Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Is he always this quiet?" Bucky hears Joaquin ask.

Joaquin's next to Sam, eyeing Bucky who's sitting by himself on the other end of the room. 

"Yeah," Sam confirms easily.

Bucky sneaks a glance over and catches Joaquin's brows furrow.

"But he's harmless," Sam adds and Bucky's heart feel a little warm at Sam's assurance of him. 

Joaquin gives Sam an incredulous look at that. Sam chuckles lightly.

"Former assassin, remember?" Sam quips.

"Are we sure?" Joaquin questions.

"You know he can probably hear us, right?" Sam brings up.

Bucky turns his head in that moment to stare daggers into Joaquin with piercing eyes. Joaquin tenses up when he meets Bucky's intense gaze and swiftly turns away.

Bucky doesn't mean to scare the kid, he was hoping for a humorous reaction. He guesses it's a risk since Joaquin has been on edge around him ever since they started working together a week ago. Bucky understands, he expects everyone to be wary of him. It would be dumb to trust a guy like him, with his history.

When Bucky finds the outline of a small smile on Sam's face, he senses his actions are okay. It's okay to taunt the kid a bit. Bucky's glad he didn't make a mistake. 

Bucky has been purposely trying to make an effort to be more human if that's the word. Maybe the word is normal. Whatever it is, it hasn't been easy. The toughest part has been letting his guard down. Bucky's aware he always has a guard up, it's an old habit. He keeps to himself and often displays a rigid, frowning look of displeasure without even realizing his face is doing that. He's trying to lighten up, appear friendly, but it's tiring to keep up.

Well, except with Sam. With Sam, Bucky relaxes easily because everything is easier with Sam. Sam never seems to judge him. Even though Bucky tried to assassinate the guy, threw him off a building, ripped his wing off... Sam seems to have gotten over these past incidents from Bucky's mind-controlled days and accepts Bucky.

Sam offered Bucky this job training Joaquin and helping prepare for Sam's missions. Bucky didn't want to fight and Sam respected that decision right away because everything with Sam is easy. So, Bucky doesn't even feel guilty that he's not in the field with Sam, instead he feels at peace.

Eventually, Joaquin starts to get more comfortable around Bucky. Joaquin smiles a lot more around him, fumbles over his words less, runs away way less. When Bucky notices the change, he wonders if it was the harmless, deadpan staring or maybe it was the attempt to make small talk in between training. Bucky once asked about the weather and Joaquin answered him so that went well. Bucky's not sure what he did to change the kid's attitude around him, maybe it's simply the fact that Bucky hasn't actually harmed him and so Joaquin's fearing him less as time passes. 

Regardless, Bucky's happy with this little progress. He wants to get along with Joaquin for Sam's sake. Sam clearly cares for the kid and he gave Bucky this job working with him. He has to get along with Joaquin to show his gratitude to Sam.

Bucky has a lot to be thankful to Sam for. Sam even helped find Bucky an apartment in D.C. and it's only fifteen minutes from Sam's place. Sometimes, Sam comes over with a bag of groceries to check up on him. Bucky thinks it's silly and usually has his fridge fully stocked, but Sam merely says he knows he'll eat the extra food and he's right, Bucky always does.

Bucky appreciates everything Sam does, sometimes so much it overwhelms him, but he's never sure how to thank him. Except to do his job, be nice to Joaquin and occasionally try to slip Sam some money for the groceries, but Sam doesn't like when Bucky does that.

Bucky and Joaquin finish up their training one afternoon.

Bucky has been working on lending Joaquin small compliments. Sam once mentioned that a little encouragement goes a long way. So, if Sam wants something, then Bucky has to try. Bucky isn't great with compliments, no more than he is with small talk or thank you's. So, they usually come out quiet and awkward, but somehow Joaquin manages to light up every time Bucky commends him.

"Nice job today," Bucky speaks low, but Joaquin hears and smiles ear to ear.

"Thanks! Yeah, I um... I thought the knife practice went well," Joaquin beams.

"It did," Bucky nods.

"Right, yeah - I mean, thanks, heh okay - uh, I gotta go," Joaquin fumbles out as Sam approaches the duo.

Joaquin hurries off and Bucky watches him with a face of confusion. The kid is running away again. Bucky feels a pang of guilt, he must have done something wrong.

Bucky sees Sam smirking widely, making him believe he definitely missed something.

"What did I say?" Bucky asks regretfully.

Sam shakes his head, smiling. Bucky knows he's missing the joke.

"He likes you!" Sam exclaims.

Bucky presses him mouth together in puzzlement.

"Well, I'm trying to be nice to him," Bucky reasons.

"No Buck, he likes you. He has a crush on you," Sam snickers, patting a hand on Bucky's shoulder.

"Oh... really?" Bucky questions, his eyebrows furrowing in disbelief.

Bucky hasn't considered anyone being romantically interested in him in a long time, it feels foreign. 

Sam shakes his head again, seeming to enjoy divulging this information. Bucky's not sure how he's managing to make Sam smile so much or how he's accomplished any of this really.

"How did I do that?" Bucky questions.

Sam grins.

"You're just being yourself," Sam explains.

Bucky sits pondering this for a moment. He guesses it's a moment too long when Sam breaks the silence.

"What's going on up there?" Sam inquires, pointing to his head.

"I thought he was scared of me," Bucky admits.

"Nope, just has a crush on you," Sam chuckles.

Bucky's stomach turns uneasily and it shows on his face. Sam's smile drops when he catches the other man's sour expression. Bucky decides to explain himself before Sam can ask because Sam always asks. He's always encouraging Bucky to open up more and express his feelings. Usually that was be an awful, unsettling task, but Sam makes it feel easier.

"He shouldn't like me," Bucky shares.

"Why not?"

"It's not good, I... did so many horrible things, no one should like that," Bucky cringes.

Sam blinks at Bucky with a look difficult to decipher.

"You had no control over what was done to you or the things you did," Sam reminds.

"Doesn't mean I didn't do them," Bucky refutes quietly.

"Who cares, what matters is what you do now. Don't say shit like that, you're choosing to be a good person. That's what matters. Joaquin and I wouldn't work with you if we didn't think so," Sam counters.

Bucky's eyes dart down. He doesn't like complimenting people, but it's even worse when someone compliments him. He has no idea how to respond or how to believe them. 

"Hey, you know I'm being serious right?" Sam pushes like he always does.

"Thanks," Bucky forces out assuming that's what Sam wants to hear.

"You don't have to thank me," Sam argues.

That throws Bucky. He stands awkwardly, mind reeling at where he could have went wrong with that response.

Sam picks up on his inner turmoil.

"You're welcome buddy," Sam lends with a pat on his shoulder.

Bucky breathes a sigh of relief. Sam always lets him off the hook, another thing he's grateful for.

Today, Bucky is running late for work. He's never late, never. He doesn't want to let Sam down, the pit in his stomach is making him nauseous just thinking about it. The thing is, he found a cat. This precious little, white kitten hanging outside in the alley behind his apartment and he couldn't leave her there. So, he brought the feline inside before running to the pet store to get supplies. He still had plenty of time at that point because he's not only never late, he's always early. But then he left forgetting the rope he was supposed to bring to show Joaquin how to tie proper knots in their training session today. So, when Bucky had to turn back to get the ropes, he was officially running fifteen minutes late.

Bucky arrives the fifteen minutes late and rushes inside to find Sam and Joaquin going over paperwork at the table.

"Sorry, I'm late - I got tied up," Bucky apologizes immediately, taking the ropes off his shoulder and setting them down.

Joaquin stares open mouth at the ropes and then back up at Bucky. Bucky spots a pink tint flushing the kid's face, but he's not sure why. Bucky wonders if something about ropes is embarrassing.

"H-how did that happen? Can't you break out of anything?" Joaquin stammers out.

Bucky's brows crinkle inward.

"No, I... meant I got distracted and I had to run back to get these. I was gonna teach you to tie knots," Bucky explains hesitantly.

"Oh, right... duh, I was kidding!" Joaquin bursts out a loud laugh.

Bucky is startled by the sheer volume and flashes a quizzical glance at Sam.

Sam is grinning wildly which only confuses Bucky more.

"Remember that thing we talked about yesterday?" Sam helps when Bucky won't stop questioning him with his eyes.

Bucky racks his brain... the crush. How could this be related to the crush Joaquin has on him? He shakes his head to tell Sam he's lost.

"I'll explain it later," Sam waves a hand at him, still grinning way too much. 

Joaquin stares at Sam with his mouth agape, growing redder by the minute.

"Well, let's get to that knot tying!" Joaquin jolts up from his seat.

Bucky collects the ropes and follows Joaquin to start the lesson.

Bucky finds Sam after the training and nervously recounts the reason he was late. He describes his new pet in detail and apologizes way too much.

"Bucky, it's fine. You were fifteen minutes late. It's not a big deal," Sam assures him.

"It won't happen again," Bucky determines.

"What if the cat gets sick?" Sam challenges.

Bucky's eyes widen with fear at the thought.

"Oh, well then I would need to get her to the vet, but I would call," Bucky frets.

"I'm kidding! Of course, it would be fine. Chill out, man," Sam snickers.

Bucky lets out a sigh of relief.

"You're still not good with sarcasm, are you?" Sam remarks.

"I'm getting better," Bucky claims.

Sam gives him the biggest look of disbelief and Bucky's shoulders collapse forward.

"Okay, not really," Bucky folds.

Sam chuckles lightly before taking a breath in.

"Anyway, I said I would explain what happened earlier..." Sam begins, appearing suddenly unsettled.

Bucky feels a pain in his chest from the sight of Sam being uneasy.

"Yeah... if you want to," Bucky speaks hesitantly.

"Yeah, I mean the kid just got flustered cause he was imagining you tied up... like literally," Sam imparts, his cheeks turning a rosy pink matching Joaquin's from earlier.

"And that's... embarrassing?" Bucky shakes his head, not understanding.

"No, more like hot I guess," Sam's face flinches when he says it and he looks away.

Bucky doesn't want to keep this conversation going if Sam's uncomfortable. He decides he'll pretend to get it.

"Right," Bucky comments nodding.

Sam gives him a look.

"You agree it's hot?" Sam dares, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Bucky feels his heart start to race, he hates lying to Sam. He has no idea why him being tied up would be a turn on. Bucky swallows a lump in his throat.

"Uh, I guess," Bucky shrugs awkwardly.

Sam smiles openly now.

"You don't get it, do you?"

Bucky bites his lip back, mad at himself.

"No."

"People do a lot of weird shit these days. It's a sexual thing, some people like it," Sam expands.

"Joaquin likes to tie people up?" 

Sam looks vastly disturbed with that idea and Bucky regrets saying it.

"Well, I don't know. It could just be the thought is hot even if he's not into it. It's the whole restricting your movement and then, you know... doing stuff to you while you're tied up," Sam continues, his face flushing more and more as he speaks.

Bucky stares, processing.

"But I could break any rope," Bucky counters.

Sam smirks again, rolling his eyes on purpose.

"Yeah, I know," Sam comments simply.

Bucky nods slowly. He should let this conversation die so Sam can relax even if he's still not fully comprehending this whole thing. He chooses it's best to change the topic for Sam's sake.

"Wanna grab lunch?" Bucky offers.

"I can't, my sister and nephews are visiting. Hey, why don't you join us?" Sam invites. 

"I don't want to make it weird for your family," Bucky opposes instantly.

"Why would it be weird? They've been wanting to meet you anyway," Sam battles.

"Why?" Bucky answers instinctually. 

"Cause I work with you, they're heard about you - why not?" Sam fights.

"Okay," Bucky quickly accepts to avoid upsetting Sam anymore. Even though he can't imagine why anyone would want to introduce their family to a former mass murderer.

"Great," Sam smiles genuinely.

Bucky feels a familiar warmth flutter inside him. 

Chapter Text

Bucky meets Sam's family. His sister Sarah and her two sons AJ and Cass. Bucky loves them already. Sarah is just like Sam, hard-headed and kind. The kids are adorable and sweet. They're even floored by Bucky's vibranium arm even though he has a jacket and gloves covering it currently. They must know about it from Sam. They start going on about how cool they think it is, which is a first for Bucky. 

"Can we see it please?" AJ pleads.

Bucky shoots a look at Sam. He's nervous with this request, they're at a public restaurant and he normally would never show his arm in an attempt to blend in and not scare people. Sam must sense his discomfort because he jumps in.

"Maybe later boys, we're eating," Sam disputes.

Bucky catches Sarah's eyes next and quickly worries he might have upset her by not complying to her son's request. Instead, she smiles softly just like Sam does and Bucky knows it's okay. He continues eating.

At the end of the lunch, Sam suggests they take a family photo and asks the waiter to take it.

"I can take it, Sam," Bucky offers as he watches Sam hand the waiter his phone.

"Then you couldn't be in it," Sam refutes as he crouches down behind his nephews.

"Why would you want me in it?" Bucky utters.

Everyone looks at Bucky as the waiter stands waiting with the phone.

"For the memory, get over here," Sam answers.

"Can he take his jacket off for the picture?" Cass jumps in.

"No," Sam refuses and then waves Bucky over again, his seat is too far away currently to be in the frame.

Bucky still hesitates, feeling wrong about intruding on this moment.

"Please, we want you in it," Sarah makes her own plea to Bucky.

Bucky already feels the strange sensation he won't be able say no to Sarah even when he just met her today.

He swiftly gets up from his chair and settles next to Sam, behind the kids. Bucky inches his mouth upward in a tight smile, hoping it looks normal enough.

"Okay, everyone ready? On three!" the waiter calls.

The waiter begins counting down and Bucky can't help the surge of joy that rushes through his body. If he lets himself, he could almost imagine that he's part of this family and the thought alone feels overwhelming. He blinks after the man takes the photo. He tries to calm himself, he doesn't belong here with them. He's not part of their family, he reminds himself. He can't let himself get carried away with such fantasies.

Sam has a key to Bucky's apartment. Bucky gave it to him so Sam would never be waiting outside with groceries. Bucky assumes he won't see Sam this week since Sarah and the kids are staying in town for a couple more days. 

It's getting late in the evening and Bucky is thinking of heading to bed. By bed, he means leaving the TV on and trying to get some sleep on the floor, which will most likely not happen for very long. Bucky turns on the TV and turns up the volume. He drops the remote before heading to look for Alpine. Alpine is what he decided to name the cat he rescued. 

Bucky finds Alpine in his bedroom. Alpine took a liking to the large bed Bucky never uses, so it's really her room now.

Bucky lounges on the bed petting a stretched out, fluffy Alpine while admiring her. He's already grown so attached to the small cat, he wonders if it's a bad thing. Sometimes, he spends hours just petting and playing with her. He also talks to her all the time. He tells Alpine about his day and never fails to remind her how wonderful she is. He says goodnight to her every evening which is exactly what Bucky does in this moment as he begins scratching behind her ear and the feline stretches up to get even closer.

"I'm going to sleep... goodnight, Alpine. You're the best girl, Alpine... you are, so beautiful... love you," he mumbles affectionately to the feline.

"Oh my god, baby talk Buck?" he hears Sam's voice ring behind him and he's shoots off the bed, face bright red.

How did he not hear Sam come in? Maybe the TV blocked out the sound of the front door and Sam's footsteps? Regardless, he's been caught and feels humiliated at how sappy he definitely sounded.

"I was..." Bucky begins.

"I know what you were doing. You don't like to smile, but you'll give a cat all the affection and love you's in the world huh?" Sam teases unapologetically.

Bucky looks away, embarrassed. 

"I should tell Joaquin about this" Sam threatens playfully.

"Don't tell him," Bucky fights weakly.

"You know he'd only be jealous, right?" Sam sneers.

"Sam, don't tell anyone - I know you're making fun of me," Bucky pleads.

"I'm not, I think it's sweet," Sam corrects casually.

Bucky blinks surprised.

"Really?"

"I really do, cause I love you and you're so beautiful," Sam mocks, speaking in a baby talk voice.

"Sam!"

"I'm joking! I was talking to Alpine anyway," Sam snickers.

"You were looking at me," Bucky counters confused.

Sam rolls his eyes.

"Well, my love is meant for Alpine," Sam refutes.

"She's mine," Bucky argues defensively, getting genuinely heated at the thought.

"Bucky, I'm joking! Relax man, I'm not gonna steal your cat," Sam shakes his head before turning back to head to the kitchen. Bucky follows him out.

"I don't talk to her like that all the time," Bucky lies hoping to save a some dignity.

"Sure," Sam replies way too amused as he rounds the kitchen island. There's a bag of groceries on the counter that sam clearly dropped off before catching him sweet talking his cat.

Bucky sighs defeated.

"At least, don't tell your nephews."

"My nephews?" Sam looks stunned.

"Yeah, they somehow think I'm cool," Bucky answers shyly.

"You care what my nephews think?" Sam stutters astounded and Bucky isn't sure why this is such a big deal. If anything, Bucky was sure it was even more lame that he cared what a couple of kids thought of him.

"Well, no one's ever gotten excited about my arm before," Bucky reasons.

Sam reins in his shocked expression and smiles contently.

"Okay, I won't tell them," he concurs.

Sam begins putting away the groceries he brought over. Bucky walks over to help. Bucky wants to thank Sam for the groceries, like always, but it feels too difficult. The words are stuck in his throat. He knows Sam will dismiss his thank you anyhow, so he stays quiet.

"I can send you that photo we took at the restaurant, with Sarah and the boys, if you want it?" Sam offers.

"Yeah," Bucky agrees plainly, trying to downplay how much he would like that photo.

Later, Sam leaves and Bucky gets a text from him. It's the photo. Bucky stares at the image fondly, a smile stretching across his entire face. A small meow echoes and Bucky looks up to see Alpine watching him.

"Don't give me that look," Bucky coos as he settles onto the floor into his spot.

He lets the feline jump on his lap and pets her as he stares at the photo for a long while.

So, apparently, Joaquin gets even more comfortable around Bucky. Enough that he starts flirting. Well, Bucky only figures this out after Sam blatantly points it out to him.

It happens on the jet. Bucky will on occasion accompany them on the jet to help make sure missions run smoothly. This is Bucky's least favorite part of his new job because he feels an indisputable sense of dread anytime he's this close to a fight that he's not participating in. Especially when Sam is participating and Bucky has to simply sit around while Sam flies directly into potential danger. These are the moments the guilt creeps back in, Bucky should be helping Sam... protecting Sam. It's easy to not think about it when he stays home, but when Bucky is this close to the action he goes through a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. 

