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Bucky is having the worst day ever. Every tiny little thing is setting him off. First it was Sam using all of the hot water before he could shower. He just had to do the laundry and run the dishwasher at seven in the goddamn morning. Then, after a freezing cold shower, he discovered that Alpine had chewed up the laces on his brand new running shoes which annoyed him so much that he skipped the run altogether. He decided to do some grocery shopping instead, so he grabbed his car keys and left, not bothering to let Sam know where he's going; they're not friends, he doesn't need to know.
His day just continues to go downhill from there. While he is at the mini grocery store in their small town, he finds that the one thing he was craving––peach rings––is fucking sold out! And then, he accidentally drops a jar of dill pickles in the middle of the isle he's standing in, causing it to shatter, pickles and glass shards flying everywhere. "Fucking perfect," He mutters, bending down to start cleaning up the mess.
"Hey, stop!" Someone yells from behind him which results in his flesh finger slipping. He looks up and sees an employee walking towards him. "Sir, I'm sorry for yelling, but we need to be the ones to clean up the messes." The young lady speaks softly.
Bucky shrugs. "Just figured since I made the mess, I should be the one to clean it." And the girl frowns.
"We do it to avoid accidents like.. well, that." He follows her gaze down and he's met with a slightly bloody hand; he'd cut himself on the glass.
"Shit," He says, not because it hurts, he can't even feel it, but because he'd made even more of a mess. "Sorry." He apologizes. He is so done with today.
The lady shakes her head and gives a light smile. "Accidents happen. But, since you did get injured, I'm afraid you're going to have to come to the back with me so I can clean the wound. And I have a little form you need to sign."
The long-haired man shakes his head and looks back up at her. "For a tiny cut like this? Seriously, I can't just pay for the mess and go about my day?"
She gives a tight-lipped smile and shrugs. "I'm sorry, sir. It's just protocol." And he sighs and follows her to the back. He didn't want to get this poor girl in trouble for not doing it. He can't be mad at her for doing her job.
So twenty minutes later when that is all taken care of, he quickly finishes up his shopping and speeds home. God, he thinks, can my day get any worse?
And the answer is yes, yes it can. As soon as he steps through the front door, he wants to step back out. Sam fucking Wilson has Marvin Gaye blasting throughout their small house and he's singing along terribly as he vacuums the hallway carpet. Bucky groans; he can feel a headache coming on already.
He kicks off his worn sneakers and makes his way to the kitchen, setting down the paper bags with an annoyed sigh. Can Sam please shut the fuck up already? He's so loud and off-key and Bucky wants to strangle the man.
After the groceries are unpacked and put away, Bucky goes into the living room and plops down on the couch, kicking his feet up on the other end. He shuts his eyes and smiles lightly when he hears the vacuum turn off. Maybe Sam will turn off the music too. But of course, with Bucky's luck, Sam just drags the machine into the living room and turns it on.
"Hey, Bucky!" Sam says obnoxiously loud and Bucky's eyes flick open to see the man grinning at him.
He rolls his eyes and asks, "Are you almost done with that?"
"Give me five minutes and then you can return to your beauty sleep." God, Bucky hates him.
It takes longer than five minutes. Way longer. Sam won't stop fucking around. He keeps pausing at his favorite parts of the song and uses the vacuum hose as a microphone. He's about to get thrown out the damn window.
Bucky is almost asleep after a few minutes of blocking out the noise, until Sam decides to turn the vacuum on right next to his ear. He jumps up, eyes popping open, and just about loses it. "Jesus fucking christ! Fucking stop with the goddamn noise, Sam! You're worse than a child. Grow the fuck up." He's shooting daggers at Sam and the man turns off the vacuum and pauses his loud music.
"Jeez Barnes, I'm just trying to have fun. What's your problem? Why are you being such a dick?" Sam asks, and he sounds kinda hurt. Now Bucky feels guilty. God, Sam's right. He was just having fun. And Bucky usually wouldn't mind, but today is just not his day.
He sighs and leans his head back against the arm of the couch. "I don't know," He mutters, covering his eyes with the back of his hands. "I'm just having a bad day, today. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it." He shouldn't have snapped at the man.
It's silent for a few moments, and Bucky thinks for a minute that maybe he left the room. But then he feels the couch cushion dip between his legs, and suddenly a hand is on the waistband of his grey sweatpants, fingers gently sliding underneath.
His eyes widen and he quickly sits up. Sam is kneeling between his thighs, a light smile on his face with a glint in his pretty brown eyes. "What're you doing?" Bucky screeches, heart beating rapidly in his chest.
Sam chuckles. "Helping you relax." He states as if it's obvious before reaching on both sides of the man's hips and lightly tugging his pants and boxers down to mid-thigh. Bucky feels his mouth go dry as Sam dips his head down and wraps his lips around the head of his soft cock.
He hisses and grips the couch cushion tightly as the man begins working his lips down his rapidly growing length. "Fuck! S-Sam, that's good. That's really good." He moans and watches as his cock gets fatter and harder in the wet heat of Sam's mouth. Sam only hums and continues pleasuring the ex-assassin. Sam half-gags when the man's cock is fully hard, because he is huge. Hung like a fucking horse if he's being honest. The serum must've helped with that.
Sam relaxes his throat and slides down until his nose meets the short, coarse pubes at the base of his cock. Bucky's head falls back and he places his hand on the back of the man's head as Sam swallows around his cock, throat spasming trying to get accustomed to the large intrusion. He quickly pulls up and takes a breath before going back down, lips working the tip as his hand strokes the rest of his thick shaft.
He bobs his head in a fast rhythm and tongues the leaking slit and Bucky tries so hard not to buck his hips up to get more of that mouth around him. He can't remember the last time he'd gotten head from someone; it had to have been before Hydra got a hold of him, so he's surprised he's lasted this long.
Sam's hand reaches down to fondle Bucky's scrotum, rolling the large, full balls around in his soft hand as he takes the man to the back of his throat again. "F-Fuck, Sam! Slow down, oh god." Bucky gasps as Sam does just the opposite, sucking even harder, practically trying to suck the life out of him through his leaking cock. "Oh, shit––I'm gonna, fuck g-gonna cum, Sammy." He spills down the man's throat with a large shout, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure as Sam swallows every drop that Bucky has to give him, which is a lot. Sam chokes a bit and a few drops of the man's seed slips through his lips and down his chin.
"Oh my god." Bucky breathes out as his softening cock slips out of Sam's hot mouth. He lifts his head and reaches down to swipe a thumb across his chin, catching the cum that slipped. Sam surprises him by grabbing his wrist and wrapping his plump lips around the digit to slowly lick it clean. "Fuck," Bucky whispers and swallows the lump in his throat. That was so fucking hot.
Sam tucks Bucky's flaccid cock back into his pants and grins up at him. "Feel better yet?"