a few times. 

Sam crawled up over him so they were lying face to face.  This was much more intimate than Bucky was used to.  When he had been with men in the military, they’d always insisted he turn around, probably to pretend he was a woman.  Not that he cared, he was picturing someone else any way.  And when he was being brainwashed…well….that was even worse.  But this, Sam’s copper eyes hovering above him and looking at him with care, it was all consuming.  His head felt more fuzzy and empty than it ever did post electric shock.  There was nothing in the world other than him and Sam.  Sam, who was currently looking at him and whispering, “are you sure?”  And he knew that he could say no, and Sam would just smile and say okay and move away.  Not that he would dream of it.  He bit his bottom lip and nodded.  “Please, Sam,” he begged.

And now Sam was moving into him slowly, like Bucky was made of glass, while he had a hand delicately brushing Bucky’s cheek, and his eyes were unwavering.  This was the first time in nearly a century that Bucky felt completely safe and grounded.  The first time he wasn’t desperate to crawl back into the nothingness he’d experienced when the Winter Soldier took over, just to get some quiet.  There was no where he’d rather be in this moment. 

When Sam’s hips were flush against Bucky’s, he paused, allowing Bucky to adjust.  He smiled down that soft, gapped tooth smile.  “You’re amazing.”  He said it so sincerely, Bucky almost believed it. 

A million words were swirling around Bucky’s head, but the only one he spoke was “move.”  And Sam did.  Slowly, but not lazily.  His hands never leaving Bucky’s skin, softly touching his face.  And just when Bucky thought he was going to melt into the god damn floor because Sam was being so gentle, Sam ran his hand gently down his left arm.  He shivered and moaned.  “You can feel that?” Sam asked.

“it’s umm…connected to my nerves,” he answered, “it feels…different…but I can.” 

Sam picked up Bucky’s hand, bringing it up to his mouth, kissing it.  The arm is still new, but just like the old one, just like most of Bucky’s body, its only human contact has been violence.  Sam kisses the palm.  Then each knuckle.  Then he wraps his lips around two of Bucky’s fingers and sucks them as he picks up his speed inside of Bucky, thrusting deeper, and moans around them. 

Bucky’s right hand is grabbing Sam’s hip now, and he’s meeting his thrusts.  Each one hitting Bucky’s prostate and sending him closer over the edge as he watches Sam coming apart himself.  He can feel his finger tips on the flat of Sam’s tongue, and he presses down a little.  Sam moans and let’s go of Bucky’s vibranium wrists so that he can grip each side of Bucky’s waist, hard enough to leave bruises.  Bucky starts using his fingers to explores Sam’s mouth as Sam’s thrusts become erratic. 

Sam pops off Bucky’s fingers.  “Touch yourself baby,” he says, then licks a stripe up the vibranium palm.  Bucky’s eyes go even wider when he realizes that Sam wants him to use that hand.  The moment he grips himself with the smooth metal Bucky is gone.  He swipes his thumb over the head, sliding pre cum over himself and pumps himself twice before he is spilling onto his stomach and practically seeing stars.  Sam is quick to follow, the feeling of Bucky clenching around him and the sight of him finding his release making Sam tumble over the edge. 

Sam is breathing ragged as he pulls out of Bucky and flops himself down on the floor next to him.  His fingers brush lightly against Bucky’s and he doesn’t have the energy to grip, but just lets them stay like that, lightly touching, as they both come down.  For the first time since they’ve been back, Sam knows he’s alive. 

“Wow,” Sam finally says, smiling, “that was…wow.”

“Mmmhmmm,” Bucky responds sleepily.  Sam sits up and reaches up to grab a few tissues from the night stand and uses them to clean Bucky’s stomach.  Bucky nearly purrs at the gentle touches.  Then Sam tosses the tissue into the waste basket and grabs a pillow off the bed.  He accidentally drops it on Bucky’s face, laughing at the annoyed groan, before placing it underneath him and pulling the discarded blanket over them.  Sam kisses Bucky’s temple and falls onto the pillow.  When he hears Bucky’s breathing finally even out, he drifts away again.

***

It had been a long time since Bucky had woken up peacefully.  He felt safe, an arm wrapped around his waist.  He turned around as slowly as he possibly could, so as not to wake Sam.  Sam was everything Bucky wasn’t.  He was good and stable.  He understood pain, loss, and struggling, but he didn’t let it destroy him.  He still had a laugh that lit up a room.  Steve saw it too.  It’s why he gave him the shield. 

Bucky could lay like this forever, being held by this perfect man.  He could let Sam keep him safe from the nightmares.  Let him softly caress him and say “it’s all going to be okay,” every time he woke up screaming.  But that would be selfish.  Carrying on Steve’s legacy didn’t mean picking up the broken pieces of Bucky Barnes.  Bucky couldn’t ask Sam to do that. 

He had nothing to offer Sam.  Well, he had his body.  But even that was selfish.  He wanted Sam.  He begged for Sam.  And Sam took pitty on him and gave in.  At least Sam seemed to enjoy it.  And Sam was a good man.  So he would probably wake up, and want to talk about Bucky’s feelings, and smile at him all perfectly, and Bucky would never be strong enough to walk away, and Sam would never be selfish enough to make him leave. . 

***

The sunlight is glaring into his eyes when Sam opens them.  He is lying on the ground, alone and naked, with blanket covering him.  He sits up confused, adjusting to the unfamiliar surroundings.  There’s an empty pillow next to him.  Remembering the night before, he stands up, pulling his sweat pants back on.  Bucky’s backpack that was sitting on the chair in the corner of the room is gone. 