In consequence, Bucky is always prepared to jump out of the jet and help Sam if anything were to ever go wrong. He doesn't tell anyone this, it's his secret plan in his head. Which means any of these times Bucky boards the jet, he sits on edge the entire time, anxiously waiting for a time he may need to intervene. So far, he never has to because Sam is a great fighter, he's smart, he knows what he doing. Bucky knows this - believes it full-heartedly, but even so, Bucky spends every second Sam is out there worrying until Sam returns safe and in one piece.

Today is no different, Sam completes the mission expertly and rejoins the pair back on the jet to head home.

This is when Bucky sits back on the cold bench and clasps his hands together, his body shivering slightly from the unforgiving surface. It's been getting colder as winter is approaching, but Bucky didn't want to switch to a heavier jacket because the leather jacket he always wears is flexible enough for him to fight, if he ever needs to. So, now in a jacket much too light and the nervous adrenaline gone since Sam returned, the cold air courses through Bucky and rattles his bones. His teeth even chatter briefly before he forces them to stop. Bucky hates being cold, hates it more than anything. He rubs his hands together before shoving them into his jacket pockets.

Joaquin takes notice and tilts his head at Bucky.

"Are you cold?" Joaquin asks and that makes Sam turn his head too.

Bucky feels his cheeks warm momentarily at the sudden attention on him.

"Yeah, but I'm always cold," Bucky replies simply.

"Doesn't the serum make your body temperature higher?" Sam debates.

"Yeah, it does. I run hot, but I usually feel cold," Bucky admits and he hopes there's no follow up question to that. If there is, then he'll have to explain that he's pretty sure it's some unfortunate side effect from all the cyro-freezing done to him over seven decades. Typically, when he references his past with Hydra it makes people upset and they give him a sorrowful, pained look of pity that Bucky hates. 

Thankfully, Sam merely nods. Bucky pushes his hand further into his frigid pockets, wishing he had more layers to put on.

Joaquin speaks up again.

"But you're hot," Joaquin points out with a sly smirk plastered on his face.

"Yeah... it's the serum," Bucky restates.

"No, um... I meant," Joaquin stammers.

"He's never gonna get it J... he's saying you're attractive," Sam intervenes, looking straight at Bucky.

Bucky's face grows hot once more.

"Oh... sorry," Bucky expresses awkwardly towards the kid, unsure what to even say.

"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said it," Joaquin frets regretfully.

"No, it's-" Bucky begins, but Sam interrupts.

"Ok we don't need an apology battle. Look Joaquin, you need practice flirting and Buck, we might have an extra jacket - you want it?" 

Bucky shakes his head.

"I'm fine," Bucky opposes.

"I don't need practice, I'm a little... rusty, is all," Joaquin abruptly argues.

Sam snaps Joaquin a look.

Bucky stays quiet, but feels himself growing colder and colder, his body shivers again. He tries to hide it, but fails. Sam shoots Bucky a look next. 

"I'm getting you another coat," Sam insists.

"You don't need to," Bucky protests, but Sam is already on his feet, searching for one. 

Sam finds an extra military jacket and hands it to Bucky.

"Really, I'm fine," Bucky refuses stubbornly not taking it.

Sam narrows his eyes and then proceeds to open the coat and slide it behind Bucky. 

Bucky leans forward to make space for the coat to fall behind his back and Sam drapes it over his shoulders. Sam runs his hands down the arms of the coat, brushing down Bucky's actual arms. Even under the multiple layers, Bucky can feel the heat radiating from Sam's palms.

"You don't always have to suffer," Sam remarks before dropping his hands away, allowing a coldness to reemerge.

Sam walks back to the bench across from him. Bucky bashfully pulls the ends of the jacket tighter around himself, the additional layer admittedly feeling nice although not as nice as the momentary heat from Sam's hands.

Bucky should say thank you, he wants to. He's sure he's being rude by not saying it, but the words are stuck in his throat again. A minute goes by and Sam's not even paying attention to him anymore, neither is Joaquin.

So, Bucky says nothing, only slips his arms into the coat and wraps it fully around himself, silently grateful for the extra warmth. 

Chapter Text

The next week at training, Joaquin enters with a suspicious look on his face. He strides right up to Bucky and reveals a wrapped box in his hands.

"Hey, I got you something," Joaquin gleams.

Bucky freezes, his body not reacting appropriately to a gift being presented to him because no one should be giving him anything. He nervously glances up at Sam who appears mildly surprised, so Bucky assumes he isn't in on this.

"What?" is all Bucky can manage.

"It's nothing big, I think you'll like it," Joaquin declares cheerfully.

"You didn't need to get me anything," Bucky opposes and still hasn't even reached for the box.

Joaquin jiggles the box forward, urging Bucky to take it, but Bucky is too busy reeling in his head to move a muscle.

Joaquin finally sets it down on the table next to them.

"Please, open it. It's a small thing, really," Joaquin insists.

Bucky's jaw tenses, he steals another glance at Sam who looks amused now. Bucky steps up to the box and begins unwrapping it. The kid even wrapped it, Bucky wonders why he would do this for him? 

With the wrapping paper removed, Bucky opens the white box by lifting the lid off to reveal a folded, gray sweater.

"A... sweater," Bucky proclaims.

Bucky's heart races a million miles a minute. No one should do something so thoughtful like this for him.

"Yeah - try it on!" Joaquin exclaims, completely oblivious to the internal turmoil in Bucky's head.

Bucky's hands tremble a bit as he unzips his leather jacket and slides it off. He reaches for the cozy material and pulls it over his head. His first thought, it's warm and comfortable... he loves it. Then the excruciating regret hits him like a brick. He wants to tear it off, he doesn't deserve this, but he can't ruin the wonderful gift Joaquin took the time to wrap and bring to him.

"Is it one of your old ones?" Bucky inquires, praying the kid didn't spend any actual money on him.

"Of course not, I got it for you. Do you like it?" Joaquin asks, smiling ear to ear.

Bucky swallows hard and avoids meeting anyone's eyes.

"Yes, it's... you shouldn't have done this. This is so nice," Bucky stammers, staring down at the fabric on his body.

"Don't worry about it, I wanted to. It looks great, I hope you can stay warm now," Joaquin chuckles.

Bucky stays dead quiet. He hears Sam's footsteps approach.

"That was really sweet of you J. Hey, could you grab those files I wanted to go over with you," Sam directs.

"Sure!" Joaquin obliges and hurries off.

Bucky refuses to look up, he takes the end of the soft fabric in his hands studying it with dread.

"Hey, you good?" Sam inquires carefully.

Bucky shakes his head no.

"What's going on? It's just a sweater, Buck," Sam speaks gently.

"It's too nice Sam, what am I supposed to do?" Bucky utters.

"Nothing," Sam supplies.

Bucky's eyes shoot up with complete disbelief.

"Nothing? The kid spent his money on me! He shouldn't be buying me gifts - and he likes me, I can't accept this," Bucky protests instantly.

"Bucky, you're allowed to get a thoughtful gift and just say thank you. You can accept it," Sam counters calmly.

That drives more guilt into Bucky because he didn't even thank Joaquin. He couldn't even thank him, his stomach turns wildly.

"No - no way Sam, I can't," Bucky rapidly shakes his head before pulling the sweater off and pushing it back into the box. 

"Bucky-" Sam begins, but Bucky can't even let him finish.

"No, you don't understand. I can't, I don't know what to do - I can't do this. He has to take it back!" Bucky stresses, his volume raising as his words come out too fast and his head is shaking frantically.

"Bucky-" Sam tries again.

"I can't take it - I won't! And you have to stop bringing me groceries - you're too nice to me!" Bucky bellows before stumbling backwards and finding a chair to fall into.

Bucky's breathing grows jagged and heavy, it's more difficult to breathe suddenly. Bucky is pretty sure he's having an anxiety attack, he inhales a huge breath making everything worse. His face must give away his panic because Sam rushes over.

"Hey, it's okay, breathe just breathe," Sam instructs, kneeling beside him and clutching his arm firmly.

Bucky shakes his head again, but he can't speak - breathing becomes even more difficult. He shuts his eyes.

He feels Sam wrap his arms around his body and squeeze him tight.

"I'm sorry - I'm sorry," Bucky quickly mutters, feeling guilty for overreacting even in the midst of his panic. He's having an episode over a damn sweater.

"It's okay. Just breathe," Sam soothes.

It takes a few moments, but then Bucky's breathing begins to return to a more steady pace. Sam's still holding him tightly which helps. No one has held Bucky in a long time, he almost forgot how wonderful it feels.  

When Bucky is finally calm, he feels ashamed. A wave of embarrassment washes over him and he wishes he didn't have to face anyone, wishes he could hide and be home right now.

Unfortunately, the serum didn't give him the power of invisibility or teleportation, so Bucky has to sit and face Sam who is delicately unlatching his arms and letting him go. Sam looks at him worriedly.

"You okay?" Sam questions.

"Yeah... I... is it okay if I go home?" Bucky asks, feeling weak for even asking.

"Of course, take all the time you need," Sam allows and stands up.

Bucky stands and grabs his jacket to head out.

"Bucky," Sam notes.

Bucky stops in his tracks and turns back.

Sam is holding the sweater in his hand.

"Just take it home, for the kid's sake," Sam pleads.

Bucky accepts it because he can't deny Sam when the man just comforted him and has done so much more for him without Bucky ever asking. Bucky hurries home and throws the sweater onto the arm chair in his living room.

He hears a small purr and gazes over to see his little, white fur-ball walking towards him.

"I had an awful day, Alpine," Bucky sighs as he lets his body drop right to the floor. Alpine scurries over and makes her way onto his lap. Bucky breathes easier with Alpine near, he buries his face in her fur wishing he never had to leave this apartment again.

Sam is the worst and by worst, Bucky means the best person alive because, of course, Sam comes over to check on Bucky later that night.

Bucky hears a knock at the door and holds his breath when he sees Sam's troubled expression through the peephole. He didn't use his key, Bucky guesses to be polite. Damn him being so considerate. He opens the door.

"Can I come in?" Sam asks, a bag of groceries in hand.

Bucky steps aside and Sam enters, placing the bag on the kitchen counter.

"You know, you're allowed to come over empty-handed," Bucky remarks bitterly and that makes Sam smile.

"Right, I'm not supposed to bring you anymore groceries... sorry," Sam states, but his tone says he isn't remorseful at all. 

Sam begins putting the food items away like always. This time, he places a small bag on the counter and Bucky studies it to discover it's a bag of cat treats for Alpine. His chest tightens again.

"Why are you doing this?" Bucky spits, the words coming out more aggressively than he intended.

Sam peers up at him, seemingly unbothered by Bucky's sharp inflection.

"Because you're my friend, I'm allowed to do nice things for you," Sam replies simply.

Bucky breathes in a heavy breath.

"I don't like it, please stop," Bucky requests.

Sam looks bothered by this and Bucky instantly regrets it.

"No, people are allowed to be nice to you Bucky, they should be. You have to learn to accept this," Sam argues sternly.

Bucky's eyes dart down, his hands tense into fists. He hears Sam walk over to him.

"I know you think you don't deserve this, but you do. People care about you and this is how some people show that - through gestures, gifts, acts of service," Sam tells him.

"It makes me uncomfortable," Bucky admits. 

"I know, but it won't forever. Once you accept it, it will feel good and it makes us feel good to do these thing for you," Sam shares.

Bucky looks up at Sam when he hears that.

"It makes you feel good?"

"Yes," Sam confirms.

Bucky isn't sure how it could possibly feel good for Sam to have to constantly be going out of his way for Bucky, spending unnecessary money on him, worrying about him, having to calm him down from pointless anxiety attacks... although this was the first one in front of Sam.

Bucky can tell Sam would dispute that point, so he remains quiet. Sam accepts this non-response and reaches over for the bag of cat treats.

"Can I give one to Alpine?" he asks.

Bucky nods.

Sam begins making tiny whistle noises with his mouth to call the feline over. Alpine does come over eventually, which makes Bucky proud.

Sam enjoys handing her a couple treats and petting her as she eats them. Bucky admires the sight, it makes his chest feel light and fuzzy which is so much nicer than the tightness it felt only moments earlier.

Sam stands after Alpine finishes the last treat and he closes the bag, setting it down on the counter again.

"I think you should consider talking to someone," Sam shares.

Bucky doesn't like this idea, his entire head clouds with fear and worry over it.

"I think it would help," Sam adds. 

Bucky feels traps, he hates the idea, but Sam is suggesting it and he doesn't want to disappoint Sam. Then again, this could be a way to thank Sam without saying the words. 

"Okay," Bucky agrees.

"Great, I can suggest a few people," Sam says and finds a notepad and pen in Bucky's kitchen to write some names and numbers down.

When he's done he looks up at Bucky.

"Want to watch a movie or something?" Sam offers.

The idea is very appealing to Bucky. He likes hanging out with Sam and he specifically likes when they watch movies because it means two hours of being near Sam, but having no pressure to talk. He can focus on the movie and feel calm that Sam is next to him. Today, he put Sam through too much and even though Sam claims he likes helping him, Bucky can't force anymore of his time. 

"No, I'm tired," Bucky lies. 

Sam nods understandingly.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow?" Sam checks.

"Yeah," Bucky confirms.

He watches Sam leave and then drops to the hard floor. Thankfully, Alpine joins him again so he doesn't have to be alone in his misery.

Bucky starts therapy two weeks later with a woman named Nina. It was one of the names on Sam's list, he said she'd been recommended through a lot of people he knew. 

Bucky hates therapy. He doesn't want to tell this woman anything. Why would he confess any of his true thoughts to this stranger? Since he despises these sessions so much he asks on the second session if he can bring his cat. Bucky's surprised when Nina agrees, but it does make him like the lady a tiny bit.

On the third session, Bucky shows up with Alpine and he would be very content sitting in silence the entire hour only petting the feline in his lap. Instead, Nina decides to ask him multiple questions regarding his little angel and since it's about Alpine, Bucky answers them all.

Ends up, Alpine has been a good coping mechanism for Bucky and may have unintentionally become an emotional support pet. Which is apparently good. Bucky is happy with this new knowledge even though he could have told the shrink himself that Alpine is the most wonderful creature alive. Well, other than Sam who helps him just as much as Alpine, but he's not about to tell his therapist that.

A few weeks into therapy, Sam makes one of his routine stops to Bucky's apartment with a bag of groceries. He finally asks Bucky about it.

"So, how's therapy going?" 

Bucky tenses up as he continues putting the groceries away next to Sam.

"Fine," Bucky lies because he doesn't want to disappoint Sam and tell him how much he thinks it's a waste of time.

"You think it's helping?" Sam pries.

Bucky nods, a pang of guilt hitting his chest with his falsities. 

"That's good. Wanna watch a movie?" Sam offers for the second time.

Bucky wants to say yes again. He decides since he's forcing himself to go to therapy for Sam, he can allow himself a movie night.

"Sure."

They turn on a movie and sit a good distance apart on Bucky's couch. Sam was smart to find Bucky a furnished apartment, otherwise they would have no where to sit, he barely bought any furniture in his Brooklyn apartment. As the movie is starting up, Bucky feels himself growing cold and moves to turn up the heat on the radiator.

"You're cold?" Sam remarks stunned.

"Yeah... a little. You're not?" Bucky asks regretfully.

"I'm boiling over here, it's so warm," Sam reveals.

Bucky frowns instantly and speedily twists back around to lower the heat.

"You don't have to lower it for me," Sam battles.

"It's okay, I can be cold," Bucky determines and returns to his seat on the couch.

Bucky can feel Sam staring daggers into the side of his face until he finally meets Sam's lingering gaze.

"I was just thinking, don't you have a sweater you could throw on? You know, since you're cold," Sam prompts, biting back a knowing smirk.

Bucky rolls his eyes at the suggestion, wanting to protest immediately.

"You didn't throw it out, did you?" Sam tests.

Bucky shakes his head and gets up from the couch to retrieve the gift from the closet. He returns holding the sweater in his hands.

"Put it on," Sam demands.

Bucky stalls, but Sam doesn't break eye contact and a strange pressure weighs Bucky down until he gives in and throws the soft layer over his head. He pushes his arms through the sleeves and adjusts the sweater over his torso. He already feels warm, but he doesn't want to admit this to Sam. Surprisingly, Sam keeps quiet and simply directs his eyes back to the TV.

Sam never says anything else about the sweater and when he leaves, Bucky keeps it on because it's warm and nice. He even sleeps in the sweater and then he wears it the next day to work.

Joaquin looks astounded when he sees Bucky stroll into work with the sweater on. Bucky almost forgets that he's wearing it and wonders why Joaquin looks so elated by his presence.

"You're wearing the sweater!" Joaquin exclaims so loud even Sam looks up from across the room.

Bucky feels himself blush.

"Yeah," Bucky murmurs quietly.

Joaquin quickly suppresses his over extended smile and nods, trying to appear more casual.

"Cool," Joaquin's voice breaks.

Bucky almost wants to laugh at the kid's voice crack, but he doesn't especially when he remembers that he never did thank Joaquin for the gift.

Bucky's throat suddenly goes tight and his chest hurts again.

"Uh, Joaquin..." Bucky begins and the kid promptly looks up.

"Thanks... for the sweater," Bucky gets out.

Joaquin smiles wide.

"Of course, glad you liked it," Joaquin beams. 

Bucky nods with a stiff face, his expression not showing the truth. Which is that Bucky couldn't be prouder of himself. He's almost in disbelief he actually managed to thank Joaquin.

Bucky finds so much joy in this small accomplishment that he shockingly decides to share it with Nina in their next therapy session.

Nina instantly asks who Joaquin is, along with a ton more questions that Bucky isn't prepared for. Bucky goes quiet and stares down at Alpine.

"Is that the sweater?" Nina asks rather than waiting for an answer to any of the questions Bucky never responds to.

Bucky is wearing the sweater on this day as well, he's been wearing it everyday. It keeps him at a comfortable temperature and now that he's managed to express gratitude to Joaquin for the gift, he finally feels like he's allowed to wear it. So now, he never wants to take it off. 

"Yes," Bucky finally answers.

"It looks very warm," she notes.

"It is... and soft... like Alpine," Bucky sighs contently, still petting the cat in his lap.