He goes into the living room are where Clint is making coffee as the t.v. plays in the background.  “Hey man,” Sam says, “did you umm…did you see Bucky leave?”

“Left around 4 a.m.,” Clint said, “tried to be sneaky but, I’m a light sleeper.”  Then he looked at Sam with his eyebrows raised and repeated, “I’m a very light sleeper.”

Sam blushed.  He didn’t even attempt to muffle his sounds the night before.  He’s had sex in a shared space before and has always been careful.  But last night it didn’t even occur to him that anyone else was outside the door.  Honestly, it didn’t occur to him that anyone else existed. 

“Sorry,” Sam said, “I um…” Sam groaned, sitting down at the counter, “I have no idea what the hell I’m doing.”

Clint shrugged, “don’t think there’s a handbook for what to do when you are suddenly snapped back into existence.”

“I’m a mess,” Sam said.

“Could’ve been worse.” Clint deadpanned, “You could’ve gotten a Mohawk.”

Sam laughed.  Hope and Scott came out of their bedroom.  “Do I smell coffee?” Scott asked.

“Gang’s all meeting downstairs for brunch in an hour,” Clint said, holding his phone up.  “I’m not making it that long without caffeine.”

Hope poured them each a cup.  They sat sipping their coffee.  Scott looked around, “where’s the scary guy?”

“He had to leave early,” Clint answered while Sam was trying to think of what to say.  They didn’t ask any follow up questions.  The group chatted.  They sounded like they were talking somewhere far away.  Sam looked back to the open door to the bedroom.  He could hear the echoing again.  The shield was taunting him from the other room.  Joined by the sheets on the floor.  They were telling him he would be rejected.  He was rejected.  Steve trusted Sam with the two things he cared about most.  Sam had already failed one of them. 

Chapter Text

After fishing the final Flagsmasher out of the water, Sam left him with the police.  The next few hours of handshaking and smiling were a blur.  He felt heavy.  The weight of all that came with picking up the mantle was now resting on his shoulders.  As the adrenaline of the fight wore off, it only got heavier.  He needed to get away from the flashing lights of the police and rescue cars.  He should have asked Bucky to stay.  Sharon could have found her own damn way to wherever it was she was going—if she was too stubborn to get medical attention that wasn’t his fault.  These past few weeks, he didn’t realize how much having Bucky helped.  Even if he would have just stood there glaring and not saying a word.  Though that may have scared away all the people shoving microphones at Sam’s face. 

He hated that glare.  That stupid, obnoxious, impossible to read glare.  I mean, the guy left him naked and alone on a hotel room floor, disappeared for months, and bulldozed back into his life glaring at him like he was the bad guy.  At first, Sam had felt a little guilty.  He felt like he fucked everything up by giving in to Bucky’s pleas.  Told himself that if he had just supported him as a friend, Bucky would have stayed.  Then, after being ghosted for so long, he realized that Bucky just didn’t want him around. 

Or at least that’s what he thought, until Bucky showed up in Louisiana, all tight shirts and smiles.  He almost got the courage to bring up that night when they were practicing with the shield.  Instead, he stupidly agreed to them being just “a couple of guys.” 

But now, after everything, he felt himself looking to his side for Bucky, only to find no one there.  An explosion went off in the distance.  The reporters and first responders rushed away and he flew up, seeing the van transporting the Flagsmashers had been blow up.  He landed at the scene.  Sending redwing into the wreckage.  There were no survivors.  There were no other devices on any of the other vehicles.  Local law enforcement told him they could handle the rest. 

Without a second thought, he told redwing to take him to Brooklyn.  

***

Bucky could have waited until tomorrow to talk to Yori, but Bucky was afraid he would chicken out again.  It was late, but right now Bucky was still high enough on adrenaline and inspired enough by Sam’s speech to get through this.  And he did.  It was hard.  Probably the hardest thing he’s ever had to do.  And when it was over, he didn’t feel any relief, but he knew it was the right thing to do.  Hopefully, now that he knows, Yori will find peace. 

Except now, Bucky is back in his apartment, still in his tactical gear, crying alone on the couch, and the empty walls are closing in on him.  Yori and Leah are the only two people he’s connected with, though that connection wasn’t very deep, and he severed that.  No more lunches or terribly awkward dates.  It had been nice, having people to just say hello to.  People who treated him like a person.

The only other people like that were in Wakanda, and he ruined that, and Louisiana, and well, it was separate long vacation time, right?  He shouldn’t have left Sam to deal with everything.  But Sharon was bleeding and he couldn’t just let her go off God knows where.  So he drove her to some address she said was safe in Manhattan, and walked her up to a swanky penthouse, before coming back to Brooklyn.  It’s not like he could have done anything to help Sam, but he didn’t like the idea of him being out there alone.  Actually, he didn’t like the idea of himself being in here alone.  There was so much he should have said to him, but instead he made a dumb joke about texting. 

A tap on the window snaps him out of his thoughts.  He jumps up, holding a knife back ready to throw it at the intruder.  He lowers it when he sees the familiar gap toothed grin and goofy wave.  Sam closes his wings as he is standing on the fire escape.  Damn that outfit looks good.  And if Shuri ever tells Sam how specific he was in his directions about the suit, he may just have to jump out of another plane without a chute, much higher up, above very, very pointy rocks. 

He opens the window and Sam climbs in.  He looks tired.  Despite his smile, his shoulders hang low.  “Hey man – don’t really feel like flying all the way back to Louisiana, mind if I crash on your…” Sam looks around…”Only piece of furniture.”

Bucky shakes his head, “couch is all yours.  But take a shower first.  You smell like you just went for a swim in the Hudson.”

“Is that anyway to talk to Captain America?” Sam teased.

Bucky groaned.  “Out there,” he said pointing to the window, “you’re Captain America.  In here- you’re my annoying house guest.  Now be nice if you want me to lend you something to sleep in.”

Sam cocked an eyebrow, “you saying you don’t want me walking around in my birthday suit?”  The implications of his quip hit him after he’d said it.  His face immediately dropped into a more solemn expression and he could hear Bucky swallowing at the air. 

They never talked about that night in the hotel room after the funeral.  Sam called Bucky later that day.  and the day after that.  And sent him countless messages – first daily, then weekly.  And Bucky never responded.  He felt bad, sure, but, what was there to say.  Eventually, he hoped, Sam would admit Bucky was a lost cause and stop trying to save him.  Then he saw Walker with the shield, and planned to just go ask Sam about it (yes he could have done that over the phone but…maybe he wanted to see him).  Then Sam was yelling about Gandalf and there were super soldiers and he just wanted to get this stupid mission over with and never see the guy again.  And somewhere between Munich and Louisiana that changed. 

“I’ll go get you something,” Bucky said dismissively.  He came back with a tshirt, boxers, and sweat pants, on top of a towel.  He shoved them at Sam without making eye contact. 

Sam started walking toward the bathroom and suddenly stopped.  “You haven’t changed,” he said.

“Excuse me?” Bucky asked.

“Your clothes,” Sam clarified, realizing that Bucky had likely taken the statement as having much more significance than he intended.  “You left a while ago.  Why haven’t you changed?”

“Made a pit stop.” Bucky answered.

Sam leaned on the arm rest of the couch.  “Wanna talk about it?”

“Nope,” Bucky shrugged, ignoring Sam as he rummaged through his fridge for a beer.

Sam sat quietly for a moment watching him.  He had the beer in his hand and was clearly pretending to look around still so he didn’t have to turn around.  Sam waited him out.  Eventually he closed the door and turned.  He leaned against the fridge.  “Not right now,” he said defeated, “I want to talk about it.  Just not right now.  Today has been long enough.”  He opened the beer and took a sip.

Sam nodded.  “Wanna take a shower with me?”

Bucky turned and spit the beer into the sink.  “What?”

Sam smiled.  “Do you want to take a shower with me?” Sam repeated slower.  Bucky just stared at him, slack jawed.  Sam walked up closer to him, cornering him against the fridge.  “Look you were right…today was a long day.  And I don’t know if I should feel glad we technically won or sad that the win meant lives were lost or terrified that tomorrow the whole world is going to be criticizing every decision we made and every word I said on that camera.”  He put his fingers under Bucky’s chin to tilt his head up.  “I just know that for some reason, you’re the only person that somehow makes days like today better.  And I really want to feel better right now.”

“Sam…I... ”

“It’s okay,” Sam said, slowly taking his suit off.  “I’m going to go take a shower,” he said, steeping out of the pants.  “You can join me, if you want.”  He grabbed the towel and clean clothes and walked away in just his underwear, leaving Bucky speechless. 

The bathroom was as barren as the rest of the apartment.  There was a bar of soap and a bottle of 2-in-one shampoo and conditioner in the shower, and a single tooth brush and toothpaste on the counter.  Everything was white and one of the fluorescent lightbulbs was flickering.  It was annoying so Sam loosened it, leaving the room half darkened.  Sam had seen more homey bathrooms while he was on the run staying in shitty motels.  At least the shower was pretty spacious.  He turned the water on, stepping under once it was warm enough.  The room quickly filled with steam and Sam let the hot water run over him, relaxing his tense muscles. 

Some of the steam escaped as the door slipped open.  Bucky silently walked in, closing the door behind him.  The glass of the shower door was fogged up enough that they couldn’t really see each other.  Bucky was just standing there, quietly.  Sam opened the glass door half way and after a moment, Bucky stepped in. 

Sam gave him one of those soft smiles.  The kind they shared in the hotel room.  The kind Bucky missed like crazy even though they were sparingly flashed at him while they were fixing the boat or practicing with the shield in Louisiana.  But those had been quick, neither man brave enough to hold that feeling, quick to cover it up with a joke or a jibe.  Bucky didn’t even realize he was smiling back until Sam said he liked his smile, which only caused it to widen.

When Sam crowded him, he thought he was going to kiss him, but he just reached behind Bucky and grabbed his shampoo bottle.  Bucky tilted his head in confusion, unsure why Sam would need shampoo.  Then Sam poured some in his hands and began working it into Bucky’s scalp.  Bucky had to grab Sam’s waist to stop his knees from buckling at the gentle touched.  Sam moved his fingers slowly, but with pressure, for what felt like either 5 seconds or 5 hours, before guiding Bucky’s head under the water.  As Bucky was under the steady stream, his eyes closed tight, Sam leaned in and kissed him.  Bucky was pliant in his arms, quickly parting his lips to grant Sam entry, and moaning into his every touch.