"Mhm, makes sense why you would like it so much and it came from someone you care about," Nina comments.

Bucky's eyes shoot up at that.

"I don't like him like that," Bucky warns and his voice may have been too stern because Nina looks almost startled.

Bucky wants to apology for his tone, but no words come out.

"I didn't mean to infer you did. Can I ask, what is your relationship with him?" Nina eventually speaks over the extended silence.

"I work with him, I train him. I work for Sam," Bucky states plainly.

Nina nods, writing something down in her notepad. Bucky hates when she writes things down. He can't see what she's writing, why does she have to write so much?

"What are you writing?" Bucky nervously asks for the first time.

"Notes for myself, I like to remember details so hopefully they can help us," she explains nicely.

"Help us what?" Bucky questions sharply.

"Help you through any issues," Nina expands.

Bucky wants to argue and say he doesn't have any issues, but he knows that's the biggest lie imaginable. He has too many to count. So, he stays quiet and looks at Alpine until his heartbeat calms again. It somehow sped up in the last few minutes without him realizing. 

"I'd really like to know more about Joaquin and Sam. Would you like to talk about them?" Nina prompts carefully. 

Bucky likes talking about Sam, it's easy to talk about him. So, he does. He doesn't tell Nina everything. He purposely leaves out how they met, how he tries to assassinate him and ripped a steering wheel out of the car he was driving. Instead, Bucky merely tells her how Sam offered him this job and helped him find a place to live. He mentions how Sam always checks up on him and always with groceries. Bucky complains right away about how much that bothers him.

"Why does Sam bringing you groceries bother you?" Nina inquires, writing a lot down in her notepad.

Bucky ignores her incessant writing and looks off towards the window to reply.

"He doesn't need to. I've asked him to stop and he won't. He shouldn't be doing so many nice things for me," Bucky grits, getting angered merely at the thought.

He expects Nina to tell him that he's wrong, that he shouldn't be mad or that Sam is allowed to be nice to him. Instead, she presents another question. 

"What other nice things does Sam do for you?" 

Bucky slowly meets her eyes and shrugs.

"All kinds of things. He's... one of the best people I know."

Chapter Text

Sam shows up at Bucky's apartment again, but this time without a bag of groceries. This time, he's holding a brown bag filled with Chinese take-out containers.

"Hope you didn't eat already," Sam quips, holding the food up.

Bucky shakes his head meaninglessly, knowing he would eat regardless.

Sam opens the Chinese food and they sit at Bucky's kitchen island to eat.

Bucky decides to bring up therapy, he knows Sam is wondering and he has to admit it's been going better since he started talking about Sam. 

"Therapy is good," Bucky comments simply. 

Sam peers up surprised.

"Yeah? I'm happy to hear that. Did she say anything about that sweater?" Sam replies.

Bucky looks down at the sweater he's still wearing.

"Yeah - how'd you know?" Bucky asks suspiciously.

Sam laughs lightly.

"You haven't taken it off," Sam notes.

Bucky swallows nervously. He had been so proud that he was able to wear the sweater, maybe he made another wrong decision.

"I... I thought you wanted me to wear it?" Bucky stammers.

"I hope you're not wearing it for me."

"I like it," Bucky corrects.

"Good - it's a real nice sweater, kinda makes me wish I had one," Sam jests.

"You want it?" Bucky offers immediately.

"No, it's yours. When was the last time you washed that thing?" Sam accuses.

Bucky's brows knit together.

"Um..." Bucky mumbles, ashamed at the truth of that answer.

"You should really wash it," Sam determines. 

"Okay," Bucky sighs, already disappointed at the thought of having to take the sweater off for a few hours.

Sam gives him an amused smile.

"You need a second sweater to wear for when you wash this one," Sam jokes.

Bucky can't help the small smile that sneaks onto his face.

"Is that... a smile?" Sam gasps kiddingly.

Bucky presses his mouth tight trying to hide it.

"I don't need another sweater," Bucky murmurs.

"I'll get you one for Christmas," Sam remarks casually.

"No, don't," Bucky stresses.

Sam flashes him a tired look.

"I'm allowed to get you a gift," Sam debates.

Bucky huffs out a frustrated breath.

"You give me stuff all the time," Bucky grumbles unhappily.

"Sorry I'm such a good friend," Sam battles sarcastically.

"You're the best," Bucky mutters without thinking.

Sam stares at him a little stunned. Bucky's face goes hot. Bucky is pretty sure he didn't say anything wrong, but the air thickens in the silence and it becomes uncomfortable. Bucky considers apologizing when Sam finally breaks the silence.

"I'm actually going home to Louisiana for the holidays, if you want to join."

Bucky freezes. The last thing he ever expected was to be invited to a holiday, especially with Sam's family. The invite is beyond tempting. It sounds like the best possible way Bucky could spend the lonesome day, but should he admit this? Is he allowed to accept? This seems like too huge of a gesture.

Sam continues eating, glancing up occasionally as Bucky remains unmoved and not answering.

"You can think about it," Sam adds.

Bucky manages a nod and eventually picks at the rest of his food. He needs to ask his therapist about this.

Bucky speaks with Nina about the invite to Louisiana. His therapist explains that accompanying Sam on this trip does not mean that Bucky is infringing on Sam's family as Bucky greatly points out. 

Bucky is skeptical, but the desire to go on this trip and spend more time with Sam, Sarah and the boys trumps any of his fears. Bucky decides he will accept the invite.

Sam is thrilled when Bucky shares his decision. They catch a flight the following week, a few days before Thanksgiving. 

On the flight, Bucky has been wrapping his brain for things he can do to thank Sam for this trip, for letting him stay with his family... for everything.

"Let me buy the food," Bucky divulges abruptly after they had been quiet for a long while.

"What food?" Sam questions.

"Thanksgiving, I can buy it all," Bucky insists.

Sam shakes his head in refusal, as Bucky expected.

"I have to, Sam," Bucky demands sternly and Sam flashes him an amused look of surprise that reels Bucky's dominance in.

"No, you don't. I invited you," Sam counters.

"So? I can buy the food," Bucky determines trying to gain the confidence back in his voice, but Sam can so easily break him apart with one look.

Sam gives him another one of those looks, making Bucky crumble internally.

"No," Sam refuses evenly.

Bucky does not react well to this. He soon feels a wave of devastation crash over him, recognizing a weight of hopelessness at the fact that Sam's not letting Bucky repay him. Bucky's breathing kicks up as he turns forward, his vision blurring on the fabric of the seat in front of him.

They're on a private plane, but it still doesn't shed the humiliation that begins working its way up Bucky's throat at the fact that he's panicking again.

Bucky hunches forward trying to hide the reaction of his body, but only causing more attention by doing so.

Sam doesn't even hesitate, Bucky feels Sam's arms wrap around him quickly.

"Hey, hey it's okay... breathe," Sam soothes calmly by his ear.

Bucky's gasping for air, he can't breathe. He doesn't know what's wrong with him, his face drains all of it's color and he's dizzy.

Sam's grip grows tighter and his hand rubs up and down Bucky's arm until Bucky's breathing begins to reduce in intensity.

Bucky's face flushes red hot, the embarrassment taking over like it did last time. Only this time, he can't escape, can't ask to go home. He's on a plane, in the air with Sam, he's stuck.

Sam hasn't let him go yet and as nice as it feels, Bucky is filled with guilt for Sam needing to comfort him. Bucky's about to pull away, signal to Sam he's fine when he feels a slight wetness touch the side of face. Bucky's eyes close instantly when he recognizes it's Sam's lips pressing a kiss to his temple. Bucky can't remember the last time he'd been gifted such a soft kiss. It's overwhelming and at the same time, Bucky's entire body stills with a serenity he doesn't expect. Bucky inhales as a tranquility travels over his body. He wishes he never had to move.

To Bucky's dismay, Sam pulls back, his arms unlatching. Which evokes a chilling air to whisk over Bucky, bringing him back to reality.

Bucky opens his eyes, but doesn't look at Sam.

"I'm sorry," Bucky mumbles.

"Don't be sorry," Sam assures him gently. 

Sam doesn't say anymore, doesn't explain the tender kiss or comment about Bucky's panic attack. They sit in a mutual quiet until the plane lands.

Bucky is uncomfortable, he doesn't like that him and Sam aren't talking about the incident on the plane even though the idea of discussing it further sounds excruciating.

As they wait for their luggage to be brought out, Bucky can't hold back - he has to say something to ease the tension crawling inside of him.

"You shouldn't take care of me," is what Bucky decides on. Which is apparently the wrong thing to say by the reprimanding glare that appears on Sam's face.

Bucky gulps down an uneasy lump.

"Don't do that," Sam warns and Bucky's eyes flicker with confusion.

"Do what?" 

"Blame yourself, you did nothing wrong and I'm not doing anything I don't want to," Sam states firmly. 

Bucky swallows, his eyes finding the ground as their bags are placed in front of them. Sam thanks the workers and they take their bags to the car that will drive them to the main terminal where Sarah is picking them up.

Bucky wants to say more, wants to argue that Sam really needs to stop doing so much for him, but he can't make things worse. He can't upset Sam anymore, so he keeps his mouth shut.

Sarah and the boys are just as lovely as Bucky remembers them. They chat the entire way to Sarah's house, mainly catching up with Sam. At one point, Cass tries to sneakily tug Bucky's sleeve up to steal a glance at his arm. Bucky is allowing this, proceeding to gaze out the window as if he doesn't notice, but Sam catches his nephew in the rearview mirror.

"Cass," Sam scolds and Cass speedily pulls his hand away.

Bucky smiles to himself. A small, secret smile he hopes no one sees. 

Back at the house, Sarah begins cooking dinner and Bucky is thrilled when she lets him to help. When Bucky removes his coat and gloves to get started, the boys are instantly fixated on Bucky's metal hand. He's wearing a long sleeved-shirt so all they can see is his hand. Regardless, they are mesmerized, leaning over the counter to study every detail closely. Even as Bucky begins following Sarah's directions and preparing the food, getting the vibranium dirty in the process, they keep staring. Bucky is trapped in conflicting emotions. He dislikes the focused attention on his prosthetic, but since it's Sam's nephews, he appreciates their admiration of it.

After a lot of ogling, Sam playfully chases them into the other room to give Bucky a break.

As Sam and the boys run out of the kitchen, Bucky repeatedly glances up at Sarah, nervously. She catches his stares.

"What? Do I have something on me?" she asks, feeling her face.

Bucky shakes his head, still trying to build up the courage to extend the same offer he gave Sam on the plane.

"Then what?" Sarah chuckles lightheartedly. 

"Can I buy the food for Thanksgiving?" Bucky finally gets out in a quiet tone.

"Don't worry, it's already bought. We're cooking everything Thursday morning," Sarah replies easily.

Bucky feels his heart race, worrying Sam might overhear him making the same offer to his sister or worse, what if he breaks down and has another panic attack over stupid groceries.

Bucky stops mashing the potatoes and swallows tensely.

"Please, let me give you some money. You don't have to tell Sam," Bucky speaks even more hushed.

Sarah stops slicing the vegetables in front of her as Sam and the boys sprint back into the kitchen, circling the island and running into the living room with echoing laughter. 

Sarah and Bucky keep their eyes locked. Sarah is giving him a suspicious, unwavering look. It's slicing through Bucky, more intense than the looks Sam gives.

Bucky breaks away from her stare. His chest tightens as he fumbles to start mashing the potatoes again. Surprisingly, Sarah doesn't continue their conversation. Bucky is relieved for the silence even if he can't supply the money to her. 

Dinner is wonderful, everyone is chatting and laughing. Sam keeps joking around with the boys.

Bucky keeps quiet most of the meal, but he's enjoying every second of it. He's happy there's not much attention on him. Every time Sarah meets Bucky's eyes for a moment, he worries that she's about to bring up their conversation from earlier, but she never does.

Dinner finishes and they all watch a movie. Watching a movie with Sam, Sarah and the boys is even more comforting than it is with only Sam. Bucky tries not to feel like a part of the family, tries to keep himself distanced in his mind, he doesn't want to get used to something he can't have.

When it gets late enough, Sam and Sarah puts the boys to bed and Bucky waits awkwardly on the couch. He doesn't want to go anywhere he's not allowed, he's a guest in their home so he stays put until Sam returns with a bundle of blankets and a pillow.

"Hey, we can set you up on the couch for the night. Hope that's okay?" Sam says.

"Of course," Bucky replies and shoots up from the couch to take the bedding from Sam. 

Sam allows this and watches as Bucky begins making up the couch.

"I'm glad you came," Sam comments.

The words send a warmth through Bucky's chest. He turns around after finishes the makeshift bed.

"Me too," Bucky concurs.

The two stand in silence for a moment and Bucky wonders if he should try bringing up what happened on the plane or the money again, but he can't. 

"Okay, well goodnight," Sam expresses finally.

"Goodnight," Bucky returns.

Sam heads to the front door. Bucky hears it open and closes shut again. Bucky isn't sure where Sam's going, but doesn't feel right asking. So, Bucky simply moves to settle onto the couch, pulling the top blanket back to sit down. He unties his boots and slips them off, leaving them nicely to the side of the couch before he stretches his legs out and lies down his back.

That's when he discovers what Sam is doing outside. He's on the porch, talking to Sarah. Even with the door and windows shut, it's Bucky's super hearing that enables him to overhear every word of their conversation. Bucky tenses, feeling very wrong for ease-dropping, but the problem is he's exactly where they put him. Where can he go? He tries blocking his ears with his hands, it doesn't work. He shoves the pillow around his head, it doesn't work either. He contemplates getting up, sneaking into the back yard for a while, but he hasn't asked them if he's allowed in the backyard. This is their home, he can't go where ever he pleases - he can't disrespect Sam's family. So, Bucky freezes with regret at the fact that he can hear their private exchange.

"It's the way you look at him," Bucky hears Sarah say.

"How do I look at him?" Sam rebuttals.

There's a beat of silence, Bucky wonders who they're talking about. His face cringing with guilt that he can wonder that at all. He shouldn't be hearing this.

"Alright, look I'm figuring things out, but it doesn't matter... I really don't think he feels the same way," He hears Sam respond and the disappointment in Sam's tone makes Bucky's heart clench. Now, he really wants to know who this person is. Bucky would really like to smash some sense into that guy for putting even an ounce of sadness into Sam's voice.

"Honestly, he might not know," Sarah responds.

"Know what?" Sam asks.

"How he feels. I doubt he's thought about it, maybe if someone pointed it out to him," Sarah clarifies.

"Don't," Sam warns harshly, his sternness surprising Bucky.

Bucky wonders why this person causes Sam to be so hostile.

"I won't, you should," Sarah battles back. "At least, for his own sake. I honestly don't know if it'll ever occur to him."

"You mean dating in general or dating me?" Sam questions.

Bucky's brows knit together at that. He hadn't thought about Sam dating. He realizes he knows nothing about Sam's past relationships. He also hasn't thought about dating for himself in a very long time. It sounds daunting especially when he would have to explain his past, have to explain the arm, have to explain the serum, have to explain... everything. Bucky shakes his head at the intimidating thought. Then, he hears Sarah answer Sam's question.

"Both," she determines. "You know, you might get what you want."

Sam deserves everything he wants, Bucky thinks. Who's this person who won't give Sam what he wants? Bucky feels a pit of anger igniting deep in his gut.

"Yeah, you're always right," He hears Sam sigh.

Sarah laughs and then there's silence that lingers for a while. Bucky doesn't move until he hears the front door open again. On instinct, he shoots up to a seated position, the blanket falling off him in the process. Sam walks in and spots Bucky.

"Aren't you gonna change?" Sam inquires, noticing the jeans and shirt that Bucky has been wearing all day.

"Into what?" Bucky replies. 

Normally, Bucky sleeps in only his boxers because he typically wakes up in a cold sweat from vicious nightmares each night. He didn't think it was appropriate to sleep half naked in Sarah's home and besides, he's slept in a lot more uncomfortable attire.

"Pajamas?" Sam expands.

"I don't have pajamas."

"Then, something more comfortable like sweats?" Sam pushes.

"I didn't pack my sweater, you told me to wash it," Bucky sighs, really despising himself for not washing it in time for this trip.

"I'll let you borrow some of mine," Sam offers.

"Wear your clothes?" Bucky clarifies.

"Yeah, borrow them for the night, it's not a big deal. I thought you would have packed yourself something," Sam rolls his eyes kiddingly, but Bucky can't joke when Sam is yet again going out of his way for him... giving up his own clothes.

"I'm okay," Bucky declines.

"It's fine Buck, it's weird you sleeping in jeans," Sam opposes.

If Bucky has a bad nightmare, which he almost certainly will, he would soil Sam's clothes with sweat. He doesn't want to dirty Sam's clothes like that.

"I might not sleep," Bucky argues sheepishly, hoping this will sway Sam's mind.

Sam barely takes a beat to digest this.

"Well, in case you do," he replies easily and walks to the stairs not waiting for Bucky to agree.

Bucky watches Sam ascend up the stairs and doesn't move. He stays in the same spot, seated on the couch, until Sam returns with folded clothes in his hands. He hands them to Bucky. 

Bucky hesitates accepting and he can feel Sam narrowing his eyes above him, about to argue. 

"I can wash them tomorrow," Bucky reluctantly says as he takes the clothes from Sam.

"Okay," Sam agrees. "Goodnight."

Bucky watches as Sam heads back up the stairs. Bucky stands to strip out of his clothes and into the sweatpants and sweatshirt from Sam. The matching set is very soft, just as cozy as the sweater Joaquin gave him. Bucky smiles to himself, feeling happy and warm.

He sits back down and considers not sleeping so he can keep the clothes clean and dry. He lies on his back and pulls the blanket over him. He stares at the ceiling, planning to stay awake for the night as this seems like the most logical solution. Without realizing, Bucky drifts off into a soundless sleep. 

Chapter Text

Bucky awakes with the sun shining on his face. He blinks, trying to conclude whether he slept the whole night peacefully and how that's possible. He pats his body, clothes are dry. He blinks with wonder and sits up. He looks around when he hears someone descending down the stairs. It's Sam.

Sam smiles at him and Bucky doesn't realize when he smiles right back. Sam approaches the couch and Bucky suppresses the smile, he must be overjoyed with the fact that he didn't have a nightmare for once.

"Sleep well?" Sam asks.