After a few moments, Bucky tightened his grip around Sam, pushing them out of the water and taking control of the kiss.  Sam probably would have just let himself suffocate if Bucky hadn’t pulled away and left him gasping for air.  Before Sam could lean back in to the kiss, Bucky dropped to his knees.  He kept his blue eyes wide open and stared at Sam as he took him all the way into his mouth without warning.

Sam’s head made a thud against the shower tile when he felt the back of Bucky’s throat.  He wanted to close his eyes and stay like that, but he couldn’t, not knowing what he would be missing.  So he looked back down to watch as Bucky bobbed his head, Sam disappearing between those gorgeous lips. 

Sam wrapped his fingers in Bucky’s short hair and pulled him off, tilting his chin up.  “I’m not gonna last if you keep that up.”

Bucky licked his lips and pouted, looking back down at Sam’s cock.  Pre-cum was dripping out of it and Bucky leaned forward slightly, lapping it up with his tongue and moaning, without breaking eye contact.

“Good god,” Sam whispered, “you’re gonna be the death of me.”

Bucky smiled and stood up, kissing Sam.  Sam could taste himself on Bucky’s tongue.  Without breaking the kiss, Bucky slid the glass door open and opened a small drawer in the sink, shuffling his hands around.  Then he closed the door and plopped a small bottle of lube into Sam’s hands. 

“I see we’re more prepared this time…” Sam teased.

Bucky responded by turning around and placing his palms flush against the tile, then looking back over his shoulder.  “You know,” Bucky said and winked, “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to get fucked by Captain America.”

Sam slapped his ass, hard.  Bucky whimpered.  “That’s for making me think about Steve while we’re doing this.”  He slapped him again.  “That’s for breaking Zemo out of jail without telling me.”  The third was hardest.  “That’s for leaving me alone in that hotel room in Georgia.”  And then another, “That is for not answering any of my texts for six months.” 

Bucky was about to look back when another slap didn’t come, but he didn’t get the chance.  Sam shoved two lube fingers into him without warning, immediately finding his prostate, and massaging it relentlessly as Bucky shook and moaned.  “And this…” he said, pulling Bucky up by his hair and whispering in his ear, “this is for helping me with the boat.”  Bucky was already a moaning mess and he let his head drop back on Sam’s shoulder.  The hand that was in his hair came around and gripped his cock.  “This is for the suit,” Sam whispered as he began stroking him. 

Bucky was biting his lip trying not to scream.  “Let me hear those pretty sounds you make baby,” Sam said, “you had no problem letting Clint hear you scream for me.”

“Oh god Sam…I’m gonna…I’m gonna…”  Sam added a third finger as he bit down on Bucky’s shoulder and he could feel Bucky spill onto his hand.  His whole body shaking as he yelled Sam’s name. 

Before Bucky had a chance to fully catch his breath, Sam removed his fingers and replaced it with his slicked up cock, eliciting a loud moan from the oversensitive super soldier when he was fully sheathed.  “You okay baby?” Sam asked.  Bucky looked back at him and nodded.  “You have no idea what those blue eyes do to me,” Sam said as he began to thrust in and out slowly. 

“Want to…see you…” Bucky said, struggling to crane his neck. 

Sam slipped out of Bucky and let Bucky turn around.  Bucky was immediately grabbing his face and kissing him.  Sam backed them up to the wall and patted Bucky to wrap his legs around Sam.  He entered him again, their foreheads pressed together. 

“Better?” Sam asked.

Bucky nodded and kissed him again.  Sam began to pick up his speed, and Bucky gripped onto the top of the shower with his left hand, holding most of his body weight up on his own, allowing Sam to use his strength to thrust into him.  He felt a tightness and warmth building in him again and his vibranium fingers shattered the ceramic tile as he came for a second time, spilling onto Sam’s torso.  “Fuck!” Sam yelled as he thrust harder, ramming into Bucky’s prostate over and over chasing his own orgasm, and milking every last drop out of Bucky.  Bucky was still coming untouched across his chest when Sam found his own release, spilling into Bucky.   

Bucky let his legs fall to the ground as Sam rested his head on Bucky’s cool, metal shoulder.  He felt Buck moving, but stayed still, humming when he felt the bar of soap sliding gently across his back.  When they were both clean, Sam shut the water off.  Bucky walked out and grabbed one of the towels he brought in, handing the other to Sam.

Sam walked out of the shower and grabbed Bucky’s face, kissing him on the forehead.  “Since this is your apartment…is it safe for me to assume you’ll still be here when I wake up?”

Bucky nodded.  “Sam, I’m sorry that I—“

“No,” Sam shook his head.  “I asked because I really want to talk about this.  We need to talk about this.  But we can do it tomorrow.  Right now I just want to go to sleep next to you….You do have a bed right?”

“Yes,” Bucky answered, “Never actually used it but…can’t think of a better person to share it with.”

Sam shoved at him.  “Dork.”

Bucky shoved back.  “Jerk.”

Chapter Text

Sam woke up unable to move.  He looked down and smiled when he saw the black and gold arm across his chest.  He turned his head slightly to see Bucky, mouth slightly open, drooling on his pillow.  If only he could reach his phone from here, he could use this picture to torment Bucky forever.

He tried to stretch a little but the movement woke Bucky up.  Bucky blinked a few times then smiled at him and softly said, “hey.”

“Hey bionic man,” Sam said smiling back, “think you could let me move a little bit?”

Bucky looked down at his arm and moved it.  “Sorry.  I can take it off when we…”

“No.” Sam said.  “I mean…not for me.  If you ever want to you can.  But, I don’t mind it…wait did you just imply that we’d be sleeping together again?”

Bucky sat up.  “I hope so.”

Sam chuckled.  Bucky could get used to waking up to the sound of his laugh.  “I could stay here a few days.” Sam said.

“No,” Bucky answered quickly.  Sam looked at him confused.  “Sorry.  It’s just.  I’m not…ready.  Not yet.  I still have names in my book.  And its just something I have to do by myself.”

“You sure you’re not just running away again?” Sam asked. 

“When I left you in that hotel room it wasn’t…I wasn’t running away.  Not exactly.  I thought I was setting you free.  I was just so broken.  And I felt like if I stuck around, you would have felt like it was your responsibility to fix me.”

Sam took his hand.  “It hurt.  When I woke up and you were gone.  You could have at least left a note.”

“I’m sorry.” Bucky sighed. “I hated myself so much I couldn’t see that I wasn’t the only one that was hurting that night.  I wasn’t the only one that needed someone.  I should have been there for you.  When you needed me.  I just thought I had nothing to offer.” 

“You’re talking in the past tense at least,” Sam said.  “And now?”

“Now I know you’re hopeless without me,” Bucky teased.  He began counting on his fingers as he said, “I mean, you would have no shield, no suit, no red wing, no boat…” 

Sam laughed and shoved him a little.  “Seriously Bucky, you’re right.  And you’ve had my back these past few months.  But the shield, the suit, all of it.  It’s great.  Really.  But having you is enough.  When you helped me with the boat…that meant a lot.” Bucky rested his head on Sam’s shoulder. “And I’m proud of you.  I’m proud that you’re doing the work.  And I’m happy you’re starting to see yourself the way I see you.”

“Someone thanked me,” Bucky said.  “Last night.  Someone thanked me for saving them.  They looked at me with relief when they saw me, not fear.”

“Wait…so I’ve been telling you you’re a good man this whole time and a stranger says ‘thanks’ and now you see it?”

“I guess I was afraid you were just…being you.  I mean.  You see the best in everyone.  You saw the best in Karli.”

“Fair enough,” Sam said.  The sound of his stomach rumbling made them both laugh. 

“As much as I would love to impress you and make you breakfast,” Bucky said, “All I have in my fridge is a six pack and some plums.”

“Got anything that isn’t black or leather I could wear so we can go grab something?” Sam asked. 

Bucky laughed, reaching over to his night stand to grab his phone.  “Have you not heard of Uber Eats?” he asked Sam.

“I’d be impressed with your knowledge of technology,” Sam said, “but I know you are very adept at learning how to avoid people at all costs.” 

They ordered breakfast, eating it on the couch because Bucky only had one chair in his kitchen.  Luckily, there were plastic utensils in the bag since Bucky also hardly had any silverware.  Sam would have made fun of it, but he knew it was because Bucky just never really got settled.  And he wasn’t one to judge.  He’s been living in his old childhood bedroom instead of moving on with his life. 

Sam’s phone seemed to ring every 20 minutes with a reporter or government official wanting to talk to him.  He put it on silent.  Bucky told him he didn’t have to but he insisted he was taking the morning off.  He made a comment about being able to ignore his messages for a few hours.  This just prompted Bucky to apologize again for being a jerk and ignoring all of his messages.  And Sam explained that he was upset because he thought he’d done something wrong that night—that he should have just been there for Bucky as a friend.  Bucky assured him that it was just his own self-loathing that drove him away. 

They both agreed Steve was kind of a jerk for just assuming Sam would take care of Bucky.  But Steve was naïve and saw so much of himself in Sam that he probably didn’t even think he was asking a lot.  He probably…no he definitely did not think that Sam and Bucky would have ended up tangled in the sheets when he decided to go back to the 40’s.  They doubled over laughing imagining what Steve’s reaction would be.  Both of them saying Language! in unison after Sam joked that he would tell him about the comment about being fucked by Captain America. 

“We can always go up to the moon and tell him,” Bucky deadpanned.

Sam shook his head.  “Did you hear that guy?  The first time I ever say ‘I’m Captain America’ and he has the audacity to say ‘I thought he was on the moon.’”

“I kinda like it,” Bucky said, “Imagining he’s up there.  Looking down.  Shaking his head in disappointment at all the stupid shit we do.” 

“Yeah – you think he was watching when you jumped out of the plane and crashed through all those trees?”  Sam started cracking up remembering the moment. 

“Hey!  I jumped out of that plane to come cover your ass!”

“All you did was get my ass beat – I was planning on hanging back and getting intel before you ran in half cocked and got whooped on…and then I had to save your ass from under that truck.”

“Please, I was fine,” Bucky said, “you just wanted to roll around in the flowers with me.”

Sam laughed.  “I’m not gonna lie – I was a little turned on when you were lying on top of me.  You ruined it with the shield comment.”

“Well I was right wasn’t I?”  Bucky said motioning toward the shield that was sitting against the counter.  “Looks good on you.”

“Everything looks good on me,” Sam joked.

Bucky agreed with that statement, but told Sam he was impressed with how he used the shield.  And how it was different, how he made it his own.  Sam told him he wanted to set up a new training facility.  Something like they had with the Avengers.  Something bigger than Sarah’s backyard.  And Bucky agreed to help him make it happen. 