For the first time Bucky can say yes, but he only nods. 

"Need to wash those? I can throw them in with my load," Sam points to Bucky's borrowed clothes.

The clothes are clean, but Bucky told Sam he would wash them in the morning and doesn't want to break that promise. Bucky nods once more as he pulls the blanket off himself and stands to draw the sweatshirt over his head. His t-shirt underneath catches with the fabric in the process. He tugs the shirt back down as he holds the sweatshirt out to Sam who's staring with a strange expression. Sam doesn't move to accept the item.

"Now?" Bucky clarifies when he's waiting, arm still extended with the sweater.

"Uh huh," Sam mumbles, finally retrieving the sweatshirt from Bucky's hand.

Bucky's brows furrow as Sam's eyes dart away and he treks to the laundry room. Bucky strips off the sweatpants next and puts his jeans back on. Then, he follows the direction Sam went to hand him the second item to wash.

Sam is throwing a handful of clothes into the washing machine when Bucky steps up to hand him the pants. Sam takes them and throws the item in.

"Can I have them back tonight?" Bucky bravely asks.

"Yeah," Sam gravels, his voice catching in his throat and Bucky isn't sure why Sam seems so off right now. Maybe he's not a morning person, Bucky presumes. 

Sam offers him coffee next which delights Bucky very much. Bucky loves coffee, partly for the taste, but mainly for the warmth. 

When Sam hands him a mug of freshly brewed coffee, Bucky holds it tightly in his hands, letting the steam smoke over his face and sighs contently. He takes a sip, letting his eyes fall closed to savor the warmth on his tongue. He opens his eyes and finds Sam smirking at the sight.

"Did you want that iced?" Sam grins.

Bucky immediately widens his eyes in horror at the suggestion. Sam chuckles before pouring himself a mug and taking a sip right away, not taking the time to appreciate the hot beverage as Bucky did.

They are sipping their coffee when Sarah and the boys appear in the kitchen.

"Who wants breakfast?" Sarah calls.

"Me!" the boys yelp in unison making Bucky want to smile again. He raises his mug to his lips to cover his curving mouth. After taking another sip, he's able to diminish the smile fully. 

Sarah begins breakfast and Bucky is very pleased when she lets him help again.

That night, after dinner, AJ and Cass request another movie night. Bucky is delighted by the idea of repeating that activity, but Sam and Sarah exchange looks.

"Actually, I think Uncle Sam has plans with Bucky tonight," Sarah mentions, eyeing Sam with a very interesting expression.

Bucky observes the siblings curiously. Sam appears uneasy in response to Sarah's deafening stare. Bucky isn't sure what's going on or what these plans are.

"Right... I wanted to show you the town, Buck. Thought we could grab a drink at one of the bars," Sam finally explains, meeting Bucky's eyes.

Bucky nods and shrugs. They head to a bar.

At the bar, everyone seems to know Sam. The bartender recognizes Sam as well as a few patrons who approach him. Everyone is very friendly, wearing wide smiles and even hugging Sam at times. Some people tell him what an amazing job he's doing. Bucky watches with appreciation, keeping a good distance so Sam isn't necessarily seen with him. Eventually, Sam tuns back and sees how many steps back Bucky is. Sam motions him over as he settles onto one of the bar stools. Bucky takes a seat next to him and they order drinks.

The bartender supplies them beers before disappearing into a back room. The bar isn't too packed, although it's not super late yet. Bucky glances at Sam while he takes a gulp of his beer. He still looks unsettled and Bucky doesn't like that. He thinks back to the conversation he overhead last night. Maybe Sam isn't his normal, chipper self because of that unknown person not giving Sam what he wants. Damn that person, Bucky thinks as he takes a sip of his beer.

"Oh look," a husky, mocking voice sounds nears them. "It's the Falcon."

Bucky and Sam peer up to find two older men. They are hefty with enough muscle for a bar fight. Both sporting long beards and bald heads. 

"Gentlemen," Sam nods to greet them, but they clearly aren't fans.

Bucky feels his heart speed up, adrenaline kicking in as his grip tightens on his glass beer bottle.

"Didn't know the flying bird gets a night off," one man snickers.

Bucky's blood boils instantly. His entire body stiffens with rage, but he holds himself back for Sam.

"Don't you have some gang of aliens to fight off?" the second man combats. 

They both inch closer to Sam, leaning over him in a daunting manner. Sam remains unaffected in his body language keeping his casual, seated position. 

"No aliens for tonight," Sam remarks cooly. 

"Shouldn't you be fluffing your wings or something?" the first man spits.

Bucky shifts forward, but Sam's hand reaches over and holds his forearm tight, telling him no. Bucky looks like he could pop a vein trying to hold back as Sam looks calmly towards the men.

"Not tonight. Excuse me," Sam comments and then stands.

Bucky watches closely, waiting to pounce on the men if they lay a single finger on Sam, but they let Sam pass. Bucky can see out of the corner of his eye that Sam proceeds to the bathroom, but he's not letting his eyes leave these idiots in front of him.

The men finally gaze over to Bucky.

"What are you - his sidekick?" the one man huffs a laugh.

Bucky stands, clenching his fists. He knows Sam wouldn't want him to hit them, but they can't treat Sam this way. 

"You touch him, you die," Bucky mutters low and heavy, but loud enough for the men to hear.

"Are you threatening us?" the one man growls.

Bucky refuses to answer which seems to only piss them off more. That's when the first man jolts forward, swinging a fist at Bucky who easily dodges the attack. Bucky steps around the bar stool to create space and leans away from a second attempt from the other man. Some bystanders call out, telling them to stop. The men stumble towards Bucky flailing yet another punch towards him, but he easily ducks again.

The bartender threatens to call the police and the crowd around them is building. That's when the one man grabs one of their beers and hurls it at Bucky's head. A woman screams when the glass shatters against a wooden pillar behind Bucky, who veered clear of the flying item.

"Fucking fight us - you asshole!" the man shouts and lunges at Bucky who's about to step aside when Sam's voice rings out.

"Bucky stop!" 

Bucky turns on instinct towards Sam's voice and catches the look of horror on Sam's face right before the guy swings his fist into Bucky's face, knocking him hard under his right eye. Bucky stumbles backwards. Rage boiling inside Bucky, he could tear the man's head off, kill him with one twist of his wrist and he wants to, but he forces himself back. 

Sam pulls Bucky out of the bar and the men let them leave. Bucky keeps checking behind them to make sure the men aren't following them out as Sam drags them back to his truck. They get to the vehicle safely. Bucky climbs into the passenger seat as Sam slams the driver side door.

"I didn't touch them," Bucky grumbles as Sam starts the engine. 

They drive back to the house in silence. Those men deserved far worse, but he upset Sam, so Bucky drowns in guilt and anger on the silent drive home.

Back at the house, Sam guides Bucky to the bathroom and pushes him to sit down on the closed, toilet seat lid. Sam wets a washcloth and takes out a first-aid kit. He sits on the edge of the bathtub across from Bucky and dabs the bleeding area under Bucky's eye.

"Sam, it'll heal by tomorrow," Bucky dismisses, leaning his head back away from the cloth.

Sam narrows his eyes.

"I don't care," Sam spits.

Sam uses his other hand to hold the back of Bucky's head and pull him forward so the cloth presses into the bruised, bleeding skin again. Bucky stays quiet, letting Sam clean the cut while refusing to look at him. He stares down at his lap, making sure not to hiss even when Sam applies alcohol and it stings his skin.

Bucky's mind is reeling nonstop. The only time Bucky feels the desire to fight is when Sam's in danger. Tonight, a mere civilian posed as a threat to Sam. Sure, Sam could have taken the men easily, but what if the whole bar teamed up on him? What if a bar of criminals attacked him? Bucky imagines if it was Sam who took the hit from that idiot. How awful it would be for Sarah and the boys to have to see Sam scratched up, even for a day. The horror of the thought slices through Bucky and he makes a decision he hasn't made in a long time. 

"I should be out there with you," Bucky rasps.

"I don't want you fighting," Sam refuses.

"I need to," Bucky argues.

"You don't. I like to know you're... safe," Sam battles, his voice quiet.

Bucky blinks up and meets Sam's eyes. Sam continues dabbing the wounded skin.

"It doesn't matter if I'm safe - it matters if you are," Bucky retorts.

Sam's face winces.

"It does matter, shut up," Sam warns sharply.

Bucky does shut up, not saying another word, but knows he won't listen, he can't sit by any longer no matter what Sam says.

The next morning, the boys see Bucky's bruised eye. It's already half healed, barely any blood visible and mainly light bruising remains. Even so, it's still obvious enough on his face that they notice.

"What happened to you?" Cass cries out.

"Someone hurt you?" AJ shrieks. 

Their scared voices make Bucky's heart sink, his throat tightens in an instant.

"There was a minor disagreement at the bar, but we're fine," Sam thankfully answers for him.

The boys lean closer, looking fearfully at Bucky's eye.

"Did someone punch you? I didn't think you could get hurt," Cass bellows.

"He let them," Sam intervenes. "No one could hurt him unless he lets them."

"Why would you let them, Bucky?" AJ questions, his eyes filled with sorrow.

Bucky chokes on his attempt to respond, he can't handle the hurt and worry on their little faces.

"Alright boys, we can discuss this later. Time for school," Sarah interrupts.

Bucky has no idea how Sarah is able to handle this. He's completely shattering, he can't even speak.

Sarah rushes the boys off with their lunch boxes and they head out the door to catch the bus. Bucky stares down at his coffee as Sarah rejoins him and Sam.

"So, who's going to tell me what happened?" Sarah demands.

"Nothing, some guys were trying to start a fight," Sam dismisses. 

"Clearly, they didn't just try," Sarah motions to Bucky's face. 

Bucky looks up regretfully before answering Sarah.

"Sam went to the bathroom, I threatened them," Bucky reveals and both siblings look shocked.

"You threatened them?" Sam repeats, only discovering this news now. 

Bucky can't control the response that erupts out of him a second later.

"I could have killed them Sam!" 

Sam and Sarah stare wide eyed. Bucky can't take the look on their faces, can't take disappointing them. Bucky shoots up from his chair and briskly walks out of the house. He can hear Sam apologize on his behalf. As he walks through the front door and swings it shut, he can still overhear Sarah's response. 

"Did you even get to talk to him?"

Bucky keeps walking, doesn't stop. He hates himself, hates those men. He's overcome with rage coursing through his veins. His vision is blurred and red hot. He jerks his phone out of his pocket and calls Nina. She gave him a number, she called it a crisis line. She told him that he could call her for any emergency. Bucky dials the number and she answers right away.

"I'm angry, so angry," Bucky hisses into the phone.

"James. Take a deep breath, what's going on?" Nina presses.

"I could have killed them, if they laid a hand on Sam. I wanted to kill them," Bucky grits through his teeth, the fury only burning hotter as he recalls it.

His breath feels ragged and suddenly he can't hear what Nina is saying to him. Her voice sounds so far away, his focus withering. He drops to his knees and the phone falls from his hand. He can't breathe. He gasps for air, his hands gripping into the grass when he hears a presence behind him. He can't turn around, can't run. Strong arms envelope him and pull his chest back. Bucky squeezes his eyes shut before he hears Sam's voice in his ear.

"Breathe, breathe. I'm here, it's Sam. Just breathe."

It's been a few hours and they haven't talked about it. Sam waited until Bucky calmed down and they sat for a long time in the grass without speaking. Bucky lied on his back letting the sun beam down on his face. It felt nice and warm.

Sam eventually suggests they head back to the house. When they walk inside, Sarah peers worriedly over at them, but Sam guides Bucky upstairs without a word. He leads Bucky into his bedroom.

"Do you want to rest?" Sam asks, motioning to his bed.

Bucky shakes his head and stays standing.

"How's your face?" Sam asks, observing the skin that's healed even more over the past few hours. Any remnants of the wound is most likely gone by this point. 

"Fine," Bucky responds even though Sam can see for himself.

Sam steps closer and lets the pad of his thumb lightly glide over the area that was previously cut. Bucky reacts to the unnecessary touch, his eyes blinking slowly and his body calming slightly.

"Do you like that?" Sam asks.

"What?"

"When I... touch you?" Sam clarifies.

"Yeah," Bucky swallows, unsure if he should admit to this.

"I have a question for you," Sam follows up.

"You just asked one," Bucky points out for him.

"Don't be a smart ass," Sam smirks.

"Sorry," Bucky mumbles, pressing a smile down.

"Have you thought about dating at all?" Sam asks a question Bucky wasn't expecting.

Bucky pauses, considering this. The only times he thought about dating recently has been exactly twice. The first time was when Sam revealed Joaquin had a crush on him, the second time was when he overhead Sam say the word to Sarah. Both instances only made his stomach turn uneasily, but when he thinks about it, he does remember dating being a fond memory from his past. 

"Not much," Bucky replies finally.

"What do you think of it... right now?" Sam poses.

"I don't know," Buck shrugs, feeling very uncertain about the topic.

"You're not interested," Sam assumes.

"I don't know... sorry."

"Don't apologize. I was just curious. I know you had a negative reaction to Joaquin liking you," Sam returns.

"Not negative..." Bucky claims.

"It wasn't positive," Sam counters.

"Fair," Bucky smirks, not even realizing until a glimmer of surprise crosses Sam's face as he observes Bucky's expression. 

"I know you still have a lot to work through, but I hope you've gotten past the idea that no one should like you. You're allowed to be happy too," Sam says.

Bucky nods, unsure how to respond. When Sam doesn't say more, the air grows heavy around them. Bucky feels tense, feels the urge to break the tension.

"Joaquin should be crushing on you," Bucky quips with a small smile, hoping Sam won't be upset at this comment.

"You know, I am a little bitter about that sometimes," Sam jokes.

Bucky snorts a laugh at his response and Sam looks very amused at this.

"Sorry," Bucky apologizes quickly. 

"Sorry for laughing?" 

"Yeah," Bucky mumbles embarrassed.

"I think we should make you a sorry jar," Sam grins easily.

"What's that?"

"Like a swear jar, except you have to pay up every time you unnecessarily apologize," Sam expands.

"I don't do it that much."

"Yes, you do," Sam battles.

"Fine, sorry."

"Dollar in the sorry jar!" Sam calls loudly.

Bucky bites his lower lip back, smiling wide. He looks down at his feet.

"Fuck," Bucky mutters under his breath. 

"Do we need a swear jar too?" Sam jests, his tone laced with laughter.

Bucky looks back up.

"No."

Bucky's phone rings then, he pulls the device out of his pocket.

"It's Nina."

"You should take it."

Bucky does.

Chapter Text

Bucky and Nina talk for an hour over the phone. Bucky explains in detail what happened at the bar and answers each of Nina's questions which pertain to how Bucky was feeling in each moment. Nina says they will continue the conversation in their next session when Bucky gets back.

Therapy must be growing on Bucky because he doesn't want the call to end. He has an urge to tell Nina so much more. He wants to tell her about his trip, about his anxiety attacks, about not have a nightmare for the first time in years. Bucky has never shared anything about his anxiety or nightmares. There are a million things he hasn't shared with his therapist and suddenly, he wants to tell Nina everything. Maybe for Sam, so he can stop freaking out and having so many issues. Maybe if he's a little more normal, Sam won't worry so much and then he'll let Bucky fight by his side. Then, Bucky can keep Sam safe.

That night, Bucky has a nightmare. An awful one, the skin-crawling type that makes Bucky's lungs heave. He jolts up from the couch, drenched in sweat. He panics more the second he gains awareness of this, leaping off the couch and looking at the damp clothes sticking to his body. Sam's clothes... ruined.

Bucky strips off the sweats and throws them in the laundry room. Then, he runs outside in nothing but his boxers. If he was thinking straight he wouldn't have left the house without permission, but he needs to cool off and not let anyone find him in this state.

He sprints out the back door and runs for a while until the house looks small. He lies down on his stomach in the grass, letting the dewy blades scratch his face. He gasps heavily, squeezing his eyes shut and wishing Sam was here to kiss his temple. But Sam can't be here, can't see him like this. So, he takes deeps breaths and imagines Sam is here. Imagines the grip of Sam's arms tightly around him. The way Sam breathes softly into his ear, reminding him to breathe.

In time, it works and Bucky feels his chest lighten, his body stops trembling and he shivers instead from the cool air surrounding him. He stays still for a few moments before anger slips into his mind. He's mad he had another nightmare, mad he'll have to force himself to stay awake the rest of the trip to make sure he doesn't wake anyone, to make sure he doesn't ruin Sam's soft clothes again. 

Eventually, Bucky stands and treks back into the house. Now that he's in his right mind again, Bucky can be stealthy, move across the room without making a single sound. He pulls the blankets off the couch and sneaks to the laundry room. He places the clothes and blankets into the machine, adds detergent and turns on a new cycle. Unfortunately, regardless of how quiet Bucky can be, he can't control a washing machine and the device begins to make noise.

Bucky closes the laundry room door hoping it doesn't wake anyone. He sits on the couch, presses the pillow against his bare stomach and wraps him arms around it, trying to keep warm until the wash finishes. It's not working very well, he shivers on and off, but he sits in the cold waiting anyway.

Halfway through the cycle, he hears someone treading down the stairs. Bucky freezes, unsure what to do.

Luckily, it's Sam. Bucky would have been more humiliated if Sarah or the boys walked down to find him half naked in their living room. He's still overcome with guilt that he clearly woke Sam up. Sam's gaze is focused on the laundry room before setting his eyes on Bucky. Sam freezes, his face contorting when he sees Bucky's current state.

"Um, what's going on?" Sam asks carefully.

"Did I wake you?" Bucky whispers.

"I heard the laundry going, I'm a light sleeper," Sam supplies.

"Sorry," Bucky apologizes anyway.

"Sorry jar," Sam notes and that almost makes Bucky smile, but not quite.

Sam steps towards him.

"Are you okay?"

Bucky nods.

"Why are you doing laundry in the middle of the night?" Sam presses.

"I... sweat through them," Bucky admits shyly. 

Sam pauses for a beat.

"Okay, I'll get you new clothes," Sam declares.

"I can wait," Bucky refutes.

Sam doesn't respond, only turns to head back up the stairs. Bucky releases a heavy sigh, hating that he woke Sam and now he's taking more of his clothes.