Before they realized it, it was late afternoon.  Sam made Bucky promise that he’d stay in touch and that he would come down to New Orleans for the Fourth of July cookout Sarah was planning.  By then, Bucky explained, he would be done with his court-ordered therapy and with making amends.  After some very convincing pouting on Bucky’s part, Sam agreed he could stay another hour, and Bucky took his hand and led him back into the bedroom.

When it was time to go, Sam kissed him goodbye and got back into his suit.  As he stepped out on the fire escape, his phone vibrated in his pocket.  He pulled it out and there was a text from Bucky.  See you soon, Cap.  Have a safe flight. 

Chapter Text

The next few months were a whirlwind for them both.  Sam had been travelling throughout the country, talking to other Avengers, working on Sharon’s pardon, and meeting with S.W.O.R.D. and other government agencies.  Bucky had been travelling around to the families of the Winter Soldier’s victims.  They seemed to always be in different time zones.  Still, they texted nearly every day.  Sam even taught him how to FaceTime because apparently Sam just “had to see” what Bucky looked like after he had a knife thrown at his face by an 80 year old woman whose sister he killed.  He could’ve dodged the knife, but he figured letting it hit him might be cathartic for the woman.  Besides, it healed quickly.  But that night, Sam wanted to see it and he even made Bucky say “say hello to my little friend.”  Sam shared it with this stupid “Super Friends” group text message chat he started – which Bucky reluctantly agreed not to block.  Scott Lang now calls him Montana.  It’s weird.

While he would never admit it, the worst part about the group message was that it meant that sometimes Bucky’s phone would buzz and he would get excited that it was Sam texting him, but it was just one of the “Super Friends” sending something called a meme.  And in those moments before he checked, Bucky’s heartrate would speed up just a little, only for him to be disappointed.  Not that Sam’s messages were ever all that exciting.  They were never completely convinced the phone line was secure – I mean, it is very likely the government was still keeping tabs on the former assassin.  So they kept their messages and conversation p.g.  The last thing Sam needed was a headline of Captain America and the Winter Soldier’s steamy sexts.  Sometimes, Sam would send pictures of himself in front of landmarks he visited, or pictures of himself and celebrities that Bucky didn’t recognize.  He really missed that stupid smile. 

After Bucky attempted to send Sam a similar picture, he was mocked.  Apparently he was giving a murder glare.  That just led to Bucky making an even meaner face in every picture he sent.  Apparently the one in front of Niagra falls was Sam’s favorite. 

When Bucky crossed all of the names off his list he took a picture and sent it to Sam.  Sam called him and said he was proud of him.  Bucky cried and finally told him about all of it.  About how everyone was painful, but it was hardest with Yori, who had once looked at him as a friend.  The others were strangers, which made it easier.  The knife lady was the only one that got violent.  Some screamed at him to get out.  A few of them thanked him – one was actually a former P.O.W. and asked Bucky to stay for dinner.  He said that he had read about the Winter Soldier, there where whispers he was responsible for killing Bucky killed his brother.  When he learned about Bucky and what happened to him, he had already forgiven him.  Bucky said he didn’t know why the Winter Soldier was ordered to kill.  He was only told where and when.  Over dinner, Dave explained that his brother also served in the army.  He was a Lieutenant in the 80s and was sent to Central America by the Reagan Administration to work with the contras combat communist uprisings.  The Winter Soldier murdered him (and four other people) in Honduras in 1988.  Dave talked about his own experiences as a P.O.W.  He still has nightmares, but not as often.

Bucky attributed missing Sam to the fact that he was simply lonely.  Their two sexual encounters were the only intimacy he’d experienced in over eighty years.  And Sam was his only friend.  Even when he got back home to Brooklyn, he felt lost.  Without his regular lunches with Yori and now that he was no longer required to go to therapy, he didn’t exactly have a “social life.”  So that’s it…he just wanted some companionship.  Right?  No, Bucky Barnes was madly in love with Sam Wilson who the hell was he kidding?

And now, months later, and completely aware of just how head over heels he was for Sam Wilson, Bucky was back in Delacroix. 

“Act cool, you got this, it’s just Sam,” he said as he got off of his motorcycle.  He took a few deep breaths, grabbed the cake he brought from his favorite bakery in New York and headed to the party.  He did his best to act relaxed as he strolled in, still wearing his jacket and gloves.  A.J. and Cass ran to greet him, calling him ‘Uncle Bucky’ and he fake fought with them over the cake.  Kudos to those boys, he couldn’t have planned a better entrance if he tried.  When Sam spotted him, he was pretending to spar with the two children.  He could feel Sam staring at him with that beaming smile.  He continued with the boys for a moment, before he acknowledged Sam and went up to meet him. 

He quickly shed the jacket and gloves, the worry of being recognized as the former Winter Soldier didn’t exist when he was on these docks.  A.J. and Cass were practically glued to him and begged him to come sit with them, Sam, and Sarah after he had gotten a plate of food. 

“No Torres or Sharon?” he asked Sam as he dug in.

“Nah – this is just a family thing,” Sam responded, face full of food.  Bucky’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest. 

Sarah slapped his arm, “Seriously?  I’m trying to teach these two how to act like gentlemen.  Set an example and don’t talk with your mouthful.”

“Yeah Samuel,” Bucky mocked.  He looked at Sarah and shook his head, “Back in my day…men had much better manners.”

Sam held his hand to his chest, “and here I thought you had my back?”