Sam returns with a new pair of sweats. Bucky accepts them right away because he's too cold and tired to argue with Sam tonight. He stands, letting the pillow fall and throws the clothes on right in front of Sam.

Sam steps behind the couch to find another blanket and hands that to Bucky next. 

"Thanks," Bucky whispers. 

Sam nods before bending down to pick up the pillow Bucky let drop. He places it back in the spot Bucky had it on the couch. Bucky settles back on the couch and spreads the new blanket over his body, thrilled to feel warmth again. He sighs contently and then looks up at Sam who hasn't left. He contemplates standing again, feeling rude that he prioritized his comfort over Sam. He doesn't have time to consider this further when Sam kneels down, next to the couch. His face lines up with Bucky's. 

"Are you okay to be alone?" Sam checks.

The question throws Bucky. Of course, he can be alone. He's alone all the time, but the thought that Sam might be offering to stay with him tempts Bucky. That is, until Bucky realizes he can't inconvenience Sam anymore than he already has.

"Yeah," Bucky answers.

"Okay, I'm gonna turn off the laundry. We can finish it tomorrow," Sam states. 

Sam stands and goes to turn the machine off. The noise dies and Sam returns to the living room to wish Bucky a good night before making his way back upstairs.

Bucky stares up at the ceiling and forces himself to stay awake for the rest of the night.

Bucky doesn't sleep much for the rest of the trip. He avoids it all he can. Even as tired as he is, he manages to enjoy every second of Thanksgiving when the day comes. Bucky can hardly believe he's sitting at a table filled with bountiful plates of food, surrounded by a family he's cares way too much about even if they're not actually his family.

During the holiday dinner, Bucky feels almost high on endorphins, taking in the delicious food and the beautiful chatter and laughter ringing around the table. The fact that he's not alone on this day, like he assumed he would be, keeps hitting him unexpectedly in surges of joy in his chest.

Bucky has been quiet most of the meal, like usual. Until Sarah decides they can all go around to say what they're thankful for. Bucky's body goes rigid. This is his chance to truly express to not only Sam, but to Sarah and everyone how thankful his is that he can be here today and for all they have done for him. He knows he needs to take this opportunity, is mentally preparing to share his endless gratitude, but when Sam asks him if he wants to say something his throat closes. His heart thrums so loud in his ears, he can barely hear and he opens his mouth to speak, but the words aren't coming out.

He peers nervously between Sarah and Sam as everyone waits for his answer. He has to answer, has to. He clears his throat, forces himself to sit up straighter.

"I'm... very thankful-"  Bucky gets out, but then his mouth goes impossibly dry and he can't get anymore words out. Everyone is still staring, waiting, so Bucky manages a nod. Everyone smiles, accepting this minuscule statement as his contribution, but Bucky couldn't tell the Wilsons how unbelievably thankful he is to them, he hates himself.

Sam and Bucky fly home. They pay for a car and both travel straight to Bucky's apartment to see Alpine. Bucky suggested they split up the trip, but Sam claimed he didn't mind seeing the little kitty.

When they arrive at Bucky's apartment, Alpine sprints over and Bucky nearly collapses onto the floor to snuggle and kiss her. Sam snickers at the other man, but Bucky can't even be embarrassed, he's too thrilled to see his favorite girl.

Sam strolls around Bucky's kitchen, giving the two space, when he stops at Bucky's fridge. Sam notices the two photographs that Bucky got printed at a local store. One is a photo of Alpine and the other is the photo of Bucky with the Wilson family at lunch.

"You printed this?" Sam utters, touching the photo of his family.

"Yeah," Bucky replies easily, petting Alpine from the floor.

"You know, it's on your phone. You can look at it any time," Sam points out.

"But now I have a photo to put on my fridge," Bucky beams proudly.

The photos make Bucky so happy, he smiles every time he walks to his fridge.

"Yeah... I'm gonna call Sarah and tell her we landed safe," Sam notes before walking to the window. He opens it to step out onto the fire escape and closes the window behind him. Bucky watches curiously as Sam pull out his phone. 

Bucky can assume Sam walked outside to have a private conversation so he's once again riddled with guilt when he can effortlessly hear every word of the phone call starting. Bucky stands and tries to avoid hearing the conversation. He walks to his bedroom, then the bathroom, but he can hear it from every room. He's about to walk out to the hallway of his building, but he stops when he hears Sam say: "You wont believe what picture he has on his fridge."

Bucky freezes at Sam's disgruntled tone. A searing pain stings his chest and he can't move. Sam is unhappy about the photo? Bucky's mind spins uncontrollably, he gets lost in a thousand unsettling thoughts. Then, it's too late. Sam is saying goodbye and climbing back into the apartment. 

Bucky steps into the kitchen again as Sam shuts the window, back inside.

"Are you mad at me?" Bucky blurts out.

"No, why would I be mad at you?" Sam answers casually.

"I heard you tell Sarah about the picture," Bucky confesses regretfully.

"Oh... I forgot about your enhanced hearing," Sam reacts slowly.

"Do you want me to take it down?" Bucky offers quickly.

"No, I love that you want to hang it up," Sam refutes, but he's not smiling. He doesn't sound any happier than he did telling Sarah.

"You sounded mad," Bucky relays, his face wincing instinctively.

"I didn't mean to sound mad..." Sam sighs, the sad exhale causing Bucky's stomach to flip.

Sam looks away and fiddles with his phone in his hand. Bucky waits anxiously.

"I... I don't want to make you uncomfortable," Sam speaks hesitantly.

"You won't," Bucky assures him.

Sam sucks his lower lip in, struggling to continue this conversation. Bucky's heart races wildly now.

"Sam, what? I can handle it," Bucky urges.

Sam lets out an unsteady breath before continuing.

"I'm not mad, it's exactly what I want. If I sounded upset it's because I don't know how to tell you..." Sam explains, breaking off at the end.

"You just did," Bucky tries, but Sam shakes his head.

"No, tell you... that I like you. I l like you Buck," Sam states.

"I like you too, Sam," Bucky breathes easier for a second.

"No - um, like Joaquin likes you. Do you understand what I mean?" Sam asks shakily.

Bucky doesn't let his eyes widen, but the shock hits him in heavy waves. 

"Yeah... I..." Bucky fumbles over his words.

"You don't have to like me back, it's okay," Sam confirms before holding onto his elbows and turning away. 

The action makes Bucky's stomach drop, Sam's hurt, he hurt Sam.

Bucky speedily closes the space between them and puts his hand on Sam's shoulder, but Sam flinches away.

"Please, don't," Sam warns.

The rejection makes everything in Bucky's body ache. Sam is in distress, Bucky needs to help him. He can only think of one thing to do to help. He leans in close and presses a small kiss to Sam's temple. Sam goes rigid, not moving, and Bucky can see Sam's eyes are wide.

Bucky stands motionless as well, hoping that wasn't the wrong thing to do. Sam finally turns to face Bucky with an astounded expression. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to do.

"Sorry, It helps when you do that," Bucky defends swiftly.

"It does?" 

"Yeah - sorry," Bucky apologizes again.

"Sorry jar," Sam whispers.

Bucky almost smiles, but then he can't when he notices Sam is slowly leaning towards him now. Bucky doesn't let a muscle shift as Sam returns a soft kiss to Bucky's temple even though Bucky's not in distress currently. He still enjoys it though, letting his eyes blink closed for a moment. 

Bucky can sense Sam lingering close to the side of his face and when he turns his head, Sam's lips press to his mouth.

Bucky hasn't been properly kissed in forever. Presently, he's pretty pissed about that because Sam's lips taste like candy, they're sweet and soft. Bucky kisses him back, surprised at how natural the action comes back to him. His mouth is left tingling every time Sam draws back for a breath. Bucky keeps leaning back in and Sam only deepens the kiss by cradling the back of Bucky's head and tugging him closer by his jacket.

When Sam's tongue slips into his mouth, Bucky's skin burns with an immense heat. Bucky's floored he spent years not wanting this, never even thinking about this. How could he not remember how good making out is? Bucky pushes even closer against Sam's body, needing more. This causes his legs to straddle Sam's thigh and a shock bolts through him. Bucky spasms for a second, not realizing what that surge of electricity was until Sam pushes forward and his thigh presses up, causing it to happen again. That's when Bucky recognizes how much pressure is in between his legs. He's hard.

Bucky slows to a halt, letting out a shaky breath. He hasn't had an erection in what feels like forever. His face goes hot, every inch of his body tingling. Sam must feel Bucky's arousal and proceeds to slide his hand down Bucky's front until it grazes over the hardening outline. The light touch sends a jarring shock through Bucky. He tenses and jolts back without thinking.

Sam looks horrified by Bucky's aversion. Bucky swallows thickly, regretting his body's instinct.

"I'm sorry," Sam apologizes.

"I didn't mean to," Bucky shakes his head.

Sam stays frozen, but Bucky's eyes only fall back to Sam's lips again, already feeling deprived. Bucky leans back in, hoping Sam will still kiss him.

Sam is hesitant, not nearly as eager as he was a few seconds ago, but Bucky is melting at the taste and very quickly getting just as impatient. Bucky puts his hands on Sam, holding his sides, inevitably keeping him firmly in place. Sam begins to relax again, returning his affection more fervently. Sam's tongue slips back in and Bucky's anatomy has the same reaction, a pulse of heat courses through him almost painfully. Bucky squeezes his eyes, feeling a deafening urge to address the problem in his pants. Bucky steps back again, his expression remorseful.

"Sorry, I..." Bucky begins.

"Don't worry," Sam cuts him off, gliding a palm over his cheek. "We can go slow."

Bucky shakes his head both ways, muddled. At this point, Bucky feels like it'd be physically impossible to go slow. 

"I need... um, a minute," Bucky replies, unsure how to even handle how much his body is pulsing.

Sam nods.

"Okay, I actually have a counseling session soon, but... I'd love to pick this back up, tonight?" Sam raises hopeful.

Bucky nods his head quickly. Sam leans back in to leave a last, gentle kiss on his lips. Bucky keeps his eyes closed even as Sam draws back. Bucky opens his eyes and walks with Sam to the door. 

"See you tonight," Sam smiles as he opens the front door.

Bucky only nods again. He closes the door after Sam exits his apartment, his forehead dropping against the frame.

His pants are straining so tight he feels like they might rip, his whole body is on fire. He finally pushes off the wall and treks to his bedroom. He tears open the fasten of his pants and sheds them off quickly. He looks down at the bulge tenting in his boxers before shoving the undergarment off next. He climbs onto his bed, settling against the headboard and stares down at his throbbing member. He touches his fingertips to the head of his cock and shudders instantly. His cock feels hot, so hot to the touch, and a shade of red he hasn't seen. He glides the tips of fingers down the shaft and a shiver runs through his body, every touch is so sensitive. He's almost nervous to fully grasp himself, but he needs the relief. So, he carefully wraps his hand around the base and a wounded groan sounds from his throat. His eyes fall shut, his head hastily dropping back. It's so good, but so much. He pushes his closed fist up the shaft and moans loudly from the friction of his palm. He hears a meow and his eyes snap open to find Alpine in the doorway.

"Get out of here!" Bucky shouts and the feline leaps up onto her paws, startled at his volume. He frowns, despising himself for scaring his precious girl. He frees his hand and jumps off the bed to swing his door shut.

"Sorry, baby, I'll be out soon," he mutters against the closed door. He rushes back to the bed and back in position. He wastes no time enclosing his hand around himself, he grunts from the rushed contact. 

He takes a deep breath in as he inches his hand up and down, an indescribable feeling surging through him as he does. He doesn't remember it ever feeling like this, unsure how he's going to get through an orgasm when merely touching himself is this intense. He closes his eyes, letting out another shaky breath before just going for it. His hand moves steadily, picking up the pace. His hips jolt forward, his thighs shake and he grips the comforter in his other hand.  

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he pants, pausing for a moment. He's overwhelmed with how much he's feeling, but he needs to get off. The thick layer of arousal enveloping him feels insufferable at this point.

He drags his fist down the length again, but it's not smooth, it's rough and raw. He collects saliva in his mouth and spits a hefty amount onto his hand before grabbing himself again. The added, slick element eliciting another groan from his throat. 

Bucky squeezes his eyes shut, he can't wait anymore, can't keep this moderate pace any longer. His hand takes off on it's own accord, fast and hard. He can't hold back a long moan drawing from his lips as his legs spread wide. He can't slow down. He fists his cock at an absurd speed until an unbelievable pressure builds at his spine. Before he knows it, a blazing heat erupts inside him and all his limbs arch up, his orgasm rips through him so forcefully he might be howling, but he can't tell. His hearing is muffling, his vision whiting out in the explosion of pleasure.

When his vision clears, his lungs are heaving for air, his forehead covered in a cool sweat. He stares down at the thick mess spread over his hand, thighs, and bedding. 

He unlatches his hand, but can't consider moving anymore than that, his body completely spent. 

"Fuck," Bucky mutters to himself, wondering how he's not going to embarrass himself in front of Sam when he can barely survive a handjob.

Chapter Text

That night, Sam shows up with a bag of groceries. Bucky can't even focus on being annoyed, he's too focused on Sam's mouth. He watches Sam start putting the items away and this time he doesn't even offer any help. He's trapped in place, staring. 

Sam glances over at Bucky in between transporting the food and smiles, bewildered. He especially looks puzzled when Bucky does finally travel closer. Sam closes the fridge door and looks at Bucky curiously who has gotten dangerously close. Bucky waits a beat before shoving Sam against the fridge door, his hands pressing flat over Sam's ribs, before forcing his lips on Sam. Thankfully, Sam isn't mad about the aggressive behavior and returns his affections instantly.

Sam breathes into a wide smile when Bucky pulls back. Sam takes Bucky's hand and leads him to the couch to continue making out. Bucky is hoping since he got off earlier, things won't get as severe this time. He's wrong and it's not long before his whole body is burning and tingling again, sporting another raging boner.

He pulls away from Sam breathlessly. 

"Sorry, I... fuck..." Bucky grouses.

"Hey, it's okay," Sam replies.

Bucky shakes his head, scooting an inch away from the other man.

"I... have to..." Bucky drops his face in his hand. "I can't go slow."

"Hey, come here," Sam encourages, framing Bucky's face with his hands to pull him in. 

Bucky lets his face be guided and Sam draws Bucky's head close so he can kiss into Bucky's temple. It works, Bucky breathes out a calming breath for a moment.

"Let me help you," Sam whispers.

Bucky's eyes squeeze shut, his arousal viciously taking over that he barely hears Sam shift off the couch.

Bucky opens his eyes and finds Sam kneeling in front of him as Sam's hands reach for the fasten of his pants.

"Sam, you don't have to," Bucky rasps.

"I want to," Sam corrects.

Even the idea of what's about to happen is making Bucky's cock throb wildly in his pants. Sam isn't getting his fly open fast enough, but Bucky claws into the fabric of the couch, refusing to rush him.

Sam gets his pants open and reaches his hand into Bucky's boxers to grab his cock. Bucky groans at the contact, it's just as sensitive as it was a few hours ago. Sam smiles up at him before he licks a wet strip up the shaft. Bucky shudders, squeezing his eyes shut again.

"Fuck, fuck Sam," Bucky pants.

"Shh, I got you," Sam coos and then his lips enclose around the tip.

Bucky might lose his mind, no one prepared him for how amazing Sam's hot mouth would feel gliding down his cock. Bucky bites down on the inside of his mouth, trying to hold back, trying to stay even remotely calm when this is unreal - it's so much, so good.

Sam bobs his head up and down, his tongue pressing flatly against the underside of Bucky's cock and the pressure is building much too rapidly.

"Wait wait, stop," Bucky gasps.

Sam pulls off him carefully.

"Whats wrong?" Sam asks concerned. 

"I was too close," Bucky huffs, refusing to open his eyes. He can't even calm down, he's about to lose it.

"Just let go," Sam returns and then he squeezes Bucky's cock and sucks the head and Bucky's gone. An orgasm shatters through him, tearing a wail from his throat. He grips roughly into the couch, so he doesn't thrust into Sam's mouth.

When his head clears enough, he watches Sam's tongue glide around his cock, lapping up every drop of his release. Sam climbs back onto the couch and leans over to kiss along Bucky's jaw. Bucky finally catches his breath and turns to Sam, finding his mouth to properly kiss him back.

"I'm sorry," Bucky whispers as he leans over to kiss Sam's neck. Sam stretches his neck to give Bucky more access, but lets out a frustrated sigh.

"I swear, if you don't erase that word from your vocabulary..." Sam threatens loosely as Bucky presses his mouth harder into Sam's skin.

"I'll make it up to you," Bucky whispers and Sam inhales a breath that sounds like he's about to protest, but only a strained moan falls from his lips as Bucky sucks down on his neck.

Bucky unlatches his lips and leaves a trail of kisses down Sam's neck as he slips his hands under Sam's shirt to push it off him. Sam allows him to strip the shirt off and Bucky kisses along his collar bone. Sam grips into the back of Bucky's hair.

"So good, baby," Sam purrs and it sends a shock through Bucky. He hasn't been called a pet name in so long and hearing Sam sensually utter the word as Bucky's tasting his smooth skin is so perfect it almost hurts. He wants him so much, it's unbearable, why does everything have to feel so damn intense?

He grips Sam's waist and tugs him closer, apparently a little too harshly because Sam gasps as his body yanks forward.

"Sorry," Bucky mumbles.

Before Sam can protest the forbidden word Bucky dives back to his lips, kissing him sloppily. He presses his tongue into Sam's mouth and the wet kissing makes Bucky's body stir again. He can't be so selfish, he has to make Sam feel good before he gets lost in need again. He tears away from Sam's mouth to focus on getting Sam's pants off. Sam lets out a breath of surprise when Bucky roughly tugs the pants off him in one harsh motion. Sam's cock springs free and Bucky lowers himself in between Sam's thighs.

Bucky envelopes his lips around the head and begins swirling his tongue around in circles like he felt Sam do. The strained groan that fall from Sam's mouth mixed with recalling how incredible this felt, a few moments ago, when Sam was doing the same thing to him sends a charged vibration through Bucky. It's already getting to be too much, but Bucky needs to focus on Sam. So, he slides his mouth down, trying to hollow his cheeks out and fit Sam's cock in his mouth. He doesn't exactly know what he's doing, but it must be okay since Sam's pretty moans are only getting louder.