“When we’re fighting aliens and super soldiers, yes,” Bucky said, putting his hand on his shoulder, “But your sister is a whole lot scarier so I’m gonna have to take her side here.”

The boys giggled and Sarah said, “beauty and brains, how exactly are you still single?”  Bucky coughed a little on his food and he and Sam exchanged an awkward glance.  So that answered one question.  Sam did not tell Sarah about them.  Although, there really wasn’t much to tell.  It was Bucky who but an end to any serious discussions until after he was done making amends.  Still, he couldn’t help himself from being a little upset.  Which is maybe where the next comment came from.

“One could ask you the same Sarah,” he said with a smile and a wink.  This elicited a punch from Sam.  The only problem was, Bucky was sitting to his left.  Sam yelped in pain when his knuckles contacted the metal. 

Bucky tripped over a chair running to get ice.  He ran back to Sam and grabbed his hand.  While he held the hand still with his flesh hand, he placed the ice over the knuckles with the other.  He was kneeling next to the chair holding it like that.  “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, staring at the hand. 

“Man, I’m the idiot that punched vibranium.”  Sam was laughing, but when he saw Bucky still staring at his hand he got quiet.  His voice went from bubbly to soothing.  “Hey, look at me,” he whispered.  Bucky’s blue eyes slowly lifted up to meet his brown eyes.  “There you are.”  Sam smiled as his non-injured hand rested on Bucky’s shoulder, rubbing soothing circles on it.  “I’m fine okay?  This wasn’t your fault.  And I’m fine.” 

Bucky swallowed.  He could feel tears welling up a little in his eyes.  “Don’t do that again,” he said sternly.

“Not planning on it.” Sam smiled. 

Bucky smiled back at him, continuing to hold the ice in place.  Eventually, it started melting, and Sam picked it up and dumped the ice in his now empty cup.  That is when they realized Sarah had left the table at some point.  How long had Bucky been on his knees holding Sam’s hand and staring at him?  He suddenly became very aware of the fact that they were still holding hands and released him, clearing his throat.  Before either could say anything, A.J. was tugging at him to come show his friend that he could hold both of them with his arm at the same time.  Sarah and another woman were sitting at the table and he joked with them while he easily held the two children up.  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sam, in conversation with another group, glancing up and smiling every once and awhile. 

Eventually, Bucky got out of jungle-gym duty and found himself alone, staring at the water.  Sam came up and put his hand on his shoulder, and motioned silently for him to follow.  He led Bucky down to the boat, steadying him as he stepped onto it.  “I wanted to show you something,” Sam said smiling.  He walked over and put his hands on the helm, pointing to the console.  Next to a faded picture of Sam and Sarah with their parents on the boat was a picture Sarah had taken of Bucky with the two boys on his shoulders on the last visit. 

Bucky traced the picture with his fingers then looked at Sam confused.  “This boat,” Sam said looking around, “it’s the story of this family’s history.  It only seemed right to make sure the entire family was pictured.”

“Sam,” Bucky whispered.

“Seriously man,” Sam said, “I know we joke and shit but I mean it…you’re a Wilson now.  Accept it.” 

“That’s…” Bucky tilted his head looking at the picture…”a little incestuous…but also incredibly sweet.”  Bucky continued to stare at the picture, his features fixed.  Then he began to exit the cabin.  He was stopped by Sam’s hand around his wrist.

“You,” Sam said, gripping tighter, “god you are so frustrating.”

“What?”

“You are the most stubborn, hard to read person on the planet, do you know that?”  Sam sighed.  “Scratch that…because we know people from other planets…hell we met a guy that was literally MADE OF ROCKS and he was better at expressing emotions than you.”

“Okay…now I’m just getting yelled at so…” Bucky tried to back away but Sam grabbed the vibranium hand with his other wrist.

“I’m not yelling at you…I’m just…I thought this…was going somewhere.  Then you just show up here all sexy sunglasses and swagger and ‘look at me I’m so strong I can lift all the kids…and you FLIRT WITH MY SISTER??” 

Bucky sighed.  “Ok.  I’ll admit that was wrong, but she made a comment that I was single and…”

“Oh.” Sam said.  “So you were upset I didn’t tell Sarah about us?”  Bucky nodded.  “I wanted to wait until I knew what to tell her.  I mean, we didn’t exactly define this.”

“That’s fair,” Bucky said, “I’m sorry.  And I’m sorry you think I’m made of stone.  Honestly I was just trying to act all stoic because it is seriously embarrassing how much I missed you.”

A wide grin spread across Sam’s face and he let go of Bucky’s wrists to poke him in the ribs.  “You missed me?  Aw you may be stone on the outside but inside you’re just a big softie.”

“I take it back.”

“No take back’s” Sam said, mock insulted.  “I missed you too.”  The smiled awkwardly at one another in silence.  “So…you finished all those amends?”

Bucky nodded, taking a step closer.  “Actually, there is one left…but I didn’t put it in the book.”

Sam looked at him confused as he continued, “I mean, I don’t even know where I’d begin…there’s this guy…and I mean the very first time we met, I ripped the steering wheel right out of the car he was driving.  Then, the next time we met, threw him straight across the room…by his face.”  Sam smiled and brought his hand up to rest on Bucky’s shoulder.  “And then he became a fugitive for me and I was still a total dick to him.  And despite that, he was never anything but kind to me.”

“Wow, sounds like he’s a pretty awesome dude to put up with all that,” Sam said smiling.