Bucky loves the sounds Sam's making and it's still eliciting recollections of what this feels like to pour into Bucky's brain. He tries sucking Sam, only bringing his mouth down halfway on Sam's cock so he can move his mouth up and down him steadily. He's hoping Sam will get off as fast as he did because he's really burning now. Bucky squeezes his thighs together trying to give Sam the attention he deserves, but it's only a few moments later that Bucky can't take it. He slides his mouth off Sam and springs up. 

"Fuck, Sam I... are you sure you want this? I don't know what I'm doing."

Bucky is already loathing himself. His stupid body couldn't be patient, he couldn't take the time to give Sam all the pleasure he deserves. He's an awful, selfish person who's already dying to get off again and Sam hasn't even had one orgasm. Bucky can't look at Sam, his eyes are shut tight as he's trying not to grab himself and jerk off wildly like an animal. He feels Sam's hands on his shoulders.

"Hey, breathe," Sam speaks gently and then he kisses Bucky's forehead. 

Bucky's eyes open. 

"I want to... you didn't even get to..." Bucky complains, motioning to Sam's erection and shaking his head because everything is wrong.

"Relax, we have plenty of time," Sam responds patiently.

Bucky shakes his head.

"I'm messed up, Sam. I didn't know it'd be like this. I can't wait, I can't... I.. don't know... how to..." Bucky stammers out way too hurriedly.

Sam shakes his hand, grabbing Bucky's face in his hands until the man shuts up.

"You're not messed up. Let me help you," Sam determines and then his hands slip down to Bucky's renewed throbbing cock.

Bucky whines instantly from the touch.

"Sam, what if it doesn't stop?" Bucky fearfully addresses.

"It will, relax. Let me get you off again, okay?" Sam shushes.

Bucky quiets as Sam begins stroking him. 

"I need it faster - please," Bucky whines and Sam listens, picking up the pace.

Bucky's eyes fall shut and it's not long before he's kneeling over Sam's shoulder, releasing vigorously into the man's hand. Bucky is working to catch his breath for a few minutes before he opens his eyes again. Sam is waiting patiently, caressing Bucky's thighs softly. Bucky hates himself, he does, but all he can do is make up for it. So, he leans in and kisses Sam. 

Sam seems to like that, humming happily as he returns the affection. Bucky pushes Sam back and then he's lowering himself to Sam's cock which definitely needs attention now. Bucky gets his mouth on him quick, trying to tease up the head with his tongue again, but Sam must need it now - Bucky can't imagine him being able to wait any longer. So, Bucky slides his mouth down to suck him. Strangled moans fall from Sam's mouth and Bucky worries it's going to spur him on all over again, but luckily Bucky's anatomy remains calm. His body must have finally exhausted itself. So, he can focus on Sam at last. When he feels Sam lose it, strain and claw into his hair before shooting hard down Bucky's throat, Bucky can truly relax. Finally content that Sam has relief. 

Bucky watches Sam calm from his high, petting Sam's face gently. When Sam opens his eyes, Bucky leans in and kisses Sam's temple, as a way of saying sorry. He hopes Sam gets the message, either way Sam smiles at the gesture. 

"You sure that was good?" Bucky questions him softly.

"I'm sure," Sam responds easily.

"I can do it again," Buck offers still feeling guilty.

"I need a little more time," Sam chuckles lightly.

"Okay... I'll do it better next time," Bucky promises.

"Hey, you did perfect," Sam assures him and run his hand down Bucky's face.

Bucky sits in quiet, looking away from Sam's confident eyes.

"What's going on up there?" Sam asks, playfully tapping Bucky's head.

It makes Bucky smile wearily.

"I like you, Sam," Bucky tell him.

"I like you too, Buck," Sam smiles.

"No, like you like me," Bucky clarifies.

"You sure? You don't say stuff like that just to be nice," Sam warns.

"I'm not being nice." 

"Okay, that makes me happy," Sam shares, smiling so warmly.

"I want you happy," Bucky says.

"I want me happy too," Sam snickers.

Bucky smiles at that before leaning over to kiss Sam's temple again. He likes doing that, he likes kissing Sam a lot.

"You make me happy and your family too... I hope that's okay," Bucky confesses.

"Of course it's okay, why wouldn't it be?" Sam returns.

"I'm not trying to finagle my way into your family," Bucky defends.

Sam smirks before managing to snuggle closer to Bucky. Bucky wraps his arms around Sam and holds him close, loving this position way more than he should be allowed.

"I'd let you finagle your way in," Sam comments.

"Really?" Bucky asks quietly.

"You're already in - in my mind," Sam replies.

Bucky stays quiet, too fixated with the idea that Sam already thinks of him as family. It sounds too good to be true, but he can't let this moment be ruined by anxiety and doubt. So, he only hugs Sam tighter and breathes in Sam's scent. He never wants to move.

The next morning is different.

Bucky hasn't woken up with a boner in years and the vigorous effect the serum is having on this part of his body is still a lot to take. Luckily, he wakes up next to Sam which may be one of the most glorious, calming sights Bucky can ever lay his eyes upon. He wants to wrap his arms around Sam and enjoy his warmth, his presence, but he peers under the covers at his aching arousal and it's not comfortable. He doesn't want to wake Sam especially when he knows how quickly the need will take over his brain and it'll feel more animalistic than anything. So, he figures he will sneak over to the bathroom and take care of this problem by himself. 

Unfortunately, just as he's turning over to slip out of the bed, Sam stirs next to him and wraps his arms around Bucky.

"Hey, morning," Sam greets in a raspy, sweet tone.

Bucky smiles up at him.

"Morning," Bucky clears his throat to say.

"How'd you sleep?" Sam asks as he bends down to place a kiss to Bucky's cheek.

Under normal circumstances, Bucky would like this moment a lot, want to stay curled up like this with Sam for as long as the other man would allow, but his body isn't in a normal state right now. It's getting worse by the minute actually.

"I slept... good, you?" Bucky manages to respond to Sam's question, also surprising himself when realizing this was his second peaceful sleep since Louisiana.

Bucky would like to take the time to appreciate that success, but again, his dick won't let him think about much else.

"I slept great," Sam breathes relaxed.

Bucky shifts under Sam's hold.

"Uh, normally I'd really like to just lie here with you... but um," Bucky begins uncomfortably.

He catches the frown on Sam's face and his heart sinks.

"It's... hard to just lie here right now," Bucky croaks out, glancing down and Sam seems to catch on right away.

"Oh, is it?" Sam grins as his hand slips under the covers and Bucky's knows where he's headed so he turns his body away.

"You don't have to. I can do it myself," Bucky protests.

Sam sighs very disappointed in this.

"Bucky, I want to," Sam emphasizes.

Bucky falls quiet. His hesitation is due to that fact that he's undoubtably drowning in need, making it vastly more difficult to argue especially when Sam slowly reaches again and finds Bucky's cock under his palm.

Bucky's eyes drop closed and he moans immediately. Bucky stupidly decides to explain himself through his haze.

"I'm... not used to... waking up like this," Bucky nearly pants as Sam wraps his hand around his cock fully.

"Like what?" Sam pries fondly.

"Hard... it's new," Bucky gasps when Sam's hand start moving.

"That's why I'm here, baby," Sam purrs in his ear.

Sam's sultry tone sends a line of sparks through Bucky, only amplifying everything more. He pushes his hips up into Sam's fist and Sam gets the hint to speed up. He's pumping Bucky fast, but still not fast enough. Bucky thrusts into his hand repeatedly until the pleasure crescendos, whiting Bucky's vision out and making him tremble through an orgasm. 

When Bucky comes to, Sam's kissing under Bucky's ear while drawing circles over his heaving chest. Bucky sighs through his irregular breaths.

"Please tell me you're hard," Bucky pleads, desperate to repay Sam. 

"I am," Sam sneers, pushing his groin against Bucky's ass so he can feel Sam's arousal.

Bucky's breath hitches from how much that turns him on, but he needs to focus on Sam. So, he turns swiftly to grab onto Sam and kisses him roughly. Sam moans into Bucky's mouth and Bucky doesn't start easy, his hand takes off like he would do to himself... at least, the one time he did it to himself.

"Slow, slow down," Sam pants suddenly. 

Bucky freezes completely.

"Oh... sorry," Bucky utters regretfully.

"I want to enjoy it, I don't need it so fast," Sam explains. 

Bucky nods, feeling his face flush embarrassed, but he listens and start stroking Sam very gently now.

Sam hums contently at the pace and Bucky can't imagine how he could enjoy such a slow pace, but whatever Sam wants he can have. So, Bucky keeps it slow, even adds his other hand to fondle Sam's sack and Sam seems to like that too. Bucky leans in and kisses Sam carefully, taking his time to brush his lips over Sam's and savor the sweetness.

"Okay, a little faster now," Sam instructs and Bucky picks up the pace ever so slightly. 

He twists his wrist under the head and that elicits a deep groan from Sam, so Bucky does it again. Sam's breathing begins to kick up and Bucky decides to speed up a little more, gripping a little tighter than before and Sam moans again. 

Bucky leans in to kiss Sam once more and Sam pants into his mouth, clearly close now. Bucky watches in amazement as Sam's body stills and he comes quietly. It's so different from his own experience. Maybe this is what it's like for normal people. He just hopes Sam's feeling as much blinding pleasure as he does. 

Sam goes back to his apartment before work. They meet at work an hour later.

Bucky's not sure if he's supposed to say something Joaquin. He feels funny knowing that Joaquin likes him and yet, just this morning him and Sam were orgasming in his bed. Maybe this is the type of thing you're supposed to tell people who have a crush on you? Bucky decides he'll ask Sam about it later. 

But when later comes, Bucky gets distracted when Sam presses up close and runs his hands down Bucky's arms, making a tingle dance over his skin.

"Hey, you wanna come over?" Sam invites.

Bucky falters, he would love that more than anything, but he's been struggling with last night and even this morning. He's definitely doing this whole sex thing wrong, he's either freaking out or going too fast or coming too hard. Sam must think he's a freak. 

"Are you sure you still like me?" Bucky questions him.

"I'm sure," Sam responds confidently.

Sam doesn't ask why, but Bucky feels the need to explain anyway.

"I know I freaked out a lot last night," Bucky expands.

"That's okay."

Sam's hands are still running up and down Bucky's arms, keeping him calm.

"And this morning..." Bucky begins.

"Was great," Sam finishes for him, but it doesn't ease Bucky's worry as much as it should.

"It's only cause I hadn't - I guess there are more side effects to the serum than I knew about," Bucky admits shyly.

"That's understandable," Sam expresses nicely.

"I want next time to be more normal for you," Bucky pushes.

"I don't care about normal, I care about you," Sam argues affectionately.

"I won't freak out next time," Bucky insists anyway.

Sam pauses and gives Bucky a stern look.

"Do you even hear me when I talk?" Sam tests.

"Yeah, but -" Bucky battles.

"Just shut up and kiss me," Sam demands.

That's an easy enough instruction to follow, so Bucky obliges happily. Kissing Sam gets better and better every time Bucky gets the chance. 

Chapter Text

Bucky goes home to feed Alpine and then heads over to Sam's apartment.

Sam opens the door smiling ear to ear. Bucky smiles in response as Sam grabs a fistful of his coat, tugs him inside and kisses him deeply. Bucky's falls into the kiss, letting all his muscles relax with the familiar sensation of Sam's perfect mouth on his. Sam draws back.

"You hungry?" Sam asks.

"Um..." Bucky stammers because with that kiss and the promise of what will happen tonight, Bucky's body is already thrumming with way too much heat. 

"Unless you want to eat after?" Sam grins wide, reading Bucky's mind.

"Are you hungry?" Bucky checks.

Sam shakes his head, closing the space between them again.

"I have a secret for you," Sam whispers and the low tone vibrates across Bucky's skin.

"What?"

"I've been preparing since I got home. I have a plug in my ass," Sam shares.

"Wh-what?" Bucky stutters lamely in response.

"Do you know what that is?" 

"A sex thing, right?" Bucky's eyebrows knit together with his guess.

Sam nods, letting his hands glide over Bucky's chest.

"It's so I can open myself up for you, baby," Sam growls.

"Fuck, Sam... you can't talk like that," Bucky's eyes flutter shut.

"Why not?" Sam asks teasingly, his hands continuing to travel everywhere.

"I'm..." Bucky starts, but his mind's already fuzzy.

"Getting hard? Looks like it's a little too late," Sam notes, his palm gliding down the bulge already forming in Bucky's pants.

Bucky inhales sharply.

"Just how I want you," Sam hums appreciatively.

"Fuck," Bucky utters under his breath. He's already losing control, this is way faster than he intended. 

"Let's go to the bedroom," Sam says, leaning in to kiss him quick.

Bucky opens his eyes as Sam is leading him to the bedroom. Sam guides Bucky to the bed and has him lie down on his back. Then, Sam is undressing Bucky, one article of clothing at a time. Bucky can barely keep his breathing steady, the anticipation eating him alive.

Next thing Bucky knows, Sam is kissing his way down Bucky's body and its perfect - fuck, it would be perfect if Bucky wasn't burning from the inside out. He grabs the pillow behind him and shoves it over his face trying to resist the carnal urge to get off right this second.

Bucky wants so badly to take his time with Sam. He wants to enjoy everything Sam is willing to offer him and it's killing Bucky that he can't. Bucky presses the pillow so tightly down on his face that he can barely breathe, but struggling for air is kinda helping his situation. He focuses on surviving for a second over the unbearable erection in between his legs. That is, until Sam notices and Bucky feels the kissing stop.

"Um, what are you doing?" Sam questions.

Bucky lifts the pillow off his face, taking in a huge gasp of air the second he's free. His face is hot, not just from the cotton smothering it, but also from the embarrassment flushing his body.

"I'm... trying to go slow for you," Bucky admits.

Sam shakes his head, a light smile curving upward from his mouth.

"Don't suffocate yourself, I'd really like to feel you inside me first," Sam gruffs.

Bucky can only groan at that, the arousal taking full form again.

"I'm not gonna last," Bucky huffs disappointedly.

"I know," Sam comments simply as he angles his body to pull the plug out.

Bucky watches and a blazing heat singes through him when Sam whimpers a little in the process.

Sam leans over to place the plug on the nightstand and swap the item with a bottle of lube in his hand. He opens the cap and freely pours the gel over Bucky's cock. Bucky shudders at the contrast in temperature. Sam smoothes the lube down his shaft and Bucky squirms under him.

"Hold still, baby, I'm gonna take care of you. I know how long it's been for you," Sam coos.

Sam's tone drenched in affection is making Bucky's brain melt into a hazy puddle. Sam straddles Bucky's properly and Bucky's clenching his fists into the fabric underneath him. He wants to last so badly for Sam, but he knows that's a losing battle.

Bucky watches Sam reach behind himself to grab Bucky's cock and guide to his hole. Then, Sam's pushing him inside. Bucky's shaking as Sam's slowly lowering himself down, letting Bucky's cock stretch him inch by inch. Sam feels hot and tight around him. Bucky heaves in a breath when Sam sits down fully, taking in all of him. It feels too unbelievably good, there's no way Bucky is lasting at all.

"Sam..." Bucky husks, letting his eyes fall closed.

Sam doesn't answer and when Bucky open his eyes again, Sam is using his thighs to lift himself back up, off Bucky’s cock before he impales himself back onto the man’s cock in one heavy motion. Bucky moans loudly, melting in relief from the tight friction. He's using all the will power he has to stay still. Sam repeats the motion, letting his hips lift and drop all the way down to incite a carefully timed, wave of pleasure to ripple through Bucky. The next time Sam lifts up again, he wavers midway to bounce into a steady rhythm and that's all it takes for Bucky to completely unravel.

The orgasm nearly knocks Bucky out like it typically does. When Bucky opens his eyes, Sam's staring down at him fondly. Bucky thought he'd have some time for the next round, usually needs at least a little time to work up to a second erection. To be fair, that's how it happened the last time him and Sam did anything and that's the only thing Bucky can compare this to. This time is different though, he's still inside Sam and he can feel his hard-on has barely gone down at all. The need is already back, revving through his veins like he didn't just have a mind-blowing orgasm. Sam can obviously feel it.

"That's not gonna be enough, is it?" Sam teases, sinfully grinning.

Bucky inhales a shaky breath. His hands grips onto Sam's hips, his fingers digging in slightly.

"Please, can I?" Bucky hears himself beg and how desperate his voice sounds would make him cringe if his mind wasn't completely submerged in an erotic haze.

"Yes," Sam allows.

Bucky lifts his hips, pressing his cock further inside Sam and wow, it's so incredible. He needs it, but has to control himself... he needs to take it easy for Sam. His eyes fall shut again and he's trying to focus.

"Just a little more," Bucky gruffs as if he's preparing Sam.

The little control Bucky has left quickly dwindles and he moans with the next thrust up. Then, Bucky's hips take off on their own accord, fucking into Sam in hard, short spurts. Sam groans loudly. Bucky doesn't slow down, he can't now. He hopes it's not too fast, not too hard, but the pleasure is taking over his body masking all his senses, all his control. 

"Fuck, fuck," Bucky pants before his hips thrust up even faster, railing into Sam at an unfair speed.

Sam stumbles forward, his hands catch on Bucky's chest for balance, but his hips aren't going anyway because Bucky still has a firm grip on them and he's still fucking him. A gutteral groan erupts from Bucky when he comes again, his body lifting up from the mattress in his release before he collapses back down.

The shame washes over Bucky fast, before he can even catch his breath. He couldn't control himself, he was too rough. Bucky sits up in an instant and runs his hands down Sam's heaving body. Sam came too, a wet mess is splattered over Bucky's chest that Bucky can't even recall from the heat of the moment.

"You okay? That too much?" Bucky frets feeling Sam everywhere, hoping he isn't in pain.

"Not too much," Sam manages breathlessly.

"Did I hurt you?" 

"No," Sam confirms, which allows Bucky to breathe a little easier.

Sam's displaying a lopsided smile now which surprises Bucky.

"You sure you liked that?" Buck questions.

"You have no idea how much I liked that," Sam huffs.

"Really?" 

Sam leans down and kisses Bucky, panting over his mouth when he draws back. 

Bucky smiles, letting his hands slide up Sam's sides and kisses him again.

"Next time, you can do that to me," Bucky offers.

"Yeah? You want to?" 

"Yeah," Bucky replies quickly.

"You sure you're ready for that?" Sam checks.

"I'm ready for anything," Bucky assures him and it's true. Anything that would please Sam, Bucky would do even if it involved any amount of pain, Bucky would endure it for Sam.

They cuddle for a while before Sam's stomach growls and he suggests they finally get to that dinner. Sam cooks for Bucky in nothing, but his underwear and an apron. Bucky is somewhere else this evening. In this euphoric, amazing place he can hardly describe. His body is calm and satisfied and his heart feels so full. He's just happy, he's not acting like himself. He even laughs loudly when Sam flips a carrot stick up and misses horribly trying to catch it in his mouth. Sam grins, embarrassed, and then leans close to tell Bucky to shut up before pulling him into a passionate kiss.

Bucky can't possibly deserve this, but he's certainly not going to give it up if he doesn't have to. No, Bucky's not going anywhere, not when he has Sam singing old show tunes, teasing him about his actual age while flipping burgers on the stove. God, Bucky would never leave this.

Sam's too perfect, he's too perfect. Bucky lets the back of his fingers pet down Sam's face as he admires the man in his sleep.

This morning, Bucky was able to sneak out of bed early enough to take care of his expected problem. So now, Bucky can take all the time he wants to snuggle close to Sam's body, soaking up the heat radiating off him and placing gentle kisses into his smooth skin. Bucky loves this, so much, he can't believe Sam wants him. Especially when Bucky is a blubbering, horny mess half the time. Bucky can't believe Sam could still want him after seeing him like that and yet he does.

Really, if Bucky's being honest, this is what he enjoys most. Just being curled up with Sam, feeling more than content that Sam is right next to him, safe and warm. He likes this more than the sex and that's saying a lot with how intense his orgasms are since that body part started working again.

Sam begins to stir, lazily turning his head to smile up at the other man. Bucky smiles back before leaning down to kiss Sam's sleepy lips.

"Morning," Sam rasps.

"Morning."

"How did you sleep?" Sam asks.

Bucky smiles pleasantly, he had another peaceful sleep last night.

"Perfect," Bucky breathes and drops his head to kiss Sam again. Bucky's thrilled he can be calm like this and take his time, just like he wanted.

"Me too," Sam beams and then lifts his head up to capture Bucky's lips in another kiss. Bucky slides his arm under Sam to roll the other man towards him. Sam chuckles as he delves into a long kiss. 

"Mhm, love waking up like this," Sam breathes over Bucky's mouth.

"Me too," Bucky concurs before he deepens the kiss.

Sam notices and makes a noise of agreement as his hand snakes in between them. Sam's hand stops above Bucky's shorts because Bucky's not hard for once. Sam pulls back.

"Did you jerk off?" Sam questions puzzled.

"Yeah," Bucky supplies proudly, but Sam frowns.

"Why would you do that?"

Bucky matches his frown, he wasn't expecting Sam to be unhappy about this.

"So, we can take our time like normal people," Bucky defends.

Sam rolls his eyes at him which truly throws Bucky off. How could he have messed this up?

"I don't care about being normal, I told you that," Sam rebukes.

"Yeah but... it's not fair. I want us to be able to make out for hours. We should be able to do stuff like that, but we can't - cause of me," Bucky complains.

"Buck, that's really sweet, but it doesn't bother me. How ever long you can go is good for me, I just want to be with you," Sam fights.

Bucky sighs.

"You make everything sound nice, but it's still not fair," Bucky argues.

Sam lets out a tired sigh and sits up. Bucky follows.

"Well, you already got off so what do you wanna do? You wanna make out for hours, right now?" Sam poses.

Bucky shrugs nonchalantly, but he's excited by the idea becoming a real possibility.

"Okay, maybe, if you want," Bucky acts casual about it.

"Okay, sure baby," Sam accepts and the pet name runs a tickle down the back of Bucky's neck, but his body remains calm. He leans back into Sam's lips and they start making out.

They keep kissing just like Bucky's wants, keeping their hands above the waist. It's maybe been ten minutes when Bucky draws back.

"What?" Sam smiles sneakily like he knows something.

"Nothing, are you enjoying this?" Bucky asks.

"Yeah, are you?" 

"Yeah, of course," Bucky says.

"Then, why'd you stop?" Sam challenges.

"Just checking," Bucky covers and leans back in. They keep kissing.

The truth is, Bucky is feeling a bit antsy. He thought he could sit and kiss Sam forever especially with his body lax, but he clearly didn't think this through. Regardless, of his body not pulsing with need, he still wants to touch Sam... all over, but he said only making out. He feels constricted by this.

Another five minutes later, Bucky pulls back again.

"You're thinking about touching me, aren't you," Sam predicts.

"Yeah," Bucky sighs.

"So, touch me," Sam goads.

"But then I'll... want to do other stuff," Bucky reasons.

"And the problem with that is?" 

"We were just supposed to make out," Bucky murmurs feeling a little foolish suddenly.

"Buck, nothing is ever perfect. It's okay if you don't want to just suck each others faces for five hours."

"Well, it's weird when you put it like that," Bucky's face scrunches.

Sam laughs and nudges him with an elbow.

"Come on, baby, I want you to touch me," Sam provokes.

Bucky smiles.

"Okay, but can we at least acknowledge that we could have made out for hours," Bucky presses, his pride hurting a bit.

"Yes, we could have, but we're choosing to be nasty instead," Sam announces, grinning wide.

Bucky grins back before he leans back in, his hands finding the hem of Sam's shirt and pulling it off. Bucky pulls Sam close to taste his neck and Sam hums by his ear. Bucky works the rest of Sam's clothes off and he touches him everywhere. Finally being able to take his time, feeling every inch of Sam and watch every spot that makes Sam's breath hitch. Bucky moves slow, kissing and touching Sam, then eventually he's blowing Sam until the man comes down his throat. 

Bucky has Sam cradled in his arms. Sam's breathing hotly over his chest. Bucky's very happy with how this morning played out, especially since his body never took over. It was all about Sam for once.

"I like it being about you," Bucky notes aloud.

"What do you mean?" Sam asks, picking his head up to meet Bucky's eyes.

"I get kinda lost in everything when I'm... you know. Everything's so intense. I hope it feels as good for you," Bucky expresses nervously. 

"Of course it does," Sam confirms.

"Okay, good."

"You thought it didn't?" Sam tests.

"I didn't know, I don't like that I can't really focus on you."

Sam smiles, cupping Bucky's face in his hand.

"And you focused this time?"

Bucky nods.

"I got to see how you reacted to everything I did," Bucky shares.

"And how did I react?" Sam pushes playfully.

"You liked it," Bucky sneers smug for once.

"Yeah, I definitely did," Sam agrees, pressing a kiss to Bucky's jaw. "But I don't want you getting off because you think you're saving me work or something. I like seeing how good I make you feel too."

Bucky blinks at Sam, that thought never occurring to him.

"Okay, I won't," Bucky agrees. 

"Good, we better get ready for work." Sam smiles and kisses him one last time before hopping out of bed.

Today at training, Joaquin is learning how to use the wings. So, Sam and Bucky are watching and working with Joaquin together. When they end for the day, Sam is helping get the wings off Joaquin's back when Bucky decides to lend Joaquin another simple compliment. Or at least, Bucky thought it was a simple enough acclamation.

"Looked good out there," Bucky states plainly to Joaquin.

Joaquin mouth parts and he looks instantly flustered. Bucky grows tense, did he say something wrong?

"Yeah? You always look good," Joaquin returns with a crooked smile. 

Bucky's eyes snap up at Sam, he loses any ability to respond. Sam is smiling.

"Damn right," Sam quips.

Both Bucky and Joaquin flash Sam wide-eyed expressions.

"Oh, so I'm the only one not allowed to flirt?" Sam argues kiddingly.

"Bucky never flirts," Joaquin plays right back.

"He doesn't know how," Sam counters easily.

Bucky's face drops at that. He doesn't know how to flirt? Maybe he should learn... for Sam... if he wants. Joaquin's laugh at Sam's jab knocks Bucky out of his thoughts.

Joaquin takes off after the wings are put away, waving goodbye to the pair. Sam wastes no time in moving right into Bucky's space the second they're alone. Sam wraps his arms around a tense Bucky and leaves a small peck on his lips. 

"Why are you freaking out?" Sam senses right away.

"I'm not," Bucky claims.

"You are, tell me," Sam encourages gently.

Bucky sighs. 

"We haven't told Joaquin... about us. Shouldn't we? I mean, he shouldn't be flirting with me anymore. You're okay with that?" Bucky lets the words spill out.

Sam smirks at Bucky's anguish.

"We can tell him, eventually, but I don't care if he flirts with you. It's cute," Sam replies.

"Cute?" Bucky squawks.

"Yeah, it's harmless Buck," Sam laughs. 

Bucky eyes Sam suspiciously, taking this possibility in.

"What else?" Sam pushes.

Bucky sighs, never understanding how easy it is for Sam to read him.

"Nothing," Bucky refuses because he's embarrassed about his lack of this everyday skill.

"You either tell me or I'm gonna have to kiss it out of you," Sam threatens.

Bucky flashes him an incredulous look. Sam follows through and starts peppering quick, little kisses all over Bucky's face until Bucky snickers and lazily attempts to dodge this dream of an attack. 

"Okay, okay," Bucky folds.

Sam breaks the incessant kissing. Bucky inhales a slow breath.

"I was thinking, maybe I should learn about... that flirting thing," Bucky admits sheepishly.

Sam's mouth breaks into a grin too wide for his face.

"You want to flirt - with who?" Sam teases, but Bucky only panics.

"You!" Bucky stresses quickly.

"I know," Sam chuckles. "But it's not like it's a requirement, don't worry about it."

Bucky merely nods, hoping Sam actually means that. Maybe he'll google it later and surprise Sam anyway.

Chapter Text

Sam tells Bucky to meet him at his apartment. Bucky spends a good ten minutes on the internet before leaving his place. When he gets to Sam's apartment, Sam grabs him by his coat and pulls him into a searing kiss just like last time. 

"Hey," Sam greets.

Bucky bites his lip and steps back, Sam's hand falling off him like Bucky needs to deliver his prepared line.

"Hey, feel my shirt," Bucky prompts, holding the fabric out for Sam.

Sam cocks an eyebrow at this, but obliges and smoothes his hand down the shirt.

"Feels nice," Sam lends, confusion etching into his features.

"You know what the material is?" Bucky follows up.

"Um, cotton?" Sam guesses which is actually correct, but Bucky ignores that fact. 

"No, boyfriend material," Bucky beams proudly for remembering the line.

Sam snorts a laugh.

"Did I not say it right?" Bucky frowns.

"Did you google pick-up lines?" Sam accuses.

"Yeah, are you mad?"

"No, you're ridiculous," Sam laughs loudly again.

"I wanted to flirt with you," Bucky explains.

"I told you, you don't have to."

"But I want to at least know how," Bucky grimaces.

Sam smiles tenderly at this revelation. He shifts closer to press up against Bucky, the move already turning on many gears inside Bucky.

"You don't have to look up one-liners, just say what you're thinking," Sam divulges.

"Like what?" 

"Like what you want to do to me," Sam supplies, grinning wickedly.

Bucky's eyebrows raise high.

"Dirty stuff?" 

Sam nods, trailing his hands down Bucky's chest until they fall to the waistband of his jeans.

"Like... I like these pants, but I think they'd look better with me in them," Sam growls.

"You just thought of that?" Bucky acclaims, very impressed.

Sam tugs at the button of Bucky's pants, pulling them open.

"I'm a man of many talents, Buck. Now, take these off," Sam instructs as he lets his hands drop to allow Bucky to finish the task.

Bucky kicks his pants off in a hurry, then decides to also shrug out of his coat and haul his shirt over his head while he's at it. He stands in his underwear already sporting a decent sized boner when Sam studies him with a delighted smile.

"Eager," Sam observes delighted.

Bucky pulls the man into a heated kiss to prove how eager he is. Sam accepts this enthusiastically, sliding his hands down Bucky's ass while return the kiss. He breaks from the kiss and looks at Bucky, serious for a moment.

"Listen, you sure you want to switch tonight? You can fuck me again," Sam says.

"I'm sure."

"Okay, we'll take our time," Sam notes before weaving his hand into Bucky's and guiding him to the bedroom. Bucky swallows nervously at that. Sam should remember the last thing Bucky can do is take his time in these situations, but he trusts Sam. They will make this work... hopefully.

It doesn't take long for Bucky to be lying on the bed naked with a naked Sam in between his spread legs. Sam touches his tongue to Bucky's hole and it feels different than he expected, it sends a shiver up his back. Sam keeps going, a lubed finger traces the rim. Bucky shudders a breath.

"Still okay?" Sam checks.

"Yeah."

Sam pushes his finger further in and it's tight, his body tenses for a moment. It's not bad. Sam keeps going and Bucky's real problem is, he's been miserably hard since they started. This is already longer than Bucky usually lasts and the only reason for that is Sam hasn't touched his cock yet. He wants to let Sam do this his way, Sam said they needed to take their time and he's been asking Bucky over and over if everything he's doing is okay. Even though Bucky keeps saying yes, he wants to tell him how much his dick is burning. Pulsing so much he thinks it might explode if he doesn't grab it and jerk it so hard, he'd probably see stars. Bucky holds back, but it feels like actual torture... and Bucky's very familiar with suffering.

Sam fits a second finger in, but Bucky can barely pay attention to how that feels when his cock twitches angrily, begging for attention.

"How's that?" Sam asks.

Bucky slams his eyes shut, he can't take it anymore.

"Can't take it this slow, Sam," Bucky croaks.

"We can't rush this," Sam answers.

"Sam please, it hurts," Bucky whines embarrassingly. 

Sam keeps his fingers inside Bucky, but moves his other hand to grab Bucky's cock. Bucky's body jolts up the moment he finally gets the touch he needs. Sam strokes him roughly, not starting slow like he normally does, but Bucky's thankful for it. Bucky's back arches and it's only seconds before he groans roughly and releases onto his stomach. Bucky huffs out sharp breaths, relief washing over him even though he's still half hard and it's not enough. 

"There, now we have more time," Sam bites back a smile.

Then, he carefully adds a third finger in and pumps the digits in and out of Bucky. Sam's fingers curl in and Bucky tenses until they press into something that sends a startling charge of pleasure through him. 

"Fuck, what's that?" Bucky blurts out, his thighs spasm for a second.

"Feel good?" Sam grins and presses down once more on that same spot making it spark through Bucky again.

"So good, shit - I... harder, Sam," Bucky pleads as his mind blanks and his body trembles through the new wave. Sam begins pressing down on the same spot repeatedly, sparks shoot up Bucky's spine. Bucky arches up, chasing another sweet release. He's so close just from this, Sam isn't even touching his cock anymore, he's going to lose it any moment, but Sam slides his fingers out taking all the hot electricity with them. Bucky jerks forward, his body aching for it back.

"Gonna fuck you, baby," Sam explains simply.

Bucky waits as Sam slicks up his own cock with lube. He pumps himself a few times and Bucky's cock twitches from the sight, he needs so badly to get off again, but he's taking his time for Sam. He can do this.

Sam lines up and Bucky sucks in a breath of anticipation.

"You ready?" Sam asks.

Bucky nods fervently. Sam's smile wavers as he focuses below. Bucky tries to steady his breathing as he feels Sam's thickness pushing in, stretching him wide. It almost feels like too much, teetering on painful, until Sam bottoms out and hits into that same spot as before. Bucky shudders from the new ripple of pleasure. Sam's fingers trickle down Bucky's throbbing cock and Bucky moans.

"Please," Bucky hears himself whisper, but Sam doesn't grab him like he did before. Instead, he begins rolling his hips, rocking into Bucky at a timed pace. It's a lot of pressure, almost too much, too tight, but then Sam hits that spot again and the sparks of pleasure surpass any discomfort. Bucky's moaning louder.

Sam picks up his pace, grinding in him faster. Then Sam pauses to adjust. He pushes the bottom of Bucky's thighs up, angling himself slightly different and Bucky wants to beg him to touch his cock, but he's taking this slow for Sam. He'll do this right. Bucky's eyes squeeze shut, a burning need blaring behind them, making his head pound and his whole body tight.

Sam pushes back in and now he hits that spot not just once, but every time.

"Ohh," Bucky hears the stutter falls from his lips. Sam keeps a steady motion, hitting that spot over and over. Bucky's gasps for his breath, the pleasure overwhelmingly punching into him over and over. It's too much, Bucky pushes back, arches up, his body doesn't know where to go, but Sam's hand wraps around his cock and then Bucky completely loses it. He's howling loud as Sam drags out a second orgasm that hits so hard it almost hurts.

Bucky's heaving for air when he can recognize that Sam has stilled his motions. He's lightly stroking Bucky, waiting for him to calm more. Bucky looks at Sam wide eyed, still overcome with how much his body is pulsing from the after shocks. Sam lifts his hand to cup Bucky's chin, kissing him slowly and it allows Bucky to finally settle. He feels his weight against the bed again, no longer floating.

"How was that?" Sam asks, hovering close.

"Can't... speak," Bucky mumbles out.

Sam smiles wide.

"A good can't speak, right?" Sam makes sure.

Bucky nods for a long while before he manages another response.

"Good good," Bucky confirms.

Sam kisses him again and slides himself out. Bucky cringes from how sensitive every inch of him feels. Sam leans his body over the other man and Bucky can feel how hard Sam is on his stomach.

"You," Bucky huffs out as he reaches in between them to touch Sam. 

Sam's eyes close as he pushes up, allowing Bucky more space to wrap his hand fully around him and pump steadily. Bucky goes at an easy pace, remembering not too fast. Sam hums contently. Bucky pauses to wet his hand, enclosing it back around Sam before stroking him faster. Sam groans and leans forward to press his forehead against Bucky's.

Bucky brushes his lips over Sam's, then pulls his bottom lip down with his mouth. Sam's inhales sharply. Bucky grips him tight, pumping hard right under the head until Sam's lips quiver and he comes.

Bucky's body feels impossibly relaxed, he can hardly move, but luckily he doesn't need to as Sam has him wrapped in a blanket of perfect Sam Wilson body heat. Bucky keeps his ear pressed against Sam's chest so he can hear Sam's heart beat and it's lulling him into sleep.

"You asleep?" Sam whispers softly.

Bucky shakes his head no. His head bobs as Sam's chest vibrates from a light chuckle.