“Yeah,” Bucky said softly, “I guess that’s why I fell in love with him.”  Sam’s eyes widened and he brought both hands up to cup Bucky’s face, pushing their foreheads together.  “So there’s not much I can say to make amends for the past.  But there is one thing I can say.  I love you Sam Wilson.”

“I love you James Buchanan Barnes,” Sam whispered before kissing him. 

Sam used his hands to tilt Bucky’s head, allowing his tongue to enter Bucky parted his lips.  Soon, Bucky was kissing him back with equal force, like they were trying to taste every inch of one another.  What started slow and sweet quickly built to rough and desperate.  One of Sam’s hands was gliding under his shirt, meeting the skin on his lower back and pulling him even closer.  His other was gripping and tugging at Bucky’s hair.

He would have been embarrassed by his arousal if he hadn’t felt that Sam was in the same state.  Sam wedged his knee between Bucky’s leg and Bucky moaned into his mouth.  Sam finally pulled away to catch his breath, but Bucky’s mouth was immediately on his neck and he was tilting his head to give him better access.  

Bucky’s hands traveled to Sam’s belt and as he was trying to work it open, the sound of laughter and screaming grew louder and they jumped apart. 

“Uncle Sam!  Uncle Bucky!”

Bucky stuck half his body out of the cabin, trying to mask his panting. 

A.J. and Cass were running closer.  “Uncle Bucky!” Cass yelled, “Vanessa doesn’t believe that you can pick up the truck!  You hafta come show her!  Puhleassseeee!”

“Yeah…umm…give me a minute,” Bucky answered. 

“Uh no,” Sam said quietly before he stuck his head out behind Bucky’s shoulder and yelled, “Bucky is here as our guest…not as our show pony.  Stop using him to show off to your friends and go play.”

“Look at you, defending my honor,” Bucky said in a mocking dramatic tone as he grasped his chest. 

Sam pulled him back into the cabin.  “Maybe I just wanted you all to myself,” he said, kissing Bucky again.  “But really, you can say no to them every once and awhile.”

“But it’s so hard when they give you that face,” Bucky said pouting.

“You are one to talk,” Sam laughed.  “But seriously, it’s good for them to learn boundaries.  Besides…I heard them whispering about wanting you to teach them knife tricks and you are definitely not doing that.”  Bucky looked at him all guilty.  “You already agreed didn’t you?”

Sam laughed.  “I know.  Believe me, I know.  But it’s good for them to learn boundaries.  Besides…I heard them whispering about wanting you to teach them knife tricks and you are definitely not doing that.”  Bucky looked at him all guilty.  “You already agreed didn’t you?”

“I wasn’t going to use real knives!”

Sam shook his head.  “Fine…but don’t look at me when Sarah kicks you out on your ass and ships you back to Brooklyn.”

“About that…” Bucky said.  “My lease is expiring next week and I don’t exactly have a place to live.”

Sam laughed.  “That certain we’d let you crash on the couch again?”

Bucky looked at his feet, then back up at Sam with big puppy dog eyes.  “Kinda hoping for different accommodations this time.”

“Oh so it’s like that?” Sam said, “using me for a warm bed and a roof over your head?’

“I plan on using you for a lot more than that,” Bucky whispered in his ear.  Sam shivered at the feeling of Bucky’s warm breath. 

“In that case…” Sam said, placing kisses on Bucky’s jaw.  “I suppose you can stay in my room here for a few days.”

“A few days?” Bucky asked pulling back.

Sam backed up a little, leaning on the other wall.  “Now that I’m Captain America, it appears that I have to be in D.C., a lot.  And I’ve been traveling back and forth and it’s been fine – I mean, I do have this pretty awesome suit that lets me fly there pretty fast, but it’s kind of exhausting.”

“You’re moving to D.C.?” Bucky asked.

“Virginia, actually.  Wanted to be away from the city.  The house is a fixer upper but it’s got a nice little yard and a garage where I can work on the suit if I need to.”

“Fixer upper, hm?” Bucky asked, nudging one of Sam’s foot with his.  “If you’ll recall, I am pretty handy.”

Sam smiled.  “You offering to help?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said nodding.  “You know…in exchange for a warm bed, roof over my head…”

“Bucky Barnes, are you inviting yourself to move in with me?”

“Is that too fast?” Bucky asked, before answering himself.  “That’s too fast.  I should find my own place.”

“No!” Sam said, “I mean…if you want to…I want you to.”

Bucky smiled, and pulled him back for another kiss.  The kiss deepened, with both men softly moaning and grasping at one another.  As Sam grabbed Bucky’s shirt and had it half way over his torso, they were interrupted again by Sarah who was yelling for Sam.  Sam sighed. “This is why I’m moving…” he said quietly.  Sarah kept walking toward the docks and yelling for Sam.  Bucky smiled and gave him a little nudge to walk out first.

“Hey Sarah,” he said smiling, “I was just uh, showing Bucky something on the boat.”

She looked up at them.  Sam’s belt was partially unbuckled, both of their shirts were wrinkled, and Bucky’s hair was a mess.  She gave them a knowing smile.  “Must have been something pretty good…” she said raising her eyebrows.  “People are starting to head out.  Have some manners and come say goodbye.”  As she walked away she turned back.  “But first, fix your damn selves up.”

They looked at each other and smiled.  After straightening out their clothes and hair to look somewhat presentable, they started back toward the party.  Half way there, Bucky bumped into Sam’s shoulder and Sam playfully shoved him in response.