"Might need food soon," Sam notes.

Bucky only hums in response. 

"Want you to eat too," Sam says as his fingers thread through Bucky's hair.

The hoods of Bucky's eyes weigh down heavier with a lovely tranquility. He doesn't move. 

"Can't let my boyfriend wither away," Sam jokes lightly.

Bucky peers up at him.

"Boyfriend?" 

"Didn't you wear your boyfriend material shirt?" Sam snickers.

A warm, fuzzy feeling flows through Bucky's chest. Sam is his boyfriend? That sounds too amazing to be true.

"It's a nice shirt," Bucky plays back. Sams laughs lightly again.

Bucky sits smiling. He presses a kiss into Sam's chest right over his heart. He shouldn't be allowed this much joy.

Bucky is taking his boyfriend out to a proper dinner tonight. He's downright giddy. He adjusts his suit jacket in the mirror. Bucky hasn't worn formal wear in a long time. He smiles proudly, knowing he bought this suit for this night, for Sam. 

He picks Sam up at his place and when Sam opens the door wearing a dark blue suit, Bucky stops and stares for a moment.

"What?" Sam smirks widely at Bucky's ogling.

"Ready to go?" Bucky blinks, shaking himself out of it.

"Seriously, you're not gonna tell me how good I look?" Sam prompts.

Bucky swallows, regret hits him fast.

"I... sorry, you look so good," Bucky quickly says.

Sam shakes his head, smiling, but Bucky wants to strangle himself. How could he mess that up? He should have googled proper picking your hot date up etiquette.

Sam grabs his keys and steps into the hall to lock the door, but Bucky's still reeling with irritation at himself. Sam notices, of course.

"Stop beating yourself up," Sam quips.

"I should have known that," Bucky mutters more to himself, but unfortunately Sam hears it.

"Known what? You did nothing wrong!" Sam battles and then he slips his hand into Bucky's as they start down the hall. Bucky glances down at Sam's hand in his, he doesn't deserve to hold this perfect man's hand when he couldn't even lend a simple compliment.

Bucky stares forward, Sam shakes his hand in his.

"You're not gonna be silently brooding all night, are you?" Sam accuses.

Bucky gulps, meeting Sam's eyes.

"You look really good," Bucky repeats.

Sam smiles.

"Thank you, so do you."

Dinner is going well, how can it not when Bucky has Sam to look at all evening. They're talking about the same things they always talk about. Sometimes, it feels funny that their relationship seems exactly the same except they've sprinkled in some orgasms, a whole lot of kissing and a handful of cuddling. Bucky sits amused at this thought and Sam notices his outstretched smile.

"Why you smiling so big?" Sam smirks.

"Just... happy," Bucky shrugs and Sam's mouth curves wider.

"So, I wanted to talk to you about Christmas," Sam changes the topic. "Was hoping you'd come down to Louisiana again."

Bucky's heart swarms with the idea of spending another holiday with the Wilson family. This time, since Sam is his boyfriend, Bucky doesn't struggle to answer. He accepts promptly and Sam gleams happily. 

A desire to thank Sam washes over Bucky again. He's so grateful, but for some reason those words still feel hard. Even now, that Sam has accepted him this much, made him feel so wonderful in so many ways and Bucky still finds it difficult to thank him.

Bucky recalls Thanksgiving and the dreadful moment he couldn't express his gratitude to the family. Now, he's returning for a second holiday and he should be able to say the damn words to his boyfriend. He forces himself to say something.

"I don't say thank you enough," Bucky manages instead of the actual words 'thank you'.

"That's okay," Sam dismisses.

"I want to - all the time," Bucky shares with him.

"I know," Sam smiles warmly.

"Okay... thanks," Bucky manages quietly, a hint of pride sneaking it's way in at the minor thanks.

Sam shakes his head, a smile sweeping across his face.

"I love you," Sam murmurs through his smile.

Bucky freezes and Sam realizes in the next second, his eyes go wide.

"Shit, that was too soon," Sam frets, panic painting his face.

"Um, I..." Bucky stammers for a response. He should respond, he should definitely respond.

"Please don't say anything, I... think about it. Don't say anything, if you aren't sure," Sam urges.

As happy as Sam makes Bucky, he hasn't thought about love. The word alone sounds heavy and scary in his mind. It seems too far-fetched and the shock alone keeps Bucky quiet.

The next morning, Bucky wakes up alone in bed. He hears Sam's voice trail in from the other room. Sam must be on the phone.

It really can't be Bucky's fault at this point, Sam has to remember about his enhanced hearing at some point. He can't do anything about the ease-dropping. Even so, Bucky feels guilty just the same as he overhears Sam's end of the conversation.

"I know, I'm an idiot. Yes, obviously I didn't mean to - it just slipped! Yeah, I'm sure he did freak out. I didn't let him say anything. I told him to think about. God... I know... okay, talk to you later, bye."

The air falls quiet again. Bucky hears Sam walking back to the bedroom and wonders if he should pretend to be asleep, but his eyes mistakingly stay wide open as Sam opens the door.

"Hey," Sam smiles at him.

"Hey."

"So, I was thinking we could..." Sam begins, but Bucky has to interrupt.

"You're not an idiot, Sam," Bucky spits out.

Sam lets out a small breath as he connects how Bucky overheard.

"It's not my fault, you know about my ears," Bucky defends, blushing.

"Yeah, I do," Sam smirks, bobbing his head.

Sam steps over to the bed and sits on the edge. Bucky is able to sit up and reach across to grab his hand. Sam smiles at the gesture, lacing his fingers with Bucky's.

"I want to say it," Bucky tells him.

"But don't... unless you know for sure," Sam reminds him.

"I know, but I want you to know that I want to. I just... don't remember how it feels," Bucky confesses.

"Love?" Sam clarifies, frowning a bit.

Bucky nods. Sam pats Bucky's hand with his.

"Well, it's different for everyone, but it will feel right. I think you'll know and if you don't feel it... with me, it's okay," Sam expresses.

"I can't imagine it being anyone else," Bucky ponders puzzled.

Sam huffs out a laugh.

"But it might not be me either. Maybe it just happens that way," Sam lends and that makes Bucky's chest clench harshly.

The idea of not loving Sam back, not giving him everything he wants sounds so dreadful, Bucky doesn't want to even imagine it. He wishes he knew what falling in love was supposed to feel like so he could say it back already. But he wants to mean it, wants to be sure like Sam said. So, he only nods. Sam lifts Bucky's hand and kisses it. 

Chapter Text

Christmas comes faster than Bucky expects. December flies by because he has Sam.

Bucky forgot what a relationship feels like. His favorite part is how safe he feels. Not because Sam is necessarily stronger than him, actually he's not due to the serum, but because Sam accepts and loves him. Bucky still can't get over the fact that Sam loves him. Unfortunately, regardless of how happy the fact makes him, he's still struggling to know for sure if he loves Sam back. It becomes basically the only topic he discusses with his therapist these days.

"So, Sam makes you feel happy and safe, but you don't think that is love?" Nina asks him during one of their sessions.

"A lot of things can make me happy," Bucky retorts.

"If I asked you to name the things you love, what things would you list?" Nina prompts.

"Uh, coffee," Bucky states first.

Nina nods, clearly waiting for more.

"And um, sweaters," Bucky finds a second thing.

"What about Alpine?" Nina tests.

"Of course I love Alpine, I thought you meant physical items," Bucky defends, hurriedly petting the feline in his lap in case she heard.

"It can be anything," Nina explains. 

Bucky ponders this, apparently for too long because Nina supplies a new question instead.

"What scares you about being in love Sam?" she poses.

"That I might be wrong and then I'd hurt him."

Sam and Bucky are packing the night before their trip to Louisiana when Sam walks into the bedroom with a wrapped gift. He puts it on the bed next to Bucky.

"Hey, I want you to open your Christmas gift early," Sam probes.

Bucky looks down at the box and sighs.

"Don't mope, I know you got me a gift too. I saw your pile of gifts," Sam warns.

"Fine," Bucky folds and begins unwrapping the gift. He opens the box and recognizes the set of sweats he borrowed from Sam on their first trip.

"These are yours," Bucky responds confused.

"Yeah, I know you hate when I spend money on you. I thought maybe you'd want mine... to keep?" Sam expresses timidly.

It's not like Sam to sound so nervous. Bucky meets his eyes.

"I'm not trying to be cheap, you know I'd buy you anything," Sam defends quickly.

Sam's rare display of fret makes Bucky smile way too wide.

"I love it, thank you," Bucky assures him and pulls him into a large hug.

"Oh good," Sam murmurs into his shoulder. 

"Guess I should give you my gift now," Bucky decides as he pulls back from the embrace.

Bucky finds Sam's gift and hands him the wrapped box. Sam smiles and opens the box to find a newly purchased sweater. Sam grins up at Bucky.

"I already wanted to get you a sweater," Bucky smiles guilty.

"I love it," Sam beams and pulls Bucky close for a kiss this time. 

"You should probably know, I got the same one for Sarah, AJ, Cass and Joaquin," Bucky admits uneasily. 

Sam snorts a laugh.

"You do know there are gifts other than sweaters you can give people, right?" Sam tests.

"Should I return them?" Bucky frets, turning towards his pile of matching gifts.

Sam tugs on his shirt collar, turning him back.

"No, they're going to love them," Sam says.

"You sure?" 

"I'm positive," Sam assures him. "It's the year of sweaters!"

Bucky laughs and then kisses Sam happily.

On the plane, Bucky's mind starts worrying again. Sam notices right away because he's Sam and apparently Bucky can't hide a single, damn emotion from this man.

"Spill it," Sam probes teasingly, rubbing his hand over Bucky's knee.

"Do you want to tell your family?" Bucky opens up.

"Tell them what?"

"About us?"

Sam smiles slowly.

"Sarah already knows," Sam responds warmly.

"She does?" Bucky asks surprised.

"She knew I liked you before I did."

"How?" Bucky questions.

"She knows everything. You're not gonna be able to hide anything from Sarah Wilson," Sam declares.

"What would I hide from her?" Bucky ponders aloud.

"Nothing," Sam smirks.

Bucky's eye flash back down.

"Do they know about... what I've done?" Bucky asks quietly. 

Bucky can still catch the frown that appears on Sam's face even though his eyes are looking elsewhere.

"Sarah knows, the boys only know you used to be called the Winter Soldier, but that doesn't matter, Buck. That's not you anymore," Sam presses and then pushes Bucky's shoulder back until he meets his gaze again. 

"What if they find out the truth?" Bucky battles.

Sam sighs tiredly which hurts Bucky's heart. He doesn't want to argue with Sam.

"They won't, but if they do one day... they'd understand it was never your fault. They know the real you Buck and they love you," Sam says.

"They love me?" Bucky utters dumbfounded.

"Yeah, can't you tell how excited they get to see you?" 

"I figured kids always get excited," Bucky shrugs.

"No, it's you," Sam croons and he brushes a kiss against Bucky's cheek. Bucky finally smiles, warmed from the thought of the boys loving him.

When the family picks them up at the airport, the boys are thrilled to see Bucky again - Sam was right. Sarah doesn't waste anytime when they arrive back at the house. The boys speed past the adults into the house and Sarah promptly turns, blocking Bucky and Sam in the front doorway.

"So, you're dating my brother now?" Sarah stares right at Bucky expectantly, crossing her arms like she's annoyed.

Bucky swallows thickly.

"Yeah... is that okay?" Bucky gets out.

Her face suddenly lights up.

"Of course it is! I was just messing with you," she responds laughing as she pulls Bucky into an unexpected hug. He ignores the shock that washes over him and hugs her tightly. 

She draws back, smiling wide and it's infectious. Bucky smiles right back.

"She's the worst," Sam jokes as he pushes past them into the house.

No, she's the best, Bucky thinks.

Bucky loves every second he spends with the Wilson family. He stops worrying about the family accepting him and Sam as a couple pretty quickly when they don't stop forcing them into constant PDA. Like when they're walking around a local Christmas market and Cass turns around to see him and Sam walking side by side.

"Shouldn't boyfriends hold hands?" Cass pries adorably.

Bucky looks at Sam who's holding a smile back. Sam easily slips his hand into Bucky's.

"Thank you," Cass beams proudly and turns back around to catch up with his brother.

Sam rests his head on Bucky's shoulder. Bucky breathes in a calming breath before kissing the top of Sam's head. He's glad Cass forced them into this, he loves it.

When Christmas comes, the encouragement from the family also doesn't stop. Sarah hangs up a mistletoe right above Sam and Bucky.

"Ooh, now you have to kiss!" Cass coos.

"Rules are rules," Sarah shrugs with a knowing smile on her face.

Bucky nervously glances at the boys, wondering if it will be weird for them to see. He looks at Sam, his brows knitting together anxiously.

"You know what a mistletoe is, right?" Sam tests, smirking.

It knocks Bucky right out of his worry.

"Sam, of course I do. I'm 106," Bucky fights.

"Well, then kiss me old man," Sam orders.

Bucky still hesitates, glancing at the boys once more who are only staring and waiting with smiles on their faces.

"No one else is kissing," Bucky mumbles embarrassed.

"Yes, we are!" Sarah jumps in as she grabs her boys and gives them both sloppy kisses on the cheeks. AJ and Cass laugh wildly, trying to pull away. Bucky smiles at the scene and when he looks back at Sam, he leans right in to find Sam's lips. 

The morning after Christmas, Sam and Bucky are sitting on the porch outside. Bucky has a cup of coffee in one hand and Sam's hand in his other. He couldn't be happier and for a moment, he sits wondering if this could be what love feels like.

He gets lost in the thought until an echoing bang of vibranium knocks him out of his daydream. They both shoot up from the bench swiftly to find AJ and Cass scurrying out from behind some trees with the Captain America shield. Steve had given the shield to Sam months ago, but Bucky had yet to see him use it.

"Boys!" Sam scolds and the boys nervously drop the shield.

"Sorry Uncle Sam!" they call out and run away hastily. Sam shakes his head, but his face has an affectionate smile painted over it.

"They're lucky I love them too damn much," Sam mutters almost to himself as he sits back down.

The words hit Bucky like a train. He loves the boys and Sarah too. He loves them, he knows he does because he would never want anything to happen to them. He'd rather die. He sits thinking this over, he knows he feels the same way about Sam... maybe even more so.

So, then... he loves Sam? The feeling pulses through him, lighting up his insides with a joy he can't describe. Bucky sits back down, staring so intensely at Sam that the man turns with a worried look on his face.

"What?" Sam presses.

"I love you."

Sam freezes, they stare at each other.

"You sure?" Sam whispers, his voice catching in his throat.

"I love you, Sam," Bucky says the words again and it makes his heart flutter so fast, he feels like he might pass out with how happy and proud he is of himself. 

He doesn't let Sam ask again, he pulls Sam into a long, searing kiss.

"I love you," Bucky repeats when he breaks from his lips. 

Sam smiles.

"I love you," Bucky states for the fourth time.

"Yes, I heard you the first time," Sam laughs as Bucky peppers his face with kisses.

"I'm just so happy I can say it," Bucky gleams.

"I love you, too," Sam returns.

They share another long, deep kiss. Sam sits back and slings his arm around Bucky, pulling his close. They sit in a comfortable silence for a while.

"It feels so normal," Bucky eventually comments.

"What does?"

"Sitting here with you after I said I love you," Bucky explains.

"What did you expect would happen?" Sam chuckles.

"I don't know," Bucky replies smiling. 

"I don't have any fireworks," Sam jests, rubbing his arm.

Bucky huffs a laugh before his mind starts to wonder again.

"How come you don't use the shield?" 

Sam stays quiet for a while.

"It doesn't feel like it's mine," Sam answers.

"Steve gave it to you," Bucky counters.

"Yeah, but... it feels like it's someone else's. I don't know, I'm hoping it will feel right... some day," Sam confesses.

Bucky leans up and presses a kiss into his cheek.

"It will, just give it time."

"You sound pretty sure," Sam remarks, impressed.

"I am. Steve believed in you, I believe in you. You're the best person for that shield," Bucky shares honestly.

Sam makes a surprised noise.

"Mhm, I don't know if I like this strangely confident Bucky. What have you done with my boyfriend?" Sam teases.

Bucky snorts a laugh at that.

"He's still here," Bucky sighs contently.

Sam threads his fingers through Bucky's hair, pushing it back before pressing a kiss to his temple. It still calms Bucky even when he doesn't need it. 

"I love you," Sam whispers again.

"I love you, too."

Back in D.C., there's only one Christmas gift left for Bucky to give and that's the sweater for Joaquin. He also has to tell Joaquin that he's dating Sam, which is a worrying task for Bucky.

When Joaquin opens his gift, he loves the sweater and thanks Bucky immediately. Bucky prepares himself to give the kid the bad news.

"What?" Joaquin asks when he sees Bucky's unsettled face.

"There's something I have to tell you," Bucky starts.

"Okay."

"Sam and I are dating," Bucky reveals firmly.

"Oh, really?" Joaquin processes.

"Yeah and I'm in love with him. So, I'm sorry, I don't really think it's gonna work out for us," Bucky frowns.

Joaquin's eyebrows raise fast.

"Wait, there was a chance... w-with us?" Joaquin stammers.

"Uh... no," Bucky answers apologetically.

Joaquin's expression softens.

"I figured," Joaquin smiles. 

"I'm sure there's another guy with a metal arm out there for you," Bucky lends.

Joaquin laughs, Bucky's not sure what's so funny. 

"Yeah, it's okay. I should probably find someone my own age anyway," Joaquin replies.

"Yeah, I get what you mean. Sam is way too young for me," Bucky quips.

"Hey - I heard that," Sam interrupts, popping out from around the corner where he was clearly ease-dropping the whole time.

"How am I too young for you?" Sam fights, approaching Bucky quickly.

"So immature," Bucky directs at Joaquin, ignoring his protesting boyfriend.

"Are you kidding me?" Sam fusses.

Bucky stands up and catches Sam around the waist, drawing him close.

"Yeah, I'm kidding. You're perfect," Bucky says grinning.

"You're damn right." Sam grins right back.

"Darn it, stop being cute. You guys are gonna make me happy for you," Joaquin jokingly warns with a huge smile.

They smile back at him and Bucky kisses Sam right in front of the kid.

He can't help it, he's too in love with Sam Wilson to hide how he feels anymore